Datasets:

IconicAI
/

DDD

Dataset card Data Studio Files Files and versions Community

Split (1)

train · 56.6k rows

index int64 0 56.6k	thread_id int64 0 1.54k	message_id int64 0 752	author_id int64 0 2.81k	author_num_posts int64 2 36k	message stringlengths 0 134k	character stringlengths 0 110k
500	10	54	2,235	2,290	Skylar Montgomery Location: Tallshade Rehab Clinic to the Castle Street Cafe Interacting With: Boss(Alice)/Anyone at the Cafe As Sky sat in her desk chair she pondered more about last night. That swan didn`t try to fight it`s fate, actually it was rather calm for its fate being death. As far as she could think of a wild swan wouldn`t be so calm. "What the hell?" She whispered to herself in confusion. In that case her mind wandered to if that swan actually had been after like all of them. It would explain the eerie black smoke that came pouring out of it. That would mean all of them would do that in animal form if they died though. It was with these realizations that had Sky running to the bathroom with a turning stomach throwing up. Even though she`d been doing this for some time now she`d never questioned why they even had these powers, or what happened to them when they made that contract. It was like a dark creature was stirred up from a deep sleep within her, one that she`d been pressing down for almost four years. She hoped this whole thing wasn`t something dealing with their true nature. Dragging herself off the bathroom`s floor, not the cleanest place to sit down. Sky washed out her mouth and ran cold water over her face before drying off with a towel. As she walked back to her office her boss spotted her. "Sky you don`t like so good? You alright?" She asked and Sky nodded. "Yeah, I think I`m just tired, been up almost 48 hours with little sleep." "Well Mike just showed up, you can be cut for the day if you want." Sky nodded overjoyed at that news. "That`d be great actually. I`ll see ya tomorrow then, thanks Alice." She replied before going to her office. Putting on her light grey sweater on over the light pink sundress she was wearing and slipping her purse over her head she finally left the clinic, the bell jingling on her long chained necklace. "I need coffee ASAP," Sky said to herself before getting into her car driving through the town towards the café. No doubt in her mind that the others were there, they usually were. At the moment she was tired though and she had yet to meet her most mysterious John Doe. The moment she walked into the café after parking her car she noticed Eddie, Terry, Daniel, Toby, and Angel were here. An insanely large number of the gang at this time in the morning.	Name: Skylar Jane Montgomery Nickname: Sky or Fawn Birth Date: February 28 Age: 21 Gender: Female Sexuality: Heterosexual In The Mirror In Depth Appearance: Unlike the slim figures of all the other women in the Montgomery family Sky got more of a curvy figure. Along with being 5"2 and having unusual grey eyes it was safe to say she stuck out a bit compared to her four sisters. Freckles dot her face and body being something she loathed as a child and something she`s come to find as apart of who she is as an adult. The sun is usually an enemy because of her pale skin color. Her hair is naturally red and is curly and thick. She`s learned after cutting it short once that it`s best to leave it long, it`s a untamable beast. The redness in her hair varies by season, in summer months it turns copper due to the sun, in winter it turns a crimson red color(her preferred color of her hair). When it comes to make up she would rather skip it for a more natural look, though she does like lipstick. Even though she hides it, because mostly everyone in the group finds her to be the innocent one, she has a tattoo of a broken heart on the right side of her ribcage. The reason behind this tattoo no living soul knows, no one even knows she has it. Clothing Style: Sky`s clothing choices vary by how she feels. On a Friday she might be feeling a edgy black dress with three inch wedges while on a Monday she`d be wearing a white sundress with a light pink sweater. There are also the days where she dresses up like what she calls "witchy" or "hippy" styles. You can be assured whatever she`d wearing always has a necklace though and if she`s not feeling well sweat pants usually follow. Delving Deeper Likes: Music Coffee Strawberry pastries Literature Cats Art Dislikes: Rap Dishonesty Cherry anything Body shaming Public Speaking Drugs Fears: Abandonment Hurting other people Alienation Always being seen as the little sister Habits: When she`s nervous she`ll often start spinning her necklace or a piece of jewelry she`s wearing at the time. As she gets excited she goes from speaking normally to loudly. Whenever she`s uncomfortable she puts her hair into a ponytail. Often stays up way too late at night. Personality: ♦ Clumsy ♦ Wise ♦ Warm-Hearted ♦ Understanding Even as a child most people said she was far beyond her years and as she reached her teen years people started to say she was the wise old woman in a teenager`s body. She tries to understand someone before she says anything against them. This leads to her being very trusting and understanding towards others. The advice she gives to problems is usually a lot more than someone her age should be able to give. It`s also one of her biggest downfalls as others can betray her quite easily. In all she`s rather clumsy and lightheaded, someone could tell her something and she`d forget it in two seconds. This has always been something she`s hated because while she`s very smart no one can see that with how forgetful and sporadic her nature is. In sad situations she feels rather uncomfortable, because while she tries her best to comfort someone she always feels like she`s doing everything wrong. Even though she looks down on herself a lot she does have confidence in her decisions and she believes that believing in yourself is the best thing you can do. She does feel like the owl represents her a lot. Like the owl she prefers being up all night than being awake during the day. It`s also seen as a wise creature and has aspects that she wants for herself, to be more precise and strong are two of them. Background: In her family there`s five daughters, Sky being the youngest. Meaning her childhood was full of hand-me-downs and often being misplaced. Her oldest sister Delilah is seven years older than her. The second and third daughters, Mary and May, are twins and are six years from Sky. Jamie who`s the closest to Sky at only two years apart. When Sky was born her parents had been hoping to finally have a boy. She`s always felt like her father didn`t approve of her because of this. The Montgomery family is known for being a very rich and successful family in a town a few towns away from Tallshade. As she grew up she had trouble trying to convince people she wasn`t a snob like they tried to make her believe. Many people bullied her for her intelligence and the difference of her looks compared to her sisters. Even her sisters would laugh and joke about how she was adopted. It really did make her feel like she had no one, her parents were always working, and it was very easy to just isolate herself in their huge house. Due to all of this she fell into depression and at some points self harmed. In high school she got involved in a lot of bad groups. She often snuck out to get high or drunk with people she thought were her friends. It wasn`t until she was almost 18 that things went completely downhill. At a party she overdosed unintentionally. If the cops hadn`t broken up the party a few minutes later she would have died. In the hospital her family didn`t have anything nice to say to her and only yelled at her for being so irresponsible. They sent her off to a clinic for 6 months and she was released when she turned 18. Instead of going back to her family she broke off all ties to them. She got a job and lived in a small apartment till she finished high school and got a broken heart tattooed on the right side of her ribs. She saved up money and moved to Tallshade to go to college as soon as she had enough money. It was a step by step process. The day she got to Tallshade she went to the Castle Street Café and ordered a cup of coffee and some breakfast. The things she owned were in a small suitcase next to her in the booth. As she sat there silently reading her book an older man came and sat across from her in the booth and ordered a drink from the waitress before looking at her. Sky asked him who he was and they eventually got into a conversation about her life somehow. She found out his name was Grimbold and he asked her if she wanted a way to completely change her life and be in an actual family for once, as long as she did what he said. It took awhile but she agreed and he told her to walk out of the shop and not pay for her coffee or breakfast. It was history after that and she`s been with the group for three years now. She finally has a place where she can be herself. Relationships: Sky thinks of the entire group as her family. As such she has compassion and understanding for all of them. Most she considers as friends and even if she doesn`t feel too confident in a member of their family she still treats them with respect and gives them the benefit of the doubt. ☮ Eddie ☮ - Eddie is a good guy, she finds it interesting to watch him tinker, and talking about fiction books is always fun. Sky always tries to convince him to like cats more. He`s the person she goes too to talk about the books she`s reading at the time. ☯ Terry ☯ - In Sky`s eyes Terry is alright, her observant nature makes her an okay person to talk too, although her crude nature sometimes makes her a bit uncomfortable. ☮ Sloane ☮ - When they first met she knew the woman didn`t think too highly of her, some friendships start out a bit rocky though. In present day she finds Sloane to be a very good friend of hers, even if they don`t agree on rap music. ☮ Rob(Foxy) ☮ - Foxy as she likes to call him. She likes to think of him like the older brother she never had as his middle name happens to be her last name. Like her she also values how he thinks of them like a family. ♥ Toby ♥ - Ever since she met him Sky`s always had a crush on Toby. At first she thought it was just his looks and tried to talk herself out of it. As she got to know him more she found to really like his calm nature and that he himself also had some bad experiences with drugs and such, in which she could relate. ⚡ Cara ⚡ - Cara makes Sky feel rather uneasy. While she seems very nice Sky can feel the other side of her personality and has seen it a few times. This rather scares her. On the outside Sky is usually very nice to her however. ☮ Nick ☮ - Much like most of the group she sees Nick as a younger brother. She likes that if either of them aren`t feeling talkative the other person can rant as long as they want. It can also just be a conversation or sitting in silence. ☯ Nina ☯ - At first Nina seemed like the type of person Sky would never be on great terms with. She was the queen bee in high school while Sky had been the rebellious/druggy girl. As time went on she`s started to become perfectly fine with her. Even if she`s hot tempered and can be rather hard to work with Nina does protect those she cares for and Sky admires that. ☮ Angel ☮ - Angel`s compassion is what Sky appreciates the most about her. Even though she went through some hard stuff in life she still jokes and laughs. In Sky`s eyes she`s the person to go to if you`re having a bad day. ☯ Danny ☯ - Sky can't say she knows Danny too much. He was here before she was. Danny keeps to himself but he's not a bad person at all. She does trust him even if they don't know a ton about eachother. Extra: Dark powers: Animal Form: pic of animal form goes here power: She can hear the darker parts of someone's mind. Regrets, pain, dark secrets, are just a few. When she uses this power it causes paranoia in the victim. Even though she is kindhearted and understanding the old dark side of her understands a lot of the thoughts she receives.
501	10	55	1,201	1,269	Teryn Ikeda Location; Castle Street Cafe Interacting With; Daniel Reyes Teryn went over to the counter and picked up her drink and had sat back down at one of the tables as she waited for Daniel to be on his break. It didn't take as long as she expected. She hadn't even gotten her stuff out yet to work on homework and studying so she could do that while she waited for him. "We can stay here though I might request more of your time after your shift," she said before blowing into her chai latte. She had noticed that for some reason, a lot of the people in their little cult was in the cafe today. Or maybe they came here all the time, not that she would know since this was not her scene. None of those who were there were very fond of her though, so she let their presence go unacknowledged. "So... I need your help with the assignment," she said softly. She avoided looking at Daniel and focused intensely on her cup. She hated asking for help and rarely did it. "Of course, I would owe you one... So...p-p-please, help me," she added, stammering on a certain magic word. She took a sip of her chai latte and it burned her tongue. She winced slightly from the pain and couldn't help but stick her poor tongue out. How shameful was all of this. She needed help and she looked like an idiot.	Teryn Ikeda "I just can't deal with people right now... or ever."- -Teryn IkedaPersonal Information Name: Teryn Kanae Ikeda Nickname: Terry, TK, Scary Terry (Though she would glare at you for calling her this) Birth Date: February 20th, 19XX Age: 20 Gender: Female Sexuality: Heterosexual but starting to feel a bit bi-curious. In The Mirror In Depth Appearance: Terry is fairly tall for a Japanese girl, standing at 5"7. She has long, sleek black hair and always gets it cut in the same blunt fashion. Don't even bother trying to ask her to change her hair because it will never happen. She has pale skin from lack of sun exposure and delicate facial features. Some might say she has a "resting bitch face", but at least she makes up for it with her nice, slim body. Her brown eyes are cold and always seem like they're looking straight through you. Clothing Style: Terry likes to wear long-sleeved dresses paired off with tights or lace leggings. She enjoys wearing lace a lot. She generally wears a lot of black but also likes other dark colors like dark red because they don't make her look like a ghost. She wears a lot of accessories such as scarves, hats, sunglasses, and more to add more to her look. When she feels lazy, she'll wear an oversized sweater and leggings. Her shoes of choice are heels because she likes feeling tall and believes they show off her legs more. Delving Deeper Likes: Cloudy days Art History Shiny objects Mint Tea Photography Dislikes: Sunlight Heavy foods Racist jokes about her ethnicity Loud noises Dogs Fears: Her Grandmother Dying The Ocean Habits: Rolling her eyes Chewing mint-flavored gum Putting on sunblock Personality: ♦ Observant ♦ Cynical ♦ Stubborn ♦ Standoffish Terry isn't the most optimistic person around. She doesn't have that much faith in others and more than often assumes the worse will occur. Regardless, she thinks highly of herself and her ability to be able to observe the world around her. However, once she believes she is correct about something, it is hard for anyone to convince her otherwise even if she was actually wrong. It is rather hard for her to make friends because of this, but she is not necessarily a bad person, just a hard person to get along with. It suits her fine though, she doesn't feel like she needs friends anyways. Background: Terry had a normal childhood. Her dad was a somewhat wealthy business man and her mother was a stay at home mom. She was never neglected or abused. Her grandmother was always harsh and scary, but besides that Terry lived a peaceful life. She was never good at making friends and was only average in her school work. Her parents always let her do what she wanted, which wasn't much. She simply wanted to be alone and have a nice camera to take photos with. Tallshade was a weird town. Perfect for an outcast like Terry. She was looking up universities her junior year of high school when she discovered Tallshade. She particularly liked the fact that it was dark and covered in shade half of the year. She managed to convince her parents to let her apply to the small university there and found out that she was accepted her senior year. At the university, she is currently studying as an art history major. One day after class, she went into the woods to take some photos. A strange, old man approached her. She tried to ignore him at first, but he began to talk to her. He offered to give her powers as long as she promised to do what he said. It felt like a scene from Harry Potter which wasn't a good thing because she hated the series, but decided to accept his offer. Actually now that she thought about it, she still didn't know why she accepted his offer. He was very convincing... Position in the group: Terry understands that they are all working together for some unknown cause so she simply sees them as a group of coworkers or a rag-tag team. She would be the quiet one who does what she is supposed to do, but would never go the extra lengths to befriend everyone. ☮Sloane: Terry admires Sloane's artistic abilities and finds her to be an agreeable person. Terry isn't sure whether or not they could be considered friends, but Terry respects Sloane and is more likely to listen to her than to others. ☯Eddie: Terry has noticed that Eddie is very much a pushover. He appears to be afraid of her so they don't talk much. She is somewhat amused by the fact that she intimidates him so much but doesn't know a lot about him besides the obvious. ☯Nina: Nina likes to be in the center of attention, Terry doesn't. Nina isn't the nicest person around but as long as she doesn't bother her, Terry is fine with it. ☯Robert: Terry is quick to put Robert down when he tries to get her and the others to join in on his schemes. She believes that he is childish and arrogant. Despite the fact that he should know very well that she doesn't like him, he still tries to talk to her from time to time and she can't figure out why. She is interested in his music and poetry, but would never vocally express that. ☯Tobias: Well, she won't deny that he is easy on the eyes. But that's about it. They don't bother to talk to each other at all. ⚡Cara: At first glance, Cara is like Terry's opposite. Though Terry is aware of her somewhat two-faced nature, she doesn't care. All she knows is that she won't be falling for her 'sweet smile'. Still, she tends to stay away from Cara. Something about her just rubs Terry the wrong way, well more than most people do. ☮ Nick: She has sort of a soft spot for Nick, probably because he is so youngand she never had siblings before. She's very subtle about it though. For instance, she isn't as harsh and not as likely to shoot him down. She also keeps an eye out for him and would be willing to show him her photos from time to time. ☯Skye: She's a very nice person. Not a person Terry would associate herself with, but still Skye is a good person. ☯Angel: Terry's aware that Angel doesn't like her, but doesn't let it bother too much. She won't argue needlessly with the girl, but she won't try to get her to like her either. ☯Daniel: Though they don't talk, he seems like a person that Terry could get along with. He seems to understand her better than most people and gets that she is just who she is. Extra: Terry is like bazillionth-generation Japanese American so she doesn't even know how to speak Japanese. She will begrudgingly admit that she had watch anime when she was younger but will deny that she watches them anymore. The secret to her classic hair style? She cuts it herself because she doesn't even trust a hair stylist with it. Dark powers: Animal Form: Raven Power: She can create light breezes that could result in things like bad hair days and important papers getting lost
502	10	56	426	102	Daniel Reyes Location: Castle Street Cafe Interacting With: Teryn It was eerie almost as Daniel watched more members of his dark family walk through the door of the Cafe. Teryn was the first soon followed by Angel and Tobias. But not too long after Daniel sat down at Teryn's table did Eddie and Sky enter within minutes of each other. Now, he wasn't superstitious by any means, but it felt like an omen with so many of them gathered in a public place like this. It was silly feeling that way seeing how each one of them was practically a walking omen, harbingers of bad luck and ill will. However, this felt different. Maybe it was just the lingering whispers of last night's events still weighing heavy in his mind, but they hardly ever gathered together like this unless it was under the light of the full moon deep in the woods. Forcing himself to ignore the cold shiver that ran up his spine, Daniel returned his attention back to Teryn as she spoke. He was a little hesitant now that she was requesting his presence after work. "That should be fine. I get off at 1 and don't really have anything planned after work..." Daniel's hesitation soon faded though after he noticed how unbearably fidgety she was. This must be really hard for her, asking for help. Poor girl... He felt bad now that he had doubts in the beginning regarding her intentions. She merely needed help with the mission Grimbold had assigned them. He mentally berated himself for his lack of trust but it was safer that way. "I'll help you out but don't worry about owing me anything..." Daniel would feel guilty if she felt she was indebted to him. The fact that she felt she could trust him was payment enough. Maybe in turn he would learn to trust her too.	Name: Daniel Anton Reyes Nickname: Danny Birth Date: June 3rd Age: 23 Gender: Male Sexuality: Heterosexual In The Mirror In Depth Appearance: Daniel hides his emotions behind a veil of sea green eyes and controlled expressions. His perfectly arched eyebrows and flawless skin are merely a reflection of his upbringing and the mask his father unknowingly created. The only true expression of himself is the wild nature of his messy brown hair and small smiles he sometimes allows himself to show. Danny is average height for his age, standing at 5’8” and has a lean muscular build. Clothing Style: Not liking to stand out, his wardrobe consists mostly of simple neutral colored button-ups with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a pair of comfortable jeans, dark blue or black. His shoe of choice is a pair of black high-top Converse. The only indication of his rebellious nature is a black studded belt he wears around his waist. Delving Deeper Guarded ♦ Observant ♦ Wary ♦ Rebellious Background & Personality (because I believe it takes one to determine the other): From a young age Daniel has learned to create a different outward persona dependent upon what the situation calls for at the time. Being raised in upscale Paris by his father, money, and a prestigious name to boot, appearances were everything. Social functions, garden parties, hosting important people from around the world. These were but a few examples of Daniel’s childhood. While other children his age were fussing over skinned knees and the newest video game, young Daniel was expected to be seen but not heard. Raised to be the heir to eventually take over his father’s company; composed, reserved, only speak when spoken to, everything you do elegant and refined. Everything was fine at first because he didn’t know any different. It was simply the world he lived in. But as he reached his teenage years Daniel’s observant nature started telling him a different story. A story of cloaks-and-daggers, false smiles and pretty lies. Friendly conversation was only a guise for some deeper ill intent. All the pretty gowns and well-tailored suits he had admired as a child became loud exclamations of one’s wealth and nothing more. His father’s stern lectures and strict instructions for Daniel’s upbringing turned out to be no more than a business plan for his future heir. There was no longer any warmth in his father’s eyes nor kindness in his words. If they had ever been there to begin with Daniel no longer trusted himself to know. He lost trust in people and closed himself off, becoming wary of the deeper meaning behind their intentions. This also led to a rebellious streak in Daniel. Not the kind of hell-raising rebellion they show in movies, but the more subtle rebellion of not listening to orders or making a rude comment to a guest while he knew his father was watching. However, these rebellious outbursts were few and far between as he didn’t like bringing more attention to himself than was necessary. He already had enough of that as it is. Hating the idea of being his father’s puppet and being no more than a pretty face with a powerful name, Daniel decided to run away when he turned 18. Saving up his allowance over the years and claiming his inheritance at his coming of age party granted him the ability to do just that. He sat through the tutoring sessions his father arranged and continued to smile gracefully at his father’s side. When the time finally came, under the cloak of darkness while the mansion slept, Daniel packed as much clothing and various necessities as he could fit in a backpack and fled. He hailed a taxi to the airport and bought the soonest ticket out of Paris. This led him to Tallshade, a tiny town in America nestled between a huge forest at the base of a mountain. The perfect sense of seclusion he had been looking for. Seemingly isolated from the rest of the world, it gave Daniel the freedom to make a new life for himself. However, he learned real quick how unforgiving the world can be. He also soon realized that he didn’t really possess a true identity for himself. Having grown up in the shadow of his father and knowing nothing other than what he had been taught, who was he now that he was free from all that? Who was Daniel Reyes when we wasn’t acting the perfect model son? He had a collection of “masks” and nothing more. He settled down in a modest apartment and stashed his money somewhere out of sight. Daniel didn’t want to have to rely on his namesake to get what he needed but having it readily available gave him a security blanket to fall back on should he need it. He did odd jobs around town, took a couple random classes at the local university, anything to give him a sense of purpose in a world that was foreign to him. The one thing he was grateful for however, was all the language classes his father made him take. He couldn’t imagine how much of a nightmare arriving in a new country would be not knowing the language. He spoke with a subtle French accent but was able to be understood by the locals well enough. Daniel met Grimbold one night when he decided to take a late night walk to clear his head. He had been feeling especially lost lately and homesick in a Stockholm’s Syndrome sort of way. He rationalized this by telling himself it was the security of familiarity and structure that he missed. Settled down amongst the grass in a clearing in the woods, he stared up at the stars and wished for things he couldn’t have. Almost as if in answer, The Mentor appeared as quiet as a whisper and promised him freedom and power, among other things. He had been chosen for a reason, Grimbold told him. There were others too. The only condition was to serve him whenever Daniel was called upon. That almost caused Daniel to deny the old man on the spot. Here was another puppetmaster looking to take hold of Daniel’s severed strings. However, Daniel couldn’t sense any hidden agendas or twisted ideals from the man and the promise of purpose and a place to belong was too strong a temptation to ignore. Looking back on it now, Daniel should’ve seen it as an omen, something too good to be true. He was right back at square one, taking orders from a higher power for some unknown greater purpose. But 5 years later Daniel finds himself working as a barista at the local coffeehouse, still obeying The Mentor’s wishes when the time came. Likes: People-watching Being around people but not overly interacting with them Books/Reading Running Pastries/Bread Dislikes: Bringing unnecessary attention to himself Being forced to do something Alcohol and the loss of control it provides Sycophants, brown-nosers Anything that reminds him of his past life Fears: Losing purpose Removing his “mask” Getting close to anyone and getting hurt Being found and brought back to Paris Habits: Tends to fake smiles out of habit due to his upbringing Closes his eyes when a situation makes him feel uncomfortable Leaves unannounced to go for a run to clear his head, sort his thoughts Night owl and suffers from slight insomnia Position in the Group: Hangs out in the background to observe others. Doesn’t trust easily and even though he’s been in this for the better part of 5 years, Daniel still feels like everyone is merely an acquaintance and prefers to keep it that way. He’ll never admit it aloud but he’s afraid of letting others in. He admires everyone in the group, mostly for things he feels he lacks, but feels safer keeping everyone in neutral standing and only working together as a team if it’s absolutely necessary. ☯ Eddie – Seems nice enough. Appreciates his honesty. ☯ Teryn – Feels he can relate with her on an indirect level due to both their tendencies to not trust easily. She can sometimes come off as rude or defensive but he can respect that she has her reasons as he has his. ☯ Sloane – He admires her sense of individuality and confidence. ☯ Robert – Seems like a troublemaker but Daniel can appreciate his sense of adventure and spontaneity. ☯ Tobias – Feels almost as if they could be twin brothers but will not openly acknowledge this. ☯ Cara – He knows all too well of her fake smiles and pretty words and sees her as an annoying little sister-type. ☯ Nick – Jealous of his carefree nature and lack of worry of what the future might bring. ☯ Nina – Likes her confidence but gets annoyed by her spoiled attitude towards others. Enjoys having someone to talk to in his native language. ☯ Angel – Intrigued by her ability to blend in and relate to anybody. Thankful for her humor that quickly diffuses tense situations. ☯ Sky – Respects her maturity and feels like she would listen the most if he ever felt the need to confide in someone. Dark Powers: Animal Form: Black Bat Power: Echolocation Being able to cause headaches from as minor as a constant throbbing to as severe as vertigo, dizziness and a loss of balance. Much like how bats use echolocation by creating a sound and processing the information they receive from the echo, Daniel uses his power by whistling while maintaining line of sight with his target. He is also able to determine the severity of the target's headache by changing the pitch of his whistle. Prolonged use of his power causes Daniel to become extremely fatigued. EDIT: Updated information on how Daniel uses his power.
503	10	57	1,552	2,234	Angel Hardwicke Location; Castle Street Café Interacting With; Tobias & Eddie Angel found a sense of relief with Toby's answer to her - glad that she wasn't the only one who had issue with what had happened last night - or, at the very least, the only one who felt the need to talk about it. She was new to this group - for all Angel knew, talking trash about their "Esteemed-Leader" to the others could be a one way ticket to whatever dimension that Swan's soul had been sucked into. At Toby's own question, Angel took a few mouthfuls of her milkshake as she thought her answer over in her head. She didn't want to come across as some helpless maiden, who hadn't a brain cell in her pretty head to work out her problems - how hard could it be to keep a teenager in on a Saturday night? "Well... I haven't thought all that hard about it too much yet. I needed sleep last night and food this morning - now that I'm really thinking it over, I'm just stuck on how the Hell my little power is gonna help me out." She answered truthfully after a few moments, frowning slightly in her predicament. She had used her power even less than her shifting abilities - because how in the Hell does Déjà Vu help a girl out? She couldn't even use it to make her Professor's forget about homework, because they'd forget it for a moment, and then get right back on track. At best, it made them lose track of something mid-sentence; and Angel did that herself without any voodoo power affecting her. And if she focused for too long, her own brain got all fuzzy and forgetful. Although, that could be because she didn't know how to use it properly. She was about to continue, maybe even ask for some help from Toby, as he'd had plenty of years more experience than she had, when Eddie walked on over. Angel regarded him almost curiously as he talked, noticing how he seemed more nervous about the whole situation than she, a newbie, did. However, from what she could regard from Eddie's personality as a whole, he was prone to be nervous about things more than she was. Regardless of how the man's timidness somewhat unsettled her (As it would for any girl as opinionated, and outspoken about said opinions, as herself), she offered up her usual smile as she replied. "Well, the start of the night was just about as weird as I expected - things certainly turned south when we all went Animal Farm though."	Name: Angeline Megara Hardwicke Nickname: Angel Birth Date: 24th November Age: 20 Gender: Female Sexuality: Heterosexual In The Mirror In Depth Appearance: Angel stands at a less than average height of 5’5, along with a slim hourglass figure, and a heart-shaped face; atop of which sits a mess of chocolate brown curls, often worn in a myriad of different styles, and various shades of brown depending on how she feels like dyeing it. Her eyes are a bright, clear blue, standing out thanks to her dark lashes and brows. Her tanned skin is mostly unmarred, barring tiny scars here and there from scuffles in the past and childhood accidents. Clothing Style: Angel’s clothing style very much changes with the wind and her mood – some days she’ll favour darker clothes in a punk style, paired with heavy make-up and an obvious attitude. Other days she’ll be natural, wearing dresses of various styles and colours and accompanying accessories. And then the day after that she’ll just dress comfortably, wearing jeans and over-sized sweaters. The only clothes that rarely change are her pyjamas – anything with teddy bears. Because teddy bears are awesome, guys. Delving Deeper Likes: Anything fluffy – particularly animals. Face Painting (Well, any form of painting really, but face painting is a fun pastime for her.) Way too Loud music (Particularly rock) Cooking Steak (Cooked blue – any more than that is blasphemy, in her eyes.) Puns, quips, innuendos, and double entendres. (She’ll even sometimes sink so low as to pull the ‘That’s what he/she said’ joke.) Chocolate Day-dreaming ELECTRIC GUITAAAAAARRRRRRR Marvel Nature, and all of her destructive and calm feelings. Dislikes: Marvel-bashers Screamo or death metal Messing up her paintings Nosiness Apathy Slyness Ignorance The ever growing cacophony of irritating sounds often found issuing from children and babies. Fears: Heights Insects and arachnids Dying in some kind of meaningless, pointless manner. Not having left something worthwhile on this earth before she dies. Habits: Humming snatches of songs, or simply guitar riffs, under her breath. Tapping out drum beats. Day dreaming, zoning out, or losing track of a conversation mid-sentence. Clinging to a point rather stubbornly, should she believe she is correct and the other person is wrong. Personality: Entertaining ♦ Stubborn ♦ Opinionated ♦ Warm-Hearted ♦ Sharp Despite the fact her looks – and occasionally scatter-braininess - can make Angel seem like a wee naive girl, she is far from it. She knows far more than she lets on, and she will never let anyone take advantage of her. However, when looking at what Angel truly is like, it is plain to see she can make quite the courteous friend. Not only is she happy to lend an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on, but she gives fairly shrewd advice to people’s problems, in the hopes of helping them. Because of this, she is hardly one to judge others for their acts. One perspective of a story is hardly going to change her opinion of someone. Additionally, she’s quick to make jokes or light-hearted remarks in the hopes of getting someone’s spirits up. Humour rarely fails her, and is a very easy thing to fall back on. As for her stubbornness... well, it’s a miracle her animal form isn’t a Bull. If she has a point in an argument she will fight it as long she believes she is correct – which can definitely cause irritation for others around her, but she does certainly enjoy being right in her views... not that that means she is not open to other people’s opinions. When it comes to hard facts, she will happily accept it if she is wrong in something. As for opinions, everyone is entitled to have them – unless some poor ignorant fool is under the impression that their opinions are indeed facts. In which case, she’s happy to deliver a few sharp words towards said ignoramous. Background: Angel has been living in Tallshade for a good few months now, alongside her younger brother and Uncle. Prior to this, the last time she could remember a normal home life was when she was 9 years old, and still living in England with her brother, and parents. As such, life was pretty good. Her Mother was a Detective, her Father was in the army, and she was doing pretty good in terms of friends and school. Even with an annoying 5-year-old brother hanging around her at all times. Except, this annoying little brother arriving was one of the few good things she could remember in this time of her life – for a few months after her ninth birthday, her Mother died. A police raid gone wrong or something. She was too young to be given all of the details, not that it made it any easier. It had been while her Dad was away, on a tour in some country that she couldn’t pronounce yet. Naturally, he came home early, to attend the funeral and look after his young children. Shortly after this, he left the Army, under Compassionate leave. However, his time abroad had left its mark already – he’d seen such horrors, comrades blown apart before him, that things weren’t so perfect for him mentally. He became paranoid, plagued with nightmares and the inclination that someone had killed his Wife, and was then after him and his two children. Just before Angel’s tenth birthday, their house was sold and they moved to America. From there, they lived a very uncomfortable nomadic lifestyle – travelling from state to state when their Father became certain “people” had followed him there. He acted in the attempt to save his family, and Angel understood that. She knew her Dad was sick, so she just helped look after her brother and kept her head down in school, never really answering truthfully when people asked her why she never stayed for long. However, she knew something had to be done when he grew distrustful of her. Over the years she was maturing into a young lady, body and accent changing – but in her Father’s demented mind, she should still be his little nine year old. She became unrecognizable, and after she came home from school one day at the age of 16, he attacked her, thinking she was some kind of assassin that had broken in. Evading her Father, Angel fled the home with her brother, heading straight to the nearest police station for aid. She knew this would mean social services would get involved, but she couldn’t live with her Dad anymore, not when he was quite capable of killing her and her brother in their sleep. After a few weeks of wrapping their heads around their case, and a few foster homes, social services were able to find a relative of theirs living in America. Although the offer to go back to England was there, Angel decided remaining in the USA was better. She didn’t particularly want to remain in the same country as her Dad (Who was being deported back to the UK to receive mental help), but she knew this life better than her English life. Their fathers cousin – they simply call him Uncle James, it’s easier – happily took them in, being childless himself, and after a few years living in rainy Washington, James’ work had them moved to Tallshade. Now 20 years old, Angel is approaching her final year at University, studying Psychology. Over the years, she has also developed into a low-key rebel. Although not far rebellious enough to joy-ride vehicles or break into houses, she does partake in some amusing deviant acts. Her Uncle is quite lax when it comes to curfews, but had they been in place, she wouldn’t have paid attention to them anyway. Also, as a lover of art, she is quite happy to graffiti the town – nothing as crude as tags, but things that actually look nice. This was how she came across the Mentor. Late one night, she was busy spraying a moonlit lake on a wall when he appeared behind her, at first complimenting her art... and then asking her to spray something for him. Although dubious at first, she swiftly deduced that he wasn’t a cop – a cop would have arrested her already. So, she quite happily sprayed a pentagram on the church wall prior to his instructions (And thoroughly enjoying the irony behind said act), and from there, the conversation grew far more... odd. Now here she is with super-powers like the guys in her favourite movies, and doing things for a guy for reasons unknown to her... Position in the group & Relationships: Quite easily, Angel is the joker of the group. The first to make a quip or crack a joke in a tense situation, and an easy-going source of entertainment. She's also in the younger half of the group, which makes her far more likely to look for support from the older ones - being the caretaker of her brother from a young age, it's a refreshing change. Although happy to take charge if needed, she’s more than at ease to let someone else take the job. ☮Robert☮ The boy is an adventure-loving musician; what's not to love? He isn't too hard on the eyes either... ☮Toby☮ Has a pretty calming air about him. Seems like a dependable friend. ☮Cara☮ Ah. Bluntness. What a refreshing change in this world of political correctness. Also a potential foe when it comes to debating. ☮Nick☮ Hell, the boy can draw. He seems pretty sweet too - although not overly so, thankfully. His bootlegging of alcohol tells me that. ☮Nina☮ If I were to describe her in one word, it would be bitch. But hell, being a bitch isn't always a bad thing. I do admire girls and their claws, and she's got the sharpest of them all. Quite the hellion one looks for in a friend. ☯Eddie☯ Seems kind of meek, not really one to stand up for himself. Which is slightly irritating, but hey, the guy hasn't done anything bad to me. ☯Sloane☯ A fellow admirer of art, and isn't irritating so far. ⚡Teryn⚡ Ugh. I admire stubbornness, but clinging to one's opinions when proven wrong is pathetic. Lady also has some severe issues with everything and everyone, it would seem. Also, she hates dogs. Who hates dogs? THEY'RE SO FLUFFY! ☮Skylar☮ Reminds me of me, somewhat – although she seems sweeter than myself. A good friend – almost motherly, which is appreciated more than she knows. ☯Daniel☯ He seems nice enough, but is almost like a puzzle – one which I am itching to try and solve. Extra: Likes to partake in some underage drinking – moreso than what one would consider to be healthy. Dotes on the family dog – a clumsy Alsatian by the name of Dexter. Is a supreme geek lord – will thrash your ass in any trivia in regards to her favourite fantasy novels or media. Thanks to an extremely paranoid crazy army dad, was taught how to use Morse Code from a very young age. Dark powers: Animal Form: Black Coyote Power: Déjà Vu: Can give the feeling of Déjà Vu to anyone, by wiping their memory from the past few seconds – this can cause slight disorientation, or simply a repetition of a phrase or sentence. Useful if she needs to record or remember a conversation, or slip away without them realising.
504	10	58	1,228	2,368	Sloane Shields Location: Ink Shields Interacting with Cara Sloane set her bag behind the counter, phone on top, and sat at the stool facing the entrance. She checked her appointment binder for the fourth time that day and sighed in boredom at the blank columns before her eyes drifted to the door upstairs, from which her fat cat stalked out. "You're not allowed in here, Nox," she said, watching the feline stalk over to rub against her jeans. Rolling her eyes, Sloane simply stretched down to her bag to fetch her sketchbook and a small selection of lead and ink. After glancing up at the clock, she picked up where she left off on a sketch of a decorated rose. The tattoo shop was silent save for the low hum of the heater. The stereo was off--typical for Ink Shields unless a client was stuck there for hours and would like some background music. This was annoyingly common, but Sloane wasn't great at the small talk meant to entertain customers while she worked. Sloane liked quiet...and the roar of an approaching motorcycle was anything but. She watched through the window as Cara approached before dropping her green eyes down to her drawing. She quickly added a finishing touch, and Sloane was setting her sketchbook aside when her friend walked through the door and greeted her. "Slow as fuck," she replied simply, sitting up straighter with a sigh. "So whattya need? Want tea or coffee or anything?" As she asked, she nodded over to the water (hot or cold), tea bags, and instant coffee she had set up by the chairs for customers to help themselves to. Nox revealed himself from behind the counter to greet Cara with a meow.	You should never feel afraid to become a piece of art. Personal Information NAME Sloane Shields NICKNAMES Ona: given to her by her grandfather, but only her immediate family wastes time giving her name an extra syllable. Lo: she was first called this by her high school sweetheart and resents it being used by anyone else. BIRTH DATE November 21, 1990 AGE 25 GENDER Female SEXUALITY Bisexual In The Mirror APPEARANCE Her pale green eyes stand out the most: although mostly a light and icy green, flecks of deeper emerald and gold dot the irises. She tends to wear dark eyeliner and eye shadow that compliments the color. Sloane’s skin is dark brown in contrast, and she wears make up to accent her high cheekbones. Her dreadlocks are dark brown–nearly black–in color and are styled like a Mohawk with both sides shaved close to her scalp. She walks with a tall, confident demeanor and tends to wear a combination of tight pants and layered tanktops to show off her tattoo sleeves. Toned arms and legs stretch far, emphasizing her height and slimness–high heels help, too. Her nails are typically painted black, but are sometimes accented with whites, golds, reds, or purples as well. She also has tattoos behind her ear, neck, on her back and legs, hips, below her chest, and..elsewhere. Said tattoos include but are not limited to her zodiac sign, favorite quote, a semi-colon, and tribal designs. When it comes to jewelry, she has small gauges in her ears and long necklaces that dangle over her chest. She’ll sometimes have thick bracelets and rings on, as well. In her heels, she stands over 6' tall and weighs about 140 lbs. Notable tattoos: due to her dark skin, plain black tattoos are less than flashy. So she uses a lot of color in her work. On her left wrist is a compass, splattered with water color ink. The compass bleeds up her arm and into the rest of her sleeve. On the inside of her opposite arm is her first tattoo, gotten while taking Latin her freshmen year of high school: carpe noctem is scripted in hard, bold letters. This arm is sleeved, too, and compliments the phrase though overall it's not as colorful as her left arm. On her back is a decorated tree, decorated with reds and oranges. Finally, "1988" scripted on the side of her left ring finger. This is Winston's--her high school sweetheart's--birth year. These aren't all of her tattoos, but probably her most notable / important ones. CLOTHING A little athletic, a little slutty, all sexy: Sloane has a lean, beautiful body and she isn't afraid to show it off or the tattoos that decorate it. Her style can be described as a little grunge and a little street; she's always looks ready to go to a club. And unless she's working out, she's wearing heels. Sample wardrobe: X X X X X X X X Delving Deeper ♦ Ambitious ♦ Cold ♦ Creative ♦ Independent PESONALITY When it comes to people, she can come off friendly enough, though she’s rather apathetic behind the smiles. She’s far more interested in art and animals and magic, but she recognizes the importance and usefulness in others. Still, when her mood is soured, she can be sadistic and cruel to those she feel has wronged her–though, at times, she finds herself acting pointlessly cruel sometimes out of impatience or defensiveness. Needless to say, Sloane tends to look out for herself before others. However, she can easily bond with another over similar interests. She likes being active and loves to travel when she’s commissioned for a tattoo from someone out of town. Her less-than-conservative style stands out in a small town and she welcomes rumors of her being in a cult or a witch or in a gang or anything. LIKES Animals Art (tattoos, photography, paint, you name it) Foreign movies Tea Dance and rap Cities DISLIKES People (especially dull men) Feeling dumb: she dropped out of high school so, while clever, she isn't educated. And this can lead her to feeling self conscious about her intelligence. Fast food Boy bands Ross from FRIENDS FEARS Death Weakness Intimacy HABITS Playing with her hair StaringDoodling if she has a pen or pencil in hand BACKGROUND Sloane was born to an interracial couple (most notably of Sudanese and Iranian descent among others), but was raised by her mother and grandfather. There isn't much else to be said for the early years of her life because she was raised happily and healthily. Her sense of style growing up scared away potential friends, as she tended to take on a gothic/emo appearance, but she was content. And she was particularly happy when her first boyfriend (who on the surface was an idiot but friendly jock) asked her out and they became an item. They were happy together for only about six months: A particularly romantic Valentines Day led to a teen pregnancy with her first boyfriend. With support from both their families, she had planned to raise it with him. However, he died in an accident and she put the baby up for adoption instead--this being her biggest regret and a decision she made out of grief. Then she dropped out of her sophomore year of high school to become a tattoo artist. Neither her grandfather nor mother were very happy, but they tried to be supportive due to the tragic loss. While other people studied through and graduated from high school, Sloane spent those years studying the art of tattoos. She was a fast learner and talented artist. And now, at 25, she owns her own tattoo shop and apartment above it: Ink Shields. It's of course popular with university students, but she gets both people travelling far and paid extra to leave town for her artwork. It was soon after dropping out of high school that the Mentor appeared before her and gave her first task: key some guy's car. She was in a vulnerable place emotionally and psychologically, so she did. And the powers and the sense of family that came with them allowed her to toughen up and grow into the woman she is today. RELATIONSHIPS What I'm thinking so far (correct me if I'm mischaracterizing anyone): Sloane can come off as the stern but caring big-sister type. However, the latter is a lot harder to see, and she has little patience for weaknesses in herself or others. Terry: likes Terry enjoys her company as they have a lot of common--including the types of issues they face being a minority in a small town. She sees herself in Terry. Eddie: she has nothing against Eddie personally, but he seems to lack spine. She's impatient and snippy with him, partly because he just lets her. Robert: Finds him impulsive and obnoxious, but she knows there's more to him than that. He's not afraid to speak his mind, which she can at least respect. Cara: she comes off as friendly enough, but Sloane has seen the control freak side as well. She doesn't really mind allowing Cara to do what she wants, it's usually harmless to her. Toby: Dick. Sloane is p sure he's afraid of her since he doesn't always speak up. Makes her want to antagonize him more. Nina: They're both powerful, confident, and ambitious. So alike that they clash: Nina is really the only other member she considers worthy of rivalry. Nick: He's refreshing and bright--probably partly because he's the youngest of the group. But she admires his work and sees potential in Nick. Probably particularly protective of him. Angel: She doesn't have a problem with Angel; the girl seems tough as nails and Sloane admires her confidence. She's not ignorant to the issues between her and Terry, though, and would like to see them get along. Sky: Sloane was less than impressed with Sky when they first meant, but the woman's kindness and wisdom grew on her over time. And while she considers her a friend, she's also attracted to her as a person. EXTRA She has a Maine Coon named Nox. Her favorite color is deep red and she likes the scent of leather. Song: Life in Her Yet by Rag’n’Bone Man and Muse by OCAD. Dark Powers ANIMAL FORM Sloane's deer form is, of course, black as coal. However, she's relatively large for what would be a female deer, but nothing impossible for the species. Ironically, deer--especially does--are docile creatures whereas Sloane is anything but; however, she shares its lean, graceful figure and long limbs. POWER Umbra: Sloane can darken and manipulate shadows to a small degree, creating what would otherwise be a trick of the eye. She has exercised control over the power; however, her mental state can easily affect her control. Rage or depression can cause the lights to flicker and dim.
505	10	59	1,201	1,269	Teryn Ikeda Location; Castle Street Cafe Interacting With; Daniel Reyes Teryn was a bit relieved that Daniel was willing to help her despite her awkwardness. She had never asked anyone in the group for help before on an assignment nor had anyone ever asked her for help either. It'd be... interesting to see what could happen when she combines forces with another cursed creature. However, she could not tolerate the idea of her not returning the favor in some way or another. That was unacceptable and her pride will not allow it if Daniel simply let her off the hook like that. She was not going to make a habit of asking people for help without doing something for them in return. "Thank you but I insist on returning the favor," she said less nervously. She was now able to look him in the eyes again and she held her gaze strongly. "I would do anything you want, within reasons of course. It could be something as simple as buying you lunch, so please think of something." That was all she needed to say to him for the time being until his shift at the cafe ends. She pulled out her laptop and textbook so she could work on her assignment while she waited for him to get off work. A lot of students seem to come here to work on school work so she could probably do the same, despite how much louder this place was compared to the library. "This paper isn't going to write itself," she thought solemnly. She took another sip of her chai latte which had cooled down significantly. It was not that bad when it wasn't burning her tongue. Still too expensive though. Probably because she did not really want to work on the paper, she let her mind and eyes wander a bit. Toby, Angel, Eddie, Skye, Daniel, and herself. Six members of the same creepy cult. They were all young adults who probably attend the university so maybe it wasn't that strange but what a coincidence. She wondered if any of them were working some kind of agreement of their own for this assignment. Angel probably would need some help since she is new and her powers, like Teryn, does not necessarily matched the type of mission given to them. They seemed to be enjoying each other's company. Friendships created by unusual circumstances. Interesting... "I know for sure that I wouldn't even bother to get to know any of them if it weren't for Grimbold, not that it matters. But I wonder if the others would still have befriended each other if we weren't bunched up together like this." She stopped herself there, realizing that she should really work on the paper. She plugged in her headphones so she could listen to music while she worked. It also helped block out the sound of the bustling cafe. She wrote the title and her name on the paper. It was a good start and now she just needed more words.	Teryn Ikeda "I just can't deal with people right now... or ever."- -Teryn IkedaPersonal Information Name: Teryn Kanae Ikeda Nickname: Terry, TK, Scary Terry (Though she would glare at you for calling her this) Birth Date: February 20th, 19XX Age: 20 Gender: Female Sexuality: Heterosexual but starting to feel a bit bi-curious. In The Mirror In Depth Appearance: Terry is fairly tall for a Japanese girl, standing at 5"7. She has long, sleek black hair and always gets it cut in the same blunt fashion. Don't even bother trying to ask her to change her hair because it will never happen. She has pale skin from lack of sun exposure and delicate facial features. Some might say she has a "resting bitch face", but at least she makes up for it with her nice, slim body. Her brown eyes are cold and always seem like they're looking straight through you. Clothing Style: Terry likes to wear long-sleeved dresses paired off with tights or lace leggings. She enjoys wearing lace a lot. She generally wears a lot of black but also likes other dark colors like dark red because they don't make her look like a ghost. She wears a lot of accessories such as scarves, hats, sunglasses, and more to add more to her look. When she feels lazy, she'll wear an oversized sweater and leggings. Her shoes of choice are heels because she likes feeling tall and believes they show off her legs more. Delving Deeper Likes: Cloudy days Art History Shiny objects Mint Tea Photography Dislikes: Sunlight Heavy foods Racist jokes about her ethnicity Loud noises Dogs Fears: Her Grandmother Dying The Ocean Habits: Rolling her eyes Chewing mint-flavored gum Putting on sunblock Personality: ♦ Observant ♦ Cynical ♦ Stubborn ♦ Standoffish Terry isn't the most optimistic person around. She doesn't have that much faith in others and more than often assumes the worse will occur. Regardless, she thinks highly of herself and her ability to be able to observe the world around her. However, once she believes she is correct about something, it is hard for anyone to convince her otherwise even if she was actually wrong. It is rather hard for her to make friends because of this, but she is not necessarily a bad person, just a hard person to get along with. It suits her fine though, she doesn't feel like she needs friends anyways. Background: Terry had a normal childhood. Her dad was a somewhat wealthy business man and her mother was a stay at home mom. She was never neglected or abused. Her grandmother was always harsh and scary, but besides that Terry lived a peaceful life. She was never good at making friends and was only average in her school work. Her parents always let her do what she wanted, which wasn't much. She simply wanted to be alone and have a nice camera to take photos with. Tallshade was a weird town. Perfect for an outcast like Terry. She was looking up universities her junior year of high school when she discovered Tallshade. She particularly liked the fact that it was dark and covered in shade half of the year. She managed to convince her parents to let her apply to the small university there and found out that she was accepted her senior year. At the university, she is currently studying as an art history major. One day after class, she went into the woods to take some photos. A strange, old man approached her. She tried to ignore him at first, but he began to talk to her. He offered to give her powers as long as she promised to do what he said. It felt like a scene from Harry Potter which wasn't a good thing because she hated the series, but decided to accept his offer. Actually now that she thought about it, she still didn't know why she accepted his offer. He was very convincing... Position in the group: Terry understands that they are all working together for some unknown cause so she simply sees them as a group of coworkers or a rag-tag team. She would be the quiet one who does what she is supposed to do, but would never go the extra lengths to befriend everyone. ☮Sloane: Terry admires Sloane's artistic abilities and finds her to be an agreeable person. Terry isn't sure whether or not they could be considered friends, but Terry respects Sloane and is more likely to listen to her than to others. ☯Eddie: Terry has noticed that Eddie is very much a pushover. He appears to be afraid of her so they don't talk much. She is somewhat amused by the fact that she intimidates him so much but doesn't know a lot about him besides the obvious. ☯Nina: Nina likes to be in the center of attention, Terry doesn't. Nina isn't the nicest person around but as long as she doesn't bother her, Terry is fine with it. ☯Robert: Terry is quick to put Robert down when he tries to get her and the others to join in on his schemes. She believes that he is childish and arrogant. Despite the fact that he should know very well that she doesn't like him, he still tries to talk to her from time to time and she can't figure out why. She is interested in his music and poetry, but would never vocally express that. ☯Tobias: Well, she won't deny that he is easy on the eyes. But that's about it. They don't bother to talk to each other at all. ⚡Cara: At first glance, Cara is like Terry's opposite. Though Terry is aware of her somewhat two-faced nature, she doesn't care. All she knows is that she won't be falling for her 'sweet smile'. Still, she tends to stay away from Cara. Something about her just rubs Terry the wrong way, well more than most people do. ☮ Nick: She has sort of a soft spot for Nick, probably because he is so youngand she never had siblings before. She's very subtle about it though. For instance, she isn't as harsh and not as likely to shoot him down. She also keeps an eye out for him and would be willing to show him her photos from time to time. ☯Skye: She's a very nice person. Not a person Terry would associate herself with, but still Skye is a good person. ☯Angel: Terry's aware that Angel doesn't like her, but doesn't let it bother too much. She won't argue needlessly with the girl, but she won't try to get her to like her either. ☯Daniel: Though they don't talk, he seems like a person that Terry could get along with. He seems to understand her better than most people and gets that she is just who she is. Extra: Terry is like bazillionth-generation Japanese American so she doesn't even know how to speak Japanese. She will begrudgingly admit that she had watch anime when she was younger but will deny that she watches them anymore. The secret to her classic hair style? She cuts it herself because she doesn't even trust a hair stylist with it. Dark powers: Animal Form: Raven Power: She can create light breezes that could result in things like bad hair days and important papers getting lost
506	10	60	1,704	1,024	Tobias Rieper Location: Café Interacting with: Angel, Edward "You've got the Déjà Vu thing going on right? Seems a bit easy to me. Déjà Vu your target when they're walking down the stairs or something. They'll probably fall in midstep. Worst case scenario, they break their leg. And even then, your job is done. Me, I gotta get more creative. Not like my power can do anything to someone else." It was true. Predicting horrible events was somewhat good, but hell if it kept someone in his house. Maybe if he pulled off some final destination shit it could work, but it would be too complex to do by himself. And what would be the point of using his power anyway then? He'd be setting up the "horrible events" and would know regardless. He doubted his target would be scared of a raccoon either, so that left him in a tough spot. It seemed Tobias would have to do something violent. He wished to avoid this option, but it seemed like the only option at this point. Break in to the man's house, and then forcefully keep the man inside the home. But he'd decide later, preferably after breakfast. Before he could say anything further to Angel, Edward greeted them, seemingly avoiding Teryn and Daniel. Strange. If anything, Tobias would have thought Edward had little ill will towards the other two. Teryn was quiet, and Edward didn't reject the cakes Daniel brought. Then again, he might have been reading too much into Edward's avoidance. Perhaps Edward was just awkward around those two. Tobias hadn't really talked much to Edward, but from what he saw, Edward was one of those nice, but socially awkward people. Tobias always wanted to ask why he followed Robert around like a dog, but he figured Edward was easily manipulated. Tobias had seen it all the time before. Someone charismatic or intimidating came along, and people were drawn to that someone like moths to a flame. "Excuse me if I sound rude, but I'd rather not dwell on that topic any longer Edward. Not much to say but that it was weird."	Tobias Rieper “Home, sweet home. Something in the night felt like a door had been opened, an echo of the past, an old monster snapping its eyes open in the depths of my brain. Closing your eyes forces you to look at the darkness inside.” Personal Information NAME Tobias Rieper NICKNAMES Toby BIRTH DATE October 13th, 1990 AGE 25 GENDER Male SEXUALITY Heterosexual In The Mirror APPEARANCE Tobias's light blue eyes highlight his strongly german ancestry, if the pale white skin didn’t tip you off already. No makeup, nor any special hairdos, as one would expect from the average male, but has a beard/moustache. Tobias is exactly six feet tall, weighing around 170 pounds, fit as a fiddle, as his previous gang/prison lifestyle hasn’t allowed him to become weak. Tobias generally has a non expressive face, but he generally tries to smile for his own sake. CLOTHING Tobias doesn’t really wear anything too flashy in terms of his fashion, preferring to wear a simple jacket, jeans and some nikes. On occasion, he will wear a suit if he feels the situation requires it. And dress shoes too, because only a heathen would wear sneakers with a suit. Delving Deeper ♦Thoughtful ♦ Calm ♦ All Talk ♦ Remorseful PESONALITY While Tobias used to be aggressive in the past, now he attempts to be calm and less confrontational. While his anger still has a short fuse, Tobias manages to keep it in check, at least for now. Conflict is something he is not afraid of, but will avoid violence at all costs.Tobias would willingly allow another person to beat him, as he feels fighting back would drive him back to his previous life. As such, he tries to talk and bluff his way out of tricky situations. He can be withdrawn at times, as Tobias learned in therapy to mentally remove himself from the picture if his anger is getting out of control. LIKES Peace and quiet Snow Structure Cats/Dogs DISLIKES Tattoos Drugs Smug People Physical Fighting FEARS loss of self control Reversion to his precious lifestyle Addiction HABITS Plays with his rosary a bit when in deep thought. As stated before, has a habit of being withdrawn at random times. BACKGROUND Tobias was supposed to be the perfect model for the american dream. Four years of college, internship at a major accounting firm, steady and safe job. There was really nothing Tobias should have been complaining about, as he was practically set for life. But privately, he hated the life. Tobias felt little purpose in his studies, and later, his internship. While his family had paid for his college, and their connections earned him the internship, Tobias felt empty. His dissatisfaction led to his membership in a gang. The drugs helped, and beating up some poor sucker on the wrong side of town gave him a different high. Tobias was hooked. The drugs made him feel immortal, beating up other people gave him purpose and thrills. The gang made use of him as an enforcer, to collect debts, participate in gang fights, you name it. Ironically, Tobias was arrested for drug use/possession rather than being caught for beating people to near death. He was given three years in jail, losing his job, house, and his car. At first, Tobias blamed everything but himself for this sentence. The system, society, his circumstances. He constantly picked fights with other inmates to get a “high” again. After a year in prison, he “sobered” up and came to a different conclusion. His downfall was his own fault. There was nothing else to blame. There was something twisted, dark in his head if he had to do drugs or fight to feel satisfied. The system worked exactly as it should have, society was right this time, and he could offer no realistic excuses to his behavior. Tobias started to turn his life around as best he could in prison. Tobias no longer fought, he spent time in drug therapy sessions, and even became a Catholic, attending mass at the prison ministry. But as soon as he his sentence ended and he was let out, the empty feeling came back. Tobias tried to ignore the feeling, moving to a small town and acquiring a minimum wage job. He no longer cared much about the faith, ignoring it completely. But a man approached him, and offered him another purpose in life. Grimbold, he called himself. Supposedly Tobias had a higher calling, and as long as he would be willing to follow. Tobias accepted, but there was something in the back of the head telling him this might not be any different from his previous gang lifestyle.. RELATIONSHIPS Tobias probably comes off as the skeptic. The thinker of the group. He may take charge if no one else is willing. ☯Eddie☯ Weird guy, but nothing to hate him over. Tobias wonders why he’s in such a group however. ☯Teryn/Terry☯ Weird girl, but not as weird as Eddie. Not much to say about her as she rarely says much at all. ⚔Sloane⚔ Troublesome. While he may not backtalk to her, there are certainly times Tobias feels he might lose his temper with her and attempt to beat the living shit out of her. For this reason, Tobias acts cold to her in an attempt to get her to ignore him. ☯Robert☯ Too naive. Kind of reminds him of when he was younger, except with less angst, so he holds little ill will towards Robert. ☮Cara☮A bit on the short side, but she seems nice enough. ☯Nick☯Toby feels like he should say something about his illicit activities, but he feels he'd be a hypocrite considering he was no better at that age. ⚡Nina⚡Reminds him of Sloane. EXTRA None Dark Powers ANIMAL FORM A simple raccoon. POWER Can predict bad events, but has no idea of the severity/context, just that something bad will happen.
507	10	61	1,713	314	Robert Taylor Location; Library Interacting With; texting Eddie From:Robb To:Eddard "Yo Eddie, you know what I need man, some caffeïne would be great. Good thing you're heading this way. I have a plan." Well, the plan was not quite done yet. But it was taking shape. He did have to do some work once in a while, so Martha wouldn't get suspicious. There were some tasks that needed to be done, like ordering new books. It was boring, but among the more exiting chores, since it wasn't something daily. While half on facebook, half checking of the books that needed to be ordered and typing out their book codes, Robert's eye had fallen on a flyer on the counter. Figuratively. It was a monthly program of things to do in Tallshade. For the students or for people like him who should be studying, but at least matched the age category. Coming friday, a band would be playing at the Castle Street Café. He might be interested to go. And ofcourse he would ask Eddie. And then it hit him.... They would go. They would ask out, the girls they were supposed to be keeping in on saturday. Or perhaps they would go already. They just needed to make sure they would get really, really drunk. And go home with them. He didn't actually need to sleep with Rachel. He just needed to be there on saturday. How hard could it be, to keep her in, when she was really hungover, and he would be around to make sure she wouldn't leave. It was the first time he would try to hook up with a girl, not for anything romantic. Well, not that he was totally against that idea. It was just not the main goal. The thought of this new adventure excited him. Surely Eddie was going to join in on his plan. Next to the fact that that was what he did most of the time, this was the perfect opportunity for that little push that he needed with his girl. Now they only needed to get the girls to come as well. But how hard could that be? He already had Rachel's number. This was going to be great. Turning his back towards Martha for a moment, he took his flask from his belt.	Name: Robert Montgomery Taylor Nickname: Fantastic Mister Fox, Rob, Foxy Birth Date: january 4th, 1993 Age: 23 Gender: male Sexuality: heterosexual In The Mirror In Depth Appearance: yellow-green eyes pierce from under his stubborn black hair. Though physically relaxed, the eyes give away that his mind is alert. Robert is slender and slightly taller than most. Because he is too lazy to shave daily, his chin is covered in stubble most of the time. He strides with a combination of authority and enibration. Sometimes one more than the other. It varies. Clothing Style: Robert's colors are mostly black combined with bordeaux red or dark green. He wears plain shirts, hoodies, jeans and boots. Outside he wears his black jacket. Delving Deeper Likes: power writing poetry with quill and ink adventure chocolate chip cookies playing the guitar berries red wine rum Dislikes: poets people who are not up for his ideas people who disrespect him chocolate and fruit combination human stupidity Fears: Being a failure Letting people down Drowning That humanity will destroy itself Habits: running his hand through his hair whistling playing with a coin. Personality: ♦ proud ♦ playful ♦ caring ♦ brooding Robert does what he wants, whenever he wants. Though life often doesn't agree with him. So he comes up with an extravagant plan to make it better, or to fix things. And sometimes it works. And often he gets in trouble even deeper. But he learned how to talk himself in and out of these situations. He doesn't like to be responsible for people, because they will only slow him down. But he feels responsible nevertheless. And often he can use a hand. His 'plans' are often not as much actual plans, as just a means to persuade people in aiding him. Background: Growing up, Robert had a rather normal childhood. In highschool he was one of the more alternative teenagers ofcourse. His most important problem at the time, was how society wanted him to be it's bitch by making him going to school and then study and work. That couldn't be what was meant for him. But other than that, not much weird stuff going on. Philosophy turned out a lot more boring and less enlightening than Robert had hoped. But he didn't want to return home emtpy handed. So he got a job at the library and bided his time in this town. It was even more boring than studying, but at least he could pay the rent and didn't have to put up with pretentious students and professors. But still, far from any great destiny. Despite his cynical attitude about religion in general, and after a night of heavy drinking, he went to church to pray for something good to happen. But as he was about to declare himself officialy crazy and close his eyes to start praying, a man next to him spoke to him. For some reason he quickly figured out Robert's situation and proposed to help him, if Robert did him a small favor. He needed to steal the small crucifix hanging on the wall of the church. Regardless of how the man was going to help him, that sounded like an exciting idea to him. So when the priest wasn't looking, he sneaked out the little artefact. After that, Grimbold asked him over for dinner. And they talked a lot. About life and society. Then Grimbold offered him a chance at a whole new life. Next to his current one. Relationships: Robert views everybody in the group as family. Though family doesn't necessarily means without friction. ♫Eddie ♫ and Robert are buddies. Robert is persuasive and Eddie tends to give in quickly, so Robert drags him along on his plans, more or less willingly. ⚡ Sloane ⚡ and Robert both are strong-willed individuals. This leads to clashes from time to time. Though he has respect for her independence. ♥ Terry ♥ has something very intruiging to Robert. She seems untouchable by his current social vocabulary. It's frustrating. Especially since he finds her rather attractive. ☯ Tobias ☯ is someone that Robert is slightly more careful with. He comes of as distant but dense, so he's just a little less comfortable around him than with the others. ☯ Cara ☯ is oke, but her controlling side is rather annoying. ☮ Nick ☮ is a great younger brother to have. Robert feels sort of a protector role for him. He will teach him the important things in life. Like rum appreciation. ☮ Nina ☮ is on Robert's level. Someone that he can talk with and have fun with. She's like a sister. But she's also hot. which is confusing. ☮Angel☮ Though she is relatively new, Robert gets a good vibe from her. Sharp and fun to hang with. ☮Skylar☮ Warm hearts are good company. Sky is comforting, which Rob needs sometimes. But she's also innocent enough for him to feel a protector role over her. ☯Daniel☯ He seems like a good kid, but Robert has a hard time really connecting with him. Extra: He wears a small flask filled with rum on his belt. Dark powers: Animal Form: Fox power: Loss of focus: For just a second, your thoughts were drifting somewhere else. You weren't paying attention you didn't watch where you were going. And now you walked into that lamppost, or cut yourself with the scissors. You stumbled, you hit your thumb with the hammer. Just your luck.
508	10	62	53	1,622	Cara Osborne Location; Ink Shields Interacting With; Sloane Cara smiled down at Sloane's pet, leaning down to brush a finger over the head of the feline as greeting before standing up once more. "Tea please. It's the one way to my heart." Cara replied. As Sloane walked towards the table filled with goodies, Cara leaned against the counter, her arms crossed against her chest. "Y'know the assignment Gandalf- I mean Grimbold - asked us to do?" She began. It was best to just ask Sloane upfront. Cara was willing to provide Sloane with a helping hand too, unless she already had an idea and wanted to call on this favour some other time. "My target is possibly paranoid. While whispering might do the job, I need your help to make sure she stays inside." Cara had no idea what Gandalf had in store for them all, and while she never questioned his motives, it was strange that these particular people were chosen to be tormented by the critter family until they refused to step outside for a particular day. If Cara was certain that Gandalf wouldn't use her like a pincushion, like he did with the swan, she would've asked. But Cara preferred not to be a pincushion, so that was out. "I'm willing to offer my services to you, should you need any help with your target-- wait, do you even know who yours is?" She asked, swiping the pen on the counter and fiddling with the lid, keeping her hands busy.	Name: Catherine Amaya Osborne Nickname: Cara Birth Date: November 7th Age: Twenty-two Gender: Female Sexuality: Heterosexual In The Mirror In Depth Appearance: Barely reaching 5'1" and weighing only 50kg (110lbs), Cara gives the impression of being cute and harmless. While she likes to be known as cute, harmless is something she's certainly not. The petite girl has an hourglass figure, hips wide but waist slender, usually maintained by her rapid metabolism and strict diet (other than chocolate, Cara can never resist anything chocolatey). Cara has a dimple on her left cheek, an indication of her smiley nature. She also has a naturally tanned complexion, complementing her brown hair and eyes. Speaking of eyes, Cara has wide doe eyed brown orbs, giving her an innocent look which is framed with thick, dark eyebrows. She also has shoulder-length brown hair, thick and kept straight with overgrown fringes that frame her somewhat chubby cheeks perfectly. Clothing Style: Cara loves to dress up, no matter the occasion. She loves to wear various skirts and dresses, as long as it's chic and cute (to match her bubbly-looking appearance). She also likes experimenting with her clothes, so one day she may go for a bold design, or the other she'd wear something simple. Make-up wise, Cara loves to define her eyes, either with some eyeliner or with dark eyeshadow. Lip colours vary depending on her mood or the situation, usually switching from naturals, pinks and bold reds. Deeper Likes: Tea Terrible romance drama films Cycling Reading Chocolate Dislikes: Doing nothing Coffee People who call her a control freak Anything cold Debby-downers Fears: Losing control of her life Suffocating Letting people too close Habits: Tapping her fingers against surfaces Playing with her hair Pouting her lips while in thought Personality: ♦ Kind ♦ Control Freak ♦ Blunt ♦ Stubborn ♦ Manipulative ♦ At first glance, people assume that Cara is docile and harmless, the cutesy one, if you will. However, Cara is anything but docile. She has been known to argue and stand by her points (and values) no matter what, her stubborn streak comparable to that of a boulder. Her stubbornness paired with her controlling personality can make her quite the unpleasant person to hang around with, most of the time. However, Cara refuses to acknowledge herself as a control-freak, that's one thing that would piss her off. Cara is very confident, in herself and her abilities. She is also always found with a smile (whether its fake or genuine, people usually can't tell). Don't get fooled by her sweet smile, however, as Cara can potentially use her 'sweet, innocent appearance' to dupe people. Cara also likes to consider herself honest, but most of her 'honesty' is just the blunt truth. She never sugar-coats her words (unless she's fooling someone), her words usually unfiltered. Overall, Cara can be nice when she needs to be, but piss her off and she can be a vindictive little bitch. Background: Born in the English countryside, in a small town where everyone knew everything, Catherine had a normal childhood. Or, as normal as one could get having seven older siblings. It wasn't like she was neglected or abused in the household, but Catherine knew that she wasn't the most wanted child. Having to compete with seven other children for any attention, Catherine developed into a loud, stubborn child that was hard to reason with unless she was bribed with chocolates. Catherine was encouraged to pick up many hobbies, including dancing and painting alongside furthering her education. Most of her siblings were average students, Catherine included. However, the girl had found her calling in life: to be a surgeon, where she had the contol and power to save lives. The medicine path motivated the girl throughout her childhood and teenage years, making her a hard-working student and achieving good grades even though she wasn't a genius. This remained until Cara finished her secondary education, achieving high grades - especially in science and maths. The girl, during her hunt for a university, stumbled on a town named Tallshade hidden within the forest. Liking the prospect of moving away from the stuffy town, Cara applied immediately for a medical course, before packing up and moving out as soon as she hit eighteen. Cara performed well during the first few years of her medical degree, studying hard and maintaining her work ethic like back at home. Cara met The Mentor during one of her panic-study sessions at the local library. Funnily enough, the girl actually screamed out 'I wish I could get them to listen to me!' before she noticed The Mentor beside her. Offering her powers in exchange doing whatever he wanted, the girl accepted immediately. That was a year ago, and now, Cara loves her life. Position in the group: Cara's desire for control means that she strives to be a leader, even if she's not the best person to lead a team. She likes to consider everybody in the group as friends, or at least some of them, but it doesn't mean that they're exempt to her blunt and bold personality. ☯ Neutral \|\| ☮ Friends \|\| ♫ Best Friends \|\| ♥ Love Interest \|\| 💕 Boyfriend/Girlfriend \|\| ⚡ Rivals \|\| ⚔ Nemesis ☮ Eddie ☮ Sweet guy, but he just needs to stand up for himself. Cara likes Eddie enough to try and tame her bold personality so she doesn't scare him off (even if it's not much difference). Cara doesn't like Nina's tendancy to bully Eddie, which often results in her advising him on ways to defend himself - her advice usually coming out as forceful. ☯ Terry ☯ Cara appreciates her observant nature, knowing that her fake smiles don't work on the quiet girl. Cara tends to just stay away from Terry, more because she doesn't know how to approach her without losing her cool. ☮ Sloane ☮ Bold and proud, Cara definitely likes Sloane, acting friendly enough to her. If she were attracted to women, she would've been attracted to Sloane. ☯ Robert ☯ Robert's playful nature reminds her of an excitable puppy. Cara doesn't mind going along with many of his schemes, as long as she doesn't consider it stupid. Again, like with many of the others, Cara remains friendly with Robert, as long as he doesn't make her feel like she doesn't have control during his schemes. ☮ Toby ☮ He's quite the looker, but withdrawn. She doesn't know much about Toby, and while she's curious, she doesn't bother to ask. There is a possibility that Cara could be attracted to Toby, but its more of a physical thing, rather than an emotional one. ☮ Nick ☮ Like the little brother of the group, Cara can understand what its like to be the youngest sibling, but she doesn't baby Nick either, no matter how adorable he looks in his ferret form. ⚡ Nina ⚡ Nina and Cara have a hot and cold friendship: one day they could get along well enough to watch movies and hang out with each other, the next they could easily grate on each other's nerves. ☮ Angel ☮ Angel is one girl that Cara knows she can have a argument debate with, no matter how heated it may get due to their stubborn nature. Both also from England, Cara likes to think that the two are friends. She doesn't mind showing Angel around Tallshade, since Cara understands what its like to be new in a different environment. Extra: Cara speaks with a hint of a British accent, one of the only hints to her British background. She's trying to give up smoking, after having a little health scare a while ago. powers: Animal Form: Power: Cara has the ability to make people hear whispers. It's not her speaking, but just simple idle chatter as if someone is right behind them, even if no one is there. Serves as a great distraction tool during exam season, though.
509	10	63	28	71	Edward Hansen Location: Castle Street Cafe Interacting with: Tobias , Angel , Sky The bell above the door jingled, and Eddie looked to see Sky enter the cafe. He smiled and waved at her, then turned back to Tobias and Angel. "Yeah, pretty crazy is accurate" he replied to Tobias. Seems like he doesn't want to talk. Best leave him alone. Eddie thought, and turned to face Angel. "Well, last night was a bit heavy compared to other meetings" he said, half to reassure her and half for himself. "Anyway, I won't take up any more of your guys' time. Welcome to the family." he said, before turning and ordering the usual coffees for himself and Robert. That reminds me, wonder what kind of plan will Robert cook up this time? Eddie's mind wandered as he waited for his coffee. Leaning on the far end of the counter, he pulled his phone out and read Robert's text. To: Rob From: Eddie Be there soon, can't wait to hear this plan of yours! Also, kinda weird, there's a lot of people from our "family" at the CSC today. Guess a lot of people didn't sleep well last night. By the time he hit send, his name was called. Eddie grabbed the coffees and headed for the door, smiling at Sky as he passed. The little bell signaled his departure, and Eddie walked toward the library.	Name: Edward Anthony Hansen Nickname: Eddie. Don't call me Ed. Birth Date: January 31st, 1993 Age: 23 Gender: Male Sexuality: Straight In The Mirror In Depth Appearance: Standing at 5' 7" and weighing 200 lbs, Eddie is a bit lumpy, but stays in shape with running. He has light brown hair and a meticulously kept goatee. His eyes are a light green, hiding behind thick black rimmed glasses. Caucasion, with vague traces of ethnicity. A pretty standard American mutt. Clothing Style: Likes solid color shirts with a pocket on the chest, loosely tucked into dark blue jeans. Dirty sneakers at the brink of falling apart. He doesn't usually buy new shoes unless his old pair are unuseable. Delving Deeper Likes: Tinkering Reading (Mostly fiction) Girls with red hair Cracking jokes, being sarcastic Dislikes: Bodily fluids Violence/Tense situations Cats Repetition Fears: Claustrophobic Fire Spiders Habits: Fidgets with his tools (Usually carries around a phillips screwdriver in his pocket, and twists it around when nervous) Loves junk food Prone to laughing in uncomfortable situations Personality: ♦ Honest ♦ Creative ♦ Inquisitive ♦ Timid Eddie is soft-hearted and good natured. Tends to stray away from conflicts and tense situations, and quick to give in to another's will. Enjoys taking things apart, seeing how they work, and attempting to put them back together. Pretty much at home with wherever his toolbox lands. Likes to spend time with friends, but tries to steer any conversation away from debate, especially if he thinks it might get heated. Will usually side with whoever has the greatest show of force, despite his actual feelings. Isn't afraid to do what needs to be done, to an extent. Background: Eddie comes from a broken house, on the outskirts of the nearest city. His mother was abusive, she would bully him into doing what she wanted and threatened to burn the house down when he wouldn't. His father was a gentle understanding man, and did his best to do damage control for his wife. As a result, Eddie decided he would follow his father's lead, which was to try to defuse any possible situation. Growing up, he discovered a fascination with machines, and was eager to practice. Unfortunately, his practice involved taking apart household appliances, sure he could put them back together. But, being inexperienced, kept losing pieces and forgetting the steps to repair them. Then his mother made good on her promise. She set the house on fire, with Eddie and his father inside. Eddie doesn't really remember what happened, but his father didn't make it. His mother was found criminally insane. Years later, Eddie moved to Tallshade. Eddie decided he wanted to go to the university, where he could hone his craft, and get away from bad memories. There he met Grimbold, late one night while out walking. Eddie was immediately enamored. Something about his voice was so warm and comforting... fatherly. He promised Eddie gifts in exchange for Eddie's loyalty and service, to which Eddie eagerly agreed. All he had to do was loosen the screws on a bike so it makes a squeaky sound. Mostly harmless, right? Position in the group: As far as position goes, Eddie would be considered support. He wouldn't dare take a leadership role, any opposition would easily succeed. No, Eddie would much rather be in the back, quietly performing whatever task was required of him. As far as relationships go: Sloane:☯ Eddie doesn't mind Sloane. She pushes him around a little, but no different than most of the people he grew up with. He admires her ability to stand out and be proud. Also, he is attracted to her. Not her looks, necessarily, but the way she carries herself. Though he would never have the courage to say that out loud. Sloane might hit him. Terry:☯ Terry is different from almost anyone Eddie's met from home. She doesn't really yell at or hit him, but he is still terrified of her. The way she looks right through him. She knows he's a coward, Eddie is sure of it. When they first made eye contact, it was like he was watching her read his life story, pulled from his eyes. And she didn't seem impressed. Or sympathetic. Or, anything at all, really. Robert:♫ Eddie and Robert became friends soon after he moved to Tallshade. Robert could easily see the advantages of having a guy who has access to tools, and is easy to persuade, as a friend. Eddie is more willing to take Robert's side, easily taken in by his "plans". Tobias:☯ Seems dangerous, but mostly leaves Eddie alone, which is fine by him. Cara:☮ She's nice to Eddie, if not a little controlling. Sometimes she will give Eddie (strongly worded) advice on various aspects of his life. Eddie will usually go along with it, mostly because he's seen how she reacts to others taking control away. Nick:☮ Eddie likes Nick's impulsiveness, and wants to look out for him, even though he doesn't seem like he needs it. Nina:⚔ Eddie tries to avoid Nina whenever possible, just the same as Nina makes snide comments whenever possible. Extra: Eddie usually carries a few loose screws, nuts, and bolts in his shirt pocket. Never know when you'll need them, right? Also carries a phillips screwdriver in his right pocket. Can usually be seen carrying his toolbox, with an assortment of wrenches, drivers, a hammer, etc. Not a full set, being one that was scavenged over the years, so the tools are also usually in poor condition. Other than that, pretty standard young adult gear. Wallet, phone, etc. Dark powers: Animal Form: German Shepherd Power: Can give metal things static charge. Not enough to power anything, but enough to give people a zap when touched. Eddie can affect any metal object he can see in detail, so if he loses his glasses he can only affect objects he can touch.
510	10	64	2,235	2,290	Skylar Montgomery Location: Castle Street Café Interacting With: Eddie, Toby, and Angel Sky smiled and waved to Eddie as she went up to the counter. "One coffee with extra cream and sugar." She said to the employee across the counter before walking out of the way of anyone else wanting something. What could she say about the sugar and cream, she was a girl of sweet tastes. As soon as she was standing there however she realized how hungry she was. It was probably best to go home and eat though or find somewhere else. This café was pricy and unlucky for her this month she had to give half her paycheck to savings to save up for the student loans she`d get once she entered college. As there was no way in hell she was going to talk to her 'family'. She waved to Eddie as he exited the shop and leaned against the counter side thinking about her mysterious John Doe. She wondered if anyone knew about him. Living in this town for three years and she had never heard his name. They were a large group though, ya never know, someone could know something. Maybe she could interrupt Angel and Toby for a second to ask about it as Terry looked like she didn`t want to be disturbed. Getting the guy to stay inside would be the easy part, it was finding him that was proving difficult. Getting him to stay in would only take her having to scare him to death. Simply reading the dark corners of his mind and causing a bit of paranoia. Just mess the guy up mentally for a day. Causing mental scaring for a day wasn`t something she was too keen on doing, but the guy could handle it for a day. "John Doe, how you aggravate me so," Once her name was called she picked up her coffee and thanked the person behind the counter before walking over to the two. "Hey guys, Sky started to get their attention. "I was wondering if either of you knew anything about a Henry Johnson?	Name: Skylar Jane Montgomery Nickname: Sky or Fawn Birth Date: February 28 Age: 21 Gender: Female Sexuality: Heterosexual In The Mirror In Depth Appearance: Unlike the slim figures of all the other women in the Montgomery family Sky got more of a curvy figure. Along with being 5"2 and having unusual grey eyes it was safe to say she stuck out a bit compared to her four sisters. Freckles dot her face and body being something she loathed as a child and something she`s come to find as apart of who she is as an adult. The sun is usually an enemy because of her pale skin color. Her hair is naturally red and is curly and thick. She`s learned after cutting it short once that it`s best to leave it long, it`s a untamable beast. The redness in her hair varies by season, in summer months it turns copper due to the sun, in winter it turns a crimson red color(her preferred color of her hair). When it comes to make up she would rather skip it for a more natural look, though she does like lipstick. Even though she hides it, because mostly everyone in the group finds her to be the innocent one, she has a tattoo of a broken heart on the right side of her ribcage. The reason behind this tattoo no living soul knows, no one even knows she has it. Clothing Style: Sky`s clothing choices vary by how she feels. On a Friday she might be feeling a edgy black dress with three inch wedges while on a Monday she`d be wearing a white sundress with a light pink sweater. There are also the days where she dresses up like what she calls "witchy" or "hippy" styles. You can be assured whatever she`d wearing always has a necklace though and if she`s not feeling well sweat pants usually follow. Delving Deeper Likes: Music Coffee Strawberry pastries Literature Cats Art Dislikes: Rap Dishonesty Cherry anything Body shaming Public Speaking Drugs Fears: Abandonment Hurting other people Alienation Always being seen as the little sister Habits: When she`s nervous she`ll often start spinning her necklace or a piece of jewelry she`s wearing at the time. As she gets excited she goes from speaking normally to loudly. Whenever she`s uncomfortable she puts her hair into a ponytail. Often stays up way too late at night. Personality: ♦ Clumsy ♦ Wise ♦ Warm-Hearted ♦ Understanding Even as a child most people said she was far beyond her years and as she reached her teen years people started to say she was the wise old woman in a teenager`s body. She tries to understand someone before she says anything against them. This leads to her being very trusting and understanding towards others. The advice she gives to problems is usually a lot more than someone her age should be able to give. It`s also one of her biggest downfalls as others can betray her quite easily. In all she`s rather clumsy and lightheaded, someone could tell her something and she`d forget it in two seconds. This has always been something she`s hated because while she`s very smart no one can see that with how forgetful and sporadic her nature is. In sad situations she feels rather uncomfortable, because while she tries her best to comfort someone she always feels like she`s doing everything wrong. Even though she looks down on herself a lot she does have confidence in her decisions and she believes that believing in yourself is the best thing you can do. She does feel like the owl represents her a lot. Like the owl she prefers being up all night than being awake during the day. It`s also seen as a wise creature and has aspects that she wants for herself, to be more precise and strong are two of them. Background: In her family there`s five daughters, Sky being the youngest. Meaning her childhood was full of hand-me-downs and often being misplaced. Her oldest sister Delilah is seven years older than her. The second and third daughters, Mary and May, are twins and are six years from Sky. Jamie who`s the closest to Sky at only two years apart. When Sky was born her parents had been hoping to finally have a boy. She`s always felt like her father didn`t approve of her because of this. The Montgomery family is known for being a very rich and successful family in a town a few towns away from Tallshade. As she grew up she had trouble trying to convince people she wasn`t a snob like they tried to make her believe. Many people bullied her for her intelligence and the difference of her looks compared to her sisters. Even her sisters would laugh and joke about how she was adopted. It really did make her feel like she had no one, her parents were always working, and it was very easy to just isolate herself in their huge house. Due to all of this she fell into depression and at some points self harmed. In high school she got involved in a lot of bad groups. She often snuck out to get high or drunk with people she thought were her friends. It wasn`t until she was almost 18 that things went completely downhill. At a party she overdosed unintentionally. If the cops hadn`t broken up the party a few minutes later she would have died. In the hospital her family didn`t have anything nice to say to her and only yelled at her for being so irresponsible. They sent her off to a clinic for 6 months and she was released when she turned 18. Instead of going back to her family she broke off all ties to them. She got a job and lived in a small apartment till she finished high school and got a broken heart tattooed on the right side of her ribs. She saved up money and moved to Tallshade to go to college as soon as she had enough money. It was a step by step process. The day she got to Tallshade she went to the Castle Street Café and ordered a cup of coffee and some breakfast. The things she owned were in a small suitcase next to her in the booth. As she sat there silently reading her book an older man came and sat across from her in the booth and ordered a drink from the waitress before looking at her. Sky asked him who he was and they eventually got into a conversation about her life somehow. She found out his name was Grimbold and he asked her if she wanted a way to completely change her life and be in an actual family for once, as long as she did what he said. It took awhile but she agreed and he told her to walk out of the shop and not pay for her coffee or breakfast. It was history after that and she`s been with the group for three years now. She finally has a place where she can be herself. Relationships: Sky thinks of the entire group as her family. As such she has compassion and understanding for all of them. Most she considers as friends and even if she doesn`t feel too confident in a member of their family she still treats them with respect and gives them the benefit of the doubt. ☮ Eddie ☮ - Eddie is a good guy, she finds it interesting to watch him tinker, and talking about fiction books is always fun. Sky always tries to convince him to like cats more. He`s the person she goes too to talk about the books she`s reading at the time. ☯ Terry ☯ - In Sky`s eyes Terry is alright, her observant nature makes her an okay person to talk too, although her crude nature sometimes makes her a bit uncomfortable. ☮ Sloane ☮ - When they first met she knew the woman didn`t think too highly of her, some friendships start out a bit rocky though. In present day she finds Sloane to be a very good friend of hers, even if they don`t agree on rap music. ☮ Rob(Foxy) ☮ - Foxy as she likes to call him. She likes to think of him like the older brother she never had as his middle name happens to be her last name. Like her she also values how he thinks of them like a family. ♥ Toby ♥ - Ever since she met him Sky`s always had a crush on Toby. At first she thought it was just his looks and tried to talk herself out of it. As she got to know him more she found to really like his calm nature and that he himself also had some bad experiences with drugs and such, in which she could relate. ⚡ Cara ⚡ - Cara makes Sky feel rather uneasy. While she seems very nice Sky can feel the other side of her personality and has seen it a few times. This rather scares her. On the outside Sky is usually very nice to her however. ☮ Nick ☮ - Much like most of the group she sees Nick as a younger brother. She likes that if either of them aren`t feeling talkative the other person can rant as long as they want. It can also just be a conversation or sitting in silence. ☯ Nina ☯ - At first Nina seemed like the type of person Sky would never be on great terms with. She was the queen bee in high school while Sky had been the rebellious/druggy girl. As time went on she`s started to become perfectly fine with her. Even if she`s hot tempered and can be rather hard to work with Nina does protect those she cares for and Sky admires that. ☮ Angel ☮ - Angel`s compassion is what Sky appreciates the most about her. Even though she went through some hard stuff in life she still jokes and laughs. In Sky`s eyes she`s the person to go to if you`re having a bad day. ☯ Danny ☯ - Sky can't say she knows Danny too much. He was here before she was. Danny keeps to himself but he's not a bad person at all. She does trust him even if they don't know a ton about eachother. Extra: Dark powers: Animal Form: pic of animal form goes here power: She can hear the darker parts of someone's mind. Regrets, pain, dark secrets, are just a few. When she uses this power it causes paranoia in the victim. Even though she is kindhearted and understanding the old dark side of her understands a lot of the thoughts she receives.
511	10	65	1,713	314	Roseanne Parker Location; Town Hall Interacting With;Julie Tallshade was to be the next stepping stone in her career. Another sport on the ladder she had been climbing all her life. This town was dull and it didn't mean much to her, but it had so much potential! Far away from everything, so much space to grow, natural recources to exploit. Possibitlities for tourism and businesses to start here. The previous mayor had been a man of the people. Down to earth and all the other traits that would never lead to greatness. She, on the other hand, was a businesswoman. She had vision, this town would thrive under her rule. So much profit awaited her. "Julie, I need more coffee here, chop chop!" She told her assistant, whom hurried to the kitchen. The plans for the weekend were ready, and everything was arranged. The people would have a chance to get to know their new mayor. Well, the people of importance at least. Commonfolk was not something she'd want to bother herself with. Though it was hard to discern the more influential characters from the lesser villagers in this town. In the real world, their achievements would mean little. So far. Because she was going to change all that. Everything. This town was going to be born anew. And she needed help with that. She needed to know who she could rely on. Therefore this weekend was going to be very important. The invitations were send, and she couldn't wait to pick her subordinates. The university was one of the few things worth mentioning, that this town had brought forth. The members of the board had all accepted her invitation. She estimated her chances very high, to extend her influence in that direction. Next to that, some people who owned a business that could potentially be useful one way or the other were invited. It was going to be quite a crowded night. And then there was the priest. Roseanne was an atheist, but many people here weren't. The power of religion to control the people, was not to be underestimated. Perhaps he could be an interesting ally.	Name: Robert Montgomery Taylor Nickname: Fantastic Mister Fox, Rob, Foxy Birth Date: january 4th, 1993 Age: 23 Gender: male Sexuality: heterosexual In The Mirror In Depth Appearance: yellow-green eyes pierce from under his stubborn black hair. Though physically relaxed, the eyes give away that his mind is alert. Robert is slender and slightly taller than most. Because he is too lazy to shave daily, his chin is covered in stubble most of the time. He strides with a combination of authority and enibration. Sometimes one more than the other. It varies. Clothing Style: Robert's colors are mostly black combined with bordeaux red or dark green. He wears plain shirts, hoodies, jeans and boots. Outside he wears his black jacket. Delving Deeper Likes: power writing poetry with quill and ink adventure chocolate chip cookies playing the guitar berries red wine rum Dislikes: poets people who are not up for his ideas people who disrespect him chocolate and fruit combination human stupidity Fears: Being a failure Letting people down Drowning That humanity will destroy itself Habits: running his hand through his hair whistling playing with a coin. Personality: ♦ proud ♦ playful ♦ caring ♦ brooding Robert does what he wants, whenever he wants. Though life often doesn't agree with him. So he comes up with an extravagant plan to make it better, or to fix things. And sometimes it works. And often he gets in trouble even deeper. But he learned how to talk himself in and out of these situations. He doesn't like to be responsible for people, because they will only slow him down. But he feels responsible nevertheless. And often he can use a hand. His 'plans' are often not as much actual plans, as just a means to persuade people in aiding him. Background: Growing up, Robert had a rather normal childhood. In highschool he was one of the more alternative teenagers ofcourse. His most important problem at the time, was how society wanted him to be it's bitch by making him going to school and then study and work. That couldn't be what was meant for him. But other than that, not much weird stuff going on. Philosophy turned out a lot more boring and less enlightening than Robert had hoped. But he didn't want to return home emtpy handed. So he got a job at the library and bided his time in this town. It was even more boring than studying, but at least he could pay the rent and didn't have to put up with pretentious students and professors. But still, far from any great destiny. Despite his cynical attitude about religion in general, and after a night of heavy drinking, he went to church to pray for something good to happen. But as he was about to declare himself officialy crazy and close his eyes to start praying, a man next to him spoke to him. For some reason he quickly figured out Robert's situation and proposed to help him, if Robert did him a small favor. He needed to steal the small crucifix hanging on the wall of the church. Regardless of how the man was going to help him, that sounded like an exciting idea to him. So when the priest wasn't looking, he sneaked out the little artefact. After that, Grimbold asked him over for dinner. And they talked a lot. About life and society. Then Grimbold offered him a chance at a whole new life. Next to his current one. Relationships: Robert views everybody in the group as family. Though family doesn't necessarily means without friction. ♫Eddie ♫ and Robert are buddies. Robert is persuasive and Eddie tends to give in quickly, so Robert drags him along on his plans, more or less willingly. ⚡ Sloane ⚡ and Robert both are strong-willed individuals. This leads to clashes from time to time. Though he has respect for her independence. ♥ Terry ♥ has something very intruiging to Robert. She seems untouchable by his current social vocabulary. It's frustrating. Especially since he finds her rather attractive. ☯ Tobias ☯ is someone that Robert is slightly more careful with. He comes of as distant but dense, so he's just a little less comfortable around him than with the others. ☯ Cara ☯ is oke, but her controlling side is rather annoying. ☮ Nick ☮ is a great younger brother to have. Robert feels sort of a protector role for him. He will teach him the important things in life. Like rum appreciation. ☮ Nina ☮ is on Robert's level. Someone that he can talk with and have fun with. She's like a sister. But she's also hot. which is confusing. ☮Angel☮ Though she is relatively new, Robert gets a good vibe from her. Sharp and fun to hang with. ☮Skylar☮ Warm hearts are good company. Sky is comforting, which Rob needs sometimes. But she's also innocent enough for him to feel a protector role over her. ☯Daniel☯ He seems like a good kid, but Robert has a hard time really connecting with him. Extra: He wears a small flask filled with rum on his belt. Dark powers: Animal Form: Fox power: Loss of focus: For just a second, your thoughts were drifting somewhere else. You weren't paying attention you didn't watch where you were going. And now you walked into that lamppost, or cut yourself with the scissors. You stumbled, you hit your thumb with the hammer. Just your luck.
512	10	66	1,552	2,234	Angel Hardwicke Location; Castle Street Café Interacting With; Tobias , Eddie , Skylar "Jesus Toby, you don't mess around, do you?" Angel laughed at his suggestion of breaking the poor guys' legs... she was pretty sure a worst case scenario would be snapping the kid's neck and killing him, but whatever. There were easier things she could make him forget... like locking the front door? She could trash their kitchen, pretend he's had a house party without telling his super-strict parents about it; or get him grounded some other way? She noticed the way Toby had shut Eddie down slightly - not particularly rude, but his tone was certainly shorter with the guy than with Angel. "Thanks Eddie; see you around." She said as he departed, and she then looked back to Toby. "What was your power again? Some thing like predicting the future? Or was it just bad stuff?" She asked, brow furrowing slightly as she tried to recall. "Don't sound like you can do much with your power - maybe I could help you out?" She offered. Suddenly, they were interrupted once more by another member of their family; it struck Angel as certainly weird that so many of the family were showing up, at the same place and same time. It was giving her an unsettling sense of Deja Vu (Ahahaha) from last night. "Henry Johnson?" Angel repeated - the name did sound familiar. "I think maybe he goes to the University? I'm sure I've heard the name before - maybe he studies Psychology?" She suggested, looking at Skylar.	Name: Angeline Megara Hardwicke Nickname: Angel Birth Date: 24th November Age: 20 Gender: Female Sexuality: Heterosexual In The Mirror In Depth Appearance: Angel stands at a less than average height of 5’5, along with a slim hourglass figure, and a heart-shaped face; atop of which sits a mess of chocolate brown curls, often worn in a myriad of different styles, and various shades of brown depending on how she feels like dyeing it. Her eyes are a bright, clear blue, standing out thanks to her dark lashes and brows. Her tanned skin is mostly unmarred, barring tiny scars here and there from scuffles in the past and childhood accidents. Clothing Style: Angel’s clothing style very much changes with the wind and her mood – some days she’ll favour darker clothes in a punk style, paired with heavy make-up and an obvious attitude. Other days she’ll be natural, wearing dresses of various styles and colours and accompanying accessories. And then the day after that she’ll just dress comfortably, wearing jeans and over-sized sweaters. The only clothes that rarely change are her pyjamas – anything with teddy bears. Because teddy bears are awesome, guys. Delving Deeper Likes: Anything fluffy – particularly animals. Face Painting (Well, any form of painting really, but face painting is a fun pastime for her.) Way too Loud music (Particularly rock) Cooking Steak (Cooked blue – any more than that is blasphemy, in her eyes.) Puns, quips, innuendos, and double entendres. (She’ll even sometimes sink so low as to pull the ‘That’s what he/she said’ joke.) Chocolate Day-dreaming ELECTRIC GUITAAAAAARRRRRRR Marvel Nature, and all of her destructive and calm feelings. Dislikes: Marvel-bashers Screamo or death metal Messing up her paintings Nosiness Apathy Slyness Ignorance The ever growing cacophony of irritating sounds often found issuing from children and babies. Fears: Heights Insects and arachnids Dying in some kind of meaningless, pointless manner. Not having left something worthwhile on this earth before she dies. Habits: Humming snatches of songs, or simply guitar riffs, under her breath. Tapping out drum beats. Day dreaming, zoning out, or losing track of a conversation mid-sentence. Clinging to a point rather stubbornly, should she believe she is correct and the other person is wrong. Personality: Entertaining ♦ Stubborn ♦ Opinionated ♦ Warm-Hearted ♦ Sharp Despite the fact her looks – and occasionally scatter-braininess - can make Angel seem like a wee naive girl, she is far from it. She knows far more than she lets on, and she will never let anyone take advantage of her. However, when looking at what Angel truly is like, it is plain to see she can make quite the courteous friend. Not only is she happy to lend an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on, but she gives fairly shrewd advice to people’s problems, in the hopes of helping them. Because of this, she is hardly one to judge others for their acts. One perspective of a story is hardly going to change her opinion of someone. Additionally, she’s quick to make jokes or light-hearted remarks in the hopes of getting someone’s spirits up. Humour rarely fails her, and is a very easy thing to fall back on. As for her stubbornness... well, it’s a miracle her animal form isn’t a Bull. If she has a point in an argument she will fight it as long she believes she is correct – which can definitely cause irritation for others around her, but she does certainly enjoy being right in her views... not that that means she is not open to other people’s opinions. When it comes to hard facts, she will happily accept it if she is wrong in something. As for opinions, everyone is entitled to have them – unless some poor ignorant fool is under the impression that their opinions are indeed facts. In which case, she’s happy to deliver a few sharp words towards said ignoramous. Background: Angel has been living in Tallshade for a good few months now, alongside her younger brother and Uncle. Prior to this, the last time she could remember a normal home life was when she was 9 years old, and still living in England with her brother, and parents. As such, life was pretty good. Her Mother was a Detective, her Father was in the army, and she was doing pretty good in terms of friends and school. Even with an annoying 5-year-old brother hanging around her at all times. Except, this annoying little brother arriving was one of the few good things she could remember in this time of her life – for a few months after her ninth birthday, her Mother died. A police raid gone wrong or something. She was too young to be given all of the details, not that it made it any easier. It had been while her Dad was away, on a tour in some country that she couldn’t pronounce yet. Naturally, he came home early, to attend the funeral and look after his young children. Shortly after this, he left the Army, under Compassionate leave. However, his time abroad had left its mark already – he’d seen such horrors, comrades blown apart before him, that things weren’t so perfect for him mentally. He became paranoid, plagued with nightmares and the inclination that someone had killed his Wife, and was then after him and his two children. Just before Angel’s tenth birthday, their house was sold and they moved to America. From there, they lived a very uncomfortable nomadic lifestyle – travelling from state to state when their Father became certain “people” had followed him there. He acted in the attempt to save his family, and Angel understood that. She knew her Dad was sick, so she just helped look after her brother and kept her head down in school, never really answering truthfully when people asked her why she never stayed for long. However, she knew something had to be done when he grew distrustful of her. Over the years she was maturing into a young lady, body and accent changing – but in her Father’s demented mind, she should still be his little nine year old. She became unrecognizable, and after she came home from school one day at the age of 16, he attacked her, thinking she was some kind of assassin that had broken in. Evading her Father, Angel fled the home with her brother, heading straight to the nearest police station for aid. She knew this would mean social services would get involved, but she couldn’t live with her Dad anymore, not when he was quite capable of killing her and her brother in their sleep. After a few weeks of wrapping their heads around their case, and a few foster homes, social services were able to find a relative of theirs living in America. Although the offer to go back to England was there, Angel decided remaining in the USA was better. She didn’t particularly want to remain in the same country as her Dad (Who was being deported back to the UK to receive mental help), but she knew this life better than her English life. Their fathers cousin – they simply call him Uncle James, it’s easier – happily took them in, being childless himself, and after a few years living in rainy Washington, James’ work had them moved to Tallshade. Now 20 years old, Angel is approaching her final year at University, studying Psychology. Over the years, she has also developed into a low-key rebel. Although not far rebellious enough to joy-ride vehicles or break into houses, she does partake in some amusing deviant acts. Her Uncle is quite lax when it comes to curfews, but had they been in place, she wouldn’t have paid attention to them anyway. Also, as a lover of art, she is quite happy to graffiti the town – nothing as crude as tags, but things that actually look nice. This was how she came across the Mentor. Late one night, she was busy spraying a moonlit lake on a wall when he appeared behind her, at first complimenting her art... and then asking her to spray something for him. Although dubious at first, she swiftly deduced that he wasn’t a cop – a cop would have arrested her already. So, she quite happily sprayed a pentagram on the church wall prior to his instructions (And thoroughly enjoying the irony behind said act), and from there, the conversation grew far more... odd. Now here she is with super-powers like the guys in her favourite movies, and doing things for a guy for reasons unknown to her... Position in the group & Relationships: Quite easily, Angel is the joker of the group. The first to make a quip or crack a joke in a tense situation, and an easy-going source of entertainment. She's also in the younger half of the group, which makes her far more likely to look for support from the older ones - being the caretaker of her brother from a young age, it's a refreshing change. Although happy to take charge if needed, she’s more than at ease to let someone else take the job. ☮Robert☮ The boy is an adventure-loving musician; what's not to love? He isn't too hard on the eyes either... ☮Toby☮ Has a pretty calming air about him. Seems like a dependable friend. ☮Cara☮ Ah. Bluntness. What a refreshing change in this world of political correctness. Also a potential foe when it comes to debating. ☮Nick☮ Hell, the boy can draw. He seems pretty sweet too - although not overly so, thankfully. His bootlegging of alcohol tells me that. ☮Nina☮ If I were to describe her in one word, it would be bitch. But hell, being a bitch isn't always a bad thing. I do admire girls and their claws, and she's got the sharpest of them all. Quite the hellion one looks for in a friend. ☯Eddie☯ Seems kind of meek, not really one to stand up for himself. Which is slightly irritating, but hey, the guy hasn't done anything bad to me. ☯Sloane☯ A fellow admirer of art, and isn't irritating so far. ⚡Teryn⚡ Ugh. I admire stubbornness, but clinging to one's opinions when proven wrong is pathetic. Lady also has some severe issues with everything and everyone, it would seem. Also, she hates dogs. Who hates dogs? THEY'RE SO FLUFFY! ☮Skylar☮ Reminds me of me, somewhat – although she seems sweeter than myself. A good friend – almost motherly, which is appreciated more than she knows. ☯Daniel☯ He seems nice enough, but is almost like a puzzle – one which I am itching to try and solve. Extra: Likes to partake in some underage drinking – moreso than what one would consider to be healthy. Dotes on the family dog – a clumsy Alsatian by the name of Dexter. Is a supreme geek lord – will thrash your ass in any trivia in regards to her favourite fantasy novels or media. Thanks to an extremely paranoid crazy army dad, was taught how to use Morse Code from a very young age. Dark powers: Animal Form: Black Coyote Power: Déjà Vu: Can give the feeling of Déjà Vu to anyone, by wiping their memory from the past few seconds – this can cause slight disorientation, or simply a repetition of a phrase or sentence. Useful if she needs to record or remember a conversation, or slip away without them realising.
513	10	67	1,228	2,368	Sloane Shields Location: Ink Shields Interacting with Cara As Sloane prepared the tea, she was listening silently. Even when Cara would pause, she would wait; she had made the right choice by simply being direct and upfront with Sloane because she clearly didn't have much interest in chit chat. By the time Cara was done speaking, the artist was stalking back over, stepping over her cat. When she stopped in front of the other, she scowled pointedly at the pen she was playing with and held the tea out to her instead. "It's hot," she warned simply before stalking back around the counter. "No clue. Probably at the university since I don't know the name," Sloane answered, adding the name: "Miles Hemlock." Cara was a student, maybe she had heard of him. Still, she had Cara's request to address as well, so she continued. "Feel like paranoid should make it easier. But yeah, I can help." She nodded a bit. "Worse comes to worse, just break his legs. What's he gonna do then?" The smile that touched her lips at the suggestion of assaulting someone was a little too genuine.	You should never feel afraid to become a piece of art. Personal Information NAME Sloane Shields NICKNAMES Ona: given to her by her grandfather, but only her immediate family wastes time giving her name an extra syllable. Lo: she was first called this by her high school sweetheart and resents it being used by anyone else. BIRTH DATE November 21, 1990 AGE 25 GENDER Female SEXUALITY Bisexual In The Mirror APPEARANCE Her pale green eyes stand out the most: although mostly a light and icy green, flecks of deeper emerald and gold dot the irises. She tends to wear dark eyeliner and eye shadow that compliments the color. Sloane’s skin is dark brown in contrast, and she wears make up to accent her high cheekbones. Her dreadlocks are dark brown–nearly black–in color and are styled like a Mohawk with both sides shaved close to her scalp. She walks with a tall, confident demeanor and tends to wear a combination of tight pants and layered tanktops to show off her tattoo sleeves. Toned arms and legs stretch far, emphasizing her height and slimness–high heels help, too. Her nails are typically painted black, but are sometimes accented with whites, golds, reds, or purples as well. She also has tattoos behind her ear, neck, on her back and legs, hips, below her chest, and..elsewhere. Said tattoos include but are not limited to her zodiac sign, favorite quote, a semi-colon, and tribal designs. When it comes to jewelry, she has small gauges in her ears and long necklaces that dangle over her chest. She’ll sometimes have thick bracelets and rings on, as well. In her heels, she stands over 6' tall and weighs about 140 lbs. Notable tattoos: due to her dark skin, plain black tattoos are less than flashy. So she uses a lot of color in her work. On her left wrist is a compass, splattered with water color ink. The compass bleeds up her arm and into the rest of her sleeve. On the inside of her opposite arm is her first tattoo, gotten while taking Latin her freshmen year of high school: carpe noctem is scripted in hard, bold letters. This arm is sleeved, too, and compliments the phrase though overall it's not as colorful as her left arm. On her back is a decorated tree, decorated with reds and oranges. Finally, "1988" scripted on the side of her left ring finger. This is Winston's--her high school sweetheart's--birth year. These aren't all of her tattoos, but probably her most notable / important ones. CLOTHING A little athletic, a little slutty, all sexy: Sloane has a lean, beautiful body and she isn't afraid to show it off or the tattoos that decorate it. Her style can be described as a little grunge and a little street; she's always looks ready to go to a club. And unless she's working out, she's wearing heels. Sample wardrobe: X X X X X X X X Delving Deeper ♦ Ambitious ♦ Cold ♦ Creative ♦ Independent PESONALITY When it comes to people, she can come off friendly enough, though she’s rather apathetic behind the smiles. She’s far more interested in art and animals and magic, but she recognizes the importance and usefulness in others. Still, when her mood is soured, she can be sadistic and cruel to those she feel has wronged her–though, at times, she finds herself acting pointlessly cruel sometimes out of impatience or defensiveness. Needless to say, Sloane tends to look out for herself before others. However, she can easily bond with another over similar interests. She likes being active and loves to travel when she’s commissioned for a tattoo from someone out of town. Her less-than-conservative style stands out in a small town and she welcomes rumors of her being in a cult or a witch or in a gang or anything. LIKES Animals Art (tattoos, photography, paint, you name it) Foreign movies Tea Dance and rap Cities DISLIKES People (especially dull men) Feeling dumb: she dropped out of high school so, while clever, she isn't educated. And this can lead her to feeling self conscious about her intelligence. Fast food Boy bands Ross from FRIENDS FEARS Death Weakness Intimacy HABITS Playing with her hair StaringDoodling if she has a pen or pencil in hand BACKGROUND Sloane was born to an interracial couple (most notably of Sudanese and Iranian descent among others), but was raised by her mother and grandfather. There isn't much else to be said for the early years of her life because she was raised happily and healthily. Her sense of style growing up scared away potential friends, as she tended to take on a gothic/emo appearance, but she was content. And she was particularly happy when her first boyfriend (who on the surface was an idiot but friendly jock) asked her out and they became an item. They were happy together for only about six months: A particularly romantic Valentines Day led to a teen pregnancy with her first boyfriend. With support from both their families, she had planned to raise it with him. However, he died in an accident and she put the baby up for adoption instead--this being her biggest regret and a decision she made out of grief. Then she dropped out of her sophomore year of high school to become a tattoo artist. Neither her grandfather nor mother were very happy, but they tried to be supportive due to the tragic loss. While other people studied through and graduated from high school, Sloane spent those years studying the art of tattoos. She was a fast learner and talented artist. And now, at 25, she owns her own tattoo shop and apartment above it: Ink Shields. It's of course popular with university students, but she gets both people travelling far and paid extra to leave town for her artwork. It was soon after dropping out of high school that the Mentor appeared before her and gave her first task: key some guy's car. She was in a vulnerable place emotionally and psychologically, so she did. And the powers and the sense of family that came with them allowed her to toughen up and grow into the woman she is today. RELATIONSHIPS What I'm thinking so far (correct me if I'm mischaracterizing anyone): Sloane can come off as the stern but caring big-sister type. However, the latter is a lot harder to see, and she has little patience for weaknesses in herself or others. Terry: likes Terry enjoys her company as they have a lot of common--including the types of issues they face being a minority in a small town. She sees herself in Terry. Eddie: she has nothing against Eddie personally, but he seems to lack spine. She's impatient and snippy with him, partly because he just lets her. Robert: Finds him impulsive and obnoxious, but she knows there's more to him than that. He's not afraid to speak his mind, which she can at least respect. Cara: she comes off as friendly enough, but Sloane has seen the control freak side as well. She doesn't really mind allowing Cara to do what she wants, it's usually harmless to her. Toby: Dick. Sloane is p sure he's afraid of her since he doesn't always speak up. Makes her want to antagonize him more. Nina: They're both powerful, confident, and ambitious. So alike that they clash: Nina is really the only other member she considers worthy of rivalry. Nick: He's refreshing and bright--probably partly because he's the youngest of the group. But she admires his work and sees potential in Nick. Probably particularly protective of him. Angel: She doesn't have a problem with Angel; the girl seems tough as nails and Sloane admires her confidence. She's not ignorant to the issues between her and Terry, though, and would like to see them get along. Sky: Sloane was less than impressed with Sky when they first meant, but the woman's kindness and wisdom grew on her over time. And while she considers her a friend, she's also attracted to her as a person. EXTRA She has a Maine Coon named Nox. Her favorite color is deep red and she likes the scent of leather. Song: Life in Her Yet by Rag’n’Bone Man and Muse by OCAD. Dark Powers ANIMAL FORM Sloane's deer form is, of course, black as coal. However, she's relatively large for what would be a female deer, but nothing impossible for the species. Ironically, deer--especially does--are docile creatures whereas Sloane is anything but; however, she shares its lean, graceful figure and long limbs. POWER Umbra: Sloane can darken and manipulate shadows to a small degree, creating what would otherwise be a trick of the eye. She has exercised control over the power; however, her mental state can easily affect her control. Rage or depression can cause the lights to flicker and dim.
514	10	68	53	1,622	Cara Osborne Location; Ink Shields Interacting With; Sloane "Miles Hemlock." Cara parrotted, taking the steaming cup of tea with a nod of thanks. Dropping Sloane's pen back onto the counter, Cara wrapped both hands around the cup, letting the hot ceramic warm up her fingers. The best thing about tea, Cara decided, was the comfort it could bring. Not only did it taste divine, but it helped keep one warm on a cool February morning. "Sounds familiar, but can't really place it." Cara made a mental note to keep an eye - ear - out for that name. If it was familar, it should crop up somewhere. Cara laughed at Sloane's dark suggestion. "I don't know about you, but I quite like having my criminal record clean." Taking a sip of the tea, she sighed at the taste. 'Yep, divine.' "I'll ask around for mister Hemlock, someone in class should know him. Or of him." Cara offered. "I think I'll try and scare Janet. Do you think she'll be terrified of a snake in her room?" Cara asked. Of course, the snake idea was a joke, it was more likely that she'd be terrified and end up calling the exterminator. And possibly attract unwanted attention on the family. ...yeah, not a good idea.	Name: Catherine Amaya Osborne Nickname: Cara Birth Date: November 7th Age: Twenty-two Gender: Female Sexuality: Heterosexual In The Mirror In Depth Appearance: Barely reaching 5'1" and weighing only 50kg (110lbs), Cara gives the impression of being cute and harmless. While she likes to be known as cute, harmless is something she's certainly not. The petite girl has an hourglass figure, hips wide but waist slender, usually maintained by her rapid metabolism and strict diet (other than chocolate, Cara can never resist anything chocolatey). Cara has a dimple on her left cheek, an indication of her smiley nature. She also has a naturally tanned complexion, complementing her brown hair and eyes. Speaking of eyes, Cara has wide doe eyed brown orbs, giving her an innocent look which is framed with thick, dark eyebrows. She also has shoulder-length brown hair, thick and kept straight with overgrown fringes that frame her somewhat chubby cheeks perfectly. Clothing Style: Cara loves to dress up, no matter the occasion. She loves to wear various skirts and dresses, as long as it's chic and cute (to match her bubbly-looking appearance). She also likes experimenting with her clothes, so one day she may go for a bold design, or the other she'd wear something simple. Make-up wise, Cara loves to define her eyes, either with some eyeliner or with dark eyeshadow. Lip colours vary depending on her mood or the situation, usually switching from naturals, pinks and bold reds. Deeper Likes: Tea Terrible romance drama films Cycling Reading Chocolate Dislikes: Doing nothing Coffee People who call her a control freak Anything cold Debby-downers Fears: Losing control of her life Suffocating Letting people too close Habits: Tapping her fingers against surfaces Playing with her hair Pouting her lips while in thought Personality: ♦ Kind ♦ Control Freak ♦ Blunt ♦ Stubborn ♦ Manipulative ♦ At first glance, people assume that Cara is docile and harmless, the cutesy one, if you will. However, Cara is anything but docile. She has been known to argue and stand by her points (and values) no matter what, her stubborn streak comparable to that of a boulder. Her stubbornness paired with her controlling personality can make her quite the unpleasant person to hang around with, most of the time. However, Cara refuses to acknowledge herself as a control-freak, that's one thing that would piss her off. Cara is very confident, in herself and her abilities. She is also always found with a smile (whether its fake or genuine, people usually can't tell). Don't get fooled by her sweet smile, however, as Cara can potentially use her 'sweet, innocent appearance' to dupe people. Cara also likes to consider herself honest, but most of her 'honesty' is just the blunt truth. She never sugar-coats her words (unless she's fooling someone), her words usually unfiltered. Overall, Cara can be nice when she needs to be, but piss her off and she can be a vindictive little bitch. Background: Born in the English countryside, in a small town where everyone knew everything, Catherine had a normal childhood. Or, as normal as one could get having seven older siblings. It wasn't like she was neglected or abused in the household, but Catherine knew that she wasn't the most wanted child. Having to compete with seven other children for any attention, Catherine developed into a loud, stubborn child that was hard to reason with unless she was bribed with chocolates. Catherine was encouraged to pick up many hobbies, including dancing and painting alongside furthering her education. Most of her siblings were average students, Catherine included. However, the girl had found her calling in life: to be a surgeon, where she had the contol and power to save lives. The medicine path motivated the girl throughout her childhood and teenage years, making her a hard-working student and achieving good grades even though she wasn't a genius. This remained until Cara finished her secondary education, achieving high grades - especially in science and maths. The girl, during her hunt for a university, stumbled on a town named Tallshade hidden within the forest. Liking the prospect of moving away from the stuffy town, Cara applied immediately for a medical course, before packing up and moving out as soon as she hit eighteen. Cara performed well during the first few years of her medical degree, studying hard and maintaining her work ethic like back at home. Cara met The Mentor during one of her panic-study sessions at the local library. Funnily enough, the girl actually screamed out 'I wish I could get them to listen to me!' before she noticed The Mentor beside her. Offering her powers in exchange doing whatever he wanted, the girl accepted immediately. That was a year ago, and now, Cara loves her life. Position in the group: Cara's desire for control means that she strives to be a leader, even if she's not the best person to lead a team. She likes to consider everybody in the group as friends, or at least some of them, but it doesn't mean that they're exempt to her blunt and bold personality. ☯ Neutral \|\| ☮ Friends \|\| ♫ Best Friends \|\| ♥ Love Interest \|\| 💕 Boyfriend/Girlfriend \|\| ⚡ Rivals \|\| ⚔ Nemesis ☮ Eddie ☮ Sweet guy, but he just needs to stand up for himself. Cara likes Eddie enough to try and tame her bold personality so she doesn't scare him off (even if it's not much difference). Cara doesn't like Nina's tendancy to bully Eddie, which often results in her advising him on ways to defend himself - her advice usually coming out as forceful. ☯ Terry ☯ Cara appreciates her observant nature, knowing that her fake smiles don't work on the quiet girl. Cara tends to just stay away from Terry, more because she doesn't know how to approach her without losing her cool. ☮ Sloane ☮ Bold and proud, Cara definitely likes Sloane, acting friendly enough to her. If she were attracted to women, she would've been attracted to Sloane. ☯ Robert ☯ Robert's playful nature reminds her of an excitable puppy. Cara doesn't mind going along with many of his schemes, as long as she doesn't consider it stupid. Again, like with many of the others, Cara remains friendly with Robert, as long as he doesn't make her feel like she doesn't have control during his schemes. ☮ Toby ☮ He's quite the looker, but withdrawn. She doesn't know much about Toby, and while she's curious, she doesn't bother to ask. There is a possibility that Cara could be attracted to Toby, but its more of a physical thing, rather than an emotional one. ☮ Nick ☮ Like the little brother of the group, Cara can understand what its like to be the youngest sibling, but she doesn't baby Nick either, no matter how adorable he looks in his ferret form. ⚡ Nina ⚡ Nina and Cara have a hot and cold friendship: one day they could get along well enough to watch movies and hang out with each other, the next they could easily grate on each other's nerves. ☮ Angel ☮ Angel is one girl that Cara knows she can have a argument debate with, no matter how heated it may get due to their stubborn nature. Both also from England, Cara likes to think that the two are friends. She doesn't mind showing Angel around Tallshade, since Cara understands what its like to be new in a different environment. Extra: Cara speaks with a hint of a British accent, one of the only hints to her British background. She's trying to give up smoking, after having a little health scare a while ago. powers: Animal Form: Power: Cara has the ability to make people hear whispers. It's not her speaking, but just simple idle chatter as if someone is right behind them, even if no one is there. Serves as a great distraction tool during exam season, though.
515	11	0	923	5,303		\| The Apostle \| Syrenia Iliandur Early Twenties Syrenia is a descendant of Iliandur, although which dynastic line is particularly unknown due to the effects of her rebirth. With flowing pink-colored hair and blue eyes, Syrenia has a naturally soft appearance; though she is not as petite as she appears. Standing at 5’3”, Syrenia is shorter than most considering the average height of a woman of Iliandur was nearly three or so inches greater. In her time as a clerical knight of Iliandur the training Syrenia was forced to endure has given her a physical conditioning that has shaped her physique to be durable yet flexible, though her training like many others did not block her from an early demise. Whilst Syrenia was a girl of faith, she was also a daughter of a scientist thus her viewpoint isn’t as nearly as naively optimistic as some of her peers were. This background taught her to be practical in her life and in her views, though that practicality did not stop her from being killed in the vicious way that she was. However, practicality did not impede her from the religious ideology that was ingrained within her nor did it remove her of her compassion or sincerity for others. Whilst she might be quick to point out that something is impractical or unwise, it will not always stop her from acting; though the new world she will experience might test those very views. Skilled Archer — The clerical knights of Iliandur were capable archers as well as swordsmen and priests. During her lifetime preceding the Inalienable Dreamless Syrenia was trained as an inquisitor; the formal title given to apostles of the Grand Cleric and guardians of peace. Apostle – As part of her training as a clerical knight Syrenia was taught how to channel the energies from holy relics to use minor holy magic with such as small blessings, wards, and other spells. Without an artifact Syrenia lacks something to draw from and even with her gift of rebirth she lacks the knowledge to draw from her own soul. Daughter of an Alchemist – Whilst she remembers little with the rebirth process, Syrenia was the daughter of an alchemist and was taught since childhood about the process of potion-making and general herbalism for the benefit of others. This also grants her a minor knowledge about toxicology if and when it comes back to her. Inquistor's Quiver — Stripped of her bow, Syrenia retains her quiver though it has been stripped of all of her arrows. Clerical Knight's Armor — Syrenia’s armor as a clerical knight was crafted for a mobile fighter that could allow quick movement with limited but sufficient protection. However much of it has been lost to time and by the thieving hands of fallen humanity. What remains of her armor has been restored from the decay of time; but it is apparent that she is missing a shoulder spaulder. The cloth underneath the armor remains though its color has faded. Satchel – With her backpack stolen, it is a surprising relief that Syrenia has anything to hold scattered potions, coin, and objects at all. A small holding capacity, but it is better than nothing. Holy Conduit — Perhaps as a nod to her origins as a clerical knight, Syrenia has been gifted with the holy energies of Helstar & Aegis that drown her soul in potent holy magic. The abilities of this gift are varied but unknown to her; allowing herself to serve as a divine conduit the purity of her soul can heal, cure, or revive and perhaps purify or smite.
516	11	1	923	5,303	At the bottom of The Hollows was what the remnants of humanity called The Pit, a long since abandoned chamber that had drawn much darkness due to the nature of its existence as a desperate domain to revitalize the efforts of humanity’s survival and to refuse the fate of their now accursed existence. It was true, of course, that the apocalypse that they called the Inalienable Dreamless had damned humanity to a fate that was worse than death as harrowing monsters and vile demons now roamed the world before them with a hunger for destruction that could not be sated. But how far would humanity’s desperation take them? The answer lied in what remained in The Hollows’ darkest corners and deepest chambers. However, humanity’s darkest hour was not the only thing that existed in this well of sorrow, this pit of lost souls— for it was here on this day that the gods would look back upon humanity and in the mounds of corpses, pools of blood, and stench of decay that seven would reawaken as their lips once again gasped for air as the flinching pain of the death they had been absolved from would be their last clear memory. The first to awaken had hair of pink and sapphire of eyes, her body face down in a pool of crimson. Only moments ago had she been lifeless as she laid in an everlasting purgatorial state— as she had for some amount of years. Her fists clenched in the shallow pool, grasping onto the debris of cracked stone that lied underneath, her body shaking painfully before she rose her head out of the pool in a painful gasp as the crimson water came flooding out of her lungs. What? The girl continued to cough for some amount of minutes as her eyes widened, her body adjusting to its sudden revitalization considering the last thing that was felt was the battering of an enemy’s maul and the pressure of a metal-entrenched boot upon the neck as blood filled her lungs. The pink-haired girl remembered drowning, choking… and the blackness of death. But as her senses came back to her, painful as they were there was one thing she knew even in the haze of pain and confusion— this place was nothing like the one she remembered losing her life upon. A death that to her felt like seconds ago. …this isn’t right. Before she could compose herself any further the sound of six succeeding gasps and murmurs of pain could be heard from all across the bottom of the chamber-like pit she had awoken within. A frown forming on her lip as she clumsily made to her feet, instinctively grabbing for a now missing bow in nervous anxiety. Where am I? What happened to my bow? The battlefield I was on? Who dragged me here? Why? She didn’t know what was going on. All she knew was that the chamber smelled like rot, looked abhorrent, and felt wrong. Her eyes shot down to that of a rusted sword that laid in the blood and filth-entrenched pool of water. She was little good with a sword, but she was trained in it as far as she could recall; if the shuffle of others in this abhorrent place was precedent of a battle to occur than she needed to at least be able to defend herself from harm. She may of have been an archer first and all things second, but she couldn’t be choosy considering what little she remembered and where upon she had awakened. Damnation. It's better than nothing. She swiped the sword from the pool as she walked backward— back against the wall. By Lyriel's blessing, what is going on?	\| The Apostle \| Syrenia Iliandur Early Twenties Syrenia is a descendant of Iliandur, although which dynastic line is particularly unknown due to the effects of her rebirth. With flowing pink-colored hair and blue eyes, Syrenia has a naturally soft appearance; though she is not as petite as she appears. Standing at 5’3”, Syrenia is shorter than most considering the average height of a woman of Iliandur was nearly three or so inches greater. In her time as a clerical knight of Iliandur the training Syrenia was forced to endure has given her a physical conditioning that has shaped her physique to be durable yet flexible, though her training like many others did not block her from an early demise. Whilst Syrenia was a girl of faith, she was also a daughter of a scientist thus her viewpoint isn’t as nearly as naively optimistic as some of her peers were. This background taught her to be practical in her life and in her views, though that practicality did not stop her from being killed in the vicious way that she was. However, practicality did not impede her from the religious ideology that was ingrained within her nor did it remove her of her compassion or sincerity for others. Whilst she might be quick to point out that something is impractical or unwise, it will not always stop her from acting; though the new world she will experience might test those very views. Skilled Archer — The clerical knights of Iliandur were capable archers as well as swordsmen and priests. During her lifetime preceding the Inalienable Dreamless Syrenia was trained as an inquisitor; the formal title given to apostles of the Grand Cleric and guardians of peace. Apostle – As part of her training as a clerical knight Syrenia was taught how to channel the energies from holy relics to use minor holy magic with such as small blessings, wards, and other spells. Without an artifact Syrenia lacks something to draw from and even with her gift of rebirth she lacks the knowledge to draw from her own soul. Daughter of an Alchemist – Whilst she remembers little with the rebirth process, Syrenia was the daughter of an alchemist and was taught since childhood about the process of potion-making and general herbalism for the benefit of others. This also grants her a minor knowledge about toxicology if and when it comes back to her. Inquistor's Quiver — Stripped of her bow, Syrenia retains her quiver though it has been stripped of all of her arrows. Clerical Knight's Armor — Syrenia’s armor as a clerical knight was crafted for a mobile fighter that could allow quick movement with limited but sufficient protection. However much of it has been lost to time and by the thieving hands of fallen humanity. What remains of her armor has been restored from the decay of time; but it is apparent that she is missing a shoulder spaulder. The cloth underneath the armor remains though its color has faded. Satchel – With her backpack stolen, it is a surprising relief that Syrenia has anything to hold scattered potions, coin, and objects at all. A small holding capacity, but it is better than nothing. Holy Conduit — Perhaps as a nod to her origins as a clerical knight, Syrenia has been gifted with the holy energies of Helstar & Aegis that drown her soul in potent holy magic. The abilities of this gift are varied but unknown to her; allowing herself to serve as a divine conduit the purity of her soul can heal, cure, or revive and perhaps purify or smite.
517	11	2	2,786	800	XEGA ”Wh-why…? Why here? I was not meant...not here...I can’t...die…” Pale, thin hands grasped futilely at the haft of the spear sticking out of his chest. Even touching it sent waves of pain through him. He vomited, his own blood. Suddenly he was on the ground--why weren’t his legs working? Everything...was...cold...and… Cracked lips parted and drew breath. Lungs that had atrophied, shriveled, suddenly began to inflate again, their long dried flesh somehow filled with life giving blood again, their veins beginning to swell. A heart beat, forcing new life through the mummified tissues like squeezing water through a dry-rotted hose. Violent coughing, a body jerking in agony as muscles unused for who knew how long were forced to spasm and stretch. A scream. A sucking chest wound began to exhale as it pushed out a rusty spearhead. The corroded metal clattered to the ground. Xega opened his eyes, blue sparks dancing through them. He suddenly jerked up, as if from a dream. As he did so, the corpses he was lying underneath rolled away, further down the pile, until they landed with a splash in a pool of fetid, blood-hued fluid. Was it water, stained by the blood of the corpses? Or something else, dripping and flowing from some ungodly creature’s lair? “...How?” He opened and closed his fingers, felt his arms. He had been dead. He knew it. He had been dead, and yet now he was not. Now his wounds were gone and he was alive and he could breathe. He did so now, a deep, shuddering breath. He looked around the room, taking everything in. Piles of corpses. Stone floors...some unspeakable, nameless mass of flesh suspended from up high. A tower of some sort. Stairs, a walkway. Braziers...still burning. Who was here? Movement, near the wall. He snapped his head around, holding up one hand...a woman, with a sword. Pink hair. Small of frame, but something about the way she stood with the rusty implement that spoke of training. Fear and confusion in her face. “Who are you?” he spoke, pushing on the corpses below himself to stand up. His voice carried a tone of superiority, despite his uncertainty--for indeed, if anything was certain, it was that he, Xega, had already apparently trumped Death once, and that he would not be cowed by fear of the unknown, not on his pride as a researcher. “What is this place?” He almost stumbled as he made his way down the pile, his robes--now tattered and torn--catching on a limb and his feet unsteady on the pliant, dead flesh of others. But soon he stood on solid ground--his legs shook, but he hid it with a sweep of his cape--and faced the woman. He waited for her to answer, his eyes casting further glances about the room. Where was his staff? His foci? Their protective runes should have kept robbers from them, and they had been with him when he fell...	\| The Magus \| Xega Xir Early Twenties Xega, as a studious mage of one of the most prestigious academies of Xir--though he can't remember which one--has the frail form one would associate with such. At a height of five feet and eleven inches, he stands just short of the standard many might consider "manly," but then most mages weren't concerned with such matters of primitive brawn. He barely weighs one hundred and forty pounds, and has woman-like features especially about his face and slender, nimble fingers. Currently, immediately after his Rebirth, his eyes bear deep lines beneath them and his cheeks are sunken; his illustrious, deep purple hair is now messy and looks as if it hadn't been washed in days. Xega is self-centered and arrogant, and considers himself an intellectual only concerned with his pursuits of arcane mystery. He finds such things as physical strength and athleticism to be beneath him, and considers those who would employ such against him to be barbarians--and yet, like any man of the mind, he finds himself infuriatingly helpless against such overpowering brawn. Xega cannot stand not knowing the answer to a question, and will maddeningly seek a solution with relentless zeal. His excitement can be contagious, as despite his normal introversion, if he can connect with someone about his studies he becomes much more personable. Skilled Magician - Xega was a graduate student of his academy, pursuing research and conducting experiments alongside some of the finest minds of Xir. As such, his command of the arcane arts is considerably mighty. Fulgurmancy - Xega's preferred forms of battlecraft, the magics of conflict, involves the use of controlled lightning. With it he can produce bolts or streams of white hot lightning to electrocute and scorch his enemies. The short lived nature of lightning, however, makes it hard to use defensively or to maintain a spell for long periods. Sharp Mind - As one who has researched and studied for such a large portion of his life, and being naturally intelligent and inquisitive, Xega is equipped to handle many a mystery or mental puzzle with relative ease. Wizard's Staff - A hardwood staff of about six feet, its last third of length seemingly naturally grown into the shape of a plaited braid. It curls slightly, forming a hook onto which to attach Xega's magus foci. The staff itself merely provides a means of gesture and focus, as well as a last line of defense. Runes are etched into its surface, their protective wards being the only thing that kept the staff from being stolen from his corpse. Crystal Lantern - This shining brass lantern holds within it a crystal of condense arcane power, which serves as a collector of ambient magical energies and a focus for Xega to use to reduce the strain on himself when channeling the Arcane Stream. Its magics are bonded specifically to Xega himself, making it useless to anyone else, and some of the same runes that protected the staff protected it as well. Book Satchel - Once, this satchel held Xega's tomes of sorcery. They have been looted from his former corpse, however, all but one--a basic textbook that was already far outdated in Xega's own time, and is now so dry rotted and yellowed as to be practically illegible. Runesight - A gift that can only be from Arcanus himself, Xega will find that at certain times magical runes appear within the depths of his black pupils, which dilate to a much larger size as if engulfing a void. These runes confer upon him powerful magic sight, granting him visions of "true nature," which sometimes include not just what something truly "is," but perhaps, if the target of his sight is now broken, a vision of what it "once was." It cannot be activated by Xega's own will as of yet, though he struggles to understand it and use it as he would all his other magics. A fitting power, for one whose life is driven by endless thirst for knowledge.
518	11	3	465	6,811	Edoric jolted awake, something had stirred him from his deathly slumber. He went to take his first breath, only to be met with a lung full of... blood? After suffocating on his own vomit as he violetnly wriggled like a fish on land, he managed to maneuver himself onto his knees where he could properly clear his lungs. He stared at the pool of red that had formed under him, how his salvia had mixed with the crimson liquid to form blood trails that still hung on his cracked lips like red spider webs. He could feel his eyes dialting in and out as they got used to being of use once more and slowly brought the man into the persepctive of his world. And boy was it not pretty. First thing Edoric noticed was the pile of bodies laying before him, all hallowed and emanciated with faces carved of suffering and agony. Edoric wanted to vomit it again, but this time only a thin trickle of blood dribbled out, followed by bitter bile that he forced himself to swallow. As his breathing increased and his heart began to kickstart itself, he could feel him hands grasping at the cold, hard stone floor to try and pull his legs free from the mount of pained corpses whose outstretched, boney arms begged for Edoric's assistance. Giving in, he pulled his leg free and reflectively kicked one of the arms he thought was still moving towards him; a sickening crunch followed as the marrow and bone broke and toppled over in a way that no arm should, the sinew to weak to hold on to the broken limb. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to curl up and bawl empty tears like he was a child again. But yet, he didn't. He held on to his mind (and probably his sanity) with all dear hope he could muster out, shutting his eyes as to try and end this horrid vision of death and decay as if it was all some bad dream and he'd wake up on a nice comfy bed soon enough. But there was no bed, for twas no dream. Twas a nightmare. O-o-oh ka-ka-kayyy... ju-just ke-e-epppp k-kk-kalm um-umm... e-er-er... E-Edward? N-noe... Eb-Ebadlian? N-n-no... Edoric racked his dusty, decripet mind for his own name as the tried to shut out the sights and smells around him, but the stentch of death and rot was overbearing and caused him to gag on his own breath before coming to his name. E-Ed-Edoric w-w-w-was itttt? Y-yes... T-twas m-my na-nam-me... I-I-I th-thinnnk? With his namely firmly in tow, the man began to fill in some of the other holes he had. He was Edoric of a family name he couldn't recall, a merchant of sorts from Zeal? No, Sith. Nonono, that also wans't right. It was Sikth, ahhh yes, that was the place. He had wandered from place to place to trade and deal in goods... maybe with comrades? Or was he always alone? Clasping his hands on to his shaking head, the ringing and clinging of chains heralded his hearing back into the world. Slowly, he lowered his hand unto his vision. Chains? Edoric shook them once. They jangled. He shook them again. They danced to a rusted tune. The chains were real alright, a quick look down revealed that there were more chains around his ankles, or, what used to be chains. It seemed like at some point the links broke away, granting him freedom of access but Edoric couldn't remember why he had chains on him to begin with. Then soemthind drew his hand to his neck. He swallowed hard as his shaky hand traced a long, wicked, gnarly scar on his neck with a horrified finger. W-w-what the h-hell ha-happened? Wha did I dew- ... Wh-wha? Th-th-this i-is...? Edoric looked up. His bleached skin went white once more as the image of... of... a thing be burned into his eyes. It was like a giant, cancerous intestine. Its buldging mass barely contained by the chains, hooks and pipes that pierced it and held it alof. Glowing tumors on its underside seemed to... breath as if they were alive, a faint howling of some wind through the flayed flesh sounded like it was howling in pain at the many cuts, gashes and laceration all over it. Some of which had spilled... something on to Edoric. He shivered with fear and disgust as it slide down his back, it was like blood... but ch-chuunkier... and g-g-gl-loopier... and s-s-s-s-slimierrrr... and... mon-mo-mo-m-monstrous... CRACK Edoric finally broke as his breathing of the dead air filled his undead lungs as his panicked hyperventaliation forced its way past his gag reflex. Grabbing his head and curling up, rocking back and forth, Edoric screamed.AAAaaAAHHHAhhhHHhhhAAaaaHhHhhaAaaAAAAAA!!!!!!!	\| The Merchant \| Edoric Sikth Mid to Late Twenties Making a living off of trade and caravaning, Edoric has quite a sturdy, enduring build despite his otherwise ordinary looking frame. Nearing six-feet, he often has an air of assurance and professionalism about him, not doubt a facade he's had to wear for his line of work that has stuck. However, he doesn't exactly have an imposing figure, one that can stand out no doubt, but not one that could exactly strong arm someone. With an almost noble-like stance to his posture, his emerald eyes sit like jewels in a weathered face along with a tuff of silvery hair, Edoric sometimes radiates confidence, if not cockiness. Since his rebirth, he's found the additions of of broken chains around his wrists and ankles as well as quite the nasty scar around his neck. Edoric is almost child-like in a way, always curious and always yearning for a next adventure to weave into one of his many tales he loves to tells. Perhaps it was this wanderlust that got him killed in the first place. He likes to pretend to be as brave an courageous as the noble knights of fairytales are, but is still scared of such things as the dark and heights. Some might dare say he tends to be hypocritical. One should not confuse his youth-like nature for immaturity or stupidity however; Edoric's business aptitude as a merchant is a thing of itself, spilling over and turning him to be greedy and hoarding at times. At such times he can exist some pretty extreme pragmatism that focuses on his survival and fortunes. That said, he does have a charitable side to him and is willing to share, sometimes even for free. Merchant of Sikth - Like many of his home kingdom, Edoric's ability to work with numbers and coin is only matched by his greed. Likewise, he is no stranger to shadier dealings or underhand tactics, as they say in Sikth after all, "the coin must be earned through any means". Explorer's Endurance - Through many a travels through many a lands and environments, Edoric's stamina and endurance is easily able to match that of professional soldiers and knights even though he has little professional training in such areas. It also keep him quick on his feet for when jumping across unstable stones and logs atop a cliff waterfall are the only way forward. Blunted Broadsword - A once beautiful and sharp sword of brass and black leather with a blade that shone like sliver, now is chipped and dull and in desperate need of a touch up. As such, Edoric's only weapon cannot even be used as the sword it was made to be but instead acts more like a two handed club thanks to its hard sheath. Merchant Knapsack - Every good merchant knows that even if you have a pack animal or ship, you should always have a personal bag. Unfortuantely, it seems that whatever Edoric had been carrying has long since been lost, looted or misplaced leaving him with little more than dust and rubbish. Sikth Merchant Seal - A golden seal with delicate silver and gem given to those associated with one of Sikth's many trade companies or guilds and has seen great success. Edoric's appears to once been a sign of his aptitude but like so much of his belongings in their current state, is faded and worn, its regal nature long gone as only flakes of gold remain, revealing its true nature of stone. Mythic Movement - Perhaps a blessing of the Goddess of Aerya, Edoric's gift is one based in the art of movement. His body sometimes exhibits the rare and strange trait of ignoring the laws of physics or even his own body as he can run on walls, leap great distances, zip through halls and clamber up walls faster than even rangers with their tools. Of course his is not without its limited duration, however, Edoric seems to be able to sometimes draw upon a weaker version of this power effectively letting him "quick step".
519	11	4	2,762	160	Laughter….it was laughter that she last heard. It started as a low cackling and escalated to an all-out bellow. The feeling of her body becoming numb as a solid blade made it’s way through her, rending flesh and breaking bone, struggling to be removed. Laughter, that loud…maniacal laughter was always present as her vision began to blacken. Yet…before all life would leave her as she knew, that laughter…changed? It sounded more erratic…twisting into…into…sobs? Finally it did not matter. The darkness had taken her and the world around was swallowed by the darkness clouding her vision…and then… She heard a scream. This scream jolted her senses awake. A gasp escaped her, only to be replaced by a coughing fit as the old, stale fluid evacuated her nearly-shriveled lungs. She struggled to get up, her vision blurry and a ringing sound in her ears. In the end she only managed to get on all fours, leaning on her elbows as she continued to cough, the rotten red fluid escaping through her mouth and nostrils as she gasped for air. It took a bit for her vision to clear, ever-so-slightly, just enough to paint a picture of her environment. A horrific place… ‘By all the Gods!’ Another gasp escaped her along with those thoughts. She was on her knees, glancing around at this place she found herself into. A dark place with barely enough light to see, the ground was humid with a mucky fluid of a sickly, red coloration. It’s consistency made it clear it was…something other than water. Around her were nothing but old, lifeless bodies, all shriveled up and in mid decomposition. This was a place where no life was welcome as not even maggots seem to thrive on the bountiful piles of corpses around. Instinctively she gazed upwards, her colorless eyes widening in horror as she saw…she couldn’t even describe what it was. Some sort of gigantic, fleshy monstrosity, pulsating and dangling from the celling by a number of great chains and hooks that perforated its bulbous surface. The mucky fluid seem to originate from this…thing, cascading from a few places where it appeared that the hooks caused too large of a gash. The mere vision of such an abomination was enough to break one’s mind. She could feel her body shaking as she just stood there, her gaze affixed to that creature, unable to move. A whimper nearly escaped her as another coughing fit snapped her back to her senses. Still alarmed at the sight of that.. thing, she struggled to rise to her feet. The sloshy surface did not make it easy and the still semi-numb feeling in her muscles only made it that much harder. She struggled to hold her balance, damn it all, it felt like her muscles atrophied due to a prolonged time of inactivity. The familiar weight of her armor also weighed on her, yet this burden came with an odd sensation of comfort, the comfort of something she was well accustomed to. Her left side felt much heavier, upon looking she could see that it was not only due to the gross lack of armoring on her right arm but it was also because her left hand was tightly grasping at a battered shield. The shadow of a smile creeped on her face, it felt oddly comforting to know that she held on to her all-familiar shield even…even in.. It hit her. Her mind raced, struggling to recall the last moments before she blacked out. A shiver ran down her spine and her knees began to tremble as she came to the same conclusion. She, Lyanna, had died. Worse even, she found herself in such a…horrific place. Was this the after-life? Was this the place where wicked souls came and awaited punishment? No..No.. this could not be….Could it? A scream snapped her once again to reality. It was the same scream that she heard when she awoke. She quickly turned her head, trying to distinguish the source, barley making out what looked like someone curled up with their hands on their head. Numb or not, her instincts kicked in, forcing her to run with heavy feet, her armor, or what was left of it, clanking as she strode through the muddy fluid and past a number of corpses lying around. She reached the person, making out their features more clearly. It was a man, with messy, yet bright, hair. His attire may have once been of fine make but just like their owner they were now worse for wear, a series of shackles around his wrists and ankles completed his visage. With a firm hand, Lyanna shook the man, forcing him to turn and face her. “Calm yourself, sir. This is no time to lose your head, get up!” The tone and the words came out by sheer instinct. She spoke like some sort of soldier… Ah, yes… That’s right. She was a soldier…of some kind. From…from Badarium…right? Yes…yes. Her name was Lyanna and she was a soldier…a guard! A guard of Badarium. Memories slowly came back to her, piece by piece. Yet there was still much left in the fog. For now, she was content with knowing who she was and…how she apparently died. Her gazed turned to her vicinity. She was not alone. A few corpses from a nearby pile had toppled down in the messy puddle of red fluid. There was someone else there…yet who…or what? Fearing the worst, Lyanna reached for her sword, a sensation of relief washed over her as she felt the handle on her side…yet it was followed by disappointment when she discovered that the sword was utterly broken in half. Ugh…no matter, it was better than fighting empty handed and she still had her shield. Stepping between the unknown presence nearby and the frightened man behind her, Lyanna adopted a defensive battle stance and bellowed. “Whoever is there, show thyself! Now!”	\|The Shield Maiden\| Lyanna Badarium Late twenties to early thirties People of Badarium were often graced with elegant beauty, delicate features and voluptuous bodies. Lyanna was, for the most part, no exception from the rule. With her soft, pale skin, wavy black hair, comely features and auburn eyes, she certainly caught the gazes of many a man and even a few women, though most were unintentional. However, what one would see at first sight was not all true, for underneath her armor, this 1.71m tall woman would boast a muscular body which contrasted with her feminine curves, the result of hard physical training which also granted her a physical strength comparable with the toughest of men, an aspect which took many by utter surprise due to her appearance. Her rebirth did deteriorate her visage, her skin adopting a shade of grey, her eyes loosing most of their shine and color, and there was also a long, thin gash now ever present on her torso, reaching from her bellybutton and straight upwards stopping just below her collarbone. Courageous, level-headed and loyal to a fault, Lyanna was often commended for these traits by her liege Lord, who more often than not also praised her beauty but she always paid no mind to that, dedicated to serving him loyally and competently as the captain of his personal guard and nothing more. That is to say, she was not always sour and dour, she felt most comfortable when surrounded by her fellow soldiers, the sense of camaraderie that was created through her leadership made them seem like family, the only real family she ever had. Of course, rumors travel far and wide in the Kindom of Badarium and there was much discussion of the female guard captain who became ‘awfully close’ with her subordinates, yet just like the flirtatious intentions of her liege Lord, Lyanna paid no mind to such talk. If the common folk felt secure enough from other dangers that they were able to speak of such things, among others, then it meant she was doing her job properly and that was good enough for her. Shield Master – Lyanna is a skilled warrior, virtually unmatched with a shield in hand. This style of combat is one that requires a strong arm and iron determination, both of which Lyanna possesses in spades, capable of anticipating and blocking attacks only to retaliate with devastating force. Bravery – Fighting in the front line is no task for those faint of heart, Lyanna always keeping an uncanny cool temper even in the face of the most horrific of adversaries. Once she has set a defensive line, she will not yield until her last breath has been given, proving time and again that she will not be easily distraught. Hearty Constitution – Unlike the vast majority of women from her land, Lyanna would spend most of her time undertaking grueling physical training, pushing her body to the limit and overcoming it. With a hard back, iron stomach and a strong arm, Lyanna could not be easily toppled and could take down men twice her size. Damaged Plate Armor – This type of armor is the very symbol of a strong and noble knight, offering great protection while sacrificing mobility. This one, however, has seen better days as the breastplate is battered and broken, missing its upper left side as well as its gorget and right spaulder. Along with that, the entire plating of the right arm seems to be missing, the only thing offering protection being the scalemail shirt underneath which reaches just before the elbow, leaving the left forearm completely exposed. The left side of the armor, the chausses and steel-toed boots are faring no better, being battered and worn but at least they are still there. Worn Heather Shield – A metal shield which offers great protection as well as being light enough to maneuver by a skilled wielder. Time has not been kind to it, being bent, battered and worn to such an extent that even the once proud crest on its surface has become faded and unrecognizable. Broken Arming Sword– The standard issue one-handed sword wielded by any warrior who boasts competence in combat. That is what it once was before whatever unfortunate events rendered it in this state, the blade being dull and broken in half, making it quite worthless. However, ‘near worthless’ trumps ‘empty handed’. Unnatural Might – Since her rebirth, Lyanna has discovered that she possesses an odd, unknown power which triggers, apparently, randomly. This power would manifests itself under the form of many wisps of crimson smoke emanating from her body along with the color(or current lack of color) of her eyes turning to a deep, vibrant red. The effects resulting in a great adrenaline surge coursing through her, removing any sign and sensation of fatigue from her body and increasing her physical strength tenfold, allowing her to shrug off all but the most devastating of blows while delivering unfathomable punishment. This effect does not last long, however, nor can Lyanna ‘trigger’ it on her own. Could this strange power be a gift from the Gods… or something else entirely?
520	11	5	1,524	552	Frei Frei could not fathom a sorrow so profound as what plagued the face of the man before her. He was young, frail, and even though she was kneeling he only just managed to level his ghostly eyes with hers. Through all of her questions she found herself most wanting to ask him what was wrong, if he needed help, but found her throat wound tight and unwilling to comply. He brushed long, oaken hair from his face, revealing tear-streaked cheeks that brought to her attention the fact that hers were wet as well. Before she could ask why they were crying, he spoke, his voice a match to his weak, mournful being. He said: ”I loved you, Frei,” and though she couldn’t understand why, she felt her heart shatter. But a roar caught her attention, not of a beast, but of men. She looked aside in the uncertain void, and saw hundreds and hundreds of people, all faceless yet their hateful eyes tore holes in her. Their cheers and screams were horrid amalgamations of man and woman, child and elder, and she felt a deep fear take root within her. She wanted to run, but was given no time. Her hands were bound tight by the wrists, the constriction at her throat became a tether that would not let her move from the stage she could not see but nonetheless knew she stood upon. Then at last, she was falling. She awoke to screaming, not her own, not the voice of the young man nor any of the crowd, but new and distinct. Vaguely she could hear voices elsewhere around, but they were drowned out by the yelling, which itself took a step behind her own bewilderment. First she took a breath, funneled in steady if slight streams of air that alone were enough to make her aware of her surroundings. She was on her back at an incline, upon what she wasn’t sure, but staring up she was far more concerned with what was hanging above. The thing was a terror, alive or inanimate, with its pulsing, shuddering form hung from hooks by stretched flesh. The instinct to run once again took hold, but where in the void she was barred by unseen tethers, in the waking world her restraints were much more visceral. Merely trying to sit up sent aches shooting up her spine, as though it were crooked and struggling to realign itself. Her whole body felt heavy, which, upon glancing at the armor encasing her from the neck down, made sense, though it didn’t lend any comfort to the soreness in her joints. There was a brief, albeit sharp pain centered on her chest, but it was washed over by the sudden panic of suffocation. It quickly became apparent that the air she’d taken in moments ago had done well in bringing her back to her senses, but was not nearly enough to sustain her freshly heaving diaphragm. Without the energy yet to sit up, she instead managed to roll herself onto her stomach, coming to face with the cold, clammy tangle of limbs that had been her rest. It was a shock, but one she pushed into the back of her mind with the others. Her boots found purchase in the pile of bodies, enough to brace herself so that her hands were free to work at her neck. At first she thought the armor might be dented in on her, but her fingers looped not around metal, but rope. Desperately she yanked at it front and side to no avail, hand sliding further and further back until they found the series of knots holding it together. It was then her body got away from her, distancing itself from her hysterical mind and acting off of muscle memory. With practiced expertise she could only hope to remember long enough to question, she slackened the hold on her throat, just enough to allow for a full, proper gasp. For a moment she let herself relax, gulping down air mindless to its fetid stench and sour taste. She kept her eyes shut tight, both from exhaustion and the desire not to see the morbid mound beneath her as her brief respite came to a close. She knew, whatever was happening, that she couldn’t stay put, and more importantly that someone else in here with her needed help. Shakily she got to her feet, and felt an added weight on her side. She saw a sword in its sheath, dangling from her belt by a single, fraying leather strap. It didn’t take much effort to tear it off, and when she did she found with some relief that the weapon wasn’t very heavy at all. In fact with its weight she doubted much above the guard was present, but an inch or two of steel was better than no steel at all. That said, she didn’t draw it, and instead opted to wind the leather strap round the guard and sheath to keep it shut. If there was someone else down here with her, she didn’t want to approach them bearing a blade. The voices nearby picked up again, and over the crest of bodies she thought she could just make out the top of someone’s head. Surely they might catch a glimpse of her as well, looking around at the corpses Frei saw she was far and away taller than most of them. Knowing she wasn’t alone was a relief to say the least, but before her own comfort she had to ensure theirs, or at least their safety. ”Hel–” a violent crack and cough crippled her voice and sent her to a knee. She retched up a vile liquid, but spared it only a moment’s concern before pushing herself back up. There was no more time to be slow, hers was not the only life in danger. ”Hello?” she called, pleased to hear her voice was strong and unhindered. ”I’m coming over! Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you, I promise!” With that she started an uneven but certain journey over the dead, making her way towards what she was beginning to know as others, plural. Good, there was safety in numbers, solidarity that could get them all out of here alive. Or at least, as close to alive as could be. It was not a matter she wished to address for the time being.	\| The Merciful \| Frei Draethir 25 Frei’s armor –or at least what remains of it– is dark as pitch where it isn’t scuffed, and lined by a brilliantly unmarred red. It conceals a warrior’s frame, lean muscle combating her feminine figure and habit of hunching. Even so she’s well above average height, and stands with a naturally imposing posture. Though her face holds an inherent softness, and though she is not often one to frown, it also carries a great potential for fury. Her eyes are a burning hue, and can be challenging to meet even on amicable terms. Since her rebirth, a noose with a frayed-off end remains wrapped ‘round her neck, tucked beneath her gorget. Contrary to both her appearance and land of origin, Frei is a gentle and compassionate woman who abhors violence against other people. In fact, all she seems to want to do is protect them, either from themselves through a well-meaning if not overtly idealistic diplomacy, or from the creatures infesting the world through vindicated action. She enjoys talking to people, hearing their stories, listening to their opinions and woes in the hopes that she can offer help, or at least the comfort of company in their terrible world. However, with reasoning unbeknownst to her, she suffers from infrequent yet potent flashes of anger. These thoughts feel as alien to Frei as they do revolting. Despite what she may like to believe, Frei’s true talents lie in the art of combat. She’s swift even in her armor, and handles the sword with practiced expertise. She does not, however, have experience fighting the creatures brought on by the Inalienable Dreamless, a skillset she would much rather possess over the ability to fight people. –Broken Greatsword– With a tight, black-leather hilt, ornate –if still nicked– guard, and ruby pommel, it’s easy to believe that this sword might have once been a thing of beauty and status. However the wide blade, an equally umbral color, is missing its top third, snapped off at an edge. An engraving near the base reads “Mercy”. –Draethir Armor– While missing a spaulder, a gauntlet, and its helmet, the sleek-fitted armor does its job well. Its Black bulk and red lining were once iconic to the Dominion of Draethir, a fact now either lost to Frei, or willfully ignored. –Ember Veins– Frei’s blood is passively warmer than natural, to no noticeable defect. When spilt however, the temperature spikes higher, an effect to which she is immune. At this point, barring the fickle nature of such Gifts, the blood can ignite to a multitude of uses, such as the imbuing of weapons with a long-lasting fire effect.
521	11	6	923	5,303	Who am I? Where am I? The pink-haired woman's brows narrowed as she kept the sword in a defensive position, unflinching in her resolve due to the fact her encounter in this pit could turn out badly. She knew not of this man or the others that were awakening nor their intentions, so there was no way to know who was friend or foe. She took a light breath as the man approached her as others continued to shuffle out of the pile of corpses across the stone floor; the man looked in her direction with a concerning look before calling out to her with questions that were issued like demands; a sentiment that she felt was familiar to her for reasons she could barely recall. As for his questions, from her perspective they seemed like good enough ones to be asked of— the knowledge of their newfound location and the identities of the other living beings. However, at the moment she didn’t quite have any answers for him as she was trying to rein in what she could recollect; a fact that was difficult considering that her senses kept getting barraged by what she was sensing all around her. The woman thought hard as she kept fishing through her thoughts. The last thing she remembered was the crunching pain of a maul hitting her chest… and the slamming of an enemy’s foot upon her neck as she suffocated on her own blood. She had… died hadn’t she? An anxious dread filled her mind as she recollected it and where she ended up did look like some sort of pit of corpses. If her memories were true then it was likely she was possibly tossed into this pit? But why had she awoken? Why had she been revived? The thought of revivals were nothing new as far as she could remember considering the existence of powerful divine artifacts; but the place that she found herself was not a temple of healing, but an accursed necromancer's laboratory. It was a presumption, of course; but what else could it be? That doesn’t matter right now. She took another light breath. As she dug deeper into her thoughts for more information. Her name was Syrenia, an old adjustment of the word “siren”. The name was… from Iliandur. No, she was from Iliandur. The land of clerical knights, of which she was a member, and apostles of a trinity of gods— a mother and two sons. She remembered the mother god was named Lyriel, a fact that she jumped to upon reawakening; so that must’ve been her patron goddess. The other two were important though. Aegis, the Protector. Helstar, the Judge. Whilst it was good that she remembered this much, this man wasn’t asking for theological information. She looked back at him and cleared her voice of any nerves. She could tell him what she knew in accordance to his questions; she hoped it would be satisfactory. But before she could reply a loud shout from another individual interrupted them. Syrenia looked to the origin of the voice before looking back at the man in a quick moment. “I have no idea where we are… I don’t remember anything like this. I have never even heard of anything like where we stand.. As for my name? My name is Syrenia— of Iliandur.” There was a pause. “Who are you?”	\| The Apostle \| Syrenia Iliandur Early Twenties Syrenia is a descendant of Iliandur, although which dynastic line is particularly unknown due to the effects of her rebirth. With flowing pink-colored hair and blue eyes, Syrenia has a naturally soft appearance; though she is not as petite as she appears. Standing at 5’3”, Syrenia is shorter than most considering the average height of a woman of Iliandur was nearly three or so inches greater. In her time as a clerical knight of Iliandur the training Syrenia was forced to endure has given her a physical conditioning that has shaped her physique to be durable yet flexible, though her training like many others did not block her from an early demise. Whilst Syrenia was a girl of faith, she was also a daughter of a scientist thus her viewpoint isn’t as nearly as naively optimistic as some of her peers were. This background taught her to be practical in her life and in her views, though that practicality did not stop her from being killed in the vicious way that she was. However, practicality did not impede her from the religious ideology that was ingrained within her nor did it remove her of her compassion or sincerity for others. Whilst she might be quick to point out that something is impractical or unwise, it will not always stop her from acting; though the new world she will experience might test those very views. Skilled Archer — The clerical knights of Iliandur were capable archers as well as swordsmen and priests. During her lifetime preceding the Inalienable Dreamless Syrenia was trained as an inquisitor; the formal title given to apostles of the Grand Cleric and guardians of peace. Apostle – As part of her training as a clerical knight Syrenia was taught how to channel the energies from holy relics to use minor holy magic with such as small blessings, wards, and other spells. Without an artifact Syrenia lacks something to draw from and even with her gift of rebirth she lacks the knowledge to draw from her own soul. Daughter of an Alchemist – Whilst she remembers little with the rebirth process, Syrenia was the daughter of an alchemist and was taught since childhood about the process of potion-making and general herbalism for the benefit of others. This also grants her a minor knowledge about toxicology if and when it comes back to her. Inquistor's Quiver — Stripped of her bow, Syrenia retains her quiver though it has been stripped of all of her arrows. Clerical Knight's Armor — Syrenia’s armor as a clerical knight was crafted for a mobile fighter that could allow quick movement with limited but sufficient protection. However much of it has been lost to time and by the thieving hands of fallen humanity. What remains of her armor has been restored from the decay of time; but it is apparent that she is missing a shoulder spaulder. The cloth underneath the armor remains though its color has faded. Satchel – With her backpack stolen, it is a surprising relief that Syrenia has anything to hold scattered potions, coin, and objects at all. A small holding capacity, but it is better than nothing. Holy Conduit — Perhaps as a nod to her origins as a clerical knight, Syrenia has been gifted with the holy energies of Helstar & Aegis that drown her soul in potent holy magic. The abilities of this gift are varied but unknown to her; allowing herself to serve as a divine conduit the purity of her soul can heal, cure, or revive and perhaps purify or smite.
522	11	7	2,786	800	XEGA This place was damned, to be sure. A scream echoed throughout the cavern. Others were shifting among the corpses. Had they all returned to life as well? No...for the moment, it would seem that only a few of the dead that filled this place were rising again. Still, to be reborn with all one's faculties intact, no trace of the wounds that had preceded his death...what powerful necromancy, if indeed that was what it was that had called them back from beyond the grave. Xega glanced around the chamber before the woman answered him. She cleared her throat before she spoke, and spoke calmly. So she did not intend violence with that blade, it seemed. "I have no idea where we are...I don’t remember anything like this. I have never even heard of anything like where we stand. As for my name? My name is Syrenia… of Iliandur. Who are you?" "I am..." He paused. Xega? Was that his name? Why was he unsure? Where was he from? Iliandur? No. He didn't know where that country was, or if indeed it was a country, but he knew he did not come from there, somehow. "I am Xega. I am...or perhaps was...a practitioner of the Arcane. I am from..." Finally the word came to him. "Xir. I am Xega of Xir." Saying it with more emphasis gave him confidence. Yes. He was from a place called Xir, a nation of magi. Iliandur, that was another country, famous for its clerical knights. Perhaps this woman was one of them, judging from her state of dress and the familiarity with which she held the weapon. “Whoever is there, show thyself! Now!” Another voice rang out, another woman's tone. Xega turned towards the noise with a look of some consternation. Though there were holes in his memory, his personality was very much intact, and he would not be ordered about. ”Hello?" Another new voice, this one less sure of itself. And another woman. Xega quirked an eyebrow. "I’m coming over! Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you, I promise!” "'Twould seem we've quite the crowd." he said to Syrenia of Iliandur. The woman who'd spoken last was headed in their direction, and now that Xega had a look at her, she too seemed some sort of warrioress. Her armor had been battered and corroded by time, pieces of it stolen, but Xega felt the coloration strike a chord with him somehow. They were probably the colors of her homeland. This twinge of memory told Xega what he had already begun to suspect. He might be in a new place, but his old memories were very much intact. They were simply...hidden...from him for the moment. He just needed to find something to trigger them, to restore them. Speaking with these people, learning what they knew, would likely help with that. As would finding his staff and foci. He at least knew, deep in his core, what he was; a most prestigious magi. Already he could feel the Arcane Stream again, a sensation that felt like drawing breath for the first time after nearly drowning. He supposed the first breath he had taken upon his revival might have felt like that too, had it not been for the agonizing pain that came with it. "Miss Syrenia, if you would greet our newcomer," he nodded towards the other woman in armor, "I'll address...the others." Turning on his heel--his actual heel, as it seemed some grave robber had stolen his boots and now he was barefoot, which made him grimace--he walked around the pile of corpses, giving it a wide berth and covering his nose with his sleeve against the stench. He did his best not to look at it; he did not consider himself weak of mind nor stomach, but such carnage was too much for any sane individual to witness. Soon he came into view of two more freshly risen: a fierce eyed woman, though her stature was not at all unpleasing to his own eye, and a man whose features were almost as delicate as Xega's own. The man was the source of the screaming, as he writhed on the ground. Was he still in the throes of revival, or had he simply been driven to hysterics by the horrors around him? "I, Xega of Xir, deign to show myself." he said to the woman, placing one hand on his own chest. Then he gestured to her, his eyes narrowing. "Now name thy own self."	\| The Magus \| Xega Xir Early Twenties Xega, as a studious mage of one of the most prestigious academies of Xir--though he can't remember which one--has the frail form one would associate with such. At a height of five feet and eleven inches, he stands just short of the standard many might consider "manly," but then most mages weren't concerned with such matters of primitive brawn. He barely weighs one hundred and forty pounds, and has woman-like features especially about his face and slender, nimble fingers. Currently, immediately after his Rebirth, his eyes bear deep lines beneath them and his cheeks are sunken; his illustrious, deep purple hair is now messy and looks as if it hadn't been washed in days. Xega is self-centered and arrogant, and considers himself an intellectual only concerned with his pursuits of arcane mystery. He finds such things as physical strength and athleticism to be beneath him, and considers those who would employ such against him to be barbarians--and yet, like any man of the mind, he finds himself infuriatingly helpless against such overpowering brawn. Xega cannot stand not knowing the answer to a question, and will maddeningly seek a solution with relentless zeal. His excitement can be contagious, as despite his normal introversion, if he can connect with someone about his studies he becomes much more personable. Skilled Magician - Xega was a graduate student of his academy, pursuing research and conducting experiments alongside some of the finest minds of Xir. As such, his command of the arcane arts is considerably mighty. Fulgurmancy - Xega's preferred forms of battlecraft, the magics of conflict, involves the use of controlled lightning. With it he can produce bolts or streams of white hot lightning to electrocute and scorch his enemies. The short lived nature of lightning, however, makes it hard to use defensively or to maintain a spell for long periods. Sharp Mind - As one who has researched and studied for such a large portion of his life, and being naturally intelligent and inquisitive, Xega is equipped to handle many a mystery or mental puzzle with relative ease. Wizard's Staff - A hardwood staff of about six feet, its last third of length seemingly naturally grown into the shape of a plaited braid. It curls slightly, forming a hook onto which to attach Xega's magus foci. The staff itself merely provides a means of gesture and focus, as well as a last line of defense. Runes are etched into its surface, their protective wards being the only thing that kept the staff from being stolen from his corpse. Crystal Lantern - This shining brass lantern holds within it a crystal of condense arcane power, which serves as a collector of ambient magical energies and a focus for Xega to use to reduce the strain on himself when channeling the Arcane Stream. Its magics are bonded specifically to Xega himself, making it useless to anyone else, and some of the same runes that protected the staff protected it as well. Book Satchel - Once, this satchel held Xega's tomes of sorcery. They have been looted from his former corpse, however, all but one--a basic textbook that was already far outdated in Xega's own time, and is now so dry rotted and yellowed as to be practically illegible. Runesight - A gift that can only be from Arcanus himself, Xega will find that at certain times magical runes appear within the depths of his black pupils, which dilate to a much larger size as if engulfing a void. These runes confer upon him powerful magic sight, granting him visions of "true nature," which sometimes include not just what something truly "is," but perhaps, if the target of his sight is now broken, a vision of what it "once was." It cannot be activated by Xega's own will as of yet, though he struggles to understand it and use it as he would all his other magics. A fitting power, for one whose life is driven by endless thirst for knowledge.
523	11	8	792	4,390	There was music. There was always music, oh how it soothed, how it pleased the ear. Someone was fond of music, of the lilting notes and the divine voices of one trained in the art of performance - so high and strong that the glass on the tables vibrated just enough to be impressive rather than a mess in the making. Even then there was music, though the melody seemed lost, forgotten, discarded; but not just music, there was something else just as pleasant. Heat. Warmth. She was smiling, was she not? Might it have been the one time she truly meant it? Blue lights beaming their rays onto her, bringing a comfort that blended with the soft tones of that sweet music; a serenade played just for her ears. Was this paradise? Heaven? Had she been so blessed, with such saccharine sounds and a warm belly? But always the music stops, the singing voice replaced by hushed whispers and a shrill scream that wasn't familiar. The warmth returned but not in her belly, but her mouth as those blue lights burn brighter before the only sound is dulled to nothing. That warmth brought no comfort, but there was something about it...something that was just so... familiar Why was it damp? As before there was a scream, but this one was not nearly as shrill as the one that ended the music, but it was far more clear, far closer than any sound she had heard before. First, however, there was movement. It was as if she had taken a trip, but that was impossible, no properly trained lady would ever fall over her own feet. The screaming is what brought her back, opened a dim pair of blue eyes to a crimson sight. That explained the dampness in one quick glance. Somehow she had been taken away from the comfort of music and the warmth of...whatever that was and brought to the discomfort of corpses and horrific scenery and the watery pools that lay at the base of the mountains of flesh, bone, and junk. A shaking hand turns before her eyes and is met not with the familiar ivory but with a stain marring what was once such flawless skin. That same hand moved closer, touching sunken cheeks and leaving behind five simple streaks of sickly fluids. The realization settled in after a moment's consideration, unaided by the loud screaming that was suddenly much clearer and much more understandable. A slow craning of her neck had her eyes settle on another figure, the shape of a male - but who could really tell amidst corpses - asking simple questions. The bodies near his feet slid down towards the same pool she found herself in, no doubt she was amongst that number not too long ago. So it is the fault of this curious, confused boy that she was now covered in a fine coat of what she could only hope was just blood. Before a confrontation, the blonde woman - though with hair now stringy and stained with red - quickly grabbed at her other hand, hoping that it was still there and, if so, that it had remained unpilfered. A soft sigh of relief from her lips as thin fingers closed around a once sparkling, beautiful accessory. Things were looking up already; losing that would have simply made the woman want nothing more than to lay back into the pool, face first this time, and bring about her own undoing. The presence of a ring on her finger was soothing, calming, though it did little to alleviate the lingering worry and confusion. Questions for a later time, surely. More important was determining motor functions. Her hands were fine and slowly she rose to her feet, both of them having been submerged. Had she been wearing boots - no...wait...she was in finely cobbled heels, wasn't she? - or indeed any footwear at all she might have been saved the feeling of this bloody soup between her toes...but alas she was not so fortunate. She stood, her toes wiggling and making small ripples, and took a step. She didn't tumble. She didn't trip. She could move, slowly for now, but wading was better than nothing at all. With those concerns out of the way, her ears began picking up other sounds. Words. Motions. Questions. Answers. "H...Hello? Who...Who are you...people?" she asked, but only in her head. She opened her mouth to speak, to question, but no words left those lips. All that came out, all that she heard, were sounds not unlike a growl from a beast that vaguely sounded like questions from the inflection of her guttural noises. "Can anybody hear me?" Her watery growl pegged again, asking no intelligible question and expecting nothing in return. Her body being covered in blood seemed now to be the least of her concerns.	\| The Betrothed \| Carisa Xelfiria Barely In The Twenties Carisa certainly did her home proud just from a passing glance. Though average in height, she is extraordinary elsewhere, namely in her alabaster skin with nary a blemish and a fair maiden's dimple when she smiles. There's a symmetry to her angular face with her eyebrows a bit on the bushy side and a small nose with a downward point to the tip. Her build is rather lithe with muscles not readily visible but a body that shows both the signs of conditioning and laze. No one would confuse her for one that lived in a hedonistic opulence, but they would be correct in assuming that some of her time was spent not on improving her body but on enjoying the pleasures of being waited upon. Carisa's hair was once a fine thing, straight and lustrous with a hue that rivaled the golden fields of wheat, though it maintains its length, the color is more ghostly than golden, with long strands that often cover her right eye, which shines with a sapphire blue gaze matched in her left. Surely Carisa was at once considered a conventional beauty by any standards, which of course made her a perfect candidate in the great game that was political intrigue and machinations. Is it thus any wonder why she did not keep up with more physical pursuits? To those that mattered, Carisa was the ideal sort for those in higher positions. She spoke with regal inflections to her voice, never slouched her shoulders, and was in many regards a proper lady for those who sought not a loving wife but an arm piece to boast about. Carisa knew the score. She knew how to sell herself, to make herself stand out amongst the others all vying for the position of power and a loveless marriage. But that was never truly Carisa. Carisa, when not under the scrutiny and maintaining the best of appearances, had something of a puckish way about her, from her often colorful language to her rather unladylike habits, least of all knowing the appeal of a solid belch after a mug of the finest swill. That's not to say that Carisa was all laughs and bodily functions, though she was that in spades, she was something of a story teller, regaling peers and suitors alike (albeit with wildly different tales for each) with highly embellished narratives that were sprinkled with just enough vagueness to sound legitimate. But the problem with a silver tongue is that eventually someone is going to want to cut it from the mouth. Carisa has lost more than her memories, and one would only need to look into her mouth for proof of that. Though silent, her roguish ways linger, wrapped up nicely in someone who still appears to come from a regal background. Silence - Not just in the terms of the voice. Carisa's footsteps are light enough to make her both swift on her feet and skilled at sneaking about. There was always a second purpose to her grooming for marriage, and being silent was needed when the matter came to discretion. Agile Combatant - While not gifted with more heavier forms of engagement nor the ranged sort, Carisa knows her way around lighter, dagger-like weaponry. Hers may not come with the powerful cleaves or hidden snipes, but a blade slipped between the spine or ribs hurts all the same. All those lessons in dance were not just about learning how to waltz after all, and when she is in motion it is rather graceful like any good dance. Housekeeping - Perhaps no longer useful in these strange, dangerous times, but there was once a point where Carisa knew how best to prepare a slab of meat or the way to cut ingredients thin enough to retain flavor. What need would people used to being waited on have for someone who couldn't prepare a simple meal? Twinblades, Minus One - Thin blades wielded in both hands; her left hand is her dominant one and so gets the sturdier weapon. The right blade has broken and the left blade is no longer as sharp as it once was, but the finely crafted blades bring a certain comfort. Silver Ring - It is fortunate that some mischievous sort never got the bright idea to steal the ring by removing the finger from Carisa's hand. It's no longer as shiny as it was and the promise it once held can never be upheld, but Carisa is still glad to have it. Leather Armor - Befitting one who stole not gold and jewels but something just as precious. The leather has been worn by time, frayed, its color dulled and dirtied, and the boots missing, it's not something that will protect from blades or even sharp teeth, but for someone who prefers avoiding to standing ground perhaps it is sufficient. Shadowstep - A life of nimble, graceful steps has worked out rather nicely. Carisa isn't exactly sure what happens, but when staring down someone with clear ill intent, their blade or strike might sometimes hit nothing but air despite them seeing a rather clear image of Carisa herself. But by the time the deception is realized, a sharp pain is in their back. A step behind them so quick that it creates the illusion of Carisa still being right in front of them.
524	11	9	465	6,811	Edoric jolted up and yelped a high pitched, almost animal-like sound as he scurried away, hands pattering on the slick stone floor before his sense slowly drifted back into him. He looked up, and through his heavy breathing, he saw someone else. Another human (?), standing before him, offering an outstretched hand. Flashbacks of the rotting, grasping arm he kicked in earlier, the unnerving cracking and twisting sung scars into his head as they overlapped with his current visions of the armored maiden in front of him. There was something amazing about this lady who kept her head level in such a situation. Edoric did the best to emulate her mental state as he gripped his face, his mind running through disconnected memories. He saw himself huddling next to a wall on a rainy night, swapping coins with a faceless figures and witnessing the most beautiful horizons. "Get up," a voice faintly beckoned for him in the distance, a much more masculine voice than that of the armored maiden's, it was pompous and joyous, but yet still warm and caring, curious almost, "Why are you on the ground? There's a world to be explored, opportunities to exploit and adventures to be had! For tis the merchant's code!" "A w-world toe ex-explore..." Edoric mumbled to himself as his hands graced the ground, searching for an stone to which anchor his arms to lift him up, his eyes closed and hidden behind bangs of his silvery hair. "Ch-chances to be tachenn..." the man planted his shaky arms into the ground and firmed them up like pack earth as the maiden-at-arms raised a shield and dared a presence which Edoric could not sense to come out. "Adventures to b-be had..." old, stale, musky air of death rushed in to fill his heavy lungs that sat like stones in his chest, no gagging or vomiting came as it filled his vile blood with unholy spirit. "For tis the creed of which I follow." Edoric took a deep breath and looked up, his gaze turning from that of the bloodied, grimy floor to that which laid a head of him, his mind now clear as he finished his chant. The place was still nightmarish and hellish and disgusting and creepy no doubt, but Edoric felt like it had lost its shock impact. Of course he still wanted to shit his pants when he saw a small brood of incest crawl out of the open jaws of a decaying body, but at least he didn't actually shit himself. With his refreshed and stabler mind, he looked around, finally being able to take a good look at the armored maiden after wiping away drying tears with a dirty, tattered sleeve. She was beautiful, even in her sorry state, surrounded in this wretched chamber of horrors. Silken black hair and doll-like skin with a aura of strength; Edoric would be lying if he said that such a lady didn't catch his eye, even if she wore broken, battered plate, but decided to dwell on more important things for the moment, namely trying to defend himself. He panned his gaze around, nothing worthy of a weapon yet besides bones and bodies. Than again he had heard that femurs were incredibly sturdy bones, stronger than steel by some accounts. He wondered if a bone club-hammer-bashy-bonger would do the trick but started to realize how unsavory the prospect of lugging around what was basically some poor sod's leg as a bludgeoning device was. Thankfully, he had spotted something else, something that glimmered dimly in the decrepted chamber, like a fleeting embers before the darkened shadows. Crawling towards it, Edoric reached for the gentle, dying shine and grasped his hand around it. Aging, molding leather greeted the flesh of his skin as he wrapped his fingers around the handle it feebly tried to protect, there was no doubting that it was some sort of blade of sorts. Metals rasping as it was draw from its thousand year slumber in its sheath, Edoric pulled out a broad sword, the faded steel held but the faintest of memories of a proud warrior with a silver blade at his side. However, it was clear such an age was long gone as the presumed warrior was now amongst the many piles of decaying, decrepit, disgusting fleshy mountains, whose faint groans still tugged at Edoric's ear. It took little skill to see that the sword had only faired marginally better than its user; the cracks and chinks that ran along the once fine blade that now ran dull. The sword was in poor shape to put it at best, Edoric wouldn't be surprised if it shattered soon but yet it held. Some sparks in his brain told him to forgo its use as a sword and instead to use its hard sheath to encase it in a layer of hardness to be used like a club that he thought a femur could provide just a short while ago. Armed with a new, glorified club, Edoric took a stand behind the maiden in armor and took a stance with the blunted broadsword slung over his shoulder and head to be brought down, "Say... you know what you're doing right?"	\| The Merchant \| Edoric Sikth Mid to Late Twenties Making a living off of trade and caravaning, Edoric has quite a sturdy, enduring build despite his otherwise ordinary looking frame. Nearing six-feet, he often has an air of assurance and professionalism about him, not doubt a facade he's had to wear for his line of work that has stuck. However, he doesn't exactly have an imposing figure, one that can stand out no doubt, but not one that could exactly strong arm someone. With an almost noble-like stance to his posture, his emerald eyes sit like jewels in a weathered face along with a tuff of silvery hair, Edoric sometimes radiates confidence, if not cockiness. Since his rebirth, he's found the additions of of broken chains around his wrists and ankles as well as quite the nasty scar around his neck. Edoric is almost child-like in a way, always curious and always yearning for a next adventure to weave into one of his many tales he loves to tells. Perhaps it was this wanderlust that got him killed in the first place. He likes to pretend to be as brave an courageous as the noble knights of fairytales are, but is still scared of such things as the dark and heights. Some might dare say he tends to be hypocritical. One should not confuse his youth-like nature for immaturity or stupidity however; Edoric's business aptitude as a merchant is a thing of itself, spilling over and turning him to be greedy and hoarding at times. At such times he can exist some pretty extreme pragmatism that focuses on his survival and fortunes. That said, he does have a charitable side to him and is willing to share, sometimes even for free. Merchant of Sikth - Like many of his home kingdom, Edoric's ability to work with numbers and coin is only matched by his greed. Likewise, he is no stranger to shadier dealings or underhand tactics, as they say in Sikth after all, "the coin must be earned through any means". Explorer's Endurance - Through many a travels through many a lands and environments, Edoric's stamina and endurance is easily able to match that of professional soldiers and knights even though he has little professional training in such areas. It also keep him quick on his feet for when jumping across unstable stones and logs atop a cliff waterfall are the only way forward. Blunted Broadsword - A once beautiful and sharp sword of brass and black leather with a blade that shone like sliver, now is chipped and dull and in desperate need of a touch up. As such, Edoric's only weapon cannot even be used as the sword it was made to be but instead acts more like a two handed club thanks to its hard sheath. Merchant Knapsack - Every good merchant knows that even if you have a pack animal or ship, you should always have a personal bag. Unfortuantely, it seems that whatever Edoric had been carrying has long since been lost, looted or misplaced leaving him with little more than dust and rubbish. Sikth Merchant Seal - A golden seal with delicate silver and gem given to those associated with one of Sikth's many trade companies or guilds and has seen great success. Edoric's appears to once been a sign of his aptitude but like so much of his belongings in their current state, is faded and worn, its regal nature long gone as only flakes of gold remain, revealing its true nature of stone. Mythic Movement - Perhaps a blessing of the Goddess of Aerya, Edoric's gift is one based in the art of movement. His body sometimes exhibits the rare and strange trait of ignoring the laws of physics or even his own body as he can run on walls, leap great distances, zip through halls and clamber up walls faster than even rangers with their tools. Of course his is not without its limited duration, however, Edoric seems to be able to sometimes draw upon a weaker version of this power effectively letting him "quick step".
525	11	10	2,762	160	Like a wounded animal, the frightened man scurried away from her, analyzing her with wide eyes. Thankfully it didn’t take long for him to realize that Lyanna did not mean any harm to him, quite the contrary, she wanted to help. She took her stance and called out in the opposite direction for whomever or whatever lie there to show itself, a feeling of confidence came when the young man from before stood at her side brandishing a weapon of his own. However, that feeling soon faded once Lyanna noticed that he wielded a sword still sheathed in it’s scabbard. Granted, it did appear a touch more imposing than her own broken blade, but a sheathed sword was not going to do much better by comparison. As if to salt the fleeting feeling, the young man appeared unsure, "Say... you know what you're doing right?" he asked sheepishly. ‘I hope so…’ Lyanna thought yet did not voice it, she knew that if she responded with uncertainty it would unnerve the lad more than he already is. Instead, she glanced in his direction and gave him a confident nod with a slight smile on her sunken visage. This feeling… the feeling of standing side-by-side with someone, armed and ready in anticipation for danger felt awfully familiar to her. As familiar as breathing, almost. Her vision flashed and her senses left her, for a small, fleeting moment she was elsewhere, adopting the same stance, accompanied by a number of men on each side, all armored and armed in a similar fashion. The one to her right was distinguishably younger and threw he an uneasy smile with a nod, the same that she just gave to the silvery haired man whose image melded into the soldier’s in the next moment. What was that? A flash from a different time? A different life? The memory felt so….distant….like it didn’t really happen and was all just in her head. Just what happened to her exactly? But memories of a time long past would have to wait as a new person made its presence noted. This one was another man, dressed in some tattered yet still distinguishably decorated flowing robes. His features appeared fine and almost feminine, his eyes had a faint shine to them and his stance boosted confidence. “I, Xega of Xir, deign to show myself” he spoke, with the same attitude and tone befitting of a man of high birth. “Now name thy own self.” It almost sounded as a demand rather than a request, yet the tone of his voice, the stance he adopted and the air of nobility about him sent more feelings of familiarity through her, as if she had interacted with his kind more often than she thought. However, instead of the comforting feeling this one sent slight jolts of tension through her muscles, why she did not know. For now, she was content with knowing that this person came with no ill will, this made her relax even if just a bit. What was it he said? His name was Xega. Of Xir? That name sounded familiar… Xir..Xir… Ah, yes! Xir was another kingdom, a place where magic existed and magi wielded its powers, if she was not mistaken. Recalling this made her cautious of the robed man again, just because he appeared empty handed does not mean he was harmless if he was indeed a mage. Lyanna didn’t recall ever having confronted sorcery before, and while not being afraid she would prefer it not come to that. “I am Lyanna of Badarium.” she responded “and this is…” she stopped. Only now realizing that she had no idea who the silvery haired man besides her was. “I…I apologize, I did not catch your name…” Once the introductions were made and it became clear that none of them had any hostile intentions towards one or another, Lyanna dropped he guard and sheathed her broken sword at her side, approaching Xega with Edoric by her side. Glancing around she couldn’t see anyone else, perhaps they were the only ones here? More importantly, where was here? And what exactly happened to them? She cleared her throat, slightly, and the addressed Xega “Wise magus, do you know what is happening here? Are we the only ones of…” she hesitated before continuing “…sane mind?” the word was weakly uttered. As if Lyanna didn’t believe the meaning behind it. Who could blame her? Recalling the final moments of your apparent death and then waking up in this place? It would make the most learned of men question their own mental stability.	\|The Shield Maiden\| Lyanna Badarium Late twenties to early thirties People of Badarium were often graced with elegant beauty, delicate features and voluptuous bodies. Lyanna was, for the most part, no exception from the rule. With her soft, pale skin, wavy black hair, comely features and auburn eyes, she certainly caught the gazes of many a man and even a few women, though most were unintentional. However, what one would see at first sight was not all true, for underneath her armor, this 1.71m tall woman would boast a muscular body which contrasted with her feminine curves, the result of hard physical training which also granted her a physical strength comparable with the toughest of men, an aspect which took many by utter surprise due to her appearance. Her rebirth did deteriorate her visage, her skin adopting a shade of grey, her eyes loosing most of their shine and color, and there was also a long, thin gash now ever present on her torso, reaching from her bellybutton and straight upwards stopping just below her collarbone. Courageous, level-headed and loyal to a fault, Lyanna was often commended for these traits by her liege Lord, who more often than not also praised her beauty but she always paid no mind to that, dedicated to serving him loyally and competently as the captain of his personal guard and nothing more. That is to say, she was not always sour and dour, she felt most comfortable when surrounded by her fellow soldiers, the sense of camaraderie that was created through her leadership made them seem like family, the only real family she ever had. Of course, rumors travel far and wide in the Kindom of Badarium and there was much discussion of the female guard captain who became ‘awfully close’ with her subordinates, yet just like the flirtatious intentions of her liege Lord, Lyanna paid no mind to such talk. If the common folk felt secure enough from other dangers that they were able to speak of such things, among others, then it meant she was doing her job properly and that was good enough for her. Shield Master – Lyanna is a skilled warrior, virtually unmatched with a shield in hand. This style of combat is one that requires a strong arm and iron determination, both of which Lyanna possesses in spades, capable of anticipating and blocking attacks only to retaliate with devastating force. Bravery – Fighting in the front line is no task for those faint of heart, Lyanna always keeping an uncanny cool temper even in the face of the most horrific of adversaries. Once she has set a defensive line, she will not yield until her last breath has been given, proving time and again that she will not be easily distraught. Hearty Constitution – Unlike the vast majority of women from her land, Lyanna would spend most of her time undertaking grueling physical training, pushing her body to the limit and overcoming it. With a hard back, iron stomach and a strong arm, Lyanna could not be easily toppled and could take down men twice her size. Damaged Plate Armor – This type of armor is the very symbol of a strong and noble knight, offering great protection while sacrificing mobility. This one, however, has seen better days as the breastplate is battered and broken, missing its upper left side as well as its gorget and right spaulder. Along with that, the entire plating of the right arm seems to be missing, the only thing offering protection being the scalemail shirt underneath which reaches just before the elbow, leaving the left forearm completely exposed. The left side of the armor, the chausses and steel-toed boots are faring no better, being battered and worn but at least they are still there. Worn Heather Shield – A metal shield which offers great protection as well as being light enough to maneuver by a skilled wielder. Time has not been kind to it, being bent, battered and worn to such an extent that even the once proud crest on its surface has become faded and unrecognizable. Broken Arming Sword– The standard issue one-handed sword wielded by any warrior who boasts competence in combat. That is what it once was before whatever unfortunate events rendered it in this state, the blade being dull and broken in half, making it quite worthless. However, ‘near worthless’ trumps ‘empty handed’. Unnatural Might – Since her rebirth, Lyanna has discovered that she possesses an odd, unknown power which triggers, apparently, randomly. This power would manifests itself under the form of many wisps of crimson smoke emanating from her body along with the color(or current lack of color) of her eyes turning to a deep, vibrant red. The effects resulting in a great adrenaline surge coursing through her, removing any sign and sensation of fatigue from her body and increasing her physical strength tenfold, allowing her to shrug off all but the most devastating of blows while delivering unfathomable punishment. This effect does not last long, however, nor can Lyanna ‘trigger’ it on her own. Could this strange power be a gift from the Gods… or something else entirely?
526	11	11	2,786	800	XEGA The silver-haired young man seemed to have recovered his wits, and now stood behind the woman with a sheathed sword at the ready. The way he held it, like a club, either spoke to a lack of training or the condition of the blade. There wasn’t any way to tell which, at the moment, but nonetheless Xega did not let the weapon intimidate him. He flexed his fingers, one at a time, curling them to his palms in a languid motion, then opening them in the reverse order. The woman introduced herself. Lyanna of Badarium. Another nation’s name that rang a bell, but no distinct memories would come forth. The woman seemed satisfied that no violence needed to be done here, and she sheathed her weapon and lowered her shield. She cleared her throat, slightly, and then addressed Xega. “Wise magus, do you know what is happening here? Are we the only ones of…” she hesitated before continuing “…sane mind?” the word was weakly uttered. “No.” Xega said simply, folding his arms into his sleeves. In a way, this was a movement of similar nature to the woman’s sheathing of her blade. It, as well as the finger flexing from before, seemed to be reflexes. Even if his memories weren’t entirely intact, it seemed his body’s muscles, slight as they were, remembered whatever movements they had been trained to perform in tandem with his spellcraft. “I do not know what has happened here beyond the obvious; we’ve risen from the dead, and I presume that the rest of you suffer the same condition I do in regards to our memory faculties. I hypothesize, thus far, that it is the work of a necromancer who intends to deliver unto us some fell task or use us in some abhorrent ritual.” He shrugged. “But one would think such a sorcerer would be present. And seems to me that such effort to raise the dead, in such a condition as we are--made wholesome once more despite our cause of death--would be more taxing than simply capturing some schmuck to bleed out on one’s altar.” He took a few steps off to one side, looking around the chamber. As he did so he continued to speak to Lyanna and Edoric, though in the way a lecturer might to a student, and without looking directly at them. “We are also not the only ones to have risen. I have already met a Miss Syrenia, of Iliandur, on the other side of this blood-soaked tower. And with her is another woman, who called out to us in hesitant confusion. I believe Miss Syrenia awoke before I did, perhaps by now she has learned more of our situation. I do not know how many more of these corpses will rise...nor what condition their minds will be in when they do.” He heard a sound then, and turned towards it, his hands reappearing and falling to his sides. It sounded like a growl of some sort. “Ah, of course. There is also the matter of animals. Of course I should have suspected we might encounter some blighted beast; there’s plenty of scraps for it, after all.” He looked back at Lyanna and Edoric, and simply nodded in the direction of the sound. Afterwards he began to approach it...Slowly, he rounded another pile of corpses lying some few feet from the tower, and came across a shallow pool of the murky red fluid. Standing in it, covered head to toe in it, was yet another woman, this one with pale alabaster skin and hair that should have been blonde, but had seemingly been washed in blood. Her appearance, like Lyanna’s, would have been quite pleasing to the eye were she not wearing the guise of some horrific ghoul. When she tried to speak again, only that strange growl came out. Xega stared at her for a long moment. “...Has your tongue been cut out?” he finally asked, before he stroked his chin with one hand and muttered to himself. “How strange...I was under the impression that we had all risen with our wounds healed...but perhaps it is only whatever that caused our death that has been cured? Would Lyanna and Syrenia, being trained warriors, perhaps still bear scars that were gained before they died? Hmm…” He stood there, tapping his foot, for some time before he looked up, as if he had just remembered there were others there with him. “I am Xega, of Xir.” he said plainly to the woman who apparently could not speak. “I mean you no harm, should you mean myself the same.”	\| The Magus \| Xega Xir Early Twenties Xega, as a studious mage of one of the most prestigious academies of Xir--though he can't remember which one--has the frail form one would associate with such. At a height of five feet and eleven inches, he stands just short of the standard many might consider "manly," but then most mages weren't concerned with such matters of primitive brawn. He barely weighs one hundred and forty pounds, and has woman-like features especially about his face and slender, nimble fingers. Currently, immediately after his Rebirth, his eyes bear deep lines beneath them and his cheeks are sunken; his illustrious, deep purple hair is now messy and looks as if it hadn't been washed in days. Xega is self-centered and arrogant, and considers himself an intellectual only concerned with his pursuits of arcane mystery. He finds such things as physical strength and athleticism to be beneath him, and considers those who would employ such against him to be barbarians--and yet, like any man of the mind, he finds himself infuriatingly helpless against such overpowering brawn. Xega cannot stand not knowing the answer to a question, and will maddeningly seek a solution with relentless zeal. His excitement can be contagious, as despite his normal introversion, if he can connect with someone about his studies he becomes much more personable. Skilled Magician - Xega was a graduate student of his academy, pursuing research and conducting experiments alongside some of the finest minds of Xir. As such, his command of the arcane arts is considerably mighty. Fulgurmancy - Xega's preferred forms of battlecraft, the magics of conflict, involves the use of controlled lightning. With it he can produce bolts or streams of white hot lightning to electrocute and scorch his enemies. The short lived nature of lightning, however, makes it hard to use defensively or to maintain a spell for long periods. Sharp Mind - As one who has researched and studied for such a large portion of his life, and being naturally intelligent and inquisitive, Xega is equipped to handle many a mystery or mental puzzle with relative ease. Wizard's Staff - A hardwood staff of about six feet, its last third of length seemingly naturally grown into the shape of a plaited braid. It curls slightly, forming a hook onto which to attach Xega's magus foci. The staff itself merely provides a means of gesture and focus, as well as a last line of defense. Runes are etched into its surface, their protective wards being the only thing that kept the staff from being stolen from his corpse. Crystal Lantern - This shining brass lantern holds within it a crystal of condense arcane power, which serves as a collector of ambient magical energies and a focus for Xega to use to reduce the strain on himself when channeling the Arcane Stream. Its magics are bonded specifically to Xega himself, making it useless to anyone else, and some of the same runes that protected the staff protected it as well. Book Satchel - Once, this satchel held Xega's tomes of sorcery. They have been looted from his former corpse, however, all but one--a basic textbook that was already far outdated in Xega's own time, and is now so dry rotted and yellowed as to be practically illegible. Runesight - A gift that can only be from Arcanus himself, Xega will find that at certain times magical runes appear within the depths of his black pupils, which dilate to a much larger size as if engulfing a void. These runes confer upon him powerful magic sight, granting him visions of "true nature," which sometimes include not just what something truly "is," but perhaps, if the target of his sight is now broken, a vision of what it "once was." It cannot be activated by Xega's own will as of yet, though he struggles to understand it and use it as he would all his other magics. A fitting power, for one whose life is driven by endless thirst for knowledge.
527	11	12	465	6,811	Edoric simply watched and observed as the knight Lyanna and the magos Xega conversed about their situation. The two were certainly a pretty interesting bunch from first impressions at least, one from a kingdom of magic and the other a kingdom of sensual indulgence. Both rang faint bells inside Edoric's head, had he been there before? Where they even around the same time periods? Could it have been one was built upon the ruins of the other? It was quite clear that his mind was still cobbling itself together after its long slumber and its reconstruction after he snapped. The merchant prayed to whatever God was still around that it didn't make himself look too much like a babbling madman, it would not be good first impressions but something told Edoric not to worry about that. He'd already botched it. “I do not know what has happened here beyond the obvious; we’ve risen from the dead, and I presume that the rest of you suffer the same condition I do in regards to our memory faculties. I hypothesize, thus far, that it is the work of a necromancer who intends to deliver unto us some fell task or use us in some abhorrent ritual. But one would think such a sorcerer would be present. And seems to me that such effort to raise the dead, in such a condition as we are--made wholesome once more despite our cause of death--would be more taxing than simply capturing some schmuck to bleed out on one’s altar.” Edoric listened intently as the Magos Xega spoke, his mind much sharper than his own on such matters. Matters of arcane had always intrigued the man, but after a few dabbles into it, he had convinced himself that perhaps it was the shine of gold which his mind saw more clearly than that of ancient tomes and mythical scrolls. However, Edoric did discover that such could make for good bed time stories for those long, sleepless nights that crawled back into his memories. "I've heard of these sorts of things before on my travels. To some degree of truth, probably." Edoric corrected himself as he present his own idea of their situation, "I've heard that there are pagans who've managed to call upon the spirits of the dead through unholy rituals, albeit not full bodies. If I remember correctly there was also a plague in the city of... of... ermm... never mind. There was something that had spread amongst the populace which caused deaths like these, but nothing about resurrection. Perhaps this state might be a mix of events?" Edoric can only pray that he didn't sound too ignorant or uninformed compared to that of Xega, lest he get a mouthful of how improbable such things were before he'd quote some advanced arcane scripture on the matter. Never the less, those stories where true in the way that Edoric had heard them from others in life, he thought at least. "O-oh, I've almost forgotten to introduce myself." Edoric took a step back and place one hand on his chest and the other outstretched to his side and gracefully bowed, "Edoric of Sikth? Yes, Skith. Merchant explorer of House-" Shit, Edoric mentally cursed. His brain had made the connection to merchant houses of his homeland but stopped right there, his mind unable to draw up a name, You're making a wonderful fool of yourself mate "Edoric of Skith; merchant explorer of House Dwyndelir", Edoric quickly repeated himself and inserted a random name, hoping that no one would notice as he formed up a much more level-headed, almost noble fascade, "Sorry about that, it would seem that this place has had quite the effect on my mind-" A low growl echoed in the bloody chamber as Xega piped up once more, “Ah, of course. There is also the matter of animals. Of course I should have suspected we might encounter some blighted beast; there’s plenty of scraps for it, after all.” Gripping his sword-mace with ironhands and sweatly palms, Edoric worried on what "beast" Xega was speaking of. He wanted to say that it might have just been soem stray wolf, allured by the scent of meat and blood. But given the giant instinal-looking thing that hung from the ceiling (and whose unholy slime had slithered down his back), Edoric was expecting something much, much worse. Something like a... mute woman? Edoric listened as Xega began to talk once more, a chatty one he was but none the less informative or inquisitive. As the woman in question moved more in closer to Edoric's feel of view, he could immediately tell she was worse for wear than possibly any of them. Forgoing the missing tongue which was no doubt the cause of her beastly growls, he could tell that she was of royalty, or at the very least, of wealth. But it had seemed like such wealth was a distant memory given her lack of shoes and sunken face with a number of blemishes upon her probably pretty face. "Edoric of Sikth; Explorer Merchant of House Dwyndelir." Edoric politely bowed, his lie much more natural this time, "Can I assume that you also have no idea how you ended up in such a hell?"	\| The Merchant \| Edoric Sikth Mid to Late Twenties Making a living off of trade and caravaning, Edoric has quite a sturdy, enduring build despite his otherwise ordinary looking frame. Nearing six-feet, he often has an air of assurance and professionalism about him, not doubt a facade he's had to wear for his line of work that has stuck. However, he doesn't exactly have an imposing figure, one that can stand out no doubt, but not one that could exactly strong arm someone. With an almost noble-like stance to his posture, his emerald eyes sit like jewels in a weathered face along with a tuff of silvery hair, Edoric sometimes radiates confidence, if not cockiness. Since his rebirth, he's found the additions of of broken chains around his wrists and ankles as well as quite the nasty scar around his neck. Edoric is almost child-like in a way, always curious and always yearning for a next adventure to weave into one of his many tales he loves to tells. Perhaps it was this wanderlust that got him killed in the first place. He likes to pretend to be as brave an courageous as the noble knights of fairytales are, but is still scared of such things as the dark and heights. Some might dare say he tends to be hypocritical. One should not confuse his youth-like nature for immaturity or stupidity however; Edoric's business aptitude as a merchant is a thing of itself, spilling over and turning him to be greedy and hoarding at times. At such times he can exist some pretty extreme pragmatism that focuses on his survival and fortunes. That said, he does have a charitable side to him and is willing to share, sometimes even for free. Merchant of Sikth - Like many of his home kingdom, Edoric's ability to work with numbers and coin is only matched by his greed. Likewise, he is no stranger to shadier dealings or underhand tactics, as they say in Sikth after all, "the coin must be earned through any means". Explorer's Endurance - Through many a travels through many a lands and environments, Edoric's stamina and endurance is easily able to match that of professional soldiers and knights even though he has little professional training in such areas. It also keep him quick on his feet for when jumping across unstable stones and logs atop a cliff waterfall are the only way forward. Blunted Broadsword - A once beautiful and sharp sword of brass and black leather with a blade that shone like sliver, now is chipped and dull and in desperate need of a touch up. As such, Edoric's only weapon cannot even be used as the sword it was made to be but instead acts more like a two handed club thanks to its hard sheath. Merchant Knapsack - Every good merchant knows that even if you have a pack animal or ship, you should always have a personal bag. Unfortuantely, it seems that whatever Edoric had been carrying has long since been lost, looted or misplaced leaving him with little more than dust and rubbish. Sikth Merchant Seal - A golden seal with delicate silver and gem given to those associated with one of Sikth's many trade companies or guilds and has seen great success. Edoric's appears to once been a sign of his aptitude but like so much of his belongings in their current state, is faded and worn, its regal nature long gone as only flakes of gold remain, revealing its true nature of stone. Mythic Movement - Perhaps a blessing of the Goddess of Aerya, Edoric's gift is one based in the art of movement. His body sometimes exhibits the rare and strange trait of ignoring the laws of physics or even his own body as he can run on walls, leap great distances, zip through halls and clamber up walls faster than even rangers with their tools. Of course his is not without its limited duration, however, Edoric seems to be able to sometimes draw upon a weaker version of this power effectively letting him "quick step".
528	11	13	2,688	110	Ratha The murky red confines of the young blonde’s lungs clawed its way up her throat, the unused organs revolting against their rebirth and the intrusion of liquid into their domain. A quick blur saw a pale and slender hand shoot out to push herself up out of the small pool she found herself laying in; her aching fingers made contact with something cold and leathery, her brow furrowed as she moved her hand over the foreign object. It moved under her touch, stiff and lifeless as she followed it up into a small divot, smooth and hollow as if something had once occupied it. The use of muscles long atrophied sent pins and needles dancing up her arm as the groggy woman tried to pull her mind away for the swirling memories dancing behind her eyes; they teased her and called for her, she knew that they were important but couldn’t remember much else, not her name, her lineage, her birthplace, anything. A groan escaped her lips as the echoing of voices chimed cheerfully in her ear. Someone was rattling on, words, places, some she recognized others had no meaning to her, but they seemed to know their names…what was her name….her teeth mashed against her lower lip in frustration as she laid there hunched over desperately clawing through her rugged mind for her name. ’Why does a dead woman need a name? The thought tore through her, her other hand caressing the armor bound against her a small crack ran through it expanding outwards from the left side…but something was missing….wasn’t there an arrow there before….green eyes peered downward focusing on the empty space, the bright gold fletched arrow was gone, the only proof of it was the hole in her chest plate. Its worn green livery flickered a scene in her mind’s eye, the warmth of the summer sun and the subtle wind of the forest surrounded her briefly before replaced once again by the cold dark dampness she now found herself in. This was wrong, she had been on patrol…hunting a trespasser….how did she get here…The harsh stone and brackish water were clear indicators that she was no longer in the forest, and that the fields of Irisia were long gone. Irisia? Is that where she was from, the thought seemed right to her, at least she hand answered one question, her eyes traveled away from the armor, down to see what her other hand rested on. An eyeless face stared back up at her, a barbaric grin plastered across its face, frozen by time, unwilling to focus on it her eyes shifted around her finding more and more corpses littering the ground around her. It seemed that the answer to where she was would be among the dead, the clarity of the thought was lost as her wavering and fraying emotions took over; her body took over doubling her over once again as low retched coughs tore through her, unfortunately the entire content of her stomach was nothing but cold acid that tore at her already sore throat. Several seconds passed like hour as she continued to dry heave against the unmoving ground, a small whimper escaping her lips. What god had she pissed off that would bring her back in such a desolate place, a hand reaching up to cover her mouth eyes brimming with hot tears threatening to mix with the bile of pile soaking into her right hand. Perhaps this is Hell. Another clear and cold thought cut through the food in her mind, one she gladly latched on to, perhaps she hadn’t been a good Ranger, was that right….in her past life so know she had to atone for it. Revived alone amongst the dead; a soft light shimmered on the water drawing her attention upwards grateful for any reprieve against the darkness seeping into her mind. Another whimper hung in the air as she scrambled backwards landing ungracefully on her haunches with a loud splash into another puddle, a strange spear refracting in its grips unnoticed as her eyes stayed transfixed on the pulsing sack hanging far above her head. ”This….T-This has to be Hell…I’ve been damned..” A harsh grating sound rumbled in her chest as she spoke, the words were forced and sharp, her voice cracking with each syllable, the soft melody it used to carry long gone. Unable to tear her eyes away from the strange creature, if it was even a creature she didn’t hear the words being spoken by the others until the clattering of people moving caught her attention. Just because there where others didn’t mean it was safe, maybe it was someone sent to test her, or to kill her again. Her hands flailed out around her searching for a weapon, a shield, anything that would aid in her survival. Why she needed to survive she didn’t know, but the thought was clear and set into her head. Her left hand curled around the wooden handle, drawing it closer and out of the waters depth. The wood was warm in her cold touch, the pronged blade catching the lowlight sending small reflections of it dancing around the blonde. Her hands naturally found the worn hand holds and settled there using it deftly to brace herself against slowly rising once more to her feet. A quick succession of hand motions sent the trident spinning lazily through the air making small circles around her, the pull and strain on muscles long since used was a welcomed feeling. It felt right, a small nagging sensation whispered that this was hers, not a weapon callously thrown away, this was something she had worked for and had honed her skills on. A soft smile graced her cracked lips, she was Ratha, and she was the only Ranger dumb enough to use a spear. Craddling the weapon close to her chest, she sighed breathing in the putrid air deeply before steeling herself. It would be better to announce herself than wait and be discovered perhaps that way she might have the advantage of surprise if it came down to a fight for her life. ”Hello? Is anyone there?”	\|The Pursuant\| Ratha Irisia Twenty-Two At first glance the young woman seems to have a slender build, muscles supple and faintly defined, gentle curves falling into all the right places, her skin was relatively unblemished and smooth as if she never worked hard in a day of her life. The only sign of wear would be the strange callouses on her palms rough and textured unlike the rest of the Rangers, a sign that she wielded a different weapon than the telltale signs of wielding a bow. She stands around five foot six inches allowing for long blonde hair to flow gently down her shoulders and down past the small of her back to be tied loosely with a green band keeping it from becoming tangled and caught on the rest of her; her face narrowed at the chin, sharp cheekbones contrast to the delicate nature of her cream colored skin. Bright emerald eyes peer out from under the soft feathered bangs often wistless and staring off to far places away from the fields and forest of Irisia. Armed sharp tongue and a mischievous grin, Ratha was never one lacking friends often spending her outings with the other Rangers playing small tricks and pranks on foreign travelers making sure they would never get too comfortable in Irisia; that they would never think of this place as nothing more than a nice place to visit but that it wasn’t for staying in. Her desire to play pranks is a manifest of her need to constantly do something that shaped to make quick decisions and she’s often the first to venture off and explore the unknown. She carries a streak of pride in her abilities and has a tendency to look down on others that ask for help, even went far enough to ignore the plea for help from the starving villagers and continued on with her duties unphased by walking through the streets the dying laying around her. Her pride seems to have taken a hit with the Rebirth and she now finds herself riddled with self hate whenever she isn’t able to accomplish something by herself. Plant Knowledge A Ranger from a farming country, she was brought up learning the different plants which she could eat, which could be used as poison or in the right combination can be used as a poultice for a field dressing. She used to keep a small book of various plant life but lost it, with the new environment she has taken a liking to stopping and studying the new fauna. Pole arm Combat Capable of switching between close range to long range combat, the pole arm allows for her to add more varieties to her attacks and maneuvers. While she wasn’t able to be as effective as using the standard Ranger’s Bow, it kept her from being defenseless when a the target was able to reach close enough that the bow lost effectiveness. Quick and easy motions that worked well to create distance between her and any attacker. Tracking & Hunting Drilled into her during her training to become a Ranger, Ratha excelled at tracking her teachers but seemed less enthused to commit to the hunting portion of the classes. She has an easy time reading paths from partial footprints, broken twigs, disturbed foliage; they were taught to both track animals and to follow outsiders that strayed too far into area’s that weren’t allowed in, the hunting was meant to keep the larder’s of the Royal families full and stocked with variety. If needed they would send out a Ranger to find something new and exotic. -Celeste’s Guardian- Ratha’s trident, a long pole arm, dark green handle with gold design covering it, worn parts of the handle revealed the dark yew it was made of. A supple wood giving it flexibility and a soft firmness allowing it to absorb impact and bend to redirect attacks; two prongs glimmer at the top aimed downwards matching up to the three prongs spearing off from the top, an elegant weapon. A custom make though the maker and the reason why she choose this weapon has been long lost to her. -Ranger’s Outfit- Long slashes cut through the back of the outfit, the tattered green cloth was lined with gold filigree. Several different pieces of leather armor were belted and tied into place protecting the more vital areas of the body while leaving enough freedom that movements are completely unrestricted. The right gauntlet and the left leg guard had been long lost, a careless mistake from her rookie days, though she no longer remembers how. -Leather Pouch- Relatively empty, small scraps of berries and herbs, a handful of dried meat. The basic fare Ranger’s carried with them out in the field, no trace of money. The only thing that tugged at her was a small silver trinket, a flower hairpin with small jewels hanging from the tips of the metal flower. She keeps it close and tucked in a small hidden pocket of the small pouch. Falcon’s Eyes- Because of the fickle nature of the gift, Ratha’s eyes at times become unfocused, as if looking at something far off. It helps her focus on a target, whether it be one she was intending to see or something that she needs to view. More often than not it happens at the most ill conceived times often taking her by surprise. While unable to use it to focus on target’s or objects far away she can use it to hyper focus and pinpoint on the subtleties around her.
529	11	14	1,524	552	Frei Frei arrived in time to see colorful heads, one a sunken violet and the other pink, a young man and a woman respectively, from what she could tell. The former started off, and instinctively she wanted to call out for him to wait. Surely someone so frail in appearance should not wander in a place like this, not alone. But he wasn’t, for not a few moments later she heard the chattering of other voices. Perhaps he would be safe for the time being, but she would be sure to check just as soon as she got some answers. The pink-haired girl had stayed behind, and much like the young man she appeared petite and battered. Was she a child? Frei shuddered to think children might be caught up in whatever horrific things were going on, but she also found her resolve strengthened at the notion. Upon closer inspection she found the girl to be brandishing a ruined sword, at which point Frei came to a stop and put out a hand in open surrender. ”I’m sorry,” she said softly, as much due to the condition of her throat as her will to lower her own voice. ”I don’t mean to startle, I’m a friend.” It occurred to Frei that the statement, however well meaning, could be a lie. She didn’t know who this girl was, where she came from, or how she was mixed up in the current events. In their prior lives, they might have been mortal enemies, or they might have been complete strangers. The sword in her hand could have been plunged into the hearts of Frei’s closest allies, or loved ones, if she had any, or it could have been used in the protection of innocent lives. Looking around at the carnage, and hearing the distant voices again, Frei felt it a risk worth taking. Slowly, hand still out and open, she approached. ”My name is Frei, I just woke up not too far that way. Are you alright? Do you need help?” Suddenly aware of the sword she carried, Frei gave the handle a few good tugs. It remained firmly sheathed through the leather straps binding it. ”Oh sorry. See? Shut tight, I promise I won’t draw it on you, if you promise not to stick me with yours. Deal?”	\| The Merciful \| Frei Draethir 25 Frei’s armor –or at least what remains of it– is dark as pitch where it isn’t scuffed, and lined by a brilliantly unmarred red. It conceals a warrior’s frame, lean muscle combating her feminine figure and habit of hunching. Even so she’s well above average height, and stands with a naturally imposing posture. Though her face holds an inherent softness, and though she is not often one to frown, it also carries a great potential for fury. Her eyes are a burning hue, and can be challenging to meet even on amicable terms. Since her rebirth, a noose with a frayed-off end remains wrapped ‘round her neck, tucked beneath her gorget. Contrary to both her appearance and land of origin, Frei is a gentle and compassionate woman who abhors violence against other people. In fact, all she seems to want to do is protect them, either from themselves through a well-meaning if not overtly idealistic diplomacy, or from the creatures infesting the world through vindicated action. She enjoys talking to people, hearing their stories, listening to their opinions and woes in the hopes that she can offer help, or at least the comfort of company in their terrible world. However, with reasoning unbeknownst to her, she suffers from infrequent yet potent flashes of anger. These thoughts feel as alien to Frei as they do revolting. Despite what she may like to believe, Frei’s true talents lie in the art of combat. She’s swift even in her armor, and handles the sword with practiced expertise. She does not, however, have experience fighting the creatures brought on by the Inalienable Dreamless, a skillset she would much rather possess over the ability to fight people. –Broken Greatsword– With a tight, black-leather hilt, ornate –if still nicked– guard, and ruby pommel, it’s easy to believe that this sword might have once been a thing of beauty and status. However the wide blade, an equally umbral color, is missing its top third, snapped off at an edge. An engraving near the base reads “Mercy”. –Draethir Armor– While missing a spaulder, a gauntlet, and its helmet, the sleek-fitted armor does its job well. Its Black bulk and red lining were once iconic to the Dominion of Draethir, a fact now either lost to Frei, or willfully ignored. –Ember Veins– Frei’s blood is passively warmer than natural, to no noticeable defect. When spilt however, the temperature spikes higher, an effect to which she is immune. At this point, barring the fickle nature of such Gifts, the blood can ignite to a multitude of uses, such as the imbuing of weapons with a long-lasting fire effect.
530	12	0	578	130	The crossroads was rather empty tonight. Not the diner nestled snugly on the corner, but the bargaining itself. Abyzu sat in the middle of it, cross legged and brooding, as person after person passed in and out of the little restaurant's front door. She was itching to make a deal. Business had been slow lately, not that it was ever booming, but less and less simpletons seemed to be interested in having whatever they desire. Maybe it's the price, she pondered, picking dirt out from under her fingernails. Parents were less keen on giving up their child's soul instead of theirs. Of course, part of the contract was that they not speak of the deal, so if rules were being broken.. Then she could collect sooner. A wicked smile spread across Abby's face as she pushed herself to her feet. If they wouldn't come to her, she would go to them.	RAGUEL ARCHANGEL OF JUSTICE, FAIRNESS, VENGEANCE, AND HARMONY "I LAY TO REST THE WICKED" "ASSBUTT" BASICS CHARACTER FULL NAME: Raguel NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Reggie HEIGHT: 5' 9" BODY TYPE: Mesomorph, athletic, bottom heavy. AGE: Appears about 26 GENDER: None; goes by "she" PERSONALITY: Raguel is just as clueless as most of her angel brethren, but she finds humanity more fascinating than most. She's particularly interested in their need for pleasure and self satisfaction. She's ruthless and righteous, like any good angel, but she secretly has a mind of her own. She hasn't met her prophet yet but she deeply wants to. She almost wishes something bad would happen to him/her so that she could appear to save the day. Her main traits are basically summed up in her title. Justice and Vengeance: she tries her very hardest to make sure everyone gets what they deserve. Fairness and Harmony: she loves conflict, but not stupid conflict, so she strives to keep order. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: God SIBLINGS: All angels EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Pamela Vander (the prophet she guards) HISTORY (OPTIONAL): None yet, I develop characters through roleplay. EXTRA INFORMATION: N/A ABYZU CROSSROADS DEMON "BOY, THERE ISN'T ROOM IN YOUR PANTS." (picture is.. under construction) BASICS APPEARANCE: short, fire engine red hair, red eyes, dark skin. CHARACTER FULL NAME: Abyzu NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Abby HEIGHT: 5' 9" BODY TYPE: Ectomorph, average AGE: Appears about 32 GENDER: None; goes by "she" PERSONALITY: Abyzu is the best employee Crowley could ever ask for. She's sadistic and hateful, her deals are always sealed quickly and quietly, and she enjoys pain. So much pain. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: N/A EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: N/A HISTORY: Abby takes the souls of children. Her power comes from these souls. EXTRA INFORMATION: She has a thing for flirting. PAMELA VANDER PROPHET OF THE LORD "WAIT.. WHAT?" (picture is under construction) BASICS APPEARANCE: Portly, short, mousy, silver hair, one green eye, one yellow eye, crooked smile. CHARACTER FULL NAME: Pamela Vander NICK NAME OR ALIAS: None HEIGHT: 5' 6" BODY TYPE: Mesomorph, skinny, out of shape AGE: 14 GENDER: Female PERSONALITY: Pamela is always very confused. She doesn't do very well in school and she has a hard time concentrating on one thing at a time. She has a habit of refusing to do things she doesn't want to. She's a little lazy and kind of selfish, but her heart is in the right place. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: Daren Vander (he won't be mentioned) EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Raguel (the Archangel who guards her) HISTORY (OPTIONAL): EXTRA INFORMATION: Pamela secretly got a tattoo of a half moon with a wolf's paw for her brother.
531	12	1	1,568	52	Ian sat quietly in the hotel room that he had gotten just the other day. Right after deciding that he was going to stick around a bit longer to plan his next move. Chewing on his lip in frustration. With minimal concentration on the task that he had been doing before he had just given up. Leaning back on the chair with his laptop right in front of him on the small dark plastic table that he figured was painted to look like it was made out of wood. Judging by the way that it sounded with the tapping of his bored and annoyed fingers. Letting out a heavy sigh, shaking out his head, sitting forward in his chair to put all four legs back down on the tan carpet. Giving the laptop a silent glare as if it was the one that needed to answer for all the trouble that he was having when he was a hunter. He had made it in this small town just in time to find out that another, much older, hunter had gotten to the job before he did. To Ian, he had been seeing this all over the place. He would find a job close by, then, right when he got there. Someone else had already done all the work. Patted him on the back while telling him that he didn't have to worry about the bady any longer. That they took care of it. He was starting to get sick of all the more experienced hunters treating him as if he was still just a kid. He might have been young, more spry. He was determined to show that he was his father's son. That he would leave up to the Cosden hunting name. Even if he had to do it all on his own.	IAN COSDEN HUNTER "Small tricks won't work on me... Sweetheart" "Dude!?! Really!?! Loosen up a little!!" Full name: Ian Cosden Alias: Jackson Wright Height: 5'11" Body type: Thin yet muscular Age: Just barely 22 Gender: Male MAYLA BETHELL SKINWALKER "Have you seen the world through the eyes of a dog??... No!! Then don't assume you know anything." Skinwalker form: Full name: Mayla Bethell Nickname: May Heigth: 4'11" Body type: Thin and a little lanky Age: 10 Gender: Female
532	12	2	179	5,683	Erik Shaeffer sighed and muttered as he sat on a bench at an intersection. He ran his fingers through his hair as he thought about the circumstances bringing him here, in the middle of winter, in the first place. The town alone was a hotspot for activity, and a few contacts of his had mentioned some possible rare artifacts in the town. Yet, he hadn’t seen any such artifacts, and suspicious activity was around, yet so did it appear other hunters. He didn’t have much of an idea as to what he should do. He considered going out hunting. He wasn’t nearly as young as he used to be, he knew, but it still annoyed him that he couldn’t sprint like he used to. He tried a few pushups that morning and was disgusted with his performance. He felt like an old fart, and he hated it. With that in mind, he gave a sigh and leaned back on the bench, looking at a cute pair of girls walking across the street, looking completely innocent and happy. There might have been a time when he would have gone over to flirt with them. That was before he met a particular skinwalker… he shuddered at the memory. It was too horrific to recall, and he quickly shoved it out of his mind. How can people live like this, anyways… The fact that so many people could worry about little things, like how their hair was for the day, when people died horribly to a nigh infinite amount of monsters of every sort. He lazily watched the bustling traffic, and continued thinking in circles like he had been doing for several years. ”Your host is ready. He’s a good one, quite willing to let you in, and he’s in a nice spot on the countryside. I gave him ‘the talk’ for you. “Thank you. The tablets I know I am looking for, but anything else? “Oh, you know… any demons around, fair game, monsters pissing you off, they are fair game too. Castiel fucked so much up I wouldn’t be surprised if you could pick out a monster in a random crowd of twenty people these days.” “By the way, humanity has changed a bit since last time you visited. I know you had a good impression from their knights… but… they aren’t quite as… common anymore. Nonetheless, you’ll be fine. And just one more thing...“ If you meet someone outside our jurisdiction; then send them to me.” A flash of light, visible on the south side of Fremont but ever more noticeable to those supernatural or trained to know those sort of things, briefly filled the sky. It seemed to originate from a small house on the south side. Although nobody was looking at the time, there was in fact a very bright light coming out of each window of the house; an ever so brief flash of his true form. Kaephypton rose from the floor, slight steam sizzling out from his mouth as he automatically adjusted to his new body. The eyes started off blurry, almost impossible to see through, before they sharpened into something he was more accustomed using. Turning slightly, he saw a fresh corpse of a human woman… with no eyes and who had just slid down the wall. It appears humans are still as weak as they were… The force of his true form coming to earth had smacked her clear into the wall and the sight had rendered her unable to see. The impact had snapped her neck. Ignoring the corpse besides him, he walked up to the unfamiliar door. The handle had… changed. He pushed it forward, but nothing happened. He tried pulling it. Nothing either. “So… it’s stuck.“ He pushed harder, forcing the door to open outwards and taking a small part of the frame out with it. When he let go of the handle, the door fell down the steps with a less-than-subtle crash. It was a wonder that nobody had looked and saw him yet; then again, most people were at work. He awkwardly positioned the door by the front yard fence, and pushed through it with ease. At least this door isn’t jammed. he began to walk down the sidewalk, before deciding it would be better off it he chose a more open avenue and started walking down the quiet road. He saw various big hunks of material on each side that he didn’t know what to make of. “What a strange place this is now…” Redmond was behind a bar, looking at the delicious body that was standing in front of him. He had to eat somehow, and these prostitutes had made wonderful meals. They came out looking for something different, apparently, from the way one of them had almost screamed before he quickly ate her head off. This would make his fifth kill this week. “Well?” she asked him impatiently. “Oh, yes… of course. Forgive me.” he walked up to her. “Close your eyes, dear.” As she closed her eyes, his head transformed into its true form, swiftly consuming her in a matter of 20 seconds. She never knew what hit her. As he walked out of the ally, he noticed a small stain on his shirt and frowned. “A mess? I never make a mess…” he tried wiping it off, to no avail. He ignored it from then on.	Redmond Drayer Surviving Leviathan ---------------------------------------------- ”Dick Roman fit his name in more ways than one. Now that he’s gone, I can do things the right way...” ---------------------------------------------- Basics Height: 5’6 Age: Immortal (first creation of God, so… fits the age rather well) Gender: Takes the form of a male. Body Type: Extended Personality Not the strongest of Leviathans, Redmond has always disagreed with Roman’s policy of senseless or even systematic assimilation of all into a single, controllable host. Redmond prefers chaos and lack of unity; something which makes it easier for him to act without those knowing. Unfortunately for him, he was one of the last of his kind to have been created and therefore one of the youngest; that leaves him at a disadvantage compared to others. However, with his old hated boss gone, he has explored new possibilities - including the expansion of his own inherent powers to include more… celestial representations. Not that this has worked yet, but he’s not going to give up. It’s rather difficult to stop him, so that has only helped to boost his confidence. He is more sadistic than other Leviathan‘s and may attempt to deliver beings expressing their powers in overly obvious ways (read: OP players) an “entertaining” first class ticket to his main course dinner plate. That said, he’s not stupid; he can cover his tracks well from the average hunter and can fool other beings that may or may not even know what he is. Backstory One of the last Leviathans to be created, he was more of a grunt power wise for the strongest of his kind, known as Dick Roman most recently. However, he always secretly despised how the others adhered to a policy of combining “Illuminati” style domination of others with dull feeding. Redmond liked chaos and picking his victims that had the most chance of realizing just where the threat would be coming from. Purgatory was his favorite place. It had all the chaos he could want; he was top of the food chain and enjoyed himself even as the others hated it. That made him the opposite of the other Leviathans when taken out of Purgatory by Castiel - he half-heartedly took up the side task of hunting and eating Castiel even as he was sent to take out others who were providing a fuss, such as the hunter Frank. Alas, he never met up with his goal, and tended to be elsewhere when the real action was happening. It did, however, save him from being one of those sucked to Purgatory by the death of Roman; he was far out of range and was one of the few to be left wandering the world. When he heard of Roman’s death, he hadn’t been so happy since he first discovered the nature of Purgatory. he went up in Alaska for a while, killing hunters and those who strayed off the trail, before picking up on the news of the “hot spot”, as the contacts who brought it to his attention called it. It was at that point that he decided to head to Fremont, the hotspot that had been called by his contacts “the big one” (at least, before he cleaned up loose ends and ate the said contacts…) Family If you’re Leviathan, you’re his brother (or sister?). Other -This character will be mostly killing NPC’s, but if you want to meet up with him in the course of roleplay to have the experience of fighting (and quite possibly dying to) a Leviathan, feel free. -If characters step way too out of line power wise or blatantly kill other player’s characters without any sort of advance warning or discussion, they might wake up (or turn around) to find a less than attractive mouth coming at them… -All normal ways to disable a Leviathan apply, and are a little more effective than on others if anything. At this point, nobody can make him “bib” because nobody has the authority. -The one known way to kill one isn’t something that’s going to happen in 5 posts. You can do it, just go with a little advance warning and make the path to death “logical” (as the supernatural universe can be). -To anyone who doesn’t know what he is, he is a monster (if they identify him as the killer). Keep in mind he can shapeshift to the form of those he touches, so one can lose the path without much difficulty (although I won’t make it stupidly impossible to track him, as that would just be boring roleplay). -his body looks like that of one of his particular favorite victims... -Yes, he can eat an Archangel. The above applies, though, and no Archangel will be eaten unless the GM steps in as God and destines my guy to mysteriously locate them to serve as a first course meal. Kaephypton Angelic Agent ---------------------------------------------- ”Without discipline, even the Angels can fall. Castiel taught us that.” ---------------------------------------------- (as of current host) Basics Height: 5’3 Age: Immortal (Among the first beings created by god, although younger than all Archangels) Gender: Identifies as male via his host. Body Type: Relatively fit, nothing special in that regard. Extended Personality The classic agent of heaven. He doesn’t understand just about any human convention to ever be created, having spent his time in heaven as more of a “poster child” and someone on hold, usually sent to 1v1 demons. He’s scornful of anyone who doesn’t uphold the highest of angelic ideals and feels dirty after a while of interacting with humans. He stands out like a sore thumb and tends to only identify demons and pursue them, or identify a tablet if he ever comes across one. His discipline is known across heaven, and to demons as well. Backstory <insert generic Angel life story here> The only thing to his existence that makes him stand out is his practice killing demons that heaven sends him to take out. He was sent to the mortal realm to find tablets by his superior, Talthael, who serves a small network of angels following the split in the Host’s leadership across various factions. He is, as of now, deemed “incorruptible” - the whole reason why he was sent in the first place. His life story was rather generic simply because he did everything he was supposed to, and not much more. The one thing in particular that is a soer subject is Michael, who he had looked up to as an idol until he vanished from Heaven. He holds a grudge gainst the winchesters and anyone who had connections with them, hear and far, fro their purpose in his fall. Family The angels. Other -He’s a practiced Demon killer. Anyone playing a demon must be extra careful to not bump into him, as he can identify demons very quickly (and demons are ultimately low on the scale compared to an angel). -He might be a comic relief character simply due to his complete old fashioned nature (the last time he interacted with humans was in the 1300’s, and still holds a “duel” mindset when it comes to solving disputes) and complete uselessness with modern technology. Anyone who introduces him to a computer better make a good impression, otherwise he might consider it a demon and hunt those too. -He’s not very friendly and especially nasty towards characters he feels are particularly sinful, and he has a good idea on the ones that genuinely are. -His angelic blade is specially designed to look like the kind used in the 1300’s. Characters should try not to laugh if he challenges them to a duel. -He has acquired his host by answering the prayer of a human businessman in his dreams. Nick Schaeffer Hunter ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ”I’m getting a little tired of being head-butted by overly horny ghosts that decided it was a good idea to bury their bones in a sealed coffin of concrete.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <Insert Applicable Image Here> Basics Height: 5’4 Age: 53 Gender: Male Body Type: Well kept up, yet feeling the years. Extended Personality His days in hunting have allowed him to meet a large variety of people and a possibly larger variety of ghosts, vampires, skinwalkers… you name it. He doesn’t get surprised by much and counts himself lucky for having lived as long as he has - about three friends of his remain that he had met in his early years. Many hunters would have died by now. He is somewhat paranoid and always checks his guests, but once they are confirmed and if they are friends, he has a softer, more fatherly side. Sometimes he ends up rambling, which tends to only stop when the other person brings him back on topic. He firmly considers the idea of “an innocent monster” a load of bullshit and says that even if one committed a good deed, they would have a considerably longer rap sheet of dark deeds to account for. He’s a good hunter with considerable knowledge, but isn’t close to being the fastest anymore and will likely find his end in not too long. Backstory Born into a hunting family, Shaeffer grew up in a paranoid household that only trusted those who had just been tested and were known as family friends. Everyone else could be taken as an enemy. Schaeffer started hunting with his father when he was only 16, learning the ropes and doing quite a bit of reading in the family library. When his father died, he managed to hunt down the werewolf who had killed him… but the events surrounding that showdown are unclear. Some say that the werewolf is still alive… After that, Schaeffer took a much more active role in hunting, forming a small group of associates, in which he tended to be the “lookup” guy (the one to read the books and figure out how to take <x> creature down). The group evolved into a small network, in which he met various hunters, such as Otis Yates. The original team had all died before Shaeffer was 45 years old. He now takes an interest in Fermont, as from what he had read out of his library… the tablets were a quite big dea, although rather vaguely described.. His goal is to retrieve them and then find a Prophet to translate them in order to “win” the previously thought unbeatable war against monsters. Family His father, Hendrick Schaeffer, died when his son was 20. He never knew his mother, Melissa Schaeffer. Other than that, he was an only child and didn’t have very much family. He did have an uncle, George Burnett, who was also a hunter until he died at 46 chasing down a Wraith. Other -He's not too strong in melee at this point, but knows quite a bit. -He won't be recalling word-for-word as he can't exactly load up a library into his ford and bring all thousand or so books along. Or at least, he's too lazy. -He's older than most hunters live to see. Basically, he's testing fate by living this long. -Interacting characters who he doesn't know to be a monster right off the bat will be subject to the "silver knife" and "holy water" tests. He carries both around. Naturally, he's reasonable about it... not going to go too well to test everyone in a hotel, but if you want to get in the room, he's going to damn well test you. Talthael Seraphim Angelic Faction Leader ---------------------------------------------- ”Heaven is in a state of war, and it needs a guiding hand if it’s ever going to go somewhere. Me, I wouldn’t mind being that hand.” ---------------------------------------------- Basics Height: 5’6 Age: Immortal (angelic) Gender: Genderless as he appears in his true form to all angels. Body Type: Extended Personality Slimy at best, a deceiver at worst, he likes to think he’s in charge - but in fact, his faction hasn’t been doing well lately, losing ground to Naomi and other influential leaders; being reduced to few angels remaining in his ranks. He tends to make things look like they are considerably better than they actually are. He thinks that the tablets will give him the ultimate upper hand in the battle for leadership. Backstory A senior angel just below the rank of Archangel, he has been an influential member of Heaven for many millennia - although he has lagged behind others, preferring to work in the background instead of being on the front line of affairs. His primary authority came in the form of Michael’s support and approval. As such, Talthael was almost entirely dependent on him, and lost ground in the mad rush for power in Heaven to Naomi and others, losing support of all Saraphim that had once been under his command. He now holds a legacy of being Michael’s pawn, five odd angels (albeit, one of them is actually fairly powerful when it comes to the run-of-the-mill angel), and a few loose artifacts that he picked up. It is now the main reason as to why he wants the Angel tablet - if he can get his hand on the most relevant tablet to heaven, his status will be boosted considerably. Family The Angels Other -He is the superior of Kaephypton. -His interactions will mostly be in heaven; there is a low chance of him doing things for himself. -He might send someone else in the form of a minor character to assist the cause. -He’s always been a slimy character, being distinctly independent from the archangels while appeasing them when possible. He’s not very popular with them as a result. -In terms of angelic faction leaders, he’s rather low on the scale. That said, he is a potent angel in his own right. This will consist of NPC's that are used to make particular interactions function that can be taken over by other players, killed, etc as they wish, and ones that I won't bother with a full CS because they were made for something specific (ie, a ghost created to give hunters a little something to do) that other players can't control. NPC's will be marked as such IC if I use them, so ya know what you can godmod. None at the moment.
533	12	3	578	130	Zerena closed the door of her car behind her and headed into a nearby coffee shop, her computer bag hanging on her shoulder. She had just arrived that afternoon and had yet to even find herself a room to stay. She had already been on her way when she heard that the job had been dealt with and decided just to head into town. Might as well get a decent night of sleep and sometime to look for another sighting. A bell twinkled above her head as she walked into the shop, signaling to the employees that someone had walked in. She assumed they didn't get too busy since she was positive that would drive them mad going off every two seconds. She walked up to the counter, "Just an Americano," She said as she started digging through her bag for spare change. "Sure thing," The barista said in a chipper tone, "Can I get your name?" "Melissa," Zerena said without hesitation. She hated giving out her real name to people... Not in her business, who knew who could be listening. She waiting until her drink was made and handed to her in a paper cup with a lid, Melissa scrawled across the side. She walked over to a table and sat down, opening her laptop and started to type. Fremont seemed to be a hotspot for demons... Looked like finding a job near by wasn't going to be hard... Now just to find a place to stay. Madeleine stood in front of a vanity, looking at her hair. She pursed her lips before she picked a small tube on lip stick off of the dresser and slowly dragged the ruby red stick over her lips. She rubbed them together before letting out a satisfying popping sound. She returned the lip stick to its place and slowly turned around, "Well, I had a grand time but I really should go," She said in a sultry voice to the two dead bodies in the bed. She had stumbled upon the pair at a bar and followed them. She had watched the man remove his ring before he began to hit on the young blonde at the bar. She grinned, "Thanks for the lipstick, Love... Great colour." Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she walked from the apartment, grabbing the keys on her way out. She closed the door softly behind her before locking it, the smell of rotting flesh would take sometime to over run the floor before someone went to check up on the dear Jane Doe. Sometimes, the worse pain you would cause a human was letting them stumble upon a dead body. It did things to people, it broke them and a few even snapped, needing to see that look again. Once outside, she tossed the keys into the gutter and carried on her merry way.	RAGUEL ARCHANGEL OF JUSTICE, FAIRNESS, VENGEANCE, AND HARMONY "I LAY TO REST THE WICKED" "ASSBUTT" BASICS CHARACTER FULL NAME: Raguel NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Reggie HEIGHT: 5' 9" BODY TYPE: Mesomorph, athletic, bottom heavy. AGE: Appears about 26 GENDER: None; goes by "she" PERSONALITY: Raguel is just as clueless as most of her angel brethren, but she finds humanity more fascinating than most. She's particularly interested in their need for pleasure and self satisfaction. She's ruthless and righteous, like any good angel, but she secretly has a mind of her own. She hasn't met her prophet yet but she deeply wants to. She almost wishes something bad would happen to him/her so that she could appear to save the day. Her main traits are basically summed up in her title. Justice and Vengeance: she tries her very hardest to make sure everyone gets what they deserve. Fairness and Harmony: she loves conflict, but not stupid conflict, so she strives to keep order. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: God SIBLINGS: All angels EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Pamela Vander (the prophet she guards) HISTORY (OPTIONAL): None yet, I develop characters through roleplay. EXTRA INFORMATION: N/A ABYZU CROSSROADS DEMON "BOY, THERE ISN'T ROOM IN YOUR PANTS." (picture is.. under construction) BASICS APPEARANCE: short, fire engine red hair, red eyes, dark skin. CHARACTER FULL NAME: Abyzu NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Abby HEIGHT: 5' 9" BODY TYPE: Ectomorph, average AGE: Appears about 32 GENDER: None; goes by "she" PERSONALITY: Abyzu is the best employee Crowley could ever ask for. She's sadistic and hateful, her deals are always sealed quickly and quietly, and she enjoys pain. So much pain. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: N/A EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: N/A HISTORY: Abby takes the souls of children. Her power comes from these souls. EXTRA INFORMATION: She has a thing for flirting. PAMELA VANDER PROPHET OF THE LORD "WAIT.. WHAT?" (picture is under construction) BASICS APPEARANCE: Portly, short, mousy, silver hair, one green eye, one yellow eye, crooked smile. CHARACTER FULL NAME: Pamela Vander NICK NAME OR ALIAS: None HEIGHT: 5' 6" BODY TYPE: Mesomorph, skinny, out of shape AGE: 14 GENDER: Female PERSONALITY: Pamela is always very confused. She doesn't do very well in school and she has a hard time concentrating on one thing at a time. She has a habit of refusing to do things she doesn't want to. She's a little lazy and kind of selfish, but her heart is in the right place. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: Daren Vander (he won't be mentioned) EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Raguel (the Archangel who guards her) HISTORY (OPTIONAL): EXTRA INFORMATION: Pamela secretly got a tattoo of a half moon with a wolf's paw for her brother.
534	12	4	2,649	479	The lights inside the gas station were dim, and it was eerily empty. There were two employees at the desk, one bumming, and the other hard at work restocking the cigarettes. There was only one customer, and that was a very intimidating looking gentleman, known as Otis Yates. The private investigator was simply filling up two cups of coffee and grabbing a bag of peanuts, passing through. "Will that be all?" Came the usual question from the cashier. "Yes, thank you." Was the concise response from Otis. He paid in cash and completed the transaction quickly, without taking his change. "Take care of yourselves, you hear?" He said, very seriously. The cashier gave a simple nod and the other employee just ignored him. He exited, walking at a leisurely pace, and heading towards a figure all too familiar to him. It was his old friend, Schaeffer. Once just a simple contact, until he learned the man's true purpose, so long ago, when he first became a hunter. "It's not a chai latte, or cappuccino, or any other bullshit. Just straight black, 99 cent coffee from the gas station." He held out a cup to Schaeffer. "Glad to have an ally on this shitty case." He welcomed himself to a spot on the bench, next Schaeffer and sipped away at his own cup of coffee. He breathed in the smell and took in the sight of the pretty girls, "Too many times have demons lured me in with women. I guess it is the most effective way." He mused.	Full Name: Otis Yates Nickname or Alias: Oats, Otis Atherton Height: 5'11" Body Type: Fit but aged Age: 35 Gender: Male Personality: He knows his job and his limits. That won't stop him from fighting. He's harty, but aging. He can kick asses every which way, but he's taken a lot more beatings lately and his hunting has taken it's toll on his body. They say hunters age faster than other human beings, and Otis is living proof of that. He's wise and experienced, respectable and professional. He has a good base of connections to hunters and other people useful for information. It's rare that he'll go into any situation half-cocked. Friends and Family: He has two brothers, and both have become hunters. Most of his friends are other hunters and his contacts around the country. He also has a cousin who is a hunter who simply goes by the name Moser. Parents: Jason and Catherine Yates Siblings: Arvin Yates (younger), Steiner Yates(youngest). Extended family: Moser (cousin). Important Others: A good hunter buddy of his is simply called Schaeffer. He has many others. History: He became a private investigator and from there it didn't take long before he became aware of the supernatural and finally became a hunter. As far as he knows, him and his brothers are first generation hunters. His cousin is also a first generation hunter. Extra Information: I'm sure I'll add some more stuff here.
535	12	5	1,568	52	After 5-10 minutes of sitting there and staring at his computer like it would just pop up with all the answers to all the questions and problems he was facing he gave out another sigh. Heavier this time. Pushing himself up out of the chair that he was in he grabbed his coat. Putting it on while slipping on his shoes. One thing that Ian could not break himself of was the smoking habit that he had. Which, for him, he thought was way better than the drinking habit that his father was in after his mother had passed away from a demon mishap. Ian's parents had been hunting partners way before they had gotten married and had him, only him. The only child. He might have had a sibling if it wasn't for what had happened all those years ago. It could be the reason that Ian's father was so hard on him about everything and trained him roughly to become a hunter. Now that he was out on his own, he didn't think that he was doing a very good job. Making the thought of him being a disappointment heavy on his mind and the reason that he was lighting up a cigarette when he walked outside into the crisp winter air.	IAN COSDEN HUNTER "Small tricks won't work on me... Sweetheart" "Dude!?! Really!?! Loosen up a little!!" Full name: Ian Cosden Alias: Jackson Wright Height: 5'11" Body type: Thin yet muscular Age: Just barely 22 Gender: Male MAYLA BETHELL SKINWALKER "Have you seen the world through the eyes of a dog??... No!! Then don't assume you know anything." Skinwalker form: Full name: Mayla Bethell Nickname: May Heigth: 4'11" Body type: Thin and a little lanky Age: 10 Gender: Female
536	12	6	1,617	689	Micheal and Tod had arrived about a week ago in this small town. Micheal was told by Alice that this is were he would find his Ingredient X. This was vital for his research to continue forward. He and Tom bought a house and have been watching the crowds to make sure the city is safe for hunting. This was Tod's idea, Micheal hates to wait around and has been brooding the entire week. While Tom leaves at 9 in the morning and does not come back until 10 at night, doing his "surveillance." When Tod announced that it was safe for them to begin Micheal was thrilled. As they left the house and drove into town Tod voiced his worries. "We should leave." Tod said while driving. "Now why would I do that?" Micheal said while playing with a pair of Chinese handcuffs. "I've paid all this money to get us her-Wait don't tell me your scared of all the things that go bump in the night in this little city." He said condescendingly. "All I'm saying is that if we are gonna stay, we need to be more careful. I don't need a remake of what happen last time." Tod said with a stern look and Micheal blushed hard. "It was an accident. I thought we were not going to bring it up again." Micheal said as memories flooded at what happened the last time he made a visit to a town. " I promise things should not get that bad again. Now were are we going?" He said with confidence while he still played with his toy. "We need to eat and I know you are just full of excitement so we will also explore as well." Tod looked at Micheal the entire time he said this then looked back at the road when he finished. The road in silence and continued their drive into the city. Once they parked Tod pointed to a nearby diner that had good food. Tod got out of the car and wait for Micheal to follow. When he looked back Micheal was holding his hands up that were still stuck in the handcuffs. Tod huffed and walked over and let him out of the back seat. The walked together as snow fell upon them. Micheal could feel all the different energies begin given off from the nearby monster. As the walked a human bumped into Micheal, he snarled at the man and scared him away with fear and a silent apology. Micheal hates humans because they lynched and burned his parents alive for what they were. There is very few that he can tolerate for long, and even then he has an itch to kill them. He sees most as source for research and that's how he uses them, as test subjects. He once held a dinner party and invited the most important humans he could find in the area. He had each of their drinks spiked with a different potion. They all died before the night was over. The news tabloids called it The Dinner Party From Hell. He only did this for fun and a little data to see how different ingredients affect humans. When they reached the diner Tod had to open the door again and Micheal walked in. Tod could smell the scent of a demon in the establishment. This put him on edge, he knew that there were a few in town but he had not expected to meet one so soon. They took a seat at a booth with a view of the street and awaited a waitress to take their orders. Micheal was still playing with his handcuffs to pass the time, but after they finished their food he would tell Tod it is time to begin their hunt.	Micheal Von Jence CHARACTER FULL NAME: Micheal Von Jence AGE, SPECIES: 459 years old, Fairy (Wicked Witch) NICK NAME OR ALIAS: MJ (The Witch Doctor) HEIGHT: 5'10 BODY TYPE: Toned, Slim AGE: Looks about 18 GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Micheal is a meticulous intellectual, the "scientist" of the fairy community. He is highly narcissistic and extremely flamboyant, tending to make lewd, disturbing comments about people he doesn't like. Micheal is quite sadistic, viewing others as little more than research material. He thinks poorly of humans, hoping someone will someday wipe them all out of existence. He thinks of himself as an actor, treating his battles like theatrical performances, especially when toying with his victims. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: N/A PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: Jon(Younger Brother), Anna(Older Sister) EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Another Witch (good) named Alice, the only other one he can tolerate. HISTORY: Micheal was born at the start of the slave trade in the 16th century. He grew up in luxury and endless help. Everyone in his family are witches and he was no exception. As a child he would bully human children with his gifts and play endless tricks on his siblings. When he got older he learned to harness his gifts and became a fully fledged witch. He decided to live the life of a scientist and experiment on what ever he can. This is were his dark nature grew from. The only one who has ever seen the "good" side of him is his friend Alice. In his 300s he tamed an Arachne named Tod and they have been companions ever since. EXTRA INFORMATION: His 100 year old pet snake. Tom James CHARACTER FULL NAME: Tom James AGE, SPECIES: 200 years old, Arachne NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Tommy (The Golden One) HEIGHT: 6'2 BODY TYPE: Muscular, Toned, Rugged AGE: Looks about early 30s GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Tom is an honest man. He has never been one to shy from the truth, and is always FRIENDS AND FAMILY: Micheal (his owner) PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: N/A EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: His maker Jeana. HISTORY: Tom was turned when he was 30. He was at his birthday party and Jeana turned him as a "gift". He has been miserable ever since. Having to fed on humanity on a weekly basis and not having any support. At one point he even tired to become a wanderer. Going from place to place. Trying not to feed but failing miserably. He never truly let go of his human nature until he went south. Down in the south he met Micheal. At first he dismissed him as some rude punk but he never wold have thought he was a 200 year old fairy. He began to hang around Micheal even more and earned the name pest. Then one day he saved his life and Micheal rewarded him by buying him. He told Tom that in exchange for his life he would make sure he could be himself and never be lonely, and they have been together ever since. EXTRA INFORMATION: His makers spider type was, Black Widow, so he inherited the Gold Orb Weaver Genes. His maker Jeana. She can also be used an NPC.
537	12	7	1,568	52	Zerena closed her laptop and stuffed it back into her bag. There was a motel not too far from the coffee shop. Grabbing her coffee, she pulled her bag onto her shoulder and headed out. The drive was quick and the motel wasn't hard to find thanks to the large 'VACANCY' sign that was nearly blinding. Parking as close to the main building she could, she hopped out and headed into the office. It was a seedy little place, a place that girl her age would usually be told to keep away from. However, hunting didn't really pay all too well leaving her with enough money for gas and food... A place to sleep beyond the back seat of her car really was a luxury. Another good thing about these places was they let her pay in cash. She only paid for the night, who knew where she would be by tomorrow and took the key from the man in the booth before she went back out into the night. She made a pit stop at her car, gathering a small duffel bag and her laptop bag, before she headed to her room. There was a guy smoking outside of his room and Zerena quickly looked him over before she passed him, not saying a word. Instead, she walked next door to the door of her own room and tried to get inside as quickly as possible.	IAN COSDEN HUNTER "Small tricks won't work on me... Sweetheart" "Dude!?! Really!?! Loosen up a little!!" Full name: Ian Cosden Alias: Jackson Wright Height: 5'11" Body type: Thin yet muscular Age: Just barely 22 Gender: Male MAYLA BETHELL SKINWALKER "Have you seen the world through the eyes of a dog??... No!! Then don't assume you know anything." Skinwalker form: Full name: Mayla Bethell Nickname: May Heigth: 4'11" Body type: Thin and a little lanky Age: 10 Gender: Female
538	12	8	2,519	389	-	.
539	12	9	627	375	You know what, I'll go all in this time. It was a normal day at the casino, there was a mild amount of people about, the alcohol was flowing and the women were milling around. And the hand was almost always in his favor. At least, it was a normal day for Atlas. Playing poker was one of his favorite things to do, he had one hell of a poker face, and could almost always tell when people were bluffing. It almost wasn't fair. But what really wasn't fair is when you went all in and the only other person who still had money went all in too. And he seemed to have a better hand. But, Atlas never lost a game of poker. Ever. Taking another shot of scotch, downing it, he flipped over his cards to show the table. A 2 and a 7, matching with nothing. His opponent had a pair of queens. But, it seemed like nobody could remember that. What they did remember, however, what that he had a 3 of a kind of kings. And so Atlas won the pot, and collected his money that he earned for himself. It's not like he really needed it, it was just nice to gamble and get a set of winnings. However, the house didn't like this. They always assumed he was cheating and fixed the cards somehow, payed off the dealer. But Atlas would never do that. After cashing out his earnings, it seemed as if Atlas disappeared into thin air. Nobody could find him, it's like he vanished. Or he had turned invisible and walked out. What was the nice part was he could use a combination of shape shifting and biokinesis to make him look different every time he came. His normal appearance, Atlas Cage, was never seen at the bar or casino. He had to keep an image after all. Humans took morales worse than Angels sometimes, it was a little frightening what public media did to people. Looking up, a strange flash of light, fairly close to Atlas, appeared in the sky. "Oh don't tell me they sent another angel asshole here to show me the error of my ways... It never gets anybody far." he mutters to himself, shoving his hands in his jean pockets and heading to where the source came from. Atlas figured sooner or later he would have to meet him, and it'd be preferable when no paparazzi or anything was stalking Atlas. After a bit of scanning, he found a lone man walking down the sidewalk, seeming to look around in sort of wondering amusement, like he had never seen a sidewalk before. He could obviously tell it was an angel but... Never had he met one that appeared this stupid. "Hey buddy, you lost?" Atlas asked, going up to his right side and walking along with him.	CHARACTER NAME: Atlas, Arch Angel of Balance, Order, and Chaos AGE, SPECIES: Thousands of years, Arch Angel "Bring order and balance to the world, no matter the cost." BASICS CHARACTER FULL NAME: Atlas Cage NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Atlas HEIGHT: 6'3 BODY TYPE: Muscular, toned and fit AGE: Looks to be about 23 GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Has good morales but will go about his duties as he sees fit. It doesn't matter if he has to kill in order to get a job accomplished, the divine order is above all. Other than this he is usually a bit of a flirt, sarcastic, know-it-all, kind of an asshole to most, but does have a sweet and caring side to him (Although rarely anybody gets there) FRIENDS AND FAMILY: N/A PARENTS: God SIBLINGS: All other Angels EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: N/A HISTORY: Atlas is a powerful archangel who is sort of the outcast of the bunch. He resides most of his time on earth, holding up justice and the order there and isn't too heavenly sometimes. Always been a loner, he spends his time flirting with woman, drinking, gambling, just having fun and being reckless through the body he attained of a wealthy playboy millionaire who was heavily religious and wanted nothing more than a very powerful Arch Angel to embody him. For this most of the other angels do not take a liking to Atlas, but he is one of the most powerful and does uphold their morales and help fight in their name better than most, so they tolerate him. EXTRA INFORMATION: Has the abilities of an Arch Angel.
540	12	10	179	5,683	Schaeffer gave a friendly nod to Yates. It had been a little while, and he wasn’t surprised as to the lure to this particular hotspot. There weren’t many hunters that quite matched him; it seemed that there was a rising population of pretty boy hunters. Nonetheless, precautions had to be taken - there were quite a few monsters that would love nothing more than to take the form of an associate he had been seen with a few times. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said in his usual form of greeting while passing a small silver blade and a spare vial of water from his coat pocket over to him. He had three more vials; he would have to get more as his apartment was all out. ”Hey buddy, you lost?” Kaephypton turned slightly to look at the figure behind him, walking on the narrower path. “Lost? No… no… my path is clear.” he gestured to the empty road, although he had to admit he wasn’t sure what he would do at the end of it. He continued walking in long strides, thinking that the man behind him was far from human… but far from demon either. Angel? Could be. As he walked down an intersection, he heard a speeding car coming his direction. He turned and looked at the monstrous thing with two large yellow eyes and a row of grill teeth, fully activated. He drew his long angel blade and yelled, “Face me, foul demon!” as it came speeding at him, swerving a bit with the drunk driver barely realizing there was anyone in froont of him.	Redmond Drayer Surviving Leviathan ---------------------------------------------- ”Dick Roman fit his name in more ways than one. Now that he’s gone, I can do things the right way...” ---------------------------------------------- Basics Height: 5’6 Age: Immortal (first creation of God, so… fits the age rather well) Gender: Takes the form of a male. Body Type: Extended Personality Not the strongest of Leviathans, Redmond has always disagreed with Roman’s policy of senseless or even systematic assimilation of all into a single, controllable host. Redmond prefers chaos and lack of unity; something which makes it easier for him to act without those knowing. Unfortunately for him, he was one of the last of his kind to have been created and therefore one of the youngest; that leaves him at a disadvantage compared to others. However, with his old hated boss gone, he has explored new possibilities - including the expansion of his own inherent powers to include more… celestial representations. Not that this has worked yet, but he’s not going to give up. It’s rather difficult to stop him, so that has only helped to boost his confidence. He is more sadistic than other Leviathan‘s and may attempt to deliver beings expressing their powers in overly obvious ways (read: OP players) an “entertaining” first class ticket to his main course dinner plate. That said, he’s not stupid; he can cover his tracks well from the average hunter and can fool other beings that may or may not even know what he is. Backstory One of the last Leviathans to be created, he was more of a grunt power wise for the strongest of his kind, known as Dick Roman most recently. However, he always secretly despised how the others adhered to a policy of combining “Illuminati” style domination of others with dull feeding. Redmond liked chaos and picking his victims that had the most chance of realizing just where the threat would be coming from. Purgatory was his favorite place. It had all the chaos he could want; he was top of the food chain and enjoyed himself even as the others hated it. That made him the opposite of the other Leviathans when taken out of Purgatory by Castiel - he half-heartedly took up the side task of hunting and eating Castiel even as he was sent to take out others who were providing a fuss, such as the hunter Frank. Alas, he never met up with his goal, and tended to be elsewhere when the real action was happening. It did, however, save him from being one of those sucked to Purgatory by the death of Roman; he was far out of range and was one of the few to be left wandering the world. When he heard of Roman’s death, he hadn’t been so happy since he first discovered the nature of Purgatory. he went up in Alaska for a while, killing hunters and those who strayed off the trail, before picking up on the news of the “hot spot”, as the contacts who brought it to his attention called it. It was at that point that he decided to head to Fremont, the hotspot that had been called by his contacts “the big one” (at least, before he cleaned up loose ends and ate the said contacts…) Family If you’re Leviathan, you’re his brother (or sister?). Other -This character will be mostly killing NPC’s, but if you want to meet up with him in the course of roleplay to have the experience of fighting (and quite possibly dying to) a Leviathan, feel free. -If characters step way too out of line power wise or blatantly kill other player’s characters without any sort of advance warning or discussion, they might wake up (or turn around) to find a less than attractive mouth coming at them… -All normal ways to disable a Leviathan apply, and are a little more effective than on others if anything. At this point, nobody can make him “bib” because nobody has the authority. -The one known way to kill one isn’t something that’s going to happen in 5 posts. You can do it, just go with a little advance warning and make the path to death “logical” (as the supernatural universe can be). -To anyone who doesn’t know what he is, he is a monster (if they identify him as the killer). Keep in mind he can shapeshift to the form of those he touches, so one can lose the path without much difficulty (although I won’t make it stupidly impossible to track him, as that would just be boring roleplay). -his body looks like that of one of his particular favorite victims... -Yes, he can eat an Archangel. The above applies, though, and no Archangel will be eaten unless the GM steps in as God and destines my guy to mysteriously locate them to serve as a first course meal. Kaephypton Angelic Agent ---------------------------------------------- ”Without discipline, even the Angels can fall. Castiel taught us that.” ---------------------------------------------- (as of current host) Basics Height: 5’3 Age: Immortal (Among the first beings created by god, although younger than all Archangels) Gender: Identifies as male via his host. Body Type: Relatively fit, nothing special in that regard. Extended Personality The classic agent of heaven. He doesn’t understand just about any human convention to ever be created, having spent his time in heaven as more of a “poster child” and someone on hold, usually sent to 1v1 demons. He’s scornful of anyone who doesn’t uphold the highest of angelic ideals and feels dirty after a while of interacting with humans. He stands out like a sore thumb and tends to only identify demons and pursue them, or identify a tablet if he ever comes across one. His discipline is known across heaven, and to demons as well. Backstory <insert generic Angel life story here> The only thing to his existence that makes him stand out is his practice killing demons that heaven sends him to take out. He was sent to the mortal realm to find tablets by his superior, Talthael, who serves a small network of angels following the split in the Host’s leadership across various factions. He is, as of now, deemed “incorruptible” - the whole reason why he was sent in the first place. His life story was rather generic simply because he did everything he was supposed to, and not much more. The one thing in particular that is a soer subject is Michael, who he had looked up to as an idol until he vanished from Heaven. He holds a grudge gainst the winchesters and anyone who had connections with them, hear and far, fro their purpose in his fall. Family The angels. Other -He’s a practiced Demon killer. Anyone playing a demon must be extra careful to not bump into him, as he can identify demons very quickly (and demons are ultimately low on the scale compared to an angel). -He might be a comic relief character simply due to his complete old fashioned nature (the last time he interacted with humans was in the 1300’s, and still holds a “duel” mindset when it comes to solving disputes) and complete uselessness with modern technology. Anyone who introduces him to a computer better make a good impression, otherwise he might consider it a demon and hunt those too. -He’s not very friendly and especially nasty towards characters he feels are particularly sinful, and he has a good idea on the ones that genuinely are. -His angelic blade is specially designed to look like the kind used in the 1300’s. Characters should try not to laugh if he challenges them to a duel. -He has acquired his host by answering the prayer of a human businessman in his dreams. Nick Schaeffer Hunter ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ”I’m getting a little tired of being head-butted by overly horny ghosts that decided it was a good idea to bury their bones in a sealed coffin of concrete.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <Insert Applicable Image Here> Basics Height: 5’4 Age: 53 Gender: Male Body Type: Well kept up, yet feeling the years. Extended Personality His days in hunting have allowed him to meet a large variety of people and a possibly larger variety of ghosts, vampires, skinwalkers… you name it. He doesn’t get surprised by much and counts himself lucky for having lived as long as he has - about three friends of his remain that he had met in his early years. Many hunters would have died by now. He is somewhat paranoid and always checks his guests, but once they are confirmed and if they are friends, he has a softer, more fatherly side. Sometimes he ends up rambling, which tends to only stop when the other person brings him back on topic. He firmly considers the idea of “an innocent monster” a load of bullshit and says that even if one committed a good deed, they would have a considerably longer rap sheet of dark deeds to account for. He’s a good hunter with considerable knowledge, but isn’t close to being the fastest anymore and will likely find his end in not too long. Backstory Born into a hunting family, Shaeffer grew up in a paranoid household that only trusted those who had just been tested and were known as family friends. Everyone else could be taken as an enemy. Schaeffer started hunting with his father when he was only 16, learning the ropes and doing quite a bit of reading in the family library. When his father died, he managed to hunt down the werewolf who had killed him… but the events surrounding that showdown are unclear. Some say that the werewolf is still alive… After that, Schaeffer took a much more active role in hunting, forming a small group of associates, in which he tended to be the “lookup” guy (the one to read the books and figure out how to take <x> creature down). The group evolved into a small network, in which he met various hunters, such as Otis Yates. The original team had all died before Shaeffer was 45 years old. He now takes an interest in Fermont, as from what he had read out of his library… the tablets were a quite big dea, although rather vaguely described.. His goal is to retrieve them and then find a Prophet to translate them in order to “win” the previously thought unbeatable war against monsters. Family His father, Hendrick Schaeffer, died when his son was 20. He never knew his mother, Melissa Schaeffer. Other than that, he was an only child and didn’t have very much family. He did have an uncle, George Burnett, who was also a hunter until he died at 46 chasing down a Wraith. Other -He's not too strong in melee at this point, but knows quite a bit. -He won't be recalling word-for-word as he can't exactly load up a library into his ford and bring all thousand or so books along. Or at least, he's too lazy. -He's older than most hunters live to see. Basically, he's testing fate by living this long. -Interacting characters who he doesn't know to be a monster right off the bat will be subject to the "silver knife" and "holy water" tests. He carries both around. Naturally, he's reasonable about it... not going to go too well to test everyone in a hotel, but if you want to get in the room, he's going to damn well test you. Talthael Seraphim Angelic Faction Leader ---------------------------------------------- ”Heaven is in a state of war, and it needs a guiding hand if it’s ever going to go somewhere. Me, I wouldn’t mind being that hand.” ---------------------------------------------- Basics Height: 5’6 Age: Immortal (angelic) Gender: Genderless as he appears in his true form to all angels. Body Type: Extended Personality Slimy at best, a deceiver at worst, he likes to think he’s in charge - but in fact, his faction hasn’t been doing well lately, losing ground to Naomi and other influential leaders; being reduced to few angels remaining in his ranks. He tends to make things look like they are considerably better than they actually are. He thinks that the tablets will give him the ultimate upper hand in the battle for leadership. Backstory A senior angel just below the rank of Archangel, he has been an influential member of Heaven for many millennia - although he has lagged behind others, preferring to work in the background instead of being on the front line of affairs. His primary authority came in the form of Michael’s support and approval. As such, Talthael was almost entirely dependent on him, and lost ground in the mad rush for power in Heaven to Naomi and others, losing support of all Saraphim that had once been under his command. He now holds a legacy of being Michael’s pawn, five odd angels (albeit, one of them is actually fairly powerful when it comes to the run-of-the-mill angel), and a few loose artifacts that he picked up. It is now the main reason as to why he wants the Angel tablet - if he can get his hand on the most relevant tablet to heaven, his status will be boosted considerably. Family The Angels Other -He is the superior of Kaephypton. -His interactions will mostly be in heaven; there is a low chance of him doing things for himself. -He might send someone else in the form of a minor character to assist the cause. -He’s always been a slimy character, being distinctly independent from the archangels while appeasing them when possible. He’s not very popular with them as a result. -In terms of angelic faction leaders, he’s rather low on the scale. That said, he is a potent angel in his own right. This will consist of NPC's that are used to make particular interactions function that can be taken over by other players, killed, etc as they wish, and ones that I won't bother with a full CS because they were made for something specific (ie, a ghost created to give hunters a little something to do) that other players can't control. NPC's will be marked as such IC if I use them, so ya know what you can godmod. None at the moment.
541	12	11	1,804	386	When Paimon first felt the tug of a summoning, he already guessed what was about to come: another amateur warlock and/or witch, attempting to wheedle him into a contract. The more experienced ones have already learnt that he’d much rather pulverise their spines than agree to a deal. So Paimon gave in to the pull, knowing he couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to, and he was in the mood for blood. So when he landed, he, admittedly, had been expecting the devil’s trap waiting for him. He hadn’t, though, been expecting a bucketful of holy water to the face. A searing pain instantly bloomed throughout Paimon’s skin and flesh as the holy water soaked through his clothes, but he only let out a muted hiss. He was, after all, no stranger to this process. People would summon him, entrap him in a circle of runes, splash holy water on him, or maybe if it's a fun night, carve Enochian sigils into every inch of his flesh in an attempt to torture him into submission. Unfortunately for them, however, it almost never worked. Paimon had been walking the earth since god knows when, so really, it was a piss-poor idea to fuck with him. Not that it got them down, though -- they just kept on trying. Paimon wasn't sure why, but whatever floats their boat, right? Shaking off the remainder of the holy water, Paimon looked down at himself, the burns were already starting to heal. He snapped his head back up to look at the warlock that summoned him right in the eyes, Paimon’s own flashing from pale blue to a bottomless pool of black. The warlock flinched, although the demon could tell he was trying to hide it. The least he could do was give him an ‘A’ for effort. "So, what can I do you for, O' Great and Powerful wizard?" Paimon drawled mockingly, his entire frame assuming that characteristic, sardonic tilt. Not that Paimon’s current form was all that intimidating. In fact, it was quite the opposite. ‘Isaiah Corcoran’ was short and cute, with a toothy grin and the kind of boyish charm that livened up the clothes he bought for him with stolen money. Paimon made his name up, because he doesn’t care what his real name was, and neither does he. It had been two years ago when Paimon found him in a hospital, catatonic and comatose. They have an agreement of sorts, the demon uses his empty body, and in return, he does not waste away in a hospital bed. ...Not that he’d signed any official papers, it’s been years and the demon has yet to find any traces of thoughts in that pretty skull of his. The boy was gone, so Paimon sincerely doubted that he’d mind if he helped himself to his leftovers. “Please tell me you’re gonna sacrifice a chicken. I’ve always found that part so quaint.” Paimon’s voice lilted with amusement, and a sharp bark of laughter escaped from him when the warlock only scowled and turned away to prepare another batch of holy water. Inky, black eyes scanned the devil’s trap for any runes that were missing or out of place, before finally, he spotted something. A blank piece of flooring where an intricate symbol should’ve been. Paimon could barely contain himself, at that. Had humans always been this incompetent? It took every last ounce of willpower he had to not dart over and snap the warlock’s neck. No, he had to make this last, to make an example out of him. Sure, he had better things to do, but Paimon had never been one to turn down such a rare opportunity. Whilst the warlock’s back was turned, he stepped out of the faulty trap, apparated behind him, and waited for his victim to turn back around. A look of pure horror (which Paimon found absolutely delightful) crossed the warlock’s face when as he realised what had transpired. Perhaps a hint of regret, as well? Regret at having gotten out of bed this morning, regret at having attempted to control a demon that was thousands of years old - etcetera, etcetera. It was all the same to Paimon, really, but that split second where the guy looked like he’d just pissed himself? Priceless. And as Paimon’s would-be victim would soon realise… He was well and truly fucked. By the time Paimon was finished, the warlock was hardly recognisable. Strips of skin hung from his torso and face, the exposed flesh already festering with the beginnings of gangrene. The concrete floor was stained brick red with blood, peppered with shards of bone, and a few yards away, were a set of clumsily amputated hands and feet. The demon didn’t have enough time to do a proper job with the skinning, but he supposed it would suffice. Most humans were squeamish enough that the mere sight of bloody, dribbling organs would cause an upchuck of their lunch, and possibly even a lifetime’s worth of nightmares. Just as Paimon was about to leave, however, his cellphone rang. A useful invention, if he did say so himself. Now, he longer had to go through all the trouble of slitting a person’s throat, draining their blood into a chalice, just to contact his demonic brethren. Sliding a finger across the screen, Paimon then held the phone up to his ear. ...Well, his meatsuit’s ear, if you want to get all technical about it, but that was besides the point. “Hello?” Paimon very quickly realised just who he was speaking to. After all, that nickname wasn’t something he heard very often. Not many individuals felt comfortable enough to assign him such a ridiculous, childish moniker. “But Taco Bell’s fucking amazing. Have you seen the shit they come up with? The Cheesarito? Double-grilled quesadillas? Oh, and get this - Waffle. Tacos. Tell me that doesn’t sound incredible.” Paimon’s earnest was genuine, and he was sure no one would bother them there. Shitty fast-food chains were always filled to the brim with society’s worst, anyway. What difference would a demon or two make? “Come on, Dom. Don’t be an asshole, I think better with a full stomach.”	Madeleine de Lafontaine It's Hard To Get To Heaven, When You're Born Hell Bound. M'Lady / Maddie / Lafontaine Demon Madeleine stands at 5'4 with a slender hourglass figure, appearing to be in her mid twenties. 392 Female Madeleine is a seductress at heart. She enjoys toying with those she tends to kill and has a special hatred for human men after she died at the hands of her husband and saved her vessel from the same fate. Madeleine was beaten to death by her husband after committing adultery when she was 22 years old and was dragged into the pits of hell for her sins. Her anger allowed for her to quickly be stripped from her humanity and she wanted nothing more than revenge on the man who had killed. However, when her demonic visage finally revealed itself, her bastard husband was already dead. This was when she came upon a young maiden who was about to be hung. As she screamed for mercy from the men around her, begging her husband to stop his madness. Madeleine realized how she might gain her revenge and possessed her. The girl's pleas fell into quiet whimpering as the stool she stood upon was toss from under her feet and the rope tightened around her next as she fell. She did not die. Instead, she held eyes with the man who stood in front of her, a cruel smile playing on her lips. Reaching above her, Madeleine grabbed hold of the rope and with a large yank, the branch she was hanging from snapped. After brushing herself off, Madeleine mascaraed the men who had gathered to watch the woman's death before she destroyed the town. The demon has lived her life like this since. She bares a scar from the rope as a reminder of the cruelty of human men.
542	12	12	578	130	With the ding of the door's bell, Abyzu grinned to herself. She motioned for the red-headed waitress to approach her, which she did rather reluctantly, and ordered, "Bring the two men who just walked in milkshakes. On the house." The young woman nodded fervently and scurried off, glancing over her shoulder nervously. Abby leaned to the man next to her and snorted at the paper he was reading. It was a surprise she hadn't run into any hunters yet, especially with all the activity going on. Then again, not all hunters were human. The thought made her smirk evilly.	RAGUEL ARCHANGEL OF JUSTICE, FAIRNESS, VENGEANCE, AND HARMONY "I LAY TO REST THE WICKED" "ASSBUTT" BASICS CHARACTER FULL NAME: Raguel NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Reggie HEIGHT: 5' 9" BODY TYPE: Mesomorph, athletic, bottom heavy. AGE: Appears about 26 GENDER: None; goes by "she" PERSONALITY: Raguel is just as clueless as most of her angel brethren, but she finds humanity more fascinating than most. She's particularly interested in their need for pleasure and self satisfaction. She's ruthless and righteous, like any good angel, but she secretly has a mind of her own. She hasn't met her prophet yet but she deeply wants to. She almost wishes something bad would happen to him/her so that she could appear to save the day. Her main traits are basically summed up in her title. Justice and Vengeance: she tries her very hardest to make sure everyone gets what they deserve. Fairness and Harmony: she loves conflict, but not stupid conflict, so she strives to keep order. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: God SIBLINGS: All angels EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Pamela Vander (the prophet she guards) HISTORY (OPTIONAL): None yet, I develop characters through roleplay. EXTRA INFORMATION: N/A ABYZU CROSSROADS DEMON "BOY, THERE ISN'T ROOM IN YOUR PANTS." (picture is.. under construction) BASICS APPEARANCE: short, fire engine red hair, red eyes, dark skin. CHARACTER FULL NAME: Abyzu NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Abby HEIGHT: 5' 9" BODY TYPE: Ectomorph, average AGE: Appears about 32 GENDER: None; goes by "she" PERSONALITY: Abyzu is the best employee Crowley could ever ask for. She's sadistic and hateful, her deals are always sealed quickly and quietly, and she enjoys pain. So much pain. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: N/A EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: N/A HISTORY: Abby takes the souls of children. Her power comes from these souls. EXTRA INFORMATION: She has a thing for flirting. PAMELA VANDER PROPHET OF THE LORD "WAIT.. WHAT?" (picture is under construction) BASICS APPEARANCE: Portly, short, mousy, silver hair, one green eye, one yellow eye, crooked smile. CHARACTER FULL NAME: Pamela Vander NICK NAME OR ALIAS: None HEIGHT: 5' 6" BODY TYPE: Mesomorph, skinny, out of shape AGE: 14 GENDER: Female PERSONALITY: Pamela is always very confused. She doesn't do very well in school and she has a hard time concentrating on one thing at a time. She has a habit of refusing to do things she doesn't want to. She's a little lazy and kind of selfish, but her heart is in the right place. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: Daren Vander (he won't be mentioned) EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Raguel (the Archangel who guards her) HISTORY (OPTIONAL): EXTRA INFORMATION: Pamela secretly got a tattoo of a half moon with a wolf's paw for her brother.
543	12	13	2,649	479	Ahhhh, fuck. Forgot my manners. Otis set the cup of coffee down and took the blade and water from his hand. He took the silver blade and cut the back of his wrist. A small amount of blood began to pour from his wrist, and there was no unnatural sign of pain. He took the vial and poured it on the wound, it causing no unnatural effect, and simply washing away the blood. "Now your turn." He cleaned the blade up with a small cloth he had withdrawn from his pocket, and passed it to his friend. Then he withdrew a vial of holy water of his own and handed that to him. "I do still have an antipossession tattoo you know. I hope you've invested in one." He withdrew a mirror from his pocket and took a quick look at the reflection of himself and then his friend. "That should take care of the introductions. Everything seems to be in order." The older hunters took more lessons from the generation that came before them. This recent generation was viewed much lesser than the other generations. Too many pricks who thought too highly of themselves and wouldn't except help from other hunters, thinking they had to be loners, at least that was Otis Yates Opinion. The older ones had such a wide ring of connections, and they relied as heavily on it as they did their weapons, so they felt stronger. You would have a tough time finding any loners among the older hunters. "Talked to any of your connections down here?"	Full Name: Otis Yates Nickname or Alias: Oats, Otis Atherton Height: 5'11" Body Type: Fit but aged Age: 35 Gender: Male Personality: He knows his job and his limits. That won't stop him from fighting. He's harty, but aging. He can kick asses every which way, but he's taken a lot more beatings lately and his hunting has taken it's toll on his body. They say hunters age faster than other human beings, and Otis is living proof of that. He's wise and experienced, respectable and professional. He has a good base of connections to hunters and other people useful for information. It's rare that he'll go into any situation half-cocked. Friends and Family: He has two brothers, and both have become hunters. Most of his friends are other hunters and his contacts around the country. He also has a cousin who is a hunter who simply goes by the name Moser. Parents: Jason and Catherine Yates Siblings: Arvin Yates (younger), Steiner Yates(youngest). Extended family: Moser (cousin). Important Others: A good hunter buddy of his is simply called Schaeffer. He has many others. History: He became a private investigator and from there it didn't take long before he became aware of the supernatural and finally became a hunter. As far as he knows, him and his brothers are first generation hunters. His cousin is also a first generation hunter. Extra Information: I'm sure I'll add some more stuff here.
544	12	14	627	375	Path is clear? What a nut case... He was trying to wrap his head around what this delusional angel man was talking about as Atlas watched him walk into the middle of an intersection. Did he not know how intersections worked? As he started walking towards him, he saw a car coming by, as if he didn't even see the man. But what was worse is that the angel decided to pull out an angel blade and screaming at the car is if it was a demon, ready to strike it down. "You seriously are one dumb son of a bitch..." Just as the car was about to hit him, Atlas disappeared in a blur of speed and so did the angel moments later, and the car passed by like normal. Atlas ended up on the sidewalk, the angel over his shoulder as he set him down on his feet. There were some perks to having supernatural speed. "Those are demons, those are called cars, humans use them as transportation. If you got out of the god damn road, where the cars are, you wouldn't be in danger of getting hit by one!" Atlas sighed, reaching into his pocket and lighting a cigarette. Where did they get these guys?	CHARACTER NAME: Atlas, Arch Angel of Balance, Order, and Chaos AGE, SPECIES: Thousands of years, Arch Angel "Bring order and balance to the world, no matter the cost." BASICS CHARACTER FULL NAME: Atlas Cage NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Atlas HEIGHT: 6'3 BODY TYPE: Muscular, toned and fit AGE: Looks to be about 23 GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Has good morales but will go about his duties as he sees fit. It doesn't matter if he has to kill in order to get a job accomplished, the divine order is above all. Other than this he is usually a bit of a flirt, sarcastic, know-it-all, kind of an asshole to most, but does have a sweet and caring side to him (Although rarely anybody gets there) FRIENDS AND FAMILY: N/A PARENTS: God SIBLINGS: All other Angels EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: N/A HISTORY: Atlas is a powerful archangel who is sort of the outcast of the bunch. He resides most of his time on earth, holding up justice and the order there and isn't too heavenly sometimes. Always been a loner, he spends his time flirting with woman, drinking, gambling, just having fun and being reckless through the body he attained of a wealthy playboy millionaire who was heavily religious and wanted nothing more than a very powerful Arch Angel to embody him. For this most of the other angels do not take a liking to Atlas, but he is one of the most powerful and does uphold their morales and help fight in their name better than most, so they tolerate him. EXTRA INFORMATION: Has the abilities of an Arch Angel.
545	12	15	1,617	689	While Tod and Micheal waited for a waitress to take their orders, red head approached the table with two milkshakes. "Th-these are one the house." The young girl said nervously. "Who are they from." Tod asked with narrow eyes. "The woman over there." She pointed at the woman at the counter. Tod immediately noticed the red eyed woman at the counter was a demon. He was going o tell the waitress to take them back with respects, but looked over at Micheal and he already had half the thing down. Tod stared at him with worry. "Why would you drink that. You don't know what the demon did to it." Tod whisper-yelled at Micheal. "Oh please if she wanted to kill me or you she would have tried by now." Micheal said. "You gonna drink yours, I like chocolate better" He said while pointing his pinky finger at the glass.,"And you, I need food. Bring me two cheese burgers and another milkshake. For my friend well, he will probably eat you." Micheal said the last few words while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, and the girl blushed while not understand the underline meaning to his words. "Tell her I said thank you" Tod said to the waitress "And I'll take a coffee, black. The waitress nodded and left with their orders, and Tod looked at the woman. He was already on edge and didn't need any problems on their first outing. Micheal had already drank the second milkshake and followed Tod's gaze. He saw the woman and she was definitely a demon. Micheal hated Tod's caution so he got up and went to were she was sitting and looked at her beautiful red eyes. "Hello, I just wanted to thank you for the drinks, and would like you to eat with me and my companion." He said to her with a grin. "I would shake but as you can see I'm cuffed at the moment."	Micheal Von Jence CHARACTER FULL NAME: Micheal Von Jence AGE, SPECIES: 459 years old, Fairy (Wicked Witch) NICK NAME OR ALIAS: MJ (The Witch Doctor) HEIGHT: 5'10 BODY TYPE: Toned, Slim AGE: Looks about 18 GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Micheal is a meticulous intellectual, the "scientist" of the fairy community. He is highly narcissistic and extremely flamboyant, tending to make lewd, disturbing comments about people he doesn't like. Micheal is quite sadistic, viewing others as little more than research material. He thinks poorly of humans, hoping someone will someday wipe them all out of existence. He thinks of himself as an actor, treating his battles like theatrical performances, especially when toying with his victims. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: N/A PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: Jon(Younger Brother), Anna(Older Sister) EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Another Witch (good) named Alice, the only other one he can tolerate. HISTORY: Micheal was born at the start of the slave trade in the 16th century. He grew up in luxury and endless help. Everyone in his family are witches and he was no exception. As a child he would bully human children with his gifts and play endless tricks on his siblings. When he got older he learned to harness his gifts and became a fully fledged witch. He decided to live the life of a scientist and experiment on what ever he can. This is were his dark nature grew from. The only one who has ever seen the "good" side of him is his friend Alice. In his 300s he tamed an Arachne named Tod and they have been companions ever since. EXTRA INFORMATION: His 100 year old pet snake. Tom James CHARACTER FULL NAME: Tom James AGE, SPECIES: 200 years old, Arachne NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Tommy (The Golden One) HEIGHT: 6'2 BODY TYPE: Muscular, Toned, Rugged AGE: Looks about early 30s GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Tom is an honest man. He has never been one to shy from the truth, and is always FRIENDS AND FAMILY: Micheal (his owner) PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: N/A EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: His maker Jeana. HISTORY: Tom was turned when he was 30. He was at his birthday party and Jeana turned him as a "gift". He has been miserable ever since. Having to fed on humanity on a weekly basis and not having any support. At one point he even tired to become a wanderer. Going from place to place. Trying not to feed but failing miserably. He never truly let go of his human nature until he went south. Down in the south he met Micheal. At first he dismissed him as some rude punk but he never wold have thought he was a 200 year old fairy. He began to hang around Micheal even more and earned the name pest. Then one day he saved his life and Micheal rewarded him by buying him. He told Tom that in exchange for his life he would make sure he could be himself and never be lonely, and they have been together ever since. EXTRA INFORMATION: His makers spider type was, Black Widow, so he inherited the Gold Orb Weaver Genes. His maker Jeana. She can also be used an NPC.
546	12	16	179	5,683	Kaephypton frowned after he was put down and heard that humans used these “cars” as transportation. They travel in demons?... “What a strange earth Talthael has sent me to…” he muttered. The figure before him was probably someone of his boss’s level or higher; something to mention when he made his report. Redmond whistled a tune that he had picked up while stalking a human some time back as he went down the road, seeing life about in every direction. It smelled… quite good. Lots of humans. Lots of lures to be had… chaos to create… He came across one particular door, and, on a whim, went inside. (aka, the Diner)	Redmond Drayer Surviving Leviathan ---------------------------------------------- ”Dick Roman fit his name in more ways than one. Now that he’s gone, I can do things the right way...” ---------------------------------------------- Basics Height: 5’6 Age: Immortal (first creation of God, so… fits the age rather well) Gender: Takes the form of a male. Body Type: Extended Personality Not the strongest of Leviathans, Redmond has always disagreed with Roman’s policy of senseless or even systematic assimilation of all into a single, controllable host. Redmond prefers chaos and lack of unity; something which makes it easier for him to act without those knowing. Unfortunately for him, he was one of the last of his kind to have been created and therefore one of the youngest; that leaves him at a disadvantage compared to others. However, with his old hated boss gone, he has explored new possibilities - including the expansion of his own inherent powers to include more… celestial representations. Not that this has worked yet, but he’s not going to give up. It’s rather difficult to stop him, so that has only helped to boost his confidence. He is more sadistic than other Leviathan‘s and may attempt to deliver beings expressing their powers in overly obvious ways (read: OP players) an “entertaining” first class ticket to his main course dinner plate. That said, he’s not stupid; he can cover his tracks well from the average hunter and can fool other beings that may or may not even know what he is. Backstory One of the last Leviathans to be created, he was more of a grunt power wise for the strongest of his kind, known as Dick Roman most recently. However, he always secretly despised how the others adhered to a policy of combining “Illuminati” style domination of others with dull feeding. Redmond liked chaos and picking his victims that had the most chance of realizing just where the threat would be coming from. Purgatory was his favorite place. It had all the chaos he could want; he was top of the food chain and enjoyed himself even as the others hated it. That made him the opposite of the other Leviathans when taken out of Purgatory by Castiel - he half-heartedly took up the side task of hunting and eating Castiel even as he was sent to take out others who were providing a fuss, such as the hunter Frank. Alas, he never met up with his goal, and tended to be elsewhere when the real action was happening. It did, however, save him from being one of those sucked to Purgatory by the death of Roman; he was far out of range and was one of the few to be left wandering the world. When he heard of Roman’s death, he hadn’t been so happy since he first discovered the nature of Purgatory. he went up in Alaska for a while, killing hunters and those who strayed off the trail, before picking up on the news of the “hot spot”, as the contacts who brought it to his attention called it. It was at that point that he decided to head to Fremont, the hotspot that had been called by his contacts “the big one” (at least, before he cleaned up loose ends and ate the said contacts…) Family If you’re Leviathan, you’re his brother (or sister?). Other -This character will be mostly killing NPC’s, but if you want to meet up with him in the course of roleplay to have the experience of fighting (and quite possibly dying to) a Leviathan, feel free. -If characters step way too out of line power wise or blatantly kill other player’s characters without any sort of advance warning or discussion, they might wake up (or turn around) to find a less than attractive mouth coming at them… -All normal ways to disable a Leviathan apply, and are a little more effective than on others if anything. At this point, nobody can make him “bib” because nobody has the authority. -The one known way to kill one isn’t something that’s going to happen in 5 posts. You can do it, just go with a little advance warning and make the path to death “logical” (as the supernatural universe can be). -To anyone who doesn’t know what he is, he is a monster (if they identify him as the killer). Keep in mind he can shapeshift to the form of those he touches, so one can lose the path without much difficulty (although I won’t make it stupidly impossible to track him, as that would just be boring roleplay). -his body looks like that of one of his particular favorite victims... -Yes, he can eat an Archangel. The above applies, though, and no Archangel will be eaten unless the GM steps in as God and destines my guy to mysteriously locate them to serve as a first course meal. Kaephypton Angelic Agent ---------------------------------------------- ”Without discipline, even the Angels can fall. Castiel taught us that.” ---------------------------------------------- (as of current host) Basics Height: 5’3 Age: Immortal (Among the first beings created by god, although younger than all Archangels) Gender: Identifies as male via his host. Body Type: Relatively fit, nothing special in that regard. Extended Personality The classic agent of heaven. He doesn’t understand just about any human convention to ever be created, having spent his time in heaven as more of a “poster child” and someone on hold, usually sent to 1v1 demons. He’s scornful of anyone who doesn’t uphold the highest of angelic ideals and feels dirty after a while of interacting with humans. He stands out like a sore thumb and tends to only identify demons and pursue them, or identify a tablet if he ever comes across one. His discipline is known across heaven, and to demons as well. Backstory <insert generic Angel life story here> The only thing to his existence that makes him stand out is his practice killing demons that heaven sends him to take out. He was sent to the mortal realm to find tablets by his superior, Talthael, who serves a small network of angels following the split in the Host’s leadership across various factions. He is, as of now, deemed “incorruptible” - the whole reason why he was sent in the first place. His life story was rather generic simply because he did everything he was supposed to, and not much more. The one thing in particular that is a soer subject is Michael, who he had looked up to as an idol until he vanished from Heaven. He holds a grudge gainst the winchesters and anyone who had connections with them, hear and far, fro their purpose in his fall. Family The angels. Other -He’s a practiced Demon killer. Anyone playing a demon must be extra careful to not bump into him, as he can identify demons very quickly (and demons are ultimately low on the scale compared to an angel). -He might be a comic relief character simply due to his complete old fashioned nature (the last time he interacted with humans was in the 1300’s, and still holds a “duel” mindset when it comes to solving disputes) and complete uselessness with modern technology. Anyone who introduces him to a computer better make a good impression, otherwise he might consider it a demon and hunt those too. -He’s not very friendly and especially nasty towards characters he feels are particularly sinful, and he has a good idea on the ones that genuinely are. -His angelic blade is specially designed to look like the kind used in the 1300’s. Characters should try not to laugh if he challenges them to a duel. -He has acquired his host by answering the prayer of a human businessman in his dreams. Nick Schaeffer Hunter ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ”I’m getting a little tired of being head-butted by overly horny ghosts that decided it was a good idea to bury their bones in a sealed coffin of concrete.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <Insert Applicable Image Here> Basics Height: 5’4 Age: 53 Gender: Male Body Type: Well kept up, yet feeling the years. Extended Personality His days in hunting have allowed him to meet a large variety of people and a possibly larger variety of ghosts, vampires, skinwalkers… you name it. He doesn’t get surprised by much and counts himself lucky for having lived as long as he has - about three friends of his remain that he had met in his early years. Many hunters would have died by now. He is somewhat paranoid and always checks his guests, but once they are confirmed and if they are friends, he has a softer, more fatherly side. Sometimes he ends up rambling, which tends to only stop when the other person brings him back on topic. He firmly considers the idea of “an innocent monster” a load of bullshit and says that even if one committed a good deed, they would have a considerably longer rap sheet of dark deeds to account for. He’s a good hunter with considerable knowledge, but isn’t close to being the fastest anymore and will likely find his end in not too long. Backstory Born into a hunting family, Shaeffer grew up in a paranoid household that only trusted those who had just been tested and were known as family friends. Everyone else could be taken as an enemy. Schaeffer started hunting with his father when he was only 16, learning the ropes and doing quite a bit of reading in the family library. When his father died, he managed to hunt down the werewolf who had killed him… but the events surrounding that showdown are unclear. Some say that the werewolf is still alive… After that, Schaeffer took a much more active role in hunting, forming a small group of associates, in which he tended to be the “lookup” guy (the one to read the books and figure out how to take <x> creature down). The group evolved into a small network, in which he met various hunters, such as Otis Yates. The original team had all died before Shaeffer was 45 years old. He now takes an interest in Fermont, as from what he had read out of his library… the tablets were a quite big dea, although rather vaguely described.. His goal is to retrieve them and then find a Prophet to translate them in order to “win” the previously thought unbeatable war against monsters. Family His father, Hendrick Schaeffer, died when his son was 20. He never knew his mother, Melissa Schaeffer. Other than that, he was an only child and didn’t have very much family. He did have an uncle, George Burnett, who was also a hunter until he died at 46 chasing down a Wraith. Other -He's not too strong in melee at this point, but knows quite a bit. -He won't be recalling word-for-word as he can't exactly load up a library into his ford and bring all thousand or so books along. Or at least, he's too lazy. -He's older than most hunters live to see. Basically, he's testing fate by living this long. -Interacting characters who he doesn't know to be a monster right off the bat will be subject to the "silver knife" and "holy water" tests. He carries both around. Naturally, he's reasonable about it... not going to go too well to test everyone in a hotel, but if you want to get in the room, he's going to damn well test you. Talthael Seraphim Angelic Faction Leader ---------------------------------------------- ”Heaven is in a state of war, and it needs a guiding hand if it’s ever going to go somewhere. Me, I wouldn’t mind being that hand.” ---------------------------------------------- Basics Height: 5’6 Age: Immortal (angelic) Gender: Genderless as he appears in his true form to all angels. Body Type: Extended Personality Slimy at best, a deceiver at worst, he likes to think he’s in charge - but in fact, his faction hasn’t been doing well lately, losing ground to Naomi and other influential leaders; being reduced to few angels remaining in his ranks. He tends to make things look like they are considerably better than they actually are. He thinks that the tablets will give him the ultimate upper hand in the battle for leadership. Backstory A senior angel just below the rank of Archangel, he has been an influential member of Heaven for many millennia - although he has lagged behind others, preferring to work in the background instead of being on the front line of affairs. His primary authority came in the form of Michael’s support and approval. As such, Talthael was almost entirely dependent on him, and lost ground in the mad rush for power in Heaven to Naomi and others, losing support of all Saraphim that had once been under his command. He now holds a legacy of being Michael’s pawn, five odd angels (albeit, one of them is actually fairly powerful when it comes to the run-of-the-mill angel), and a few loose artifacts that he picked up. It is now the main reason as to why he wants the Angel tablet - if he can get his hand on the most relevant tablet to heaven, his status will be boosted considerably. Family The Angels Other -He is the superior of Kaephypton. -His interactions will mostly be in heaven; there is a low chance of him doing things for himself. -He might send someone else in the form of a minor character to assist the cause. -He’s always been a slimy character, being distinctly independent from the archangels while appeasing them when possible. He’s not very popular with them as a result. -In terms of angelic faction leaders, he’s rather low on the scale. That said, he is a potent angel in his own right. This will consist of NPC's that are used to make particular interactions function that can be taken over by other players, killed, etc as they wish, and ones that I won't bother with a full CS because they were made for something specific (ie, a ghost created to give hunters a little something to do) that other players can't control. NPC's will be marked as such IC if I use them, so ya know what you can godmod. None at the moment.
547	12	17	578	130	Abby tittered, which was odd coming from a red-eyed demon. "Manners," she praised, "I like you. I would love to join you and your friend." She stood and motioned for Michael to lead the way, even though she already knew where they were sitting. She took quick not of the inhuman who just walked through the door, but didn't pay him much attention. Yet. She was sure she'd get to him when the time came.	RAGUEL ARCHANGEL OF JUSTICE, FAIRNESS, VENGEANCE, AND HARMONY "I LAY TO REST THE WICKED" "ASSBUTT" BASICS CHARACTER FULL NAME: Raguel NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Reggie HEIGHT: 5' 9" BODY TYPE: Mesomorph, athletic, bottom heavy. AGE: Appears about 26 GENDER: None; goes by "she" PERSONALITY: Raguel is just as clueless as most of her angel brethren, but she finds humanity more fascinating than most. She's particularly interested in their need for pleasure and self satisfaction. She's ruthless and righteous, like any good angel, but she secretly has a mind of her own. She hasn't met her prophet yet but she deeply wants to. She almost wishes something bad would happen to him/her so that she could appear to save the day. Her main traits are basically summed up in her title. Justice and Vengeance: she tries her very hardest to make sure everyone gets what they deserve. Fairness and Harmony: she loves conflict, but not stupid conflict, so she strives to keep order. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: God SIBLINGS: All angels EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Pamela Vander (the prophet she guards) HISTORY (OPTIONAL): None yet, I develop characters through roleplay. EXTRA INFORMATION: N/A ABYZU CROSSROADS DEMON "BOY, THERE ISN'T ROOM IN YOUR PANTS." (picture is.. under construction) BASICS APPEARANCE: short, fire engine red hair, red eyes, dark skin. CHARACTER FULL NAME: Abyzu NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Abby HEIGHT: 5' 9" BODY TYPE: Ectomorph, average AGE: Appears about 32 GENDER: None; goes by "she" PERSONALITY: Abyzu is the best employee Crowley could ever ask for. She's sadistic and hateful, her deals are always sealed quickly and quietly, and she enjoys pain. So much pain. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: N/A EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: N/A HISTORY: Abby takes the souls of children. Her power comes from these souls. EXTRA INFORMATION: She has a thing for flirting. PAMELA VANDER PROPHET OF THE LORD "WAIT.. WHAT?" (picture is under construction) BASICS APPEARANCE: Portly, short, mousy, silver hair, one green eye, one yellow eye, crooked smile. CHARACTER FULL NAME: Pamela Vander NICK NAME OR ALIAS: None HEIGHT: 5' 6" BODY TYPE: Mesomorph, skinny, out of shape AGE: 14 GENDER: Female PERSONALITY: Pamela is always very confused. She doesn't do very well in school and she has a hard time concentrating on one thing at a time. She has a habit of refusing to do things she doesn't want to. She's a little lazy and kind of selfish, but her heart is in the right place. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: Daren Vander (he won't be mentioned) EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Raguel (the Archangel who guards her) HISTORY (OPTIONAL): EXTRA INFORMATION: Pamela secretly got a tattoo of a half moon with a wolf's paw for her brother.
548	12	18	1,617	689	Tod looked over as a man walked in. Well not a man but an it. He couldn't quiet put his finger on what he was but he could smell the hunger on him. He then looked back over and watched as the demon and Micheal made their exchange. He wanted to wring Micheal up by his neck for taking such dangerous actions, that demon could do anything and....well he was fine now so all had to do was hope that the new character didn't cause any trouble. He straightened himself back up and watched Micheal and her cross the room to get back to their booth. He wondered what would happen next. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Micheal did a short nod ans smiled. This one had a pleasant tone, but he wondered why she was here. The he herd the bells of the door and looked over and saw a true monster. He did not stop and continued to walk back over with one thing on his mind, Excitement. Micheal was sure he had met every king of monster out there but this one was different. He had an aura that made Micheal want to put him on a lobotomy table and cut him open. But for now he had to be satisfied with a distant observation. His attention returned to the booth were he sat down and let this demon sit next to him. "This is Tod James and I am Micheal Von Jence." He said with a smile.	Micheal Von Jence CHARACTER FULL NAME: Micheal Von Jence AGE, SPECIES: 459 years old, Fairy (Wicked Witch) NICK NAME OR ALIAS: MJ (The Witch Doctor) HEIGHT: 5'10 BODY TYPE: Toned, Slim AGE: Looks about 18 GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Micheal is a meticulous intellectual, the "scientist" of the fairy community. He is highly narcissistic and extremely flamboyant, tending to make lewd, disturbing comments about people he doesn't like. Micheal is quite sadistic, viewing others as little more than research material. He thinks poorly of humans, hoping someone will someday wipe them all out of existence. He thinks of himself as an actor, treating his battles like theatrical performances, especially when toying with his victims. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: N/A PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: Jon(Younger Brother), Anna(Older Sister) EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Another Witch (good) named Alice, the only other one he can tolerate. HISTORY: Micheal was born at the start of the slave trade in the 16th century. He grew up in luxury and endless help. Everyone in his family are witches and he was no exception. As a child he would bully human children with his gifts and play endless tricks on his siblings. When he got older he learned to harness his gifts and became a fully fledged witch. He decided to live the life of a scientist and experiment on what ever he can. This is were his dark nature grew from. The only one who has ever seen the "good" side of him is his friend Alice. In his 300s he tamed an Arachne named Tod and they have been companions ever since. EXTRA INFORMATION: His 100 year old pet snake. Tom James CHARACTER FULL NAME: Tom James AGE, SPECIES: 200 years old, Arachne NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Tommy (The Golden One) HEIGHT: 6'2 BODY TYPE: Muscular, Toned, Rugged AGE: Looks about early 30s GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Tom is an honest man. He has never been one to shy from the truth, and is always FRIENDS AND FAMILY: Micheal (his owner) PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: N/A EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: His maker Jeana. HISTORY: Tom was turned when he was 30. He was at his birthday party and Jeana turned him as a "gift". He has been miserable ever since. Having to fed on humanity on a weekly basis and not having any support. At one point he even tired to become a wanderer. Going from place to place. Trying not to feed but failing miserably. He never truly let go of his human nature until he went south. Down in the south he met Micheal. At first he dismissed him as some rude punk but he never wold have thought he was a 200 year old fairy. He began to hang around Micheal even more and earned the name pest. Then one day he saved his life and Micheal rewarded him by buying him. He told Tom that in exchange for his life he would make sure he could be himself and never be lonely, and they have been together ever since. EXTRA INFORMATION: His makers spider type was, Black Widow, so he inherited the Gold Orb Weaver Genes. His maker Jeana. She can also be used an NPC.
549	12	19	1,568	52	Zerena cursed under her breath as she struggled to get her key into the lock. Why was the thing so damn sticky? The smoker was talking to himself and staring at her. She wasn't really surprised that this place had gathered the crazy, she wouldn't be surprised if one more room over was a drug addict by the looks of this place. She only managed to get the key halfway in before she took a step back and kicked it. If it wasn't for the smoker, she'd probably just pick it and this would all be over with. It didn't help any that her ability to open this door now required more luck than it did force. She pulled it out and looked at the lock, inspecting the handle. She sighed, "You know... At this point, you should probably just take a picture," She looked over at the man and cocked an eyebrow, "Or would daddy not approve of that?" She normally found that when confronted about their own mutterings, most normal people decided to go back into their own little worlds. Not to mention, she wasn't really scared of him or anyone here really. She could easily handle herself against inebriated human, a piece of cake against the monsters and demons she had been dealing with over the years. She turned her attention from him to the key in her hands. Remaining crouched she started to pick some of the sludge out of the ridges. It looked like someone had tried to fix it and somehow failed miserably at the task, only making it worse. She sighed and reached into her bag, she didn't care what this guy would say, she was done with struggling with her lock. Bringing out two long sticks of metal, she made quick work of the lock. She let out a sigh of relief when she heard the click of the lock and stood opening the door before she bent over to return her lock picks to her bag and gather her things. Madeleine leaned her head back as she walked down the street, reveling in her latest kill. The way the woman had beaten on the man thinking he had brought in a third woman. The look on the man's face as he watched her first walk to the bed before sitting on the edge of it. The way their screams sounded as she muffled them in her hands. They were in an apartment building after all. She couldn't let anyone burst in to spoil all of her fun. Boy, had she had fun. Something about the intimacy of an apartment had made the kill all that more satisfying. Sure, the screams were always nice to hear but the threat of her fun being disrupted and inflicting so much pain without allowing them to scream... It was really quite wonderful. Her heels made a rhythmic clacking noise as she walked. Heel, toe, heel, toe. She didn't know where she was going... Maybe in search of another victim... maybe find another demon and paint the town red... Well, she had all the time in world to figure out just what it was that she was going to do. Olesya had been going to check on Atlas and make sure that he hadn't swindle the poor casino out of too much money when she saw the light. She pursed her lips and assumed this was something worth telling Atlas about... There was clearly another Angel. She headed into the casino and asked a waitress about anyone cashing out large amounts of money and was told about a man who had left moments prior but seemed to vanish. That was definitely Atlas, he must had turned invisible... Maybe he had seen the light, she figured it was best just to go to him. She stepped outside and in an instant was on the sidewalk across the street from the Archangel she was looking for. In the road, she noticed the man that she assumed to be their new arrival threaten a car with his blade. She barely had time to react though before Atlas ran in and pulled the Angel out of the street and onto her side of the road. She stepped forward then and placed her hand on Atlas's arm, "Be nice," She said, giving him a bit of a stern look. She then turned her attention of the angel and smiled at him, "You haven't been to Earth in a while... Have you?" She asked, her voice soft.	IAN COSDEN HUNTER "Small tricks won't work on me... Sweetheart" "Dude!?! Really!?! Loosen up a little!!" Full name: Ian Cosden Alias: Jackson Wright Height: 5'11" Body type: Thin yet muscular Age: Just barely 22 Gender: Male MAYLA BETHELL SKINWALKER "Have you seen the world through the eyes of a dog??... No!! Then don't assume you know anything." Skinwalker form: Full name: Mayla Bethell Nickname: May Heigth: 4'11" Body type: Thin and a little lanky Age: 10 Gender: Female
550	12	20	2,519	389	Dominique "Alright! Alright. Taco Bell it is." he let out an audible, distressed sigh as he slipped the phone back into his jacket. Breathing in the freshness of the mountain air, he decided what was to be done next. The roads were bare that night, with the occasional loading truck making its rounds around the area. Perfect to slip away unnoticed. Although, the demon was still conflicted as to where he was meant to go in order to find the nearest Taco Bell, so he waited. An idea began to unravel once he noticed a distant light inching closer to where he stood. On the side of the road, he paced back and forth until the truck came by at an alarming speed. Dom paid no attention to its acceleration and proceeded to step in front of the truck's route with arms held high. "HEY!" with a fraction of time to react, the driver had only managed to slam the breaks once the vehicle fully collided with the demon. He was convinced he broke the young man, but Dom planted his feet firmly into the ground, allowing the truck to skid along with the demon for a single second. The brunette swung around the corner, climbed onto the footstep of the truck and popped his head into the window, greeted by a jarred driver with a rosary clutched tightly in both hands. The man's entire frame shook, as Dom laughed at the expression on his face. "H-how are you--" "Oh, well... fit, able-bodied young men like me can do wonders." he snorted. He gave the plump driver a once-over with a slight smirk, "...but I'm sure you wouldn't understand." "Excuse m-m--" With a rough jerk, the driver had his throat gripped tight by the unscathed demon within a fraction of a second. "Tell me where the closest Taco Bell is. If you hurry, I'll leave you in one piece for your family." The bearded man's eyes darted across and back as he struggled to breathe and get the words out. With a glance to his side and a fleeting breath, he finally stuck an arm out, pointing right ahead to indicate the location of the demon's destination. Dom allowed the darkness of his nature to cloud his eyes, revealing to the middle-aged man who his assailant was. This delighted him, as he knew this would be the driver's last image. A quick swipe sounded in the air, as an array of dark crimson spurted from the man's severed jugular which stained the dashboard and windows. An expression of agony flashed across the man's face, pleading eyes locked with Dom's own pitch-dark pair. "I only said I'd leave you in one piece." Dom whispered whilst the life left the driver's eyes. This was his queue to make a break for it. Starting off with a jog, followed by a full-on sprint, Dom was happy with how productive that night turned out to be. Normally he would have had more time with the driver, but he figured he could have easily done the same thing some other night. Besides, he had a plan to unfurl with his buddy, so once that's done, mass killings would be a total breeze for him and the rest of the demon population. The moon shone its light high in the sky, which relieved him, knowing he still had enough time to make it before sunrise. Dominique reached the tiny town, or rather, a mass of shacks and a couple of shabby restaurants within the next minute. He switched back to his meatsuit's original eye color and scouted the area for the Mexican joint. A glint of pink and purple just around the corner had him hyped, but not for the food of course. He casually crossed the intersection before he noticed two men flashing from one point to another within the blink of an eye. The demon's eyes widened as he quickened his pace. The young man stepped into the restaurant and noticed the presence of more than one paranormal entities in the area. Four, to be exact. Inwardly cursing at Paimon's favorite restaurant, he took a seat right next to the door and scanned the room to follow the unfamiliar scent. Dom realized there was another demon present, a lady to be sure. Two strangers approached her, and Dom wasn't sure whether they were hostile or not. Another 'man' had just taken a seat across the diner, from where Dominique sat. The smell emanating from him started to grow familiar as his dread rose. Regardless, he waited in silence to watch the events unfold as he impatiently waited for his friend, and anxiously hoped that the 'miracle-workers' outside didn't notice him.	.
551	12	21	179	5,683	K frowned as he saw another arrival. Most likely an angel as well... this was odd. He would have quite a bit of news for his boss. Responding to her, he said, "Well... no, not since the 15th century." Redmond was beginning to regret his choice of diner. The blatant demon’s oder almost sent him back out the door. Disgusting… The other two near it didn’t have much of a better smell either. They probably came from Eve... yes, that was it. Apparently the diner was a hotspot, he thought as he sat down clear on the other end of the diner, which he could at least tolerate. Only good demon is a meal. Come to think of it, that wouldn’t be too bad of an idea… The waitress, obviously noticing some of the very things Redmond had noticed, came over, still looking nervous and throwing looks over her shoulder. He took a quick look at the menu. How do humans eat this stuff? “Just a water for now, no minerals, just some real liquid if you please.” At least he could drink that, although humans spiked their water, too. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had one spiked with borax… although if they did, they wouldn’t last very long. He saw yet another demon come into the diner. Damn things grow off crossroads these days… He ignored it and looked around for something that would be a real meal. The waitress actually didn’t look bad. Perhaps when she went on break?... There we go. Take her form, eat her, and put some of Roman’s only good stuff into all their drinks… If just one more demon entered the bar, though… he gave a rather evil look to the female demon with the red eyes before staring at some steaks humans across the street out the window.	Redmond Drayer Surviving Leviathan ---------------------------------------------- ”Dick Roman fit his name in more ways than one. Now that he’s gone, I can do things the right way...” ---------------------------------------------- Basics Height: 5’6 Age: Immortal (first creation of God, so… fits the age rather well) Gender: Takes the form of a male. Body Type: Extended Personality Not the strongest of Leviathans, Redmond has always disagreed with Roman’s policy of senseless or even systematic assimilation of all into a single, controllable host. Redmond prefers chaos and lack of unity; something which makes it easier for him to act without those knowing. Unfortunately for him, he was one of the last of his kind to have been created and therefore one of the youngest; that leaves him at a disadvantage compared to others. However, with his old hated boss gone, he has explored new possibilities - including the expansion of his own inherent powers to include more… celestial representations. Not that this has worked yet, but he’s not going to give up. It’s rather difficult to stop him, so that has only helped to boost his confidence. He is more sadistic than other Leviathan‘s and may attempt to deliver beings expressing their powers in overly obvious ways (read: OP players) an “entertaining” first class ticket to his main course dinner plate. That said, he’s not stupid; he can cover his tracks well from the average hunter and can fool other beings that may or may not even know what he is. Backstory One of the last Leviathans to be created, he was more of a grunt power wise for the strongest of his kind, known as Dick Roman most recently. However, he always secretly despised how the others adhered to a policy of combining “Illuminati” style domination of others with dull feeding. Redmond liked chaos and picking his victims that had the most chance of realizing just where the threat would be coming from. Purgatory was his favorite place. It had all the chaos he could want; he was top of the food chain and enjoyed himself even as the others hated it. That made him the opposite of the other Leviathans when taken out of Purgatory by Castiel - he half-heartedly took up the side task of hunting and eating Castiel even as he was sent to take out others who were providing a fuss, such as the hunter Frank. Alas, he never met up with his goal, and tended to be elsewhere when the real action was happening. It did, however, save him from being one of those sucked to Purgatory by the death of Roman; he was far out of range and was one of the few to be left wandering the world. When he heard of Roman’s death, he hadn’t been so happy since he first discovered the nature of Purgatory. he went up in Alaska for a while, killing hunters and those who strayed off the trail, before picking up on the news of the “hot spot”, as the contacts who brought it to his attention called it. It was at that point that he decided to head to Fremont, the hotspot that had been called by his contacts “the big one” (at least, before he cleaned up loose ends and ate the said contacts…) Family If you’re Leviathan, you’re his brother (or sister?). Other -This character will be mostly killing NPC’s, but if you want to meet up with him in the course of roleplay to have the experience of fighting (and quite possibly dying to) a Leviathan, feel free. -If characters step way too out of line power wise or blatantly kill other player’s characters without any sort of advance warning or discussion, they might wake up (or turn around) to find a less than attractive mouth coming at them… -All normal ways to disable a Leviathan apply, and are a little more effective than on others if anything. At this point, nobody can make him “bib” because nobody has the authority. -The one known way to kill one isn’t something that’s going to happen in 5 posts. You can do it, just go with a little advance warning and make the path to death “logical” (as the supernatural universe can be). -To anyone who doesn’t know what he is, he is a monster (if they identify him as the killer). Keep in mind he can shapeshift to the form of those he touches, so one can lose the path without much difficulty (although I won’t make it stupidly impossible to track him, as that would just be boring roleplay). -his body looks like that of one of his particular favorite victims... -Yes, he can eat an Archangel. The above applies, though, and no Archangel will be eaten unless the GM steps in as God and destines my guy to mysteriously locate them to serve as a first course meal. Kaephypton Angelic Agent ---------------------------------------------- ”Without discipline, even the Angels can fall. Castiel taught us that.” ---------------------------------------------- (as of current host) Basics Height: 5’3 Age: Immortal (Among the first beings created by god, although younger than all Archangels) Gender: Identifies as male via his host. Body Type: Relatively fit, nothing special in that regard. Extended Personality The classic agent of heaven. He doesn’t understand just about any human convention to ever be created, having spent his time in heaven as more of a “poster child” and someone on hold, usually sent to 1v1 demons. He’s scornful of anyone who doesn’t uphold the highest of angelic ideals and feels dirty after a while of interacting with humans. He stands out like a sore thumb and tends to only identify demons and pursue them, or identify a tablet if he ever comes across one. His discipline is known across heaven, and to demons as well. Backstory <insert generic Angel life story here> The only thing to his existence that makes him stand out is his practice killing demons that heaven sends him to take out. He was sent to the mortal realm to find tablets by his superior, Talthael, who serves a small network of angels following the split in the Host’s leadership across various factions. He is, as of now, deemed “incorruptible” - the whole reason why he was sent in the first place. His life story was rather generic simply because he did everything he was supposed to, and not much more. The one thing in particular that is a soer subject is Michael, who he had looked up to as an idol until he vanished from Heaven. He holds a grudge gainst the winchesters and anyone who had connections with them, hear and far, fro their purpose in his fall. Family The angels. Other -He’s a practiced Demon killer. Anyone playing a demon must be extra careful to not bump into him, as he can identify demons very quickly (and demons are ultimately low on the scale compared to an angel). -He might be a comic relief character simply due to his complete old fashioned nature (the last time he interacted with humans was in the 1300’s, and still holds a “duel” mindset when it comes to solving disputes) and complete uselessness with modern technology. Anyone who introduces him to a computer better make a good impression, otherwise he might consider it a demon and hunt those too. -He’s not very friendly and especially nasty towards characters he feels are particularly sinful, and he has a good idea on the ones that genuinely are. -His angelic blade is specially designed to look like the kind used in the 1300’s. Characters should try not to laugh if he challenges them to a duel. -He has acquired his host by answering the prayer of a human businessman in his dreams. Nick Schaeffer Hunter ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ”I’m getting a little tired of being head-butted by overly horny ghosts that decided it was a good idea to bury their bones in a sealed coffin of concrete.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <Insert Applicable Image Here> Basics Height: 5’4 Age: 53 Gender: Male Body Type: Well kept up, yet feeling the years. Extended Personality His days in hunting have allowed him to meet a large variety of people and a possibly larger variety of ghosts, vampires, skinwalkers… you name it. He doesn’t get surprised by much and counts himself lucky for having lived as long as he has - about three friends of his remain that he had met in his early years. Many hunters would have died by now. He is somewhat paranoid and always checks his guests, but once they are confirmed and if they are friends, he has a softer, more fatherly side. Sometimes he ends up rambling, which tends to only stop when the other person brings him back on topic. He firmly considers the idea of “an innocent monster” a load of bullshit and says that even if one committed a good deed, they would have a considerably longer rap sheet of dark deeds to account for. He’s a good hunter with considerable knowledge, but isn’t close to being the fastest anymore and will likely find his end in not too long. Backstory Born into a hunting family, Shaeffer grew up in a paranoid household that only trusted those who had just been tested and were known as family friends. Everyone else could be taken as an enemy. Schaeffer started hunting with his father when he was only 16, learning the ropes and doing quite a bit of reading in the family library. When his father died, he managed to hunt down the werewolf who had killed him… but the events surrounding that showdown are unclear. Some say that the werewolf is still alive… After that, Schaeffer took a much more active role in hunting, forming a small group of associates, in which he tended to be the “lookup” guy (the one to read the books and figure out how to take <x> creature down). The group evolved into a small network, in which he met various hunters, such as Otis Yates. The original team had all died before Shaeffer was 45 years old. He now takes an interest in Fermont, as from what he had read out of his library… the tablets were a quite big dea, although rather vaguely described.. His goal is to retrieve them and then find a Prophet to translate them in order to “win” the previously thought unbeatable war against monsters. Family His father, Hendrick Schaeffer, died when his son was 20. He never knew his mother, Melissa Schaeffer. Other than that, he was an only child and didn’t have very much family. He did have an uncle, George Burnett, who was also a hunter until he died at 46 chasing down a Wraith. Other -He's not too strong in melee at this point, but knows quite a bit. -He won't be recalling word-for-word as he can't exactly load up a library into his ford and bring all thousand or so books along. Or at least, he's too lazy. -He's older than most hunters live to see. Basically, he's testing fate by living this long. -Interacting characters who he doesn't know to be a monster right off the bat will be subject to the "silver knife" and "holy water" tests. He carries both around. Naturally, he's reasonable about it... not going to go too well to test everyone in a hotel, but if you want to get in the room, he's going to damn well test you. Talthael Seraphim Angelic Faction Leader ---------------------------------------------- ”Heaven is in a state of war, and it needs a guiding hand if it’s ever going to go somewhere. Me, I wouldn’t mind being that hand.” ---------------------------------------------- Basics Height: 5’6 Age: Immortal (angelic) Gender: Genderless as he appears in his true form to all angels. Body Type: Extended Personality Slimy at best, a deceiver at worst, he likes to think he’s in charge - but in fact, his faction hasn’t been doing well lately, losing ground to Naomi and other influential leaders; being reduced to few angels remaining in his ranks. He tends to make things look like they are considerably better than they actually are. He thinks that the tablets will give him the ultimate upper hand in the battle for leadership. Backstory A senior angel just below the rank of Archangel, he has been an influential member of Heaven for many millennia - although he has lagged behind others, preferring to work in the background instead of being on the front line of affairs. His primary authority came in the form of Michael’s support and approval. As such, Talthael was almost entirely dependent on him, and lost ground in the mad rush for power in Heaven to Naomi and others, losing support of all Saraphim that had once been under his command. He now holds a legacy of being Michael’s pawn, five odd angels (albeit, one of them is actually fairly powerful when it comes to the run-of-the-mill angel), and a few loose artifacts that he picked up. It is now the main reason as to why he wants the Angel tablet - if he can get his hand on the most relevant tablet to heaven, his status will be boosted considerably. Family The Angels Other -He is the superior of Kaephypton. -His interactions will mostly be in heaven; there is a low chance of him doing things for himself. -He might send someone else in the form of a minor character to assist the cause. -He’s always been a slimy character, being distinctly independent from the archangels while appeasing them when possible. He’s not very popular with them as a result. -In terms of angelic faction leaders, he’s rather low on the scale. That said, he is a potent angel in his own right. This will consist of NPC's that are used to make particular interactions function that can be taken over by other players, killed, etc as they wish, and ones that I won't bother with a full CS because they were made for something specific (ie, a ghost created to give hunters a little something to do) that other players can't control. NPC's will be marked as such IC if I use them, so ya know what you can godmod. None at the moment.
552	12	22	1,804	386	Wiping his still-bloody hands off on a towel, Paimon gave the corpse one last onceover before he headed on his way. From what he could tell so far, Dominique’s presence was marked by several others around him, many of them inhuman. Huh. Perhaps Taco Bell was more popular with the supernatural than he’d realised. Still though, he was too far away to be able to sense any specific details about these beings. But whatever they were, it was nothing he couldn’t handle, right? Shaking any remaining doubt out of his head, Paimon worked on honing in on Dominique’s location, and with a metaphorical swish-and-flick, he was gone. The next thing he knew, Paimon found himself standing in an alleyway, asphalt slippery with ice and melted snow. He liked to think it was good practice to give your destinations a wide berth. After all, you never know just who or what you might encounter. Now that he was closer, however, the demon was beginning to pick up quite the array of signatures. The souls of every creature were different, and apart from the humans and demons, which he’d expected -- there were a few others. One in particular caught his attention, it was something primordial. Something ancient. At that very moment, Paimon realised exactly just what this being was. How could he have been so blind? In all his years on earth, only one kind of creature gave off such an aura of hunger and agelessness -- Leviathan. What were they doing at a Taco Bell? Paimon had no idea, but he wasn’t about to stick around to find out. Part of him entertained the choice of getting the hell out of dodge before things inevitably went south, since you know, all-devouring monster from the beginning of time? Even if you were the commander of two-hundred legions of demons, cavorting with one of... their kind, was flirting with disaster. Unfortunately, Paimon had never been the most cautious of demons, and a sick sort of glee welled up in him at the chance of being able to see one of these beasts up close. Of course, it probably wasn’t worth the risk it would pose to his life, but the words ‘sound judgement’ just didn’t exist in Paimon’s dictionary. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he made his way round to the front of the building. The glowing sign was caked in a thick layer of powder snow, but it was a Taco Bell, alright. The purple and pink peeking through from under the frost was evidence enough, though the ‘50’s diner’ vibe it was giving off was a little weird. Quietly, he pushed opened the front door, stepping through the threshold. Paimon scanned the establishment for Dominique, and moved to join the younger demon at his booth as soon as he laid eyes on him. “Did you see him?” Paimon questioned, not-so-subtly craning his head to look over his shoulder. He was almost bouncing with excitement. “The Leviathan?”	Madeleine de Lafontaine It's Hard To Get To Heaven, When You're Born Hell Bound. M'Lady / Maddie / Lafontaine Demon Madeleine stands at 5'4 with a slender hourglass figure, appearing to be in her mid twenties. 392 Female Madeleine is a seductress at heart. She enjoys toying with those she tends to kill and has a special hatred for human men after she died at the hands of her husband and saved her vessel from the same fate. Madeleine was beaten to death by her husband after committing adultery when she was 22 years old and was dragged into the pits of hell for her sins. Her anger allowed for her to quickly be stripped from her humanity and she wanted nothing more than revenge on the man who had killed. However, when her demonic visage finally revealed itself, her bastard husband was already dead. This was when she came upon a young maiden who was about to be hung. As she screamed for mercy from the men around her, begging her husband to stop his madness. Madeleine realized how she might gain her revenge and possessed her. The girl's pleas fell into quiet whimpering as the stool she stood upon was toss from under her feet and the rope tightened around her next as she fell. She did not die. Instead, she held eyes with the man who stood in front of her, a cruel smile playing on her lips. Reaching above her, Madeleine grabbed hold of the rope and with a large yank, the branch she was hanging from snapped. After brushing herself off, Madeleine mascaraed the men who had gathered to watch the woman's death before she destroyed the town. The demon has lived her life like this since. She bares a scar from the rope as a reminder of the cruelty of human men.
553	12	23	578	130	Abyzu, her red eyes flashed with amusement at how uncomfortable Tod seemed to be, "Call me Abby." She extended her hand slowly, just testing the waters with these two. She briefly glanced an ugly looked flashed her way, but ignored it. She could sense him and she knew what he was. She had been around for a long, long time. What did peak her interest was the curious amount of paranormal around her crossroads today.	RAGUEL ARCHANGEL OF JUSTICE, FAIRNESS, VENGEANCE, AND HARMONY "I LAY TO REST THE WICKED" "ASSBUTT" BASICS CHARACTER FULL NAME: Raguel NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Reggie HEIGHT: 5' 9" BODY TYPE: Mesomorph, athletic, bottom heavy. AGE: Appears about 26 GENDER: None; goes by "she" PERSONALITY: Raguel is just as clueless as most of her angel brethren, but she finds humanity more fascinating than most. She's particularly interested in their need for pleasure and self satisfaction. She's ruthless and righteous, like any good angel, but she secretly has a mind of her own. She hasn't met her prophet yet but she deeply wants to. She almost wishes something bad would happen to him/her so that she could appear to save the day. Her main traits are basically summed up in her title. Justice and Vengeance: she tries her very hardest to make sure everyone gets what they deserve. Fairness and Harmony: she loves conflict, but not stupid conflict, so she strives to keep order. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: God SIBLINGS: All angels EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Pamela Vander (the prophet she guards) HISTORY (OPTIONAL): None yet, I develop characters through roleplay. EXTRA INFORMATION: N/A ABYZU CROSSROADS DEMON "BOY, THERE ISN'T ROOM IN YOUR PANTS." (picture is.. under construction) BASICS APPEARANCE: short, fire engine red hair, red eyes, dark skin. CHARACTER FULL NAME: Abyzu NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Abby HEIGHT: 5' 9" BODY TYPE: Ectomorph, average AGE: Appears about 32 GENDER: None; goes by "she" PERSONALITY: Abyzu is the best employee Crowley could ever ask for. She's sadistic and hateful, her deals are always sealed quickly and quietly, and she enjoys pain. So much pain. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: N/A EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: N/A HISTORY: Abby takes the souls of children. Her power comes from these souls. EXTRA INFORMATION: She has a thing for flirting. PAMELA VANDER PROPHET OF THE LORD "WAIT.. WHAT?" (picture is under construction) BASICS APPEARANCE: Portly, short, mousy, silver hair, one green eye, one yellow eye, crooked smile. CHARACTER FULL NAME: Pamela Vander NICK NAME OR ALIAS: None HEIGHT: 5' 6" BODY TYPE: Mesomorph, skinny, out of shape AGE: 14 GENDER: Female PERSONALITY: Pamela is always very confused. She doesn't do very well in school and she has a hard time concentrating on one thing at a time. She has a habit of refusing to do things she doesn't want to. She's a little lazy and kind of selfish, but her heart is in the right place. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: Daren Vander (he won't be mentioned) EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Raguel (the Archangel who guards her) HISTORY (OPTIONAL): EXTRA INFORMATION: Pamela secretly got a tattoo of a half moon with a wolf's paw for her brother.
554	12	24	1,617	689	Tod took her hand, only because Micheal was still occupied. He was wonder what her angle was. Demons, in his experience, always had an end game and they used what ever means necessary to get there. Tod could feel the malicious intent coming from the monster in the corner and his hairs stood up. When two more demons came in he decided it was time to go, but Micheal was still eating so they had to wait. "So what brings you to this city." Tod asked Abby. He only hoped it wasn't to start trouble with them. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Micheal sat there and watched the two converse. He felt like a kid at a parent-teacher conference. The he looked over at mystery "it". He finally got his finger out of the cuffs and their food was brought over. While he ate he wondered why this city had attracted so many different creatures. Then he felt two more demons enter the establishment. This had begun to worry him but not to much to show. "Not to be rude, but what is that over there. I ask because I know you know." He asked Abby with a smile on his face and excitement in his eyes.	Micheal Von Jence CHARACTER FULL NAME: Micheal Von Jence AGE, SPECIES: 459 years old, Fairy (Wicked Witch) NICK NAME OR ALIAS: MJ (The Witch Doctor) HEIGHT: 5'10 BODY TYPE: Toned, Slim AGE: Looks about 18 GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Micheal is a meticulous intellectual, the "scientist" of the fairy community. He is highly narcissistic and extremely flamboyant, tending to make lewd, disturbing comments about people he doesn't like. Micheal is quite sadistic, viewing others as little more than research material. He thinks poorly of humans, hoping someone will someday wipe them all out of existence. He thinks of himself as an actor, treating his battles like theatrical performances, especially when toying with his victims. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: N/A PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: Jon(Younger Brother), Anna(Older Sister) EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Another Witch (good) named Alice, the only other one he can tolerate. HISTORY: Micheal was born at the start of the slave trade in the 16th century. He grew up in luxury and endless help. Everyone in his family are witches and he was no exception. As a child he would bully human children with his gifts and play endless tricks on his siblings. When he got older he learned to harness his gifts and became a fully fledged witch. He decided to live the life of a scientist and experiment on what ever he can. This is were his dark nature grew from. The only one who has ever seen the "good" side of him is his friend Alice. In his 300s he tamed an Arachne named Tod and they have been companions ever since. EXTRA INFORMATION: His 100 year old pet snake. Tom James CHARACTER FULL NAME: Tom James AGE, SPECIES: 200 years old, Arachne NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Tommy (The Golden One) HEIGHT: 6'2 BODY TYPE: Muscular, Toned, Rugged AGE: Looks about early 30s GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Tom is an honest man. He has never been one to shy from the truth, and is always FRIENDS AND FAMILY: Micheal (his owner) PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: N/A EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: His maker Jeana. HISTORY: Tom was turned when he was 30. He was at his birthday party and Jeana turned him as a "gift". He has been miserable ever since. Having to fed on humanity on a weekly basis and not having any support. At one point he even tired to become a wanderer. Going from place to place. Trying not to feed but failing miserably. He never truly let go of his human nature until he went south. Down in the south he met Micheal. At first he dismissed him as some rude punk but he never wold have thought he was a 200 year old fairy. He began to hang around Micheal even more and earned the name pest. Then one day he saved his life and Micheal rewarded him by buying him. He told Tom that in exchange for his life he would make sure he could be himself and never be lonely, and they have been together ever since. EXTRA INFORMATION: His makers spider type was, Black Widow, so he inherited the Gold Orb Weaver Genes. His maker Jeana. She can also be used an NPC.
555	12	25	627	375	Buddy, it's been the same Earth it has been. I don't know where you've been, but it sure as hell wasn't on Earth. Atlas sighed, shaking his head as he took a drag from his cigarette. You would think whoever sent this newbie here that they would at least teach him about human life nowadays. Heaven was really being run by boneheads these days... Speaking of heaven, his darling angel had come to see him. More or less tracked him down from the casino he guessed, because the first way she greeted him was to be nice to the very unintelligent angel. "Nice? I got this guy from being hit by a car, and the guy driving the car from being slashed to pieces by this nestalgic lunatic who thinks everything is a demon... I've done my good deed for the day." Atlas shook his head, blowing little smoke puffs into the air. "Not my fault he didn't get taught about humans by whatever kind of idiotic leadership they have going on up there."	CHARACTER NAME: Atlas, Arch Angel of Balance, Order, and Chaos AGE, SPECIES: Thousands of years, Arch Angel "Bring order and balance to the world, no matter the cost." BASICS CHARACTER FULL NAME: Atlas Cage NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Atlas HEIGHT: 6'3 BODY TYPE: Muscular, toned and fit AGE: Looks to be about 23 GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Has good morales but will go about his duties as he sees fit. It doesn't matter if he has to kill in order to get a job accomplished, the divine order is above all. Other than this he is usually a bit of a flirt, sarcastic, know-it-all, kind of an asshole to most, but does have a sweet and caring side to him (Although rarely anybody gets there) FRIENDS AND FAMILY: N/A PARENTS: God SIBLINGS: All other Angels EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: N/A HISTORY: Atlas is a powerful archangel who is sort of the outcast of the bunch. He resides most of his time on earth, holding up justice and the order there and isn't too heavenly sometimes. Always been a loner, he spends his time flirting with woman, drinking, gambling, just having fun and being reckless through the body he attained of a wealthy playboy millionaire who was heavily religious and wanted nothing more than a very powerful Arch Angel to embody him. For this most of the other angels do not take a liking to Atlas, but he is one of the most powerful and does uphold their morales and help fight in their name better than most, so they tolerate him. EXTRA INFORMATION: Has the abilities of an Arch Angel.
556	12	26	1,568	52	Atlas, Olesya warned slightly as he refused to play nice with the new angel and in turn spat upon those who worked in Heaven to send Angels to Earth. She released his arm and stepped between him and the new angel, a soft smile playing on her lips, "Well, as you can see a lot has changed since the 15th century and humans have made leaps about bounds in technology. Of example, instead of having to spend our painting, they can now," She paused as she pulled out her phone and quickly took a picture, "Capture the world around us far faster than we ever could before. Which also means, that we as visitors here have to be more discreet in our happenings. Even things that we believe will go unnoticed sometimes get caught by humans and it can cause... issues for everyone involved." She held her hands in front of herself, "Now, why don't you allow me to get you up to speed a little on Earth so that you don't accidentally endanger more humans. I believe that would be in all of our best interests." Zerena slipped inside her room and closed the door behind her before she threw her things onto the ground by the door. The place was gross... She had a feeling that the sheets were not as washed as often as they should be and she was just about positive that blanket that lay on top of them hadn't been washed in weeks. She sighed and stripped the blanket away, leaving her with just the sheets on the bed, figuring it would probably be clearer that way. Grabbing her bags again, she set her laptop on the desk in the corner before she grabbed her necessities out of her bag and headed into the shower. Once she was clean, the smell of grape wafting off of her a little, she wandered back into the main room and dressed herself. Then came taking out the last thing she needed to make this place her temporary home. Walking over to the door, she opened it and poured a clean line of salt just outside. If the door didn't swing in, posing a threat of disturbing the line, she might have done it inside but unfortunately that wasn't how most hotel room doors worked. Closing the door once more, she walked over to the window and did the same thing, pouring the salt along the window sill. With everything somewhat more secure, she walked over to her desk and started to look for another job to take on in the morning.	IAN COSDEN HUNTER "Small tricks won't work on me... Sweetheart" "Dude!?! Really!?! Loosen up a little!!" Full name: Ian Cosden Alias: Jackson Wright Height: 5'11" Body type: Thin yet muscular Age: Just barely 22 Gender: Male MAYLA BETHELL SKINWALKER "Have you seen the world through the eyes of a dog??... No!! Then don't assume you know anything." Skinwalker form: Full name: Mayla Bethell Nickname: May Heigth: 4'11" Body type: Thin and a little lanky Age: 10 Gender: Female
557	12	27	179	5,683	Schaeffer casually flicked the blade on his wrist, with a little blood coming out as was normal. He showed almost zero reaction; this was standard procedure, after all. He then raised the vial like a toast and effectively cleaned the wound with the liquid. The blood washed away normally, with no strange reactions whatsoever. He frowned as he was asked about his connections around here. "I've always had a bit of a trouble finding allies around here. I had one trusty asset that hasn't responded since last month, and if anything, this place tends to lure the young and the monsters more than good connections." "I heard something about an artifact... a tablet... around here." He quickly checked around him right after he said that, attempting to pass his reversed procedure as normal. "Have you heard anything about that?" Kaephypton nodded reluctantly. "I suppose so... it is a strange world these days. Talthael never mentioned these... cars." he wondered why this place had, from what he could guess, three angels including himself. The waitress came back out with a full cup of water. When she put it down, Redmond took a good look and sniffed at it. It wasn't the strangest thing that the waitress had seen all day... but it didn't help her sanity, either. "I asked for water, yes? And I did mention what I wanted?" The waitress nodded. "Then what... is a lemon... doing here?" he pointed at the lemon while giving her a stare. He didn't raise his voice, but his tone was clear enough. "Uh... sorry... I can get another one." she moved to take the cup. "No... no... leave it." he glared at her. You're lunch.... She almost broke down as she walked towards the bathrooms on the other side of the diner, vanishing into the ladies room. Half a minute later, Redmond got up and walked in that same direction. Time for lunch.	Redmond Drayer Surviving Leviathan ---------------------------------------------- ”Dick Roman fit his name in more ways than one. Now that he’s gone, I can do things the right way...” ---------------------------------------------- Basics Height: 5’6 Age: Immortal (first creation of God, so… fits the age rather well) Gender: Takes the form of a male. Body Type: Extended Personality Not the strongest of Leviathans, Redmond has always disagreed with Roman’s policy of senseless or even systematic assimilation of all into a single, controllable host. Redmond prefers chaos and lack of unity; something which makes it easier for him to act without those knowing. Unfortunately for him, he was one of the last of his kind to have been created and therefore one of the youngest; that leaves him at a disadvantage compared to others. However, with his old hated boss gone, he has explored new possibilities - including the expansion of his own inherent powers to include more… celestial representations. Not that this has worked yet, but he’s not going to give up. It’s rather difficult to stop him, so that has only helped to boost his confidence. He is more sadistic than other Leviathan‘s and may attempt to deliver beings expressing their powers in overly obvious ways (read: OP players) an “entertaining” first class ticket to his main course dinner plate. That said, he’s not stupid; he can cover his tracks well from the average hunter and can fool other beings that may or may not even know what he is. Backstory One of the last Leviathans to be created, he was more of a grunt power wise for the strongest of his kind, known as Dick Roman most recently. However, he always secretly despised how the others adhered to a policy of combining “Illuminati” style domination of others with dull feeding. Redmond liked chaos and picking his victims that had the most chance of realizing just where the threat would be coming from. Purgatory was his favorite place. It had all the chaos he could want; he was top of the food chain and enjoyed himself even as the others hated it. That made him the opposite of the other Leviathans when taken out of Purgatory by Castiel - he half-heartedly took up the side task of hunting and eating Castiel even as he was sent to take out others who were providing a fuss, such as the hunter Frank. Alas, he never met up with his goal, and tended to be elsewhere when the real action was happening. It did, however, save him from being one of those sucked to Purgatory by the death of Roman; he was far out of range and was one of the few to be left wandering the world. When he heard of Roman’s death, he hadn’t been so happy since he first discovered the nature of Purgatory. he went up in Alaska for a while, killing hunters and those who strayed off the trail, before picking up on the news of the “hot spot”, as the contacts who brought it to his attention called it. It was at that point that he decided to head to Fremont, the hotspot that had been called by his contacts “the big one” (at least, before he cleaned up loose ends and ate the said contacts…) Family If you’re Leviathan, you’re his brother (or sister?). Other -This character will be mostly killing NPC’s, but if you want to meet up with him in the course of roleplay to have the experience of fighting (and quite possibly dying to) a Leviathan, feel free. -If characters step way too out of line power wise or blatantly kill other player’s characters without any sort of advance warning or discussion, they might wake up (or turn around) to find a less than attractive mouth coming at them… -All normal ways to disable a Leviathan apply, and are a little more effective than on others if anything. At this point, nobody can make him “bib” because nobody has the authority. -The one known way to kill one isn’t something that’s going to happen in 5 posts. You can do it, just go with a little advance warning and make the path to death “logical” (as the supernatural universe can be). -To anyone who doesn’t know what he is, he is a monster (if they identify him as the killer). Keep in mind he can shapeshift to the form of those he touches, so one can lose the path without much difficulty (although I won’t make it stupidly impossible to track him, as that would just be boring roleplay). -his body looks like that of one of his particular favorite victims... -Yes, he can eat an Archangel. The above applies, though, and no Archangel will be eaten unless the GM steps in as God and destines my guy to mysteriously locate them to serve as a first course meal. Kaephypton Angelic Agent ---------------------------------------------- ”Without discipline, even the Angels can fall. Castiel taught us that.” ---------------------------------------------- (as of current host) Basics Height: 5’3 Age: Immortal (Among the first beings created by god, although younger than all Archangels) Gender: Identifies as male via his host. Body Type: Relatively fit, nothing special in that regard. Extended Personality The classic agent of heaven. He doesn’t understand just about any human convention to ever be created, having spent his time in heaven as more of a “poster child” and someone on hold, usually sent to 1v1 demons. He’s scornful of anyone who doesn’t uphold the highest of angelic ideals and feels dirty after a while of interacting with humans. He stands out like a sore thumb and tends to only identify demons and pursue them, or identify a tablet if he ever comes across one. His discipline is known across heaven, and to demons as well. Backstory <insert generic Angel life story here> The only thing to his existence that makes him stand out is his practice killing demons that heaven sends him to take out. He was sent to the mortal realm to find tablets by his superior, Talthael, who serves a small network of angels following the split in the Host’s leadership across various factions. He is, as of now, deemed “incorruptible” - the whole reason why he was sent in the first place. His life story was rather generic simply because he did everything he was supposed to, and not much more. The one thing in particular that is a soer subject is Michael, who he had looked up to as an idol until he vanished from Heaven. He holds a grudge gainst the winchesters and anyone who had connections with them, hear and far, fro their purpose in his fall. Family The angels. Other -He’s a practiced Demon killer. Anyone playing a demon must be extra careful to not bump into him, as he can identify demons very quickly (and demons are ultimately low on the scale compared to an angel). -He might be a comic relief character simply due to his complete old fashioned nature (the last time he interacted with humans was in the 1300’s, and still holds a “duel” mindset when it comes to solving disputes) and complete uselessness with modern technology. Anyone who introduces him to a computer better make a good impression, otherwise he might consider it a demon and hunt those too. -He’s not very friendly and especially nasty towards characters he feels are particularly sinful, and he has a good idea on the ones that genuinely are. -His angelic blade is specially designed to look like the kind used in the 1300’s. Characters should try not to laugh if he challenges them to a duel. -He has acquired his host by answering the prayer of a human businessman in his dreams. Nick Schaeffer Hunter ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ”I’m getting a little tired of being head-butted by overly horny ghosts that decided it was a good idea to bury their bones in a sealed coffin of concrete.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <Insert Applicable Image Here> Basics Height: 5’4 Age: 53 Gender: Male Body Type: Well kept up, yet feeling the years. Extended Personality His days in hunting have allowed him to meet a large variety of people and a possibly larger variety of ghosts, vampires, skinwalkers… you name it. He doesn’t get surprised by much and counts himself lucky for having lived as long as he has - about three friends of his remain that he had met in his early years. Many hunters would have died by now. He is somewhat paranoid and always checks his guests, but once they are confirmed and if they are friends, he has a softer, more fatherly side. Sometimes he ends up rambling, which tends to only stop when the other person brings him back on topic. He firmly considers the idea of “an innocent monster” a load of bullshit and says that even if one committed a good deed, they would have a considerably longer rap sheet of dark deeds to account for. He’s a good hunter with considerable knowledge, but isn’t close to being the fastest anymore and will likely find his end in not too long. Backstory Born into a hunting family, Shaeffer grew up in a paranoid household that only trusted those who had just been tested and were known as family friends. Everyone else could be taken as an enemy. Schaeffer started hunting with his father when he was only 16, learning the ropes and doing quite a bit of reading in the family library. When his father died, he managed to hunt down the werewolf who had killed him… but the events surrounding that showdown are unclear. Some say that the werewolf is still alive… After that, Schaeffer took a much more active role in hunting, forming a small group of associates, in which he tended to be the “lookup” guy (the one to read the books and figure out how to take <x> creature down). The group evolved into a small network, in which he met various hunters, such as Otis Yates. The original team had all died before Shaeffer was 45 years old. He now takes an interest in Fermont, as from what he had read out of his library… the tablets were a quite big dea, although rather vaguely described.. His goal is to retrieve them and then find a Prophet to translate them in order to “win” the previously thought unbeatable war against monsters. Family His father, Hendrick Schaeffer, died when his son was 20. He never knew his mother, Melissa Schaeffer. Other than that, he was an only child and didn’t have very much family. He did have an uncle, George Burnett, who was also a hunter until he died at 46 chasing down a Wraith. Other -He's not too strong in melee at this point, but knows quite a bit. -He won't be recalling word-for-word as he can't exactly load up a library into his ford and bring all thousand or so books along. Or at least, he's too lazy. -He's older than most hunters live to see. Basically, he's testing fate by living this long. -Interacting characters who he doesn't know to be a monster right off the bat will be subject to the "silver knife" and "holy water" tests. He carries both around. Naturally, he's reasonable about it... not going to go too well to test everyone in a hotel, but if you want to get in the room, he's going to damn well test you. Talthael Seraphim Angelic Faction Leader ---------------------------------------------- ”Heaven is in a state of war, and it needs a guiding hand if it’s ever going to go somewhere. Me, I wouldn’t mind being that hand.” ---------------------------------------------- Basics Height: 5’6 Age: Immortal (angelic) Gender: Genderless as he appears in his true form to all angels. Body Type: Extended Personality Slimy at best, a deceiver at worst, he likes to think he’s in charge - but in fact, his faction hasn’t been doing well lately, losing ground to Naomi and other influential leaders; being reduced to few angels remaining in his ranks. He tends to make things look like they are considerably better than they actually are. He thinks that the tablets will give him the ultimate upper hand in the battle for leadership. Backstory A senior angel just below the rank of Archangel, he has been an influential member of Heaven for many millennia - although he has lagged behind others, preferring to work in the background instead of being on the front line of affairs. His primary authority came in the form of Michael’s support and approval. As such, Talthael was almost entirely dependent on him, and lost ground in the mad rush for power in Heaven to Naomi and others, losing support of all Saraphim that had once been under his command. He now holds a legacy of being Michael’s pawn, five odd angels (albeit, one of them is actually fairly powerful when it comes to the run-of-the-mill angel), and a few loose artifacts that he picked up. It is now the main reason as to why he wants the Angel tablet - if he can get his hand on the most relevant tablet to heaven, his status will be boosted considerably. Family The Angels Other -He is the superior of Kaephypton. -His interactions will mostly be in heaven; there is a low chance of him doing things for himself. -He might send someone else in the form of a minor character to assist the cause. -He’s always been a slimy character, being distinctly independent from the archangels while appeasing them when possible. He’s not very popular with them as a result. -In terms of angelic faction leaders, he’s rather low on the scale. That said, he is a potent angel in his own right. This will consist of NPC's that are used to make particular interactions function that can be taken over by other players, killed, etc as they wish, and ones that I won't bother with a full CS because they were made for something specific (ie, a ghost created to give hunters a little something to do) that other players can't control. NPC's will be marked as such IC if I use them, so ya know what you can godmod. None at the moment.
558	12	28	578	130	I run the crossroads outside, Abyzu waved her wrist nonchalantly at Tod. It wasn't a lie, but she was purposefully omitting information from them. For now, at least. She glanced at Michael briefly before following his mention and chuckling. "Leviathan," she said hoarsely, watching the creature get up and follow the poor waitress, "and he's about to eat the pretty red-head."	RAGUEL ARCHANGEL OF JUSTICE, FAIRNESS, VENGEANCE, AND HARMONY "I LAY TO REST THE WICKED" "ASSBUTT" BASICS CHARACTER FULL NAME: Raguel NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Reggie HEIGHT: 5' 9" BODY TYPE: Mesomorph, athletic, bottom heavy. AGE: Appears about 26 GENDER: None; goes by "she" PERSONALITY: Raguel is just as clueless as most of her angel brethren, but she finds humanity more fascinating than most. She's particularly interested in their need for pleasure and self satisfaction. She's ruthless and righteous, like any good angel, but she secretly has a mind of her own. She hasn't met her prophet yet but she deeply wants to. She almost wishes something bad would happen to him/her so that she could appear to save the day. Her main traits are basically summed up in her title. Justice and Vengeance: she tries her very hardest to make sure everyone gets what they deserve. Fairness and Harmony: she loves conflict, but not stupid conflict, so she strives to keep order. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: God SIBLINGS: All angels EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Pamela Vander (the prophet she guards) HISTORY (OPTIONAL): None yet, I develop characters through roleplay. EXTRA INFORMATION: N/A ABYZU CROSSROADS DEMON "BOY, THERE ISN'T ROOM IN YOUR PANTS." (picture is.. under construction) BASICS APPEARANCE: short, fire engine red hair, red eyes, dark skin. CHARACTER FULL NAME: Abyzu NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Abby HEIGHT: 5' 9" BODY TYPE: Ectomorph, average AGE: Appears about 32 GENDER: None; goes by "she" PERSONALITY: Abyzu is the best employee Crowley could ever ask for. She's sadistic and hateful, her deals are always sealed quickly and quietly, and she enjoys pain. So much pain. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: N/A EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: N/A HISTORY: Abby takes the souls of children. Her power comes from these souls. EXTRA INFORMATION: She has a thing for flirting. PAMELA VANDER PROPHET OF THE LORD "WAIT.. WHAT?" (picture is under construction) BASICS APPEARANCE: Portly, short, mousy, silver hair, one green eye, one yellow eye, crooked smile. CHARACTER FULL NAME: Pamela Vander NICK NAME OR ALIAS: None HEIGHT: 5' 6" BODY TYPE: Mesomorph, skinny, out of shape AGE: 14 GENDER: Female PERSONALITY: Pamela is always very confused. She doesn't do very well in school and she has a hard time concentrating on one thing at a time. She has a habit of refusing to do things she doesn't want to. She's a little lazy and kind of selfish, but her heart is in the right place. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: Daren Vander (he won't be mentioned) EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Raguel (the Archangel who guards her) HISTORY (OPTIONAL): EXTRA INFORMATION: Pamela secretly got a tattoo of a half moon with a wolf's paw for her brother.
559	12	29	2,519	389	Dominique "Yeah... wait, that dude's a levvie? Oh shit, so that's what the weird reek meant..." Dom buried his face in his hands, chuckling at his own incompetence. His eyes stayed on the ancient creature, stare intensifying as he watched the leviathan follow the waitress to the back. "Looks like shit's about to go down. Or eaten. Good thing it's not us." he snorted. Dom sat up properly in his seat, pried his eyes away from the unfortunate girl, then leaned in towards the older demon. "So, word on the street is, there's this relic- 'Demon Tablet', to be precise." he said in a hushed tone. "Some oddball brought it up to me during one of our hunts and never have I ever been so eager to hear more about priceless knick-knacks. It's just not me, y'know? But anyway, dude said that all our information was engraved on that damn chunk of rock. Some 'Word of God' bullshit." emphasizing 'bullshit', Dom scoffed. "I don't ever wanna mess with that guy, daddy Lucy said it won't be any good for us. However, I think we have to. Now, the big deal is that if it were to land in, let's say a hunter's hands, that would mean the eradication of hundreds of us a day... aaand this is where we come in. It may sound like a long shot, but hey, almost everyone in Hell knows about it. So if we can't locate it anywhere, maybe at least someone else can. So what do you think? Why don't we contribute some elbow grease to the search? Imagine the feeling of having the right to brag about saving our kind! Oh and, actually saving our kind." he suggested enthusiastically. To be fair, he wasn't even sure if Paimon had heard most of it after having started the speech without ordering anything off the menu first.	.
560	12	30	1,568	52	Mayla had about given up hope that she would see someone walking down the street that would be willing to take in someone that looked like a dog. Everyone had been driving around in cars. There wasn't going to be anyone walking around this late at night. Especially when it was this cold. That was all till she found someone, finally, walking towards her. He seemed to be busy with his own mind. Tossing the cigarette bud away to start pulling out another one. Letting out a whimpering yell for help to the young man, getting his attention when he looked up and around to see where the noise had come from. Letting out yet another one finally got his attention to look at her directly. For a moment, they held each other's stare. She asking him for help, he wondering if she was just in his mind or if she was really sitting there, as shivering Pitbull pup. Seemingly abandoned and alone. After the third car passed. Ian put his cigarettes back into his pocket. Having made the decision that this poor thing looked like she needed his help. The shelters were all closed with how late it was. He just couldn't leave her sitting out here to freeze to death by the time morning rolled around, or to leave her out here to have someone else find her. Slowly he approached the dog, not in a million years would he ever think that she was a skinwalker, not no normal dog. Something did set off a warning flag when Mayla came right up to him. He quickly dismissed it as his warm hand softly petted her over to make sure that she wasn't injured.	IAN COSDEN HUNTER "Small tricks won't work on me... Sweetheart" "Dude!?! Really!?! Loosen up a little!!" Full name: Ian Cosden Alias: Jackson Wright Height: 5'11" Body type: Thin yet muscular Age: Just barely 22 Gender: Male MAYLA BETHELL SKINWALKER "Have you seen the world through the eyes of a dog??... No!! Then don't assume you know anything." Skinwalker form: Full name: Mayla Bethell Nickname: May Heigth: 4'11" Body type: Thin and a little lanky Age: 10 Gender: Female
561	12	31	179	5,683	Redmond slipped into the ladies bathroom ((Wait a minute?...)). He pulled a small vial of blood out of his side pocket and put it by the door. It was from the body that he was currently presenting himself as; it would be useful if he ever had a run in with a hunter, if only to fool them for a little while. He preferred a male body by nature, but he would shift into female form just so he could eat the other employees. Lunch time. He realized that eating her on the spot would make some noise, so he planned to knock her out for a little while and eat her after he took the appearance of the manager and shut down the diner. With his plan in mind, he snuck around the corner, staying low so she wouldn’t see him in the mirror. Not that she would anyways; her face was buried in her hands and she appeared to be having a mental breakdown. He stood back up when he was behind her at an angle. A few seconds later she finally looked up, surprise filling her face quickly. He smacked her cleanly on the side of the head so she wouldn’t start screaming. He winced as she fell solidly onto the floor, hitting her head again and knocking her out for good. Noise… he dragged her to a stall and positioned her on there. Don’t go away… he touched her shoulder, assuming her form and shrinking a little in size. If he wasn’t what he was, he would be very weak indeed… how does she survive in that crappy sized body? He didn’t even see muscle on it. He (or, as of now, she) went back out the door. She was glad that his power allowed her to copy clothes as well - that would be an annoying extra to deal with. Lets have a little fun… she considered going into the back and luring people, but there was a host of nasty beings to… what did they call it? Oh yeah, troll.	Redmond Drayer Surviving Leviathan ---------------------------------------------- ”Dick Roman fit his name in more ways than one. Now that he’s gone, I can do things the right way...” ---------------------------------------------- Basics Height: 5’6 Age: Immortal (first creation of God, so… fits the age rather well) Gender: Takes the form of a male. Body Type: Extended Personality Not the strongest of Leviathans, Redmond has always disagreed with Roman’s policy of senseless or even systematic assimilation of all into a single, controllable host. Redmond prefers chaos and lack of unity; something which makes it easier for him to act without those knowing. Unfortunately for him, he was one of the last of his kind to have been created and therefore one of the youngest; that leaves him at a disadvantage compared to others. However, with his old hated boss gone, he has explored new possibilities - including the expansion of his own inherent powers to include more… celestial representations. Not that this has worked yet, but he’s not going to give up. It’s rather difficult to stop him, so that has only helped to boost his confidence. He is more sadistic than other Leviathan‘s and may attempt to deliver beings expressing their powers in overly obvious ways (read: OP players) an “entertaining” first class ticket to his main course dinner plate. That said, he’s not stupid; he can cover his tracks well from the average hunter and can fool other beings that may or may not even know what he is. Backstory One of the last Leviathans to be created, he was more of a grunt power wise for the strongest of his kind, known as Dick Roman most recently. However, he always secretly despised how the others adhered to a policy of combining “Illuminati” style domination of others with dull feeding. Redmond liked chaos and picking his victims that had the most chance of realizing just where the threat would be coming from. Purgatory was his favorite place. It had all the chaos he could want; he was top of the food chain and enjoyed himself even as the others hated it. That made him the opposite of the other Leviathans when taken out of Purgatory by Castiel - he half-heartedly took up the side task of hunting and eating Castiel even as he was sent to take out others who were providing a fuss, such as the hunter Frank. Alas, he never met up with his goal, and tended to be elsewhere when the real action was happening. It did, however, save him from being one of those sucked to Purgatory by the death of Roman; he was far out of range and was one of the few to be left wandering the world. When he heard of Roman’s death, he hadn’t been so happy since he first discovered the nature of Purgatory. he went up in Alaska for a while, killing hunters and those who strayed off the trail, before picking up on the news of the “hot spot”, as the contacts who brought it to his attention called it. It was at that point that he decided to head to Fremont, the hotspot that had been called by his contacts “the big one” (at least, before he cleaned up loose ends and ate the said contacts…) Family If you’re Leviathan, you’re his brother (or sister?). Other -This character will be mostly killing NPC’s, but if you want to meet up with him in the course of roleplay to have the experience of fighting (and quite possibly dying to) a Leviathan, feel free. -If characters step way too out of line power wise or blatantly kill other player’s characters without any sort of advance warning or discussion, they might wake up (or turn around) to find a less than attractive mouth coming at them… -All normal ways to disable a Leviathan apply, and are a little more effective than on others if anything. At this point, nobody can make him “bib” because nobody has the authority. -The one known way to kill one isn’t something that’s going to happen in 5 posts. You can do it, just go with a little advance warning and make the path to death “logical” (as the supernatural universe can be). -To anyone who doesn’t know what he is, he is a monster (if they identify him as the killer). Keep in mind he can shapeshift to the form of those he touches, so one can lose the path without much difficulty (although I won’t make it stupidly impossible to track him, as that would just be boring roleplay). -his body looks like that of one of his particular favorite victims... -Yes, he can eat an Archangel. The above applies, though, and no Archangel will be eaten unless the GM steps in as God and destines my guy to mysteriously locate them to serve as a first course meal. Kaephypton Angelic Agent ---------------------------------------------- ”Without discipline, even the Angels can fall. Castiel taught us that.” ---------------------------------------------- (as of current host) Basics Height: 5’3 Age: Immortal (Among the first beings created by god, although younger than all Archangels) Gender: Identifies as male via his host. Body Type: Relatively fit, nothing special in that regard. Extended Personality The classic agent of heaven. He doesn’t understand just about any human convention to ever be created, having spent his time in heaven as more of a “poster child” and someone on hold, usually sent to 1v1 demons. He’s scornful of anyone who doesn’t uphold the highest of angelic ideals and feels dirty after a while of interacting with humans. He stands out like a sore thumb and tends to only identify demons and pursue them, or identify a tablet if he ever comes across one. His discipline is known across heaven, and to demons as well. Backstory <insert generic Angel life story here> The only thing to his existence that makes him stand out is his practice killing demons that heaven sends him to take out. He was sent to the mortal realm to find tablets by his superior, Talthael, who serves a small network of angels following the split in the Host’s leadership across various factions. He is, as of now, deemed “incorruptible” - the whole reason why he was sent in the first place. His life story was rather generic simply because he did everything he was supposed to, and not much more. The one thing in particular that is a soer subject is Michael, who he had looked up to as an idol until he vanished from Heaven. He holds a grudge gainst the winchesters and anyone who had connections with them, hear and far, fro their purpose in his fall. Family The angels. Other -He’s a practiced Demon killer. Anyone playing a demon must be extra careful to not bump into him, as he can identify demons very quickly (and demons are ultimately low on the scale compared to an angel). -He might be a comic relief character simply due to his complete old fashioned nature (the last time he interacted with humans was in the 1300’s, and still holds a “duel” mindset when it comes to solving disputes) and complete uselessness with modern technology. Anyone who introduces him to a computer better make a good impression, otherwise he might consider it a demon and hunt those too. -He’s not very friendly and especially nasty towards characters he feels are particularly sinful, and he has a good idea on the ones that genuinely are. -His angelic blade is specially designed to look like the kind used in the 1300’s. Characters should try not to laugh if he challenges them to a duel. -He has acquired his host by answering the prayer of a human businessman in his dreams. Nick Schaeffer Hunter ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ”I’m getting a little tired of being head-butted by overly horny ghosts that decided it was a good idea to bury their bones in a sealed coffin of concrete.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <Insert Applicable Image Here> Basics Height: 5’4 Age: 53 Gender: Male Body Type: Well kept up, yet feeling the years. Extended Personality His days in hunting have allowed him to meet a large variety of people and a possibly larger variety of ghosts, vampires, skinwalkers… you name it. He doesn’t get surprised by much and counts himself lucky for having lived as long as he has - about three friends of his remain that he had met in his early years. Many hunters would have died by now. He is somewhat paranoid and always checks his guests, but once they are confirmed and if they are friends, he has a softer, more fatherly side. Sometimes he ends up rambling, which tends to only stop when the other person brings him back on topic. He firmly considers the idea of “an innocent monster” a load of bullshit and says that even if one committed a good deed, they would have a considerably longer rap sheet of dark deeds to account for. He’s a good hunter with considerable knowledge, but isn’t close to being the fastest anymore and will likely find his end in not too long. Backstory Born into a hunting family, Shaeffer grew up in a paranoid household that only trusted those who had just been tested and were known as family friends. Everyone else could be taken as an enemy. Schaeffer started hunting with his father when he was only 16, learning the ropes and doing quite a bit of reading in the family library. When his father died, he managed to hunt down the werewolf who had killed him… but the events surrounding that showdown are unclear. Some say that the werewolf is still alive… After that, Schaeffer took a much more active role in hunting, forming a small group of associates, in which he tended to be the “lookup” guy (the one to read the books and figure out how to take <x> creature down). The group evolved into a small network, in which he met various hunters, such as Otis Yates. The original team had all died before Shaeffer was 45 years old. He now takes an interest in Fermont, as from what he had read out of his library… the tablets were a quite big dea, although rather vaguely described.. His goal is to retrieve them and then find a Prophet to translate them in order to “win” the previously thought unbeatable war against monsters. Family His father, Hendrick Schaeffer, died when his son was 20. He never knew his mother, Melissa Schaeffer. Other than that, he was an only child and didn’t have very much family. He did have an uncle, George Burnett, who was also a hunter until he died at 46 chasing down a Wraith. Other -He's not too strong in melee at this point, but knows quite a bit. -He won't be recalling word-for-word as he can't exactly load up a library into his ford and bring all thousand or so books along. Or at least, he's too lazy. -He's older than most hunters live to see. Basically, he's testing fate by living this long. -Interacting characters who he doesn't know to be a monster right off the bat will be subject to the "silver knife" and "holy water" tests. He carries both around. Naturally, he's reasonable about it... not going to go too well to test everyone in a hotel, but if you want to get in the room, he's going to damn well test you. Talthael Seraphim Angelic Faction Leader ---------------------------------------------- ”Heaven is in a state of war, and it needs a guiding hand if it’s ever going to go somewhere. Me, I wouldn’t mind being that hand.” ---------------------------------------------- Basics Height: 5’6 Age: Immortal (angelic) Gender: Genderless as he appears in his true form to all angels. Body Type: Extended Personality Slimy at best, a deceiver at worst, he likes to think he’s in charge - but in fact, his faction hasn’t been doing well lately, losing ground to Naomi and other influential leaders; being reduced to few angels remaining in his ranks. He tends to make things look like they are considerably better than they actually are. He thinks that the tablets will give him the ultimate upper hand in the battle for leadership. Backstory A senior angel just below the rank of Archangel, he has been an influential member of Heaven for many millennia - although he has lagged behind others, preferring to work in the background instead of being on the front line of affairs. His primary authority came in the form of Michael’s support and approval. As such, Talthael was almost entirely dependent on him, and lost ground in the mad rush for power in Heaven to Naomi and others, losing support of all Saraphim that had once been under his command. He now holds a legacy of being Michael’s pawn, five odd angels (albeit, one of them is actually fairly powerful when it comes to the run-of-the-mill angel), and a few loose artifacts that he picked up. It is now the main reason as to why he wants the Angel tablet - if he can get his hand on the most relevant tablet to heaven, his status will be boosted considerably. Family The Angels Other -He is the superior of Kaephypton. -His interactions will mostly be in heaven; there is a low chance of him doing things for himself. -He might send someone else in the form of a minor character to assist the cause. -He’s always been a slimy character, being distinctly independent from the archangels while appeasing them when possible. He’s not very popular with them as a result. -In terms of angelic faction leaders, he’s rather low on the scale. That said, he is a potent angel in his own right. This will consist of NPC's that are used to make particular interactions function that can be taken over by other players, killed, etc as they wish, and ones that I won't bother with a full CS because they were made for something specific (ie, a ghost created to give hunters a little something to do) that other players can't control. NPC's will be marked as such IC if I use them, so ya know what you can godmod. None at the moment.
562	12	32	1,568	52	Ian looked around quietly while resting a hand on Mayla's head. Searching around for someone else that might be a better choice to take the pup that was in front of him. Only turning his attention back to her when she let out a whining whimper mixed with the slight irritation that the boy was taking to long in decided on what he was going to do. What Ian didn't know was that it was too late for him to change his mind. Even if he got up to walk away, Mayla was dead set on following him wherever he was going so that she could have some kind of shelter for the night. Just so that she could figure out what she should do next. Ian sighed, "come here." Standing up while bending down to scoop up Mayla so that she didn't have to walk on her already frozen paws. When she was in his arms, he grunted while shifting around the unexpected weight that was now in his arms. "Holy shit!!" Mayla didn't react to it other than glaring absentmindedly over Ian's shoulder, putting her full dead weight into him to tell him that she wasn't as heavy as she could be. Making the boy fight to keep her in his arms and from slipping on the slush as he continued up the street. No longer having the idea of going to the diner, tonight, he was going to the store to pick up a few things so that the pup can eat something.	IAN COSDEN HUNTER "Small tricks won't work on me... Sweetheart" "Dude!?! Really!?! Loosen up a little!!" Full name: Ian Cosden Alias: Jackson Wright Height: 5'11" Body type: Thin yet muscular Age: Just barely 22 Gender: Male MAYLA BETHELL SKINWALKER "Have you seen the world through the eyes of a dog??... No!! Then don't assume you know anything." Skinwalker form: Full name: Mayla Bethell Nickname: May Heigth: 4'11" Body type: Thin and a little lanky Age: 10 Gender: Female
563	12	33	1,617	689	Micheal was as curious as a cat right now. With 3 demons, a Leviathan, and a now dead human in the residence, the night was shaping out to be a fun one and he hadn't even killed yet. Micheal was sure that what he was looking for was in this town, it would be ludicrous if it wasn't. Now all he had to do was find it and have some fun along the way. "So how are the hunting grounds in this town." Micheal asked while he ate his food. ______________________________________________________________________ Tom watched the two interact carefully, he didn't trust her one bit. Both him and Micheal had run-ins with demons in the past and they never ended well. Now the Taco Bell had three demons in it, and old as dirt Leviathan, and who knows what else that he had not noticed. Tom wanted to leave now but knowing Micheal they were bound to get into some kind of trouble before they leave.	Micheal Von Jence CHARACTER FULL NAME: Micheal Von Jence AGE, SPECIES: 459 years old, Fairy (Wicked Witch) NICK NAME OR ALIAS: MJ (The Witch Doctor) HEIGHT: 5'10 BODY TYPE: Toned, Slim AGE: Looks about 18 GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Micheal is a meticulous intellectual, the "scientist" of the fairy community. He is highly narcissistic and extremely flamboyant, tending to make lewd, disturbing comments about people he doesn't like. Micheal is quite sadistic, viewing others as little more than research material. He thinks poorly of humans, hoping someone will someday wipe them all out of existence. He thinks of himself as an actor, treating his battles like theatrical performances, especially when toying with his victims. FRIENDS AND FAMILY: N/A PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: Jon(Younger Brother), Anna(Older Sister) EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: Another Witch (good) named Alice, the only other one he can tolerate. HISTORY: Micheal was born at the start of the slave trade in the 16th century. He grew up in luxury and endless help. Everyone in his family are witches and he was no exception. As a child he would bully human children with his gifts and play endless tricks on his siblings. When he got older he learned to harness his gifts and became a fully fledged witch. He decided to live the life of a scientist and experiment on what ever he can. This is were his dark nature grew from. The only one who has ever seen the "good" side of him is his friend Alice. In his 300s he tamed an Arachne named Tod and they have been companions ever since. EXTRA INFORMATION: His 100 year old pet snake. Tom James CHARACTER FULL NAME: Tom James AGE, SPECIES: 200 years old, Arachne NICK NAME OR ALIAS: Tommy (The Golden One) HEIGHT: 6'2 BODY TYPE: Muscular, Toned, Rugged AGE: Looks about early 30s GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: Tom is an honest man. He has never been one to shy from the truth, and is always FRIENDS AND FAMILY: Micheal (his owner) PARENTS: N/A SIBLINGS: N/A EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A IMPORTANT OTHERS: His maker Jeana. HISTORY: Tom was turned when he was 30. He was at his birthday party and Jeana turned him as a "gift". He has been miserable ever since. Having to fed on humanity on a weekly basis and not having any support. At one point he even tired to become a wanderer. Going from place to place. Trying not to feed but failing miserably. He never truly let go of his human nature until he went south. Down in the south he met Micheal. At first he dismissed him as some rude punk but he never wold have thought he was a 200 year old fairy. He began to hang around Micheal even more and earned the name pest. Then one day he saved his life and Micheal rewarded him by buying him. He told Tom that in exchange for his life he would make sure he could be himself and never be lonely, and they have been together ever since. EXTRA INFORMATION: His makers spider type was, Black Widow, so he inherited the Gold Orb Weaver Genes. His maker Jeana. She can also be used an NPC.
564	13	0	54	1,340	An So We Begin The Convent Of The Sisters Of Light is pleading for help from the people of the realm. Our orphanage has been plagued with unique case of Cinder Sickness that all attempts to cure have failed. We have consulted both near and far and believe that we now know how to heal our poor children but we lack the strength to collect the ingredients we so desperately need. We are searching for strong and caring individuals to help save the lives of these innocent souls. Please contact Sister Agnes in the Village of Gorlton’s Apothecary for more information. We promise a great reward in exchange for the materials that we need. Messengers had been instructed to place these following notices both near and far throughout the realm in hopes that at least some would come. The messengers had left several days before and all had returned and informed the Convent that they had completed the task at hand. Sister Agnes, an old and devoted nun that was a member of The Convent Of the Sisters Of The Light paced the Apothecary Shop, slowly running her fingers along the folds of her habit. The children of the orphanage they looked after were sick and there was nothing that seemed to help. Cinder Sickness was usually a disease, though while painful, could be cured by a simple healing from a priest or priestess but this epidemic was different. They had been able to slow it but not cure it and the children were in pain. The disease started out as nothing more than a high fever but it quickly had progressed to tiny cinders and sparks coming from the childrens eyes and mouths. Some of the children that had had it longer had progressed to having small lesions on their skin that would have flames coming from them. They had even lost one that had been completely engulfed in flames as the disease reached its most dangerous state. Sister Agnes wondered how many more they would lose and it weighed heavily on her heart. The sisters had been able to locate the cause of the disease, a cult that had summoned a demon not far from the orphanage had caused the initial break out and thanks to a local religious order had been taken care of but a cure as of yet had not been found. Their only hope lay in an old manuscript that the old Apothecary had that spoke of a similar outbreak that had happened the century before but the ingredients for such a remedy were rare, so very rare and they were not something that would be easy to come by. Their only hope was that a group of adventurers would be willing to take on the task. The nuns of the convent were skilled in many things, fighting the wilderness was not one of them. “Think any will come?” Sister Agnes asked as she looked out of the window of the old shop and looked out over the town. The hour was early, the sun breaking over the horizon slowly. The village was quiet; only a few were up and moving about, starting their daily tasks. Beyond the village were fields and tree lines that formed the edge of a vast forest that surrounded the village and famers fields. Mountains could be seen off in the distance and every so often, from miles away, the smell of salt would waft into the village in the early hours of the morning from the Cove. “Give it time Sister,” the apothecary said as he looked up from the manuscript that held the ingredients that would need to be collected. He had spent the night writing the list over and over again on pieces of parchment to hand out to those that came along wanting to try to help. Sighing slightly as he looked at the list, these were not easy things to come by and they would need a full group to go through with this that could work well together. Some adventuring parties took years to trust each other and work well together. To find such groups were as rare as the ingredients themselves. He just hoped who ever came through the door and caused the little brass bell above it to ring as they entered would be up to the task. “Time is something we do not have much of,” she said as she stood there waiting, looking back out the stained glass window of the shop before turning away and wandering aimlessly through the room. Sana Rawn The sun had just begun to rise and the sky was still a cool blue as the first rays broke through the window of the rented room of the village inn. An irritated sound escaped Sanas lips as the light came into the room, turning her head she buried it against a rather large and defined chest as she pulled the covers over her head; a habit she had formed over the last couple of months of travel anytime the sun interrupted her sleep. “Make it go away,” she grumbled as she curled up closer to the large figure that was probably already awake lying next to her. The pair had arrived the night before rather late and the village was completely locked down save for the inn thankfully; Sana had tended to the horses as Hugh secured a room for them for the evening. They had caught the notice a town over after months of travel trying to escape a desert and some rather unsavory creations; together they decided they would check out what was going on and offer a hand. It would be nice to try to help some children instead of some megalomaniac in an area that could only be described as hell. Now there were somewhere lush and it was a welcome change to Sana; though she still swears that she will be picking sand out of pack for the rest of her life. By the time they got to the room Sana had barely managed to undress from her traveling gear before passing out at the foot of the bed. She was not sure how she had managed to end up using Hugh as a pillow but she figured he had moved her while she slept. Now the sun was disturbing that sleep and she was far from happy about it. She knew they needed to get up, get some food and head over to the Apothecary but she hadn’t even heard a rooster crow yet, so she figured she still had time. “Cock-A-Doodle-Wake-Yo-Butt-Up!” a rooster crowed from outside the window. “Son of a….” Sana mumbled as she pulled the covers tighter over her head.	Name: Hanzo Jibero Age: 26 Alignment: Lawful Neutral Race: Human Class: Monk Appearance/Clothing: Skills: Acrobatics Survival Historical & Religious Knowledge Climbing & Swimming Perception Emotion Reading Ki Manipulation Martial Arts, Grappling, & Throwing Natural Abilities: Has honed his body to its upper limits in durability and reflexes, and learned to how manipulate his Ki (spiritual energy); otherwise, he possesses no special abilities of note for a human. Magic/Spells: Ki Strike - A focused attack bolstered through Ki. Grants a chance for normal damage to penetrate armor and natural resistances. Can be charged for a slightly greater chance. Ki Blast - Hanzo channels Ki into his hands to throw out a bolt of raw energy that travels a short distance. Functions as a basic magical attack with a chance to penetrate physical armor (akin to Ki Strike), but must be charged to yield the proper effect initially. Ki Mending - A monk's own 'lay on hands' technique using Ki. Restores a bit of health and fights magical impurities. Additional Information: This monk hails from an old culture that bears worship to the spirit of nature, rather than any specific god. They bless the sun and the moon for giving them light, and the earth and its bounty for giving them life. A somewhat nomadic culture, these monks rarely established buildings or relics for anything beyond shelter, aiming to preserve nature as best as they could. This culture took up martial arts and the art of Ki manipulation as a means of defensing oneself without resorting to weapons or lethality, and to hone one's body and spirit to its greatest potential. Life was simple and peaceful, yet active and fulfilling. They took what they needed from nature and kindly returned what they did not, blessing all creatures that lost their lives as fulfilling a greater purpose. For Hanzo, this has since changed somewhat. Where he once could've wandered without ever getting lost, he now struggles to find a purpose in this new reality revealed to him. He has long since gotten over the culture shock of the developing world, however, and still finds himself traveling about, benefiting others where he sees fit. The wonder still remains, however, and the monk can't help but wish for a sign to reveal his own destiny. Equipment: Hanzo possesses no weapons besides his fists, but does wear a small medium of protective gear: leather bracers on his forearms and legs, and a belt with magical properties that reinforces his natural durability. Possessions: Something of a miser, Hanzo carries little gear or money on his person. He is always seens with his monk's clothing (see above), as well as a waterskin, a crest of his clan, and a ring of prayer beads. Should the need arise, the sash he wears can be improvised as a ten-foot rope. Personality: By nature, Hanzo is a respectful individual, treating others with kindness when he can see they deserve it. Through his experiences, however, the monk has learned to only really trust those he has discovered as righteous at heart, even if not always purely good. As such, he comes and goes in his travels, not often staying to maintain friendships but still holding them at heart. Getting to know Hanzo and sympathize with him can turn the monk into a faithful ally, even beyond an initial partnership. As a result of his less fortunate experiences, Hanzo bears a stern sense of justice, and is quite willing to help others in desperate need (for better or worse, at times). He tends to be straightforward, but also cautious and logical - not below fighting others to reach a solution, but wise enough to seek an alternate method. As a part of his vowing of respect as a monk, Hanzo will never willingly kill a fellow human/elf/etc, but when pitted against the 'inhumane' (monstrous creatures and truly sinful individuals) he will not share that grace. History: Hanzo was born naturally within a nomadic tribe of monks. As a youth, he was eager to learn their ways and trained hard to better himself. He found himself fitting in well with the culture, benefiting greatly from its teachings and giving him a fairly fulfilling life, at the time. Of course, some things have a tendency to change so very suddenly. As Hanzo's generation was beginning to reach their coming of adulthood, one girl was suddenly outcast from the monks in what had to be a first in their history. She had always been something of a quiet loner, but what put her off the edge was her possession and obsession with a unique steel knife abandoned in the forest. Though Hanzo was somewhat regretful of her suffering this fate, as he was one of the few people to show her kindness, he was ultimately made to pay it no mind. Disaster struck, however, when but a few moons later, the girl returned in the accompany of a legion of violent warriors. She had discovered that the knife was of their craft, and immediately became absorbed into their vastly differing knowledge. When she weaved a tale of being isolated and betrayed by her primitive family and clan, the battle-bred warriors were empowered to aid her in revenge. So began the crusade against Hanzo's clan, a long night of fire beneath a bloody moon. As fear and panic settled in, a still-young Hanzo was desperately urged to flee, even as family and friends alike were quickly slaughtered under the warriors' powerful weapons. Under the shadow of the forest, Hanzo managed to evade the clan's new enemies, and believed himself to be a solitary survivor. But while the fires still remained in sight, Hanzo was suddenly confronted by the girl, bloody knife in hand. Though she had initially spared Hanzo for the kinship he had offered, the murderer claimed to have dicovered a new way of life, driven by a far more powerful emotion: wrath. Seeing the monk feel his own brand of wrath, she offered him another chance, to channel and release this rage the only way she knew how. Hanzo refused, deciding she had more than lost her mind, and attempted to fight her in his anger. Their tango was brief but brutal, put to a painful end when the murderer was knocked headfirst into a collapse of burning branches, blinding her. He only regrets not having learned her name. The time following was harsh to Hanzo, not because he could not survive but because he had nobody else to survive with. He was alone, his family, friends, and culture all mercilessly slaughtered. Hanzo's outlook changed - it had to, if he was going to truly live any longer. The monk began to wander the world again, a world that seemed to so vastly change overnight, as he passed through many towns, kingdoms, and nations. He would help others as he deemed without compensation, all the while hoping to find some new sense of purpose as she had.
565	13	1	1,451	685	Fiona Fiona was most fond of traveling in the morning, while the air was cool and the wilderness was just beginning to wake up for the day. The towns and villages were still sleepy, people having yet to rise from their beds in droves to flood the streets with noise and activity. She'd always wanted to see the world, but learned quickly enough that she wasn't a city girl at heart, much preferring the peace of small villages, and the open road. Of course, she had a companion at the moment, a man who quite often disturbed that peacefulness. Tobias was quite the talker, a man who thought himself quite a bit more charming and handsome than he actually was, though Fiona had to admit that he did have his moments. While she was a bit negatively inclined towards him due to his less than honest qualities, the pair had built a rather odd little friendship, built off of their mutual assisting of one another about a week back. Fiona had encountered Tobias being hauled along the road by a trio of thugs, working for a local boss known as Green-Grin Greg. Not being one who let bandits freely drag people around, Fiona confronted them, and bested them in a quick fight, freeing Tobias. After learning a bit about the area from him, Fiona rather boldly made plans to deal with the local criminal, believing him to be weakened after losing some of his men. Her bravery, as she was learning, tended to venture into foolishness, and she found out quickly enough that she was no match for the bandit leader. Beaten soundly in a fight that was hardly fair, Fiona was taken prisoner, only able to escape through a clever lie spun by Tobias's silver tongue. They were an odd pair, vastly different of mindset but tenuous friends all the same, and Fiona had convinced Tobias to come along with her and help with this contract she'd originally been on her way to complete. He seemed sympathetic to the plight of the orphans, and the reward enticed him as well, she knew. "This should be the village," she remarked, pointing up ahead. "Gorlton's Apothecary. I wonder who else we'll meet." As far as she knew, the notice had been sent far and wide, and would likely draw some other interesting adventurers. Fiona was looking forward to meeting them, and learning a thing or two.	Name: Fiona Age: 22 Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Human Class: Fighter Appearance/Clothing: Reference 1, Reference 2. Fairly average height, with a lean and toned build. Fiery, wild red hair and light brown eyes, skin tone a fair, slightly pale coloration. Skills: Close combat fighting, speed and agility, moderate strength, excellent horseback riding skills. Proficient both armed and unarmed, moderate endurance for taking hits. Good at cooking with relatively little to work with, and while likely irrelevant, good at farming. Natural Abilities: None - Human Magic/Spells: None Armor: Roughly as seen in the image, some pieces of scavenged light plate, most effectively protecting her right arm. Weapons: Use reference 2 for example. A fairly standard curved longsword, lightweight but sturdy. She has a dagger sheathed on her left thigh for emergencies. Possessions: Little of note. Her clothes, weapons, armor, packs, supplies, basic medical items and personal belongings. Most of it kept in her horse's saddlebags. Personality: Fiona's bold and brash, often unafraid of things she probably should be, and in general a very confident and self-assured individual. Like any good adventurer she is both curious and brave, but also deeply selfless, not preferring to use the word 'mercenary' to describe herself, as this implies the coin is the end goal she works for. Mostly she just enjoys her life for what it is: a chance to explore, meet new people and see new things, and help wherever she can, with what skill she has. Though typically a loner, she doesn't turn down help when offered, and tries to work together with others as best she can. She's an inexperienced, terrible liar, preferring both her combat and her conversation upfront and uncomplicated. History: Fiona's story is a relatively simple one, starting with a family not important enough to even have a lasting name. She's simply Fiona, of the village of Drayden, a little farming community quite a ways from many large population centers. Fiona was an only child, and thus assisted a great deal around the farm, becoming strong and physically active as a result. Wandering adventurers inspired her even as a teenage girl, and her mind would not be swayed from eventually leaving the family farm to see the world. When they were eventually able to hire some help, she used what coin she had to purchase some basic equipment, and set out at age 19, blade in hand, hunting for contracts. Naturally, without the best of training or a good starting foundation of equipment and knowledge, Fiona struggled in her first few years, but learned from her mistakes, and has developed into a competent and even confident fighter, willing and able to take on problems the average person doesn't want to deal with.
566	13	2	2,649	479	Hugh found himself woken by a beam of light letting itself into the room and a smaller framed figure curling up next to him. He relaxed as this person snuggled up close to him, burying her head in his chest and complaining about the arrival of morning. He understood fully, but if it weren't for her being there in bed with him, he might be up and walking around. He was very much awake, as he had gotten some very good sleep the night before, and he had gotten very used to having the frame of Sana Rawn against him whenever he slept. He rolled his frame over, facing Sana, and letting her bury her head into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and let his chin rest on the top of her head, closing his eyes, and taking a slow breath in and out. He brought one hand up to her hair messing it up a little bit, not that it was in any particular style at the moment. They had been sleeping, after all. Hugh was looking forward to some kind of breakfast. Maybe fried chicken eggs with bread and cheese. Of course, that had been the meal he had made regularly while both of them were on the trail, though not chicken eggs, away from that hell hole down south. They needed to get away from people they could no longer stand the presence of and a war that had no purpose. Maybe the inn was making breakfast as they laid there, if that was even a thing for this town. After all, it would be wonderful. Breakfast in bed might be better, but Hugh didn't particularly like the idea of someone coming in the room and bothering him and Sana. That would go without saying, as he would feel very annoyed by someone bothering their intimacy. Pillows and any heavy objects within reach would surely find its way flying towards any intruders at whatever route they took to enter. For now, Hugh was enjoying this moment. It brought a smile to his face how annoyed she was by the light, but he had been no less perturbed by it when he awoke. Now he felt like he was protecting her from it. "Mmmmm, good morning sunshine." He chuckled at little after his words. He was not a morning person, but today he had been the first to wake up between the two of them.	Name: Hugh Van Halder Age: 45 Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Human Class: Fighter, Ex-Paladin Appearance/Clohing: He stands at 6'2", a tower of years of built up muscle. He wears a dark earthen blue tunic over a white linen three button pullover shirt. He wears a pair of black shorts(under his pants) and a pair of dark gray hosen(medieval style pants). He'll wear a chain mail shirt and these pauldrons additionally he'll wear leather knee and shin armor. He wears a small gray hood and a bear fur cloak. Skills: He is a good brawler and can fight with anything he can get his hands on(He's used bed rolls before). Horseback riding. Swordfighting, throwing axes, and two handed weapon fighting. He's been able to use crossbows before, but despises them, as they are delicate and take a lot of work just to reload. Bushcraft and survival stuff. Smoking(if that qualifies as a skill). Some cooking. Natural Abilities: He's strong and durable and can take a lot of beatings. He's pretty much a tank. He can drink a lot of alcohol and only get buzzed. Otherwise, he's just a normal human. Magic Spells: N/A Additional Information: He is in a relationship with Sana Rawn. He has a draft horse, named Rodger. Weapons: He wields a large crude looking battle axe and a falchion. Additionally, he has one small crude throwing axe. Possessions: A rucksack with jerky, bread, cheese, rags, spark rocks(basically one is made of magnesium), rope, ladle, cooking knife, two plates, and tobacco. He also has saddle bags on his horse, which he stores his pipe, more tobacco, sugar cubes, a brush, a stick and bow(which he uses for lighting his pipe), and a few salt licks. He has two water skins. One he keeps on his horse, and one on his person or in rucksack. Additionally he has a pot and a frying pan strapped down to the outside of his rucksack. He also wears a ring on a little chain around his neck and he never seems to take it off, as it was given to him by Sana. Personality: He is a more contented man, liking simple things in life, especially enjoying smoking his pipe with a wonderful scenery, usually in the form of a beautiful day and his love, Sana. He has a more realistic attitude towards the world, not being an idealist, only doing things to help. He has great respect for the natural order of things, and you won't find him trying to seek out revenge. He still has a fiery temper when it is stoked enough to come out. History: Hugh was once part of a great order of paladins. They had much land and ruled with wisdom. Their lands were prosperous and fertile. Many were jealous of their lands, but no one had the courage enough to take on the great and Noble order. Their paladins were fierce and formidable fighters. They all stood higher than 6' and were towers of muscle. They were truly terrifying men. But they were brought down under scandal. Fabricated accusations about them stealing their riches and enslaving other groups of people for labor. The scandals kept growing until they were set upon by every surrounding nation. They stood no chance. Many were killed, only a few escaped. They have been long since forgotten, after being hunted for almost two decades, and killed off, until it was concluded that they were finally extinct. Hugh hid among tribes of barbarians to survive. The tribe was good to him, making him one of their own. He had built a life of simplicity. Some warring between other tribes would often end with them being brutalized and then integrated. Hugh had found love in a woman taken from one of the defeated tribes. He had a few sons and lived very happily with her, until they were set upon by a purge of the "savages". Hugh's tribe was wiped out and he was orphaned once again. He had brutally killed all the "civilized" army he could, but it was too late. His tribe was all gone, along with his family. He became a wanderer, and left to find life as a mercenary. In that life, he found an adventure awaiting him in a tavern. The tavern was filled with life, when he came in and joined up with a questing group. There he met a gypsy woman by the name of Sana. He got to know her going on this random little adventure with this party. It was all rather simple and jovial at first, until they were all taken captive by a lich. This lich tried to take Sana from them, and in that moment Hugh only felt desperation and rage. He had slowly begun to realize that he had fallen in love with Sana, and that if he lost her nothing would change about his existence as a wandering mercenary, and he would simply keep losing people he deeply cared about. So he took a chance at love, and broke out of his cage in a fit of rage. He fought like a lion to get to Sana, finally winning out(love triumphs over all!) against the hordes of undead after his party came to his aid. Since then, he's been a contented old soul, taking care of Sana and showing her his love for her, even though he has never said the words.
567	13	3	2,489	654	Tobias stepped up next to his companion to observe the village in front of them, a yawn escaping from his mouth. A lot of things perplexed him about Fiona - her blind trust, her foolhardiness, her bizarre sense of moral imperative, how her hair seemed to always look good even if she was tramping through the woods or swordfighting bandits - but her penchant for traveling in the morning was one thing he felt he would absolutely never understand. Truth be told, he couldn't put a finger on why he'd even followed the girl to this place. It wasn't like he owed her anything - she'd saved his life, he'd saved hers. Square. That would have been the end of it, if it weren't for all the damned 'conscience' feelings that came from the thought of sick orphans and his 'friend' on her own. Feelings were always making his life difficult. The thief surveyed the village before him briefly before nodding sharply. "I don't trust it. Too quiet and nice looking. Demon cults, definitely demon cults. Most of the people are probably part demon. Especially the ones who're polite, they're the demony ones. I bet they have organized crime, too. You could cram an entire gang war in a corn field. I've seen it happen." The thief stalked off to pick up his bags. "Also, I still think this 'job' is a trap and we're both going to die. Just so we're clear on that. That's still where I am." Shouldering his possessions, the rogue set off towards the village, grinning widely. "Your turn on the horse, Angel of War. Let's get on with it."	Name: Tobias Age: 22 Alignment: Chaotic Good-ish Race: Human Class: Thief Appearance/Clothing: Skills: Bluff, Acrobatics, Charm, Athletics, Sneak, Theft, Streetwise, Knife-Wielding, Knife-Throwing. Natural Abilities: The power of average-ness. Magic/Spells: Not a scrap of it. Additional Information: Tobias isn't the strongest fighter, being far more suited to running, hiding, or bluffing his way out of situations (he's capable by normal person standards, of course - just not really what you'd expect from an adventurer). He's also a massive pathological liar with trust issues a mile wide. Weapons: He has three knives - one on his belt, one on his back, and one in his boot. Possessions: Leather armor, basic adventuring supplies (rope, flint and steel, etc.). His hood is enchanted to make it very hard for someone who sees him with it up to remember his face. He also has a magic grappling hook enchanted to not make a sound. Personality: Tobias is glib, smart-alecky, cowardly, and tries his absolute best to be self-centered. Though he'd feverishly deny it, he's a fundamentally good person underneath the assumed selfish. He tries not to let anyone get close to him, and often uses snark and flat out lies as armor in social interaction. History: Getting the truth out of him about his personal history is extraordinarily difficult, but it's possible to determine that he's an orphan who grew up on the streets and has spent his life so far living in cities and alternating between pickpocket, con-man and cat burglar in order to survive. Also, hai Kronshi. Funny meeting you again. :p
568	13	4	677	1,382	The road always seemed longer when a destination was in sight, Hanzo had noticed. It was the anticipation of reaching the landmark, observing what it held and seeing what new things there was. The monk would be lying if he said he didn't approach this with a bit of apprehension, not just in not knowing what to expect, but in that whatever he found could assail him. Not that it was a thing that frequently happened, but it didn't stop Hanzo from dreading it. Things could just change so instantly... The town itself was not a place that particularly stood out, in terms of construction. It was a simple village adjusted to the temperate climate of the northern areas, boasting a small bounty of farmland and their own local monastery. What was of note, however, were the events that took place here: a mysterious outbreak of the so-called Cinder Sickness. The apothecary lacked the necessary ingredients to fashion a cure, and could not spare the manpower to seek them out themselves; they hailed adventurers far and wide to come to their aid and help create a cure for the Cinder Sickness. Naturally, being the willing and empathetic soul he was, Hanzo endeavored himself to help. It was no matter for him to travel the distance to get here, but when looking to take on a job like this, Hanzo always found himself buffeted with a burden of time, or the seeming lack thereof, rather. That's one thing that never changed - needing to travel more rapidly when time was of the essence always felt strangely unnatural to him. Regardless, the monk had made it to the village in due time, with the first glimpses of the sun's face peeking out over the eastern horizon. Already a select few others were up and about, either going about their routine duties or seeking out the apothecary offering the critical job. Hanzo himself decided to spare a bit of time to lounge about in the village briefly, to give himself a view of this place for memory. At least, if he would come to need anything in preparation after taking on the job, the monk could learn where to find it.	Name: Vaeri Dryearurdrenn Age: 143 Alignment: Lawful Good Race: Elf Class: Cleric/Barbarian Appearance/Clothing: Vaeri is an innocent looking elf, standing at about 5' 7" (170 cm) with long, straight raven hair that extends down to the base of her back, pale skin and bright blue eyes. At a glance she's quite beautiful with full lips, a small button nose, thin eyebrows and high cheekbones, when one takes a closer look, several tiny scars are visible all over, disfiguring her otherwise graceful looks. Likewise, Vaeri's exposed flesh, the rare times one can see them initially appear smooth and untouched, but upon closer inspection are covered in scars and barely contain wiry muscle below. Vaeri dresses as a lady of the cloth should, with a dark blue full body cloak. The fabric is adorned with intricate patterns in white to provide visual contrast and indicating her status as a clergywoman. Around her neck and outside the cloak, Vaeri wears a necklace bearing the holy symbol of her god. However, underneath the cloak is a full set of leather armor, battle ready and kept in top shape at all times. Skills: Sense Motive, Knowledge (Religion), Knowledge (Nature), Climb, Jump, Sleight of Hand, fletching arrows, surviving out in the wild Natural Abilities: Keen senses, the ability to see better than humans in low light Magic/Spells: Heal: can decide how good this is Tongues: Allows the caster to speak any language for the duration of the spell Turn Undead: Vaeri can attempt to make Undead flee from her presence temporarily. Powerful Undead can resist this. Divine Might: Holy power infuses the caster, temporarily making them more powerful and resilient Flame Strike: Smites foes with holy flames Additional Information: Vaeri worships Menhit, lion-goddess of War. (Fun fact her name means She who massacres) Weapons: Vaeri carries a shortbow and a two-handed battleaxe Possessions: Vaeri carries a backpack that can hold more than you think it would and what Vaeri wants from the bag will always be at the top (the item in question must have been put in the bag beforehand for this to work). Inside the bag are her necessities (tent, rope, bedroll, tarp for the tent, soap, cooking utensils, oil, a lamp, flint and steel), holy texts, and about 2 weeks worth of rations. She also has a coin purse with about 20 gold pieces in it. On her hip is a quiver with 20 arrows. Personality: To strangers, Vaeri appears to be a gentle elf, always keen to help those in need and be a travelling force of good in the world. However, as you get to know her, slowly she morphs into an entirely different person, brash, head-strong and a braggart, this true face of Vaeri shows exactly why she worships the goddess she does. The elf loves battle of all kinds and will gleefully jump into battle whenever she can. History: Vaeri grew up in a forest village mostly populated by other elves to a carpenter. IN her childhood, she began learning the bow as all children did. Her prowess with weaponry was admired just as much as her excessive enthusiasm for using them was worrying. One day while out hunting alone she was overcome by a vision of the lion-goddess Menhit who commanded Vaeri to go out into the world and find a man with two right hands. After this experience, Vaeri began following the goddess of war and has dedicated her life to this mission. The cleric has been following this notice for strong adventurers as a possible lead for locating this mysterious man.
569	13	5	54	1,340	Apothecary Shop Sister Agnes continued to pace through the shop and the shop keeper continued to write out the transcripts as they waited. The soft chime from the brass bell echoed through the silent room as the door opened and the nun spun around on her heels to see who was entering. She hoped that it would be someone answering the ad. Tilting her head to the side as she saw the woman she wondered if she was just there as a normal patron or if there was more too her. The old man behind the main counter looked up and placed his quill back in the well before clearing his throat. “Welcome to the Apothecary shop of Gorlton. I am the Apothecary Wylsen, what can I do for you today?” he said in a cheerful tone as righted himself from his hunched position. Sana Sana pulled herself closer to Hugh, hiding under the sheets as he shifted position; lacing her legs with his as she did so. As he messed with her hair she smirked and bit his chest playfully. “You’re gonna mess up my beautifully styled bedhead!” she hissed but she wasn’t upset, well she was but it wasn’t at Hugh. Right now she wanted to put an arrow right through the roosters’ vocal cords and half wished Vivian was there with one of her annoying darkness spells to get rid of the sun. At least where she was she wouldn’t trip and fall on anyone. As he said good morning to her, she tilted her head back and slowly pulled her head from beneath the blankets and grumbled. “Morning..” she said before she yawned and pulled the back of her hand over her mouth to cover it before tucking the sheet proper under her arm to cover her chest as she rolled onto her back and stretched slightly, arching her back deeply. As the rooster crowed again she narrowed her eyes and stormed out of bed, taking the sheet with her as she wrapped it around herself and walked over to the window to see if she could locate the beast that had dared interrupt her sleep. Seeing it she looked down and spotted a rock that had been lodged in her boot from the day before travels and picked it up, a cold smile coming across her features. Taking aim she flung the rock like she was skipping it on a pond. “Bwak!” the rooster called out as it struck him in the back end near the base of its tail feathers and ran off, half flying as it did. Sana laughed slightly, “HA!” before shutting the window and pulling down the shade so she could get dressed without having to worry about anyone seeing her. Turning she had a look of amusement on her face and nodded. “There, the bastard has been vanquish!” she said before giving herself a pat on the back and wandering over to the bed; sitting down on the edge. “Guess we need to get dressed and find some food.”	Name: Hanzo Jibero Age: 26 Alignment: Lawful Neutral Race: Human Class: Monk Appearance/Clothing: Skills: Acrobatics Survival Historical & Religious Knowledge Climbing & Swimming Perception Emotion Reading Ki Manipulation Martial Arts, Grappling, & Throwing Natural Abilities: Has honed his body to its upper limits in durability and reflexes, and learned to how manipulate his Ki (spiritual energy); otherwise, he possesses no special abilities of note for a human. Magic/Spells: Ki Strike - A focused attack bolstered through Ki. Grants a chance for normal damage to penetrate armor and natural resistances. Can be charged for a slightly greater chance. Ki Blast - Hanzo channels Ki into his hands to throw out a bolt of raw energy that travels a short distance. Functions as a basic magical attack with a chance to penetrate physical armor (akin to Ki Strike), but must be charged to yield the proper effect initially. Ki Mending - A monk's own 'lay on hands' technique using Ki. Restores a bit of health and fights magical impurities. Additional Information: This monk hails from an old culture that bears worship to the spirit of nature, rather than any specific god. They bless the sun and the moon for giving them light, and the earth and its bounty for giving them life. A somewhat nomadic culture, these monks rarely established buildings or relics for anything beyond shelter, aiming to preserve nature as best as they could. This culture took up martial arts and the art of Ki manipulation as a means of defensing oneself without resorting to weapons or lethality, and to hone one's body and spirit to its greatest potential. Life was simple and peaceful, yet active and fulfilling. They took what they needed from nature and kindly returned what they did not, blessing all creatures that lost their lives as fulfilling a greater purpose. For Hanzo, this has since changed somewhat. Where he once could've wandered without ever getting lost, he now struggles to find a purpose in this new reality revealed to him. He has long since gotten over the culture shock of the developing world, however, and still finds himself traveling about, benefiting others where he sees fit. The wonder still remains, however, and the monk can't help but wish for a sign to reveal his own destiny. Equipment: Hanzo possesses no weapons besides his fists, but does wear a small medium of protective gear: leather bracers on his forearms and legs, and a belt with magical properties that reinforces his natural durability. Possessions: Something of a miser, Hanzo carries little gear or money on his person. He is always seens with his monk's clothing (see above), as well as a waterskin, a crest of his clan, and a ring of prayer beads. Should the need arise, the sash he wears can be improvised as a ten-foot rope. Personality: By nature, Hanzo is a respectful individual, treating others with kindness when he can see they deserve it. Through his experiences, however, the monk has learned to only really trust those he has discovered as righteous at heart, even if not always purely good. As such, he comes and goes in his travels, not often staying to maintain friendships but still holding them at heart. Getting to know Hanzo and sympathize with him can turn the monk into a faithful ally, even beyond an initial partnership. As a result of his less fortunate experiences, Hanzo bears a stern sense of justice, and is quite willing to help others in desperate need (for better or worse, at times). He tends to be straightforward, but also cautious and logical - not below fighting others to reach a solution, but wise enough to seek an alternate method. As a part of his vowing of respect as a monk, Hanzo will never willingly kill a fellow human/elf/etc, but when pitted against the 'inhumane' (monstrous creatures and truly sinful individuals) he will not share that grace. History: Hanzo was born naturally within a nomadic tribe of monks. As a youth, he was eager to learn their ways and trained hard to better himself. He found himself fitting in well with the culture, benefiting greatly from its teachings and giving him a fairly fulfilling life, at the time. Of course, some things have a tendency to change so very suddenly. As Hanzo's generation was beginning to reach their coming of adulthood, one girl was suddenly outcast from the monks in what had to be a first in their history. She had always been something of a quiet loner, but what put her off the edge was her possession and obsession with a unique steel knife abandoned in the forest. Though Hanzo was somewhat regretful of her suffering this fate, as he was one of the few people to show her kindness, he was ultimately made to pay it no mind. Disaster struck, however, when but a few moons later, the girl returned in the accompany of a legion of violent warriors. She had discovered that the knife was of their craft, and immediately became absorbed into their vastly differing knowledge. When she weaved a tale of being isolated and betrayed by her primitive family and clan, the battle-bred warriors were empowered to aid her in revenge. So began the crusade against Hanzo's clan, a long night of fire beneath a bloody moon. As fear and panic settled in, a still-young Hanzo was desperately urged to flee, even as family and friends alike were quickly slaughtered under the warriors' powerful weapons. Under the shadow of the forest, Hanzo managed to evade the clan's new enemies, and believed himself to be a solitary survivor. But while the fires still remained in sight, Hanzo was suddenly confronted by the girl, bloody knife in hand. Though she had initially spared Hanzo for the kinship he had offered, the murderer claimed to have dicovered a new way of life, driven by a far more powerful emotion: wrath. Seeing the monk feel his own brand of wrath, she offered him another chance, to channel and release this rage the only way she knew how. Hanzo refused, deciding she had more than lost her mind, and attempted to fight her in his anger. Their tango was brief but brutal, put to a painful end when the murderer was knocked headfirst into a collapse of burning branches, blinding her. He only regrets not having learned her name. The time following was harsh to Hanzo, not because he could not survive but because he had nobody else to survive with. He was alone, his family, friends, and culture all mercilessly slaughtered. Hanzo's outlook changed - it had to, if he was going to truly live any longer. The monk began to wander the world again, a world that seemed to so vastly change overnight, as he passed through many towns, kingdoms, and nations. He would help others as he deemed without compensation, all the while hoping to find some new sense of purpose as she had.
570	13	6	1,451	685	Fiona couldn't help a laugh. She'd found Tobias's excessive compliments rather annoying at first, and while she still wasn't too fond of them, she had to admit that they were a little endearing. She certainly wasn't going to tell him that, though. She watched cautiously as he dismounted; she'd thought for sure that it would take longer for her horse to open up to him, but he seemed to be doing well. She didn't know whether to be impressed or annoyed by that. "Not everything is wicked and evil, you know," she commented, smoothly pulling herself up onto her horse. "I happen to think this looks like a nice village. A little like home, and where I'm from, no one is part demon. We'll be fine." She knew she could be a bit uninformed at times, blindly rushing ahead when her confidence got the better of her. Perhaps naïve was even the right word. Tobias had seen it for himself, when they met, but right now she felt certain about being relaxed. This was a good cause, for good people, and it even had a good reward tied to the end of it for Tobias to look forward to. "Let's stop by the apothecary first. We can get something to eat afterwards." They'd had a meager breakfast, and she had some food leftover, but now that they were in a village again they could likely find something better to eat. Business came first, though. Fiona pulled her horse to a stop outside of the shop, dismounting and leading the way inside, where she found the apothecary greeting an elven woman. She waited until she knew she wasn't interrupting anything, and then introduced herself. "Hello. Tobias and I are here about the notice, regarding the cinder sickness. My name is Fiona."	Name: Fiona Age: 22 Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Human Class: Fighter Appearance/Clothing: Reference 1, Reference 2. Fairly average height, with a lean and toned build. Fiery, wild red hair and light brown eyes, skin tone a fair, slightly pale coloration. Skills: Close combat fighting, speed and agility, moderate strength, excellent horseback riding skills. Proficient both armed and unarmed, moderate endurance for taking hits. Good at cooking with relatively little to work with, and while likely irrelevant, good at farming. Natural Abilities: None - Human Magic/Spells: None Armor: Roughly as seen in the image, some pieces of scavenged light plate, most effectively protecting her right arm. Weapons: Use reference 2 for example. A fairly standard curved longsword, lightweight but sturdy. She has a dagger sheathed on her left thigh for emergencies. Possessions: Little of note. Her clothes, weapons, armor, packs, supplies, basic medical items and personal belongings. Most of it kept in her horse's saddlebags. Personality: Fiona's bold and brash, often unafraid of things she probably should be, and in general a very confident and self-assured individual. Like any good adventurer she is both curious and brave, but also deeply selfless, not preferring to use the word 'mercenary' to describe herself, as this implies the coin is the end goal she works for. Mostly she just enjoys her life for what it is: a chance to explore, meet new people and see new things, and help wherever she can, with what skill she has. Though typically a loner, she doesn't turn down help when offered, and tries to work together with others as best she can. She's an inexperienced, terrible liar, preferring both her combat and her conversation upfront and uncomplicated. History: Fiona's story is a relatively simple one, starting with a family not important enough to even have a lasting name. She's simply Fiona, of the village of Drayden, a little farming community quite a ways from many large population centers. Fiona was an only child, and thus assisted a great deal around the farm, becoming strong and physically active as a result. Wandering adventurers inspired her even as a teenage girl, and her mind would not be swayed from eventually leaving the family farm to see the world. When they were eventually able to hire some help, she used what coin she had to purchase some basic equipment, and set out at age 19, blade in hand, hunting for contracts. Naturally, without the best of training or a good starting foundation of equipment and knowledge, Fiona struggled in her first few years, but learned from her mistakes, and has developed into a competent and even confident fighter, willing and able to take on problems the average person doesn't want to deal with.
571	13	7	290	1,247	Mortosh walked his skirt dragged behind him he stopped and stared at the village in front of him he looked around and saw a sign and "Welcome to" (That Odd the name seems to have been Scratched off) "Zam Wake Up We Have Arrived" Feeling his shoulder Pocket shift he stared and Saw Zam's Head pop up out of her hidey hole her eyes hidden behind her Bangs (If i Had A Heart It Would Have Died twice Right Now) Mortosh Thought as he began to walk into town "Morty did you really have to wake me up i was having the most amazing dream ever" said Zam as she looked up at the void where his face should be "The One About The Land Of Sugar And Cake?" Zam Nodded in conformation "YEAH!!!"if The town people weren't giving the duo odd look before they sure as Trew and his love the Undead where giving them now "Not So Loud Zam People are Staring At Us" "Let them Stare Mort they don't know that they are dealing with GREATEST HEALER OF ALL TIME" Zam Yelled at the Towns Folk With a Non existence sigh and a chuckle Mortosh gave up trying to calm her down "If You Don't Stop That Yelling Your Not Getting Your Sugar Cube" Zam looked at him with shock "Your lying" She accused "There Only One Way To Find Out Now Ask That child Where The Apothecary Shop Is Zam" She Flew out of her Hole and asked the child where shop is "She says it that way" Zam Pointed Straight Ahead "now Where is my sugar Mort?" Mortosh walked in the direction that Zam Was Pointing to "You'll Get It When Reach The Shop" "I better" Zam Said As she lowered herself back into her hole and Mortosh just Continued walking towards the shop	Name: Mortosh Celjust and Zam Mano Age: last time he counted 696 (Zam is 200 a kid by her races standard) Alignment: Chaotic Good (Zam is Neutral Good) Race: undead but more specifically a Skeleton (Zam is a Petal For more information on those look for them on page 120 of monster manual III) Class: Cleric (Zam doesn’t really have a class as she is supposed to act as an item much like boo from Baldur’s gate) Appearance/Clothing: Mortosh wears an enchanted blue hood that obscures his entire face making appear as a black void with blue lights wear his eyes should be this is to hide his skull. He wears an iron chest plate with iron gauntlets his legs are hidden by a long blue skirt and iron boots (Zam’s Skin is light blue her hair is a darker shade of blue her bang cover her eyes she wares gray cloth dress her wings are the same color as her skin) Skills: For Mortosh it is Hide Diplomacy Knowledge (religion) Survival Heal ( For Zam it is Bluff and Gather Information Knowledge (nature) as Zam doesn’t actually have class I decided that it would be op to give her any more skills Natural Abilities: Undead-Life: as an undead you are immune to age effects and disease. Unbreakable: An undead has no death ticks. Undead appetite: The Undead are able to use the undead appetite encounter power. (Zam) Lullaby: Any creature within a 20-foot-radius that fails a DC 14 Will save is affected as though by a lullaby spell. A creature that successfully saves cannot be affected again by that petal’s lullaby song for 24 hours. The save DC is Charisma-based. Magic/Spells: Remove Fear: Suppresses fear or gives +4 on saves against fear for one subject + one per four levels Create Food and Water: Feeds three humans (or one horse)/level. Bless: Allies gain +1 on attack rolls and saves against fear Calming Embrace: By placing his hands on friends, or foes restores Mortosh will restore a bit of health as calm down bersekers Insect Plague: Locust swarms attack creatures (Zam) Chatter: A spell created by Zam And Mortosh To allow Zam to speak for Mortosh Calm Emotions: Calms creatures, negating emotion effects Light: Object shines like a torch lie. Additional Information: he is a cleric of Trew Barton The god of joy and undeath. The lack of a lower jaw makes it hard to speak so Zam usually translate for him she also sits on his shoulder. Mortosh sometimes will be overwhelmed with greed causing him steal without thought this has caused him to land into a whole heap of trouble in the past. Weapons: A Simple mace (Zam Like most of her race doesn’t carry a lethal weapons but she dose carry a blow gun which she uses to shoot darts laced with sleeping powder she doesn’t use this very often due to the ingredients used in the sleeping powder are quite rare) Possessions: Mortosh Carries a shrunken zombie around his neck (Zam Owns Shinobue a Side blown flute) Mortosh has a jar full of flower that he carries around for Zam he carries it around for so she doesn't faint from hot or thick air EDIT: Three vials of Moderate Inflict Wounds Personality: Mortosh is a very friendly Skeleton he is calm and hard to anger but his years of lacking the capability of speech has damaged his social skills quite badly which can make him come off as insensitive. while he is perfectly of take on offensive role he dose fell uncomfortable hurting others be they man or beast but he will not complain if fighting is necessary.(Zam is quite battle hungry once again by her races standard anyway she can’t really stand the thought of staying in one place to long she also has obsession with sugar give her some and shell be your friend for life ironically this is not the reason way she follows Mortosh) History: 696 Years ago Mortosh rose from his grave no memory of his past life the only thing he remembered was his cleric training Mortosh spent a good chunk of his first fifty years searching for his past to no avail Realizing that trying to search for a past that he no idea about or even the reason why he was searching so he gave up on searching and decided to just travel why? He didn’t know back then but now he know he was looking for purpose and he found it when he encountered a necromancer and a follower of Trew. He spoke to Mortosh and told him about Trew. Mortosh was intrigued with Trew so asked the necromancer how he could show his loyalties to Trew and the necromancer handed him the shrunken head. Confused Mortosh asked the necromancer about the head and he told him that the head was the symbol of Trew then he requested that Mortosh would spread the massage of Trew. Mortosh accept the his request but before he went he realized one thing. He would be run out of any village or town before he even toke his first step so asked the necromancer to enchant his hood so it would only show a void. So The necromancer enchanted Mortosh’s hood so with his enchanted hood on Mortosh thank the necromancer and went on his to spread the word of Trew and that how he spend his next two hundred years spreading the word that was until he angered a zealous paladin who broke his jaw to pieces. With no jaw all his words came out as mumbling so not being able to spread the word he turned to learning healing magic so he spent the next hundred years learning. this was around the time that Zam was Born two hundred years ago Zam was. Born in to a tribe of petals a race of tiny fey creatures she was treated well enough but she was still an outcast among her race she wasn’t as talented in art as the rest of her race. So she turned to other thing like spellcraft this is what taught her to speak all other tongues she would later encounter Mortosh when he would save her from a plague walker. Mortosh Seeing that Zam had gotten hurt would go on to heal all her wounds. Grateful for his deed Zam asked him what she could do for him. Mortosh lowered his hood and showed her his lack of lower jaw and he needed someone to speak for him as she was the only one that understood what he was saying she agreed and they have been traveling ever since
572	13	8	1,533	1,707	Deep in the mountains there was a horse. It was black in nature with spurs of white in its fur. Currently the beast was tied to a tree, this tree was rather close to a cavern, which was known to the villagers to be the home of a beast of a rather unknown nature. The villagers knew that it had large fangs, which it had used to rip sheep in two or tear into fences or trees and any manner of other things they had around their villages. This was the job, a job which was taken on by a rather mysterious wizard. The townspeople called him mysterious, well, any wizard was mysterious to them, but this one seemed different compared to the rest that they had met in the past. He didn't care what they paid him and he didn't seem to care what they had wanted him to do. They knew that a wizard had been slaying monsters in this region, they figured that it was him. The rumors said that he never bargained and haggled with the price for a job and was completely willing to take a pay cut. Sometimes he didn't even go to the people that offered the job, he would just slay it. Meanwhile in the cavern... There was a cloaked man lying on the rocky ground unconscious. Him and his cloak sprawled about, his staff was a few feet away. It appeared that he'd been knocked out. Or that is what it would appear as if there wasn't a monster, also, unconscious on the other end of the cavern, about thirty feet away. In front of the wizard was a dissipating, glowing, appendage - his source of light. "Arg... It would appear that we knocked each other out simultaneously." The whipery voice came from the, now conscious, man the man was stirring. He clambered to his feet. "Just in the nick of time, I was almost too slow. My Arm of the Heavens was just swift enough to strike him as he struck me. I presume we were both knocked out." He said all of this aloud for some reason. I shouldn't have spoken aloud His reasoning was quickly realized. The monster began to stir. "Blast, I knew it wouldn't be enough. I'll have to try it... Though, it may not work. I don't know how hard it's skin... armor is." He didn't have time to consider the possibilities, he recovered his staff. The monster had already regained its footing. It's fast... The monster was about twelve feet tall and could move incredibly fast for it's size, so fast that it is hard to really get a good look at it until it stops completely. Either way, it was coming now, bearing it's fangs and enormous claws. Melvus shot his hand out, the arm had dissipated completely by now, from it erupted an arm of pure light. It seemed to catch the monster off guard, it slowed down slightly. Melvus shot across the cavern as the arm grabbed part of the wall and pulled him along at an incredible speed. The monster hit the wall... No, it turned, the dust was from it changing direction. The arm had dissipated again, Melvus held his staff up, from it launched a shining spear, it shattered into many tens of smaller spears, the monster brought it's arms up as it charged, the spears didn't seem to have an effect. Melvus brought his staff into both of his hands and from his right hand shot an arm of light, bracing him against the wall, in less than a second he was hit. When the dust settled the image was of a cloak wearing wizard, holding a staff up with a glowing hand against the wall behind him. In front, no, on top of him was a monster which was much larger than he. His staff held its mouth at bay and there were ethereal swords around him, many of which held the beast's claws in place.	Removed
573	13	9	677	1,382	Vaeri was about to speak up when two people both clad in leather armor walked in, a girl with hair that reminded the elf of the bright autumn leaves and a man with black hair who appeared less confident than his traveling companion. Well, she assumed they were companions since they came in at the same time and the girl knew the other's name. "It appears that you two are here for the same purpose as I," Vaeri comments softly before she turns towards the Apothecary, "I came here to see about taking part in the request your association put out. Are we not too late?" The thing about making choices on what you do based on paper you find in a mud hole is that you never really know how long that paper's been in that mud hole. Maybe they had already resolved that problem weeks ago and had just forgotten to take down all the notices. There were more people here too, but it could be a coincidence and they both came to this village for nothing.	Name: Vaeri Dryearurdrenn Age: 143 Alignment: Lawful Good Race: Elf Class: Cleric/Barbarian Appearance/Clothing: Vaeri is an innocent looking elf, standing at about 5' 7" (170 cm) with long, straight raven hair that extends down to the base of her back, pale skin and bright blue eyes. At a glance she's quite beautiful with full lips, a small button nose, thin eyebrows and high cheekbones, when one takes a closer look, several tiny scars are visible all over, disfiguring her otherwise graceful looks. Likewise, Vaeri's exposed flesh, the rare times one can see them initially appear smooth and untouched, but upon closer inspection are covered in scars and barely contain wiry muscle below. Vaeri dresses as a lady of the cloth should, with a dark blue full body cloak. The fabric is adorned with intricate patterns in white to provide visual contrast and indicating her status as a clergywoman. Around her neck and outside the cloak, Vaeri wears a necklace bearing the holy symbol of her god. However, underneath the cloak is a full set of leather armor, battle ready and kept in top shape at all times. Skills: Sense Motive, Knowledge (Religion), Knowledge (Nature), Climb, Jump, Sleight of Hand, fletching arrows, surviving out in the wild Natural Abilities: Keen senses, the ability to see better than humans in low light Magic/Spells: Heal: can decide how good this is Tongues: Allows the caster to speak any language for the duration of the spell Turn Undead: Vaeri can attempt to make Undead flee from her presence temporarily. Powerful Undead can resist this. Divine Might: Holy power infuses the caster, temporarily making them more powerful and resilient Flame Strike: Smites foes with holy flames Additional Information: Vaeri worships Menhit, lion-goddess of War. (Fun fact her name means She who massacres) Weapons: Vaeri carries a shortbow and a two-handed battleaxe Possessions: Vaeri carries a backpack that can hold more than you think it would and what Vaeri wants from the bag will always be at the top (the item in question must have been put in the bag beforehand for this to work). Inside the bag are her necessities (tent, rope, bedroll, tarp for the tent, soap, cooking utensils, oil, a lamp, flint and steel), holy texts, and about 2 weeks worth of rations. She also has a coin purse with about 20 gold pieces in it. On her hip is a quiver with 20 arrows. Personality: To strangers, Vaeri appears to be a gentle elf, always keen to help those in need and be a travelling force of good in the world. However, as you get to know her, slowly she morphs into an entirely different person, brash, head-strong and a braggart, this true face of Vaeri shows exactly why she worships the goddess she does. The elf loves battle of all kinds and will gleefully jump into battle whenever she can. History: Vaeri grew up in a forest village mostly populated by other elves to a carpenter. IN her childhood, she began learning the bow as all children did. Her prowess with weaponry was admired just as much as her excessive enthusiasm for using them was worrying. One day while out hunting alone she was overcome by a vision of the lion-goddess Menhit who commanded Vaeri to go out into the world and find a man with two right hands. After this experience, Vaeri began following the goddess of war and has dedicated her life to this mission. The cleric has been following this notice for strong adventurers as a possible lead for locating this mysterious man.
574	13	10	1,293	2,511	Zarxire walked into town, his cloak pulled over his head to cover his horns. "Nice place, wouldn't mind living here if it wasn't so fucking cold." He then noticed the apothecary building the notice described, hopefully no one would reveal his identity and maybe, just maybe, it was warm. Zarxire entered the building and noticed two human adventurers and one elf. All of them being average height for a human, he slightly towered over them at 6 ft. 2 in. but had a much leaner stature than the three. He walked over to the table the Sister was at and sat down, "Don't worry, I watched them post the notices myself. There is no way any group of adventurers could travel far enough for rare ingredients in only a week." Zarxire looked towards the Sister and made sure to keep his cloak over his head. "My name is Zack, I'm a trained wizard and know much of the land. I'm sure with these fine people helping fight off the monsters, we could definitely find the ingredients you seek. If you'll have me of course." Zarxire looked back towards the three, one was obviously a trained fighter, the other seemed to be more fit for the streets, and the last one smelled distinctly of holy magic and a bit of bloodlust. This group seems to be interesting already, wonder who else will show up.	Name: Zarxire Age: 44, but due to Tieflings aging slower he appears 31 Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Tiefling Class: Pyromancer Appearance/Clothing: Except with the typical Tiefling horns and tail Skills: Intimidate, Knowledge (Arcana), Knowledge (Geography), Knowledge (History), Knowledge (Nature), Knowledge (Nobility), Knowledge (Planes), Knowledge (Religion), Perception, Sense Motive, SpellCraft, Pyromancy, Survival Natural Abilities: Hellfire: "Tieflings are able to fuel their rage into their attacks, leaving burn marks on their foes without ever summoning a flame." -Adds fire damage to all melee attacks, can only be used when extremely pissed, which is easy for a tiefling. Spiked Tail: "Some tieflings tails grow in with a sharp serrated edge. These tails are typically thicker and can be used in combat." -Can use tail to attack Magic/Spells: Fireball: Umm, does this need a description. Flame Pillar: A giant pillar of flame erupts from the ground, encasing the targeted area in the fires of hell Blaze Storm: Flames exude from the user, coating the area around him in flames Fire in the Body: The user coats himself in fire, lashing out at all those around him Fire in the Mind: This spell makes all of the user's allies feel his burning rage, causing his partners to become more passionate in the fight Fire in the Soul: The user takes on the form of a 20 ft. flaming beast, although this is an illusion and those with high intelligence or those he has told of this skill are un-affected. Fire in the Blood (Passive): Whenever the user takes fire damage, he takes no damage and heals for 1/4 of the damage he would have been dealt. Additional Information: He hates it if someone touches his horns Weapons: No weapons Possessions: A long fire-retardant robe and cloak, and fire-proof boots of his design. Backpack full of books he hasn't finished yet. Personality: Typically a very level-headed and calm person, Zarxire has spent many years training to learn everything he could. Though in the heat of battle, he loses all sense of focus and lashes out at everything that stands in his way until everything that defies him is dead. History: Born to a small Tiefling community, Zarxire was a rather happy and average child. The day he turned 10, raiders destroyed his town. They were seeking to eliminate the "demon scum". All he remembers of this horrifying massacre were the flames boiling around him before he passed out. Luckily, the raiders thought him dead and passed him over, Zarxire woke up with nothing but burning ashes remaining of his town. After wandering in the wilds, learning all about it and how to survive in it, he finally came across a wizard's home on the edge of the woods. Due to him being young, his tails and horns had not grown in yet, so the wizard thought he was human and adopted the boy. Zarxire learned everything he could about magic, religion, the planes his kind originated from, and everything he could about the people, their culture, and their land. He would walk around the village that was not far from the wizard's house and would study the people, learning how they ticked. Sadly, as he grew older the only magic he could learn was fire magic which hinted at his origins. but when his horns started to grown in, it was obvious. The wizard sold him out the the militia, and Zarxire fled back into the woods, taking all the books he could with him. He built his own shelter, studied the books he had scavenged as well as a couple he had bought at markets if he could hide his horns and tail. Zarxire swore to fight against any and all injustice, whether it was dealt be demon, monster, human, or royalty. One day, he saw the notices for The Convent and saw it as his chance to prove himself. By helping a holy church, it would prove that he wasn't just some malicious demon. Not to mention that but his knowledge of the world would be very beneficial to the group. So Zarxire packed his books and made his way to the Village of Gorlton’s Apothecary immediately, wondering who he would be teamed up with.
575	13	11	2,649	479	Hugh felt Sana pulling herself closer to him and lacing her legs with his. It was more than comfortable to be like this. He was quite happy and relaxed, which is why it came as a bit of a surprise to Hugh when he felt a little bite on his bare chest. "Ahh!" Came his surprised exclamation. "Heeey." He said, in a little more of a disappointed tone. It didn't really hurt. It was more like being playfully bitten by a kitten. He brought his hand to her lower back and just rubbed it for a little, before she rolled away, and he followed suit, though his hand still was under her body. When she took the sheet with her, he felt a sudden coldness as all he was wearing was his small pair of shorts that he wore under his hosen. Sana had taken the covers off the bed, even though all she had intended to take was the sheet, and it had made sure he was uncomfortable. "Ack!" He exclaimed, as he jumped up to a sitting position at the edge of the bed and stretched. He looked to Sana, seeing as she was up and about, and making her towards the window. She stood there and stared for a second, before acquiring a rock and hurling it out. The faint sound of a chicken feeling pain was heard, as Hugh raised an eyebrow. The mystery of what just occurred was quickly revealed as Sana spoke of how she had vanquished the bastard. This brought an amused smile to Hugh's face as he looked on at her. "Cruelty to animals. I see." He said, teasingly. He stood up after her words about getting dressed and moved towards his pile of clothing and armor. "Yes, it appears to be about that time." He stared at his clothes for a moment, wishing more to enjoy a little extra time with her. His thoughts were filled with a little bit of fantasizing as he started putting his pants on and pulling them up till they were snug. He hesitated to put his shirt on, thinking he could go over and maybe enjoy a little more time alone with Sana. He relented and started pulling all of his clothes on, finally finishing with his boots. He just left his armor off, rather preferring to be in a more casual business attire, even though he usually wore the same thing. He stood and straightened his clothes out, wiping any dust that was accrued from the pile his raiment was in on the floor. With the accomplishment of his task, he inhaled deeply and thumped his chest in a way of pumping himself up to meet the day. He strode over to the side of the bed where Sana sat in a sheet. She looked as beautiful as ever, if not a little comical to him. She was nonetheless breath taking and the image of her with bedhead holding a sheet to cover her body brought a contented smile to Hugh's face. He stood over her, leaning over to kiss her forehead, holding the back of her head with his hand and running his fingers through her hair. He placed his lips on her forehead and took in a breath of her. Leaning back out of the kiss, he stated "I'll be downstairs getting breakfast." With that he backed away, his hand tracing through her hair, before turning towards the exit and walking slowly towards it, feeling the sleep deprivation from some of the last few days.	Name: Hugh Van Halder Age: 45 Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Human Class: Fighter, Ex-Paladin Appearance/Clohing: He stands at 6'2", a tower of years of built up muscle. He wears a dark earthen blue tunic over a white linen three button pullover shirt. He wears a pair of black shorts(under his pants) and a pair of dark gray hosen(medieval style pants). He'll wear a chain mail shirt and these pauldrons additionally he'll wear leather knee and shin armor. He wears a small gray hood and a bear fur cloak. Skills: He is a good brawler and can fight with anything he can get his hands on(He's used bed rolls before). Horseback riding. Swordfighting, throwing axes, and two handed weapon fighting. He's been able to use crossbows before, but despises them, as they are delicate and take a lot of work just to reload. Bushcraft and survival stuff. Smoking(if that qualifies as a skill). Some cooking. Natural Abilities: He's strong and durable and can take a lot of beatings. He's pretty much a tank. He can drink a lot of alcohol and only get buzzed. Otherwise, he's just a normal human. Magic Spells: N/A Additional Information: He is in a relationship with Sana Rawn. He has a draft horse, named Rodger. Weapons: He wields a large crude looking battle axe and a falchion. Additionally, he has one small crude throwing axe. Possessions: A rucksack with jerky, bread, cheese, rags, spark rocks(basically one is made of magnesium), rope, ladle, cooking knife, two plates, and tobacco. He also has saddle bags on his horse, which he stores his pipe, more tobacco, sugar cubes, a brush, a stick and bow(which he uses for lighting his pipe), and a few salt licks. He has two water skins. One he keeps on his horse, and one on his person or in rucksack. Additionally he has a pot and a frying pan strapped down to the outside of his rucksack. He also wears a ring on a little chain around his neck and he never seems to take it off, as it was given to him by Sana. Personality: He is a more contented man, liking simple things in life, especially enjoying smoking his pipe with a wonderful scenery, usually in the form of a beautiful day and his love, Sana. He has a more realistic attitude towards the world, not being an idealist, only doing things to help. He has great respect for the natural order of things, and you won't find him trying to seek out revenge. He still has a fiery temper when it is stoked enough to come out. History: Hugh was once part of a great order of paladins. They had much land and ruled with wisdom. Their lands were prosperous and fertile. Many were jealous of their lands, but no one had the courage enough to take on the great and Noble order. Their paladins were fierce and formidable fighters. They all stood higher than 6' and were towers of muscle. They were truly terrifying men. But they were brought down under scandal. Fabricated accusations about them stealing their riches and enslaving other groups of people for labor. The scandals kept growing until they were set upon by every surrounding nation. They stood no chance. Many were killed, only a few escaped. They have been long since forgotten, after being hunted for almost two decades, and killed off, until it was concluded that they were finally extinct. Hugh hid among tribes of barbarians to survive. The tribe was good to him, making him one of their own. He had built a life of simplicity. Some warring between other tribes would often end with them being brutalized and then integrated. Hugh had found love in a woman taken from one of the defeated tribes. He had a few sons and lived very happily with her, until they were set upon by a purge of the "savages". Hugh's tribe was wiped out and he was orphaned once again. He had brutally killed all the "civilized" army he could, but it was too late. His tribe was all gone, along with his family. He became a wanderer, and left to find life as a mercenary. In that life, he found an adventure awaiting him in a tavern. The tavern was filled with life, when he came in and joined up with a questing group. There he met a gypsy woman by the name of Sana. He got to know her going on this random little adventure with this party. It was all rather simple and jovial at first, until they were all taken captive by a lich. This lich tried to take Sana from them, and in that moment Hugh only felt desperation and rage. He had slowly begun to realize that he had fallen in love with Sana, and that if he lost her nothing would change about his existence as a wandering mercenary, and he would simply keep losing people he deeply cared about. So he took a chance at love, and broke out of his cage in a fit of rage. He fought like a lion to get to Sana, finally winning out(love triumphs over all!) against the hordes of undead after his party came to his aid. Since then, he's been a contented old soul, taking care of Sana and showing her his love for her, even though he has never said the words.
576	13	12	1,533	1,707	In one swift motion, the wizard's shining appendage shot from behind him, enlarged itself, taking hold of the beast's head pushing it back. The swords took advantage of the monster's shift, causing it to lose it's position, and swiftly sliced the monster's mitts into fleshy stumps protruding from its wrists. Meanwhile, the wizard was relieved of the weight of the monster. Melvus took a step back quickly positioned his staff touching the meaty torso of the beast. From in-between the monster's large shoulder blades shot a spear of pure light which broke into many smaller spear, they hit the wall at the other end of the cavern and disappeared. The monster fell to the cold ground of the cave, dead. The job entailed returning with one of it's fangs, he unsheathed his sword and began slicing. About thirty minutes after the monster's demise, Melvus emerged from the cave with a hand over his eyes staving off the brightness of day. He'd gone in a few hours earlier. His horse was still in place, he didn't know its name - he'd borrowed it from the village. His was still there, they had offered a horse for use during the job. He mounted after untying the beast and began the descent down the mountain to the village. It didn't take very long to get back to the village. It was a mountain village after all, though it wasn't as high as the cavern was. He entered and was greeted by stares from the villagers. He hadn't realized, he wasn't soaked but he did have a notable amount of blood on his cloak. He hadn't realized that the swords must've sprayed a good amount of the drying, red, fluid about. No matter, they know what I've done... Too bad though, there wasn't anything there - this was all for naught..." He presented the fang to the religious leader in the village who compensated him. As he was exiting the church, he didn't like churches too much - he saw them as places people went to before they passed away in some attempt to gain favor with their god so they may go to the afterlife. Anyway, as he was leaving the church, he took note of a poster near the door. The posting spoke of an orphanage which had been stricken by cinder sickness. I'm going to use this as a break from monster slaying... Unable to cure it? Hmm... That's about six leagues from here... Melvus washed his cloak in a stream outside of town then proceeded to make his way to Anges' Apothecary.	Removed
577	13	13	290	1,247	Time passed, slowly but surely enough, and the vague traces of light from the rising sun eventually blossomed a full turquoise sky, with the distant ball of light climbing ever higher. The monk's own pacing about lent him a good idea of where most everything in the town was - there wasn't much to behold beyond the church, its apothecary, an inn, and a couple of market shops. As activity burst out in the village, many of the people getting up and about, Hanzo took a cue to head to the apothecary now, as no doubt there would already be a few patrons looking to get in on the offer. He was quite right about that, at least. As Hanzo carefully opened the door, a tiny bell above him rung out in an almost jovial clamor, and a few faces within turned to regard the newcomer. The monk could see that a small but apparent group was yet gathered, with an elder Sister paying witness to them - and too, there seemed to be a few more people outside heading towards the apothecary. Hanzo let himself in after a short-lived moment of pondering to prop the door open for the other newer arrivals. For who was already present, the job offer seemed to have mostly attracted mercenaries, it seemed. The two 'average' humans, a male and a female, were garbed in basic adventurer's gears and armor, visible weapons at their possession. The man, however, seemed to be second-guessing either himself of the operation here, something the lady brushed off. The other two looked to shroud themselves in cloaks, though they were notably separate unlike the humans. Towering about them was a man with a hard yet smooth voice, very certain in huddling his cloak about him. Maybe he wasn't used to the colder weather - but then again, Hanzo could almost feel something else with him. The other lady, however, was distinctly elven in her looks (from what Hanzo could observe) and seemed to make her holy presence more apparent. Hanzo folded his arms at his waist, preceding a slight bow and a nod. "I happened to be in the area when I heard of this outbreak of Cinder Sickness - but I didn't imagine quite so many people would take on this plea," Hanzo softly remarked, taking another glace to the door as he did so in expectancy of more patrons walking in. Quickly turning back, he added, "I would hope that my own offer of service is not unwelcome to you all."	Name: Mortosh Celjust and Zam Mano Age: last time he counted 696 (Zam is 200 a kid by her races standard) Alignment: Chaotic Good (Zam is Neutral Good) Race: undead but more specifically a Skeleton (Zam is a Petal For more information on those look for them on page 120 of monster manual III) Class: Cleric (Zam doesn’t really have a class as she is supposed to act as an item much like boo from Baldur’s gate) Appearance/Clothing: Mortosh wears an enchanted blue hood that obscures his entire face making appear as a black void with blue lights wear his eyes should be this is to hide his skull. He wears an iron chest plate with iron gauntlets his legs are hidden by a long blue skirt and iron boots (Zam’s Skin is light blue her hair is a darker shade of blue her bang cover her eyes she wares gray cloth dress her wings are the same color as her skin) Skills: For Mortosh it is Hide Diplomacy Knowledge (religion) Survival Heal ( For Zam it is Bluff and Gather Information Knowledge (nature) as Zam doesn’t actually have class I decided that it would be op to give her any more skills Natural Abilities: Undead-Life: as an undead you are immune to age effects and disease. Unbreakable: An undead has no death ticks. Undead appetite: The Undead are able to use the undead appetite encounter power. (Zam) Lullaby: Any creature within a 20-foot-radius that fails a DC 14 Will save is affected as though by a lullaby spell. A creature that successfully saves cannot be affected again by that petal’s lullaby song for 24 hours. The save DC is Charisma-based. Magic/Spells: Remove Fear: Suppresses fear or gives +4 on saves against fear for one subject + one per four levels Create Food and Water: Feeds three humans (or one horse)/level. Bless: Allies gain +1 on attack rolls and saves against fear Calming Embrace: By placing his hands on friends, or foes restores Mortosh will restore a bit of health as calm down bersekers Insect Plague: Locust swarms attack creatures (Zam) Chatter: A spell created by Zam And Mortosh To allow Zam to speak for Mortosh Calm Emotions: Calms creatures, negating emotion effects Light: Object shines like a torch lie. Additional Information: he is a cleric of Trew Barton The god of joy and undeath. The lack of a lower jaw makes it hard to speak so Zam usually translate for him she also sits on his shoulder. Mortosh sometimes will be overwhelmed with greed causing him steal without thought this has caused him to land into a whole heap of trouble in the past. Weapons: A Simple mace (Zam Like most of her race doesn’t carry a lethal weapons but she dose carry a blow gun which she uses to shoot darts laced with sleeping powder she doesn’t use this very often due to the ingredients used in the sleeping powder are quite rare) Possessions: Mortosh Carries a shrunken zombie around his neck (Zam Owns Shinobue a Side blown flute) Mortosh has a jar full of flower that he carries around for Zam he carries it around for so she doesn't faint from hot or thick air EDIT: Three vials of Moderate Inflict Wounds Personality: Mortosh is a very friendly Skeleton he is calm and hard to anger but his years of lacking the capability of speech has damaged his social skills quite badly which can make him come off as insensitive. while he is perfectly of take on offensive role he dose fell uncomfortable hurting others be they man or beast but he will not complain if fighting is necessary.(Zam is quite battle hungry once again by her races standard anyway she can’t really stand the thought of staying in one place to long she also has obsession with sugar give her some and shell be your friend for life ironically this is not the reason way she follows Mortosh) History: 696 Years ago Mortosh rose from his grave no memory of his past life the only thing he remembered was his cleric training Mortosh spent a good chunk of his first fifty years searching for his past to no avail Realizing that trying to search for a past that he no idea about or even the reason why he was searching so he gave up on searching and decided to just travel why? He didn’t know back then but now he know he was looking for purpose and he found it when he encountered a necromancer and a follower of Trew. He spoke to Mortosh and told him about Trew. Mortosh was intrigued with Trew so asked the necromancer how he could show his loyalties to Trew and the necromancer handed him the shrunken head. Confused Mortosh asked the necromancer about the head and he told him that the head was the symbol of Trew then he requested that Mortosh would spread the massage of Trew. Mortosh accept the his request but before he went he realized one thing. He would be run out of any village or town before he even toke his first step so asked the necromancer to enchant his hood so it would only show a void. So The necromancer enchanted Mortosh’s hood so with his enchanted hood on Mortosh thank the necromancer and went on his to spread the word of Trew and that how he spend his next two hundred years spreading the word that was until he angered a zealous paladin who broke his jaw to pieces. With no jaw all his words came out as mumbling so not being able to spread the word he turned to learning healing magic so he spent the next hundred years learning. this was around the time that Zam was Born two hundred years ago Zam was. Born in to a tribe of petals a race of tiny fey creatures she was treated well enough but she was still an outcast among her race she wasn’t as talented in art as the rest of her race. So she turned to other thing like spellcraft this is what taught her to speak all other tongues she would later encounter Mortosh when he would save her from a plague walker. Mortosh Seeing that Zam had gotten hurt would go on to heal all her wounds. Grateful for his deed Zam asked him what she could do for him. Mortosh lowered his hood and showed her his lack of lower jaw and he needed someone to speak for him as she was the only one that understood what he was saying she agreed and they have been traveling ever since
578	13	14	54	1,340	Sana Sana looked over to Hugh and shrugged at his comment about cruelty to animals with a smile gracing her lips. “He’s lucky he isn’t breakfast,” she said in a coy voice as she sat there and watched him as he dressed, letting out a low whistle as she did. She enjoyed these little moments that they were able to steal throughout the day; even more so now knowing that once they started with another adventuring party their time alone would be cut to almost nothing. Tilting her head back as he came over to her she rose a brow and sighed happily as he kissed her forehead, her hand reaching up and running along his arm. “Alright, I will be down shortly,” she said as he pulled away and began to head to the exit. As he did so she rose and let the sheet drop as she turned her back to him and gathered her things to get dressed. Sana, unlike Hugh, preferred a more natural approach when it came to sleeping; at least when she knew it was only going to be the two of them. Glancing over her shoulder she a Cheshire grin graced her lips as she shook her hips playfully before hurrying to get dressed. The weather was too cold for her usual attire so she opted for some items she had picked up in their recent travels; pulling on some moderately thick and pale leggings before sliding her loose under shirt of the same color and material over her head; pulling it down and tying the laces. After which she slid on a short and dark skirt, tucking the shirt into the waistband. Sliding her boots on, she laced them up before doing the same with her corset and bracers; quickly picking up her thicker cloak and draping it over her shoulders. Taking a moment she wet her hair lightly and ran a comb through it before grabbing the rest of her gear and heading out the door. Walking over to Hugh she placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Order for me will you, I am going to check out what’s going on with this notice,” she said quickly as she laced her quiver of silver arrows across her back and attaching her second set at her waist. “Should only take a minute,” she added as she darted off and out of the inn, slinging her bow over her shoulder as she did before pulling the hood of her mantle up. The Apothecary Shop Wylsen smiled at the new comers as they began to come in and directed them towards Sister Agnes who was more than delighted to see people beginning to show up; a bright smile crossing her old features as she held a hand out to each one in turn to shake it gently. She didn’t care their ages, what they wore or what they looked like. They were there to help the children she cared so deeply for, so no matter what, they were a blessing in her eyes. “Thank you so much for coming. I was beginning to worry that we might not have anyone show up,” she said as she greeted them. She was about to continue as the soft chime of the bell above the door rang again and a woman stepped into the door, the hood of her mantle covering her face. The only things really showing was a quiver of silver arrows and a bow that were obviously elven made. Pulling back the hood of her mantle and pushing her cloak back over her shoulders revealing she was anything but an elf. Sana popped her neck some as she looked over those that had already gathered. “Hope I am not late for the party,” she said as she closed the door behind her and stepped forward. Sister Agnes shook her head and extended the same greeting to Sana that she had the others and reintroduced herself. Sana smiled and shook the old nuns hand. “Sana Rawn, marksman, at your service Sister. My apologies if I am late, I arrived late last night and the town was locked up tight. So grabbed some sleep before making my way here from the inn. My companion will be joining me as well on this,” she said as she lowered her hand from the shake. “Companion? Another?” Sister Agnes inquired. “Yes another, is there a problem?” she asked as she perked a brow. The sister once again shook her head. “No, not at all, I just went from thinking there would be no one to help to seeing so many and now word of yet another. It puts this old heart at rest,” she said. Sana laughed slightly. “So, tell us Sister, what’s going on?” Sana asked as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, we have had an epidemic of Cinder Sickness that isn’t responding to the usual cures and we are in desperate need of help gathering what we hope can be used to create a true remedy. We have already lost one child sadly, we hope to lose no more,” Agnes said as she sighed remorsefully. Sana shook her head as she stood there. “Okay, what do you need?” she asked and Wylsen stepped out from behind the counter and began to hand out the parchments with the list of items they would need. It read as follows. Tear of Eyewing Feather of Pegasus Claw of Hellhound Whisker of Gnoll Blood of Mist Dragon “This is not the complete list mind you but what isn’t listed there we already have. These items, well there are a bit harder to come by,” Wylsen said as he handed the sheets to the group. Sister Agnes looks nervous as he did so. “Wow….okay,” Sana said reviewing the paper. “I can see why you need a group. The gnolls really aren’t an issue but the rest could prove problematic,” Sana said truthfully. These were not common items from common creatures. These were rare, very rare. In all her years adventuring she had only run across half of what was on the list. “You can’t do it?” Sister Agnes asked in a disheartened voice that made Sana chuckle slightly. “Now I didn’t say that Sister,” she said with a soft smile and the sister let out a relieved breath.	Name: Hanzo Jibero Age: 26 Alignment: Lawful Neutral Race: Human Class: Monk Appearance/Clothing: Skills: Acrobatics Survival Historical & Religious Knowledge Climbing & Swimming Perception Emotion Reading Ki Manipulation Martial Arts, Grappling, & Throwing Natural Abilities: Has honed his body to its upper limits in durability and reflexes, and learned to how manipulate his Ki (spiritual energy); otherwise, he possesses no special abilities of note for a human. Magic/Spells: Ki Strike - A focused attack bolstered through Ki. Grants a chance for normal damage to penetrate armor and natural resistances. Can be charged for a slightly greater chance. Ki Blast - Hanzo channels Ki into his hands to throw out a bolt of raw energy that travels a short distance. Functions as a basic magical attack with a chance to penetrate physical armor (akin to Ki Strike), but must be charged to yield the proper effect initially. Ki Mending - A monk's own 'lay on hands' technique using Ki. Restores a bit of health and fights magical impurities. Additional Information: This monk hails from an old culture that bears worship to the spirit of nature, rather than any specific god. They bless the sun and the moon for giving them light, and the earth and its bounty for giving them life. A somewhat nomadic culture, these monks rarely established buildings or relics for anything beyond shelter, aiming to preserve nature as best as they could. This culture took up martial arts and the art of Ki manipulation as a means of defensing oneself without resorting to weapons or lethality, and to hone one's body and spirit to its greatest potential. Life was simple and peaceful, yet active and fulfilling. They took what they needed from nature and kindly returned what they did not, blessing all creatures that lost their lives as fulfilling a greater purpose. For Hanzo, this has since changed somewhat. Where he once could've wandered without ever getting lost, he now struggles to find a purpose in this new reality revealed to him. He has long since gotten over the culture shock of the developing world, however, and still finds himself traveling about, benefiting others where he sees fit. The wonder still remains, however, and the monk can't help but wish for a sign to reveal his own destiny. Equipment: Hanzo possesses no weapons besides his fists, but does wear a small medium of protective gear: leather bracers on his forearms and legs, and a belt with magical properties that reinforces his natural durability. Possessions: Something of a miser, Hanzo carries little gear or money on his person. He is always seens with his monk's clothing (see above), as well as a waterskin, a crest of his clan, and a ring of prayer beads. Should the need arise, the sash he wears can be improvised as a ten-foot rope. Personality: By nature, Hanzo is a respectful individual, treating others with kindness when he can see they deserve it. Through his experiences, however, the monk has learned to only really trust those he has discovered as righteous at heart, even if not always purely good. As such, he comes and goes in his travels, not often staying to maintain friendships but still holding them at heart. Getting to know Hanzo and sympathize with him can turn the monk into a faithful ally, even beyond an initial partnership. As a result of his less fortunate experiences, Hanzo bears a stern sense of justice, and is quite willing to help others in desperate need (for better or worse, at times). He tends to be straightforward, but also cautious and logical - not below fighting others to reach a solution, but wise enough to seek an alternate method. As a part of his vowing of respect as a monk, Hanzo will never willingly kill a fellow human/elf/etc, but when pitted against the 'inhumane' (monstrous creatures and truly sinful individuals) he will not share that grace. History: Hanzo was born naturally within a nomadic tribe of monks. As a youth, he was eager to learn their ways and trained hard to better himself. He found himself fitting in well with the culture, benefiting greatly from its teachings and giving him a fairly fulfilling life, at the time. Of course, some things have a tendency to change so very suddenly. As Hanzo's generation was beginning to reach their coming of adulthood, one girl was suddenly outcast from the monks in what had to be a first in their history. She had always been something of a quiet loner, but what put her off the edge was her possession and obsession with a unique steel knife abandoned in the forest. Though Hanzo was somewhat regretful of her suffering this fate, as he was one of the few people to show her kindness, he was ultimately made to pay it no mind. Disaster struck, however, when but a few moons later, the girl returned in the accompany of a legion of violent warriors. She had discovered that the knife was of their craft, and immediately became absorbed into their vastly differing knowledge. When she weaved a tale of being isolated and betrayed by her primitive family and clan, the battle-bred warriors were empowered to aid her in revenge. So began the crusade against Hanzo's clan, a long night of fire beneath a bloody moon. As fear and panic settled in, a still-young Hanzo was desperately urged to flee, even as family and friends alike were quickly slaughtered under the warriors' powerful weapons. Under the shadow of the forest, Hanzo managed to evade the clan's new enemies, and believed himself to be a solitary survivor. But while the fires still remained in sight, Hanzo was suddenly confronted by the girl, bloody knife in hand. Though she had initially spared Hanzo for the kinship he had offered, the murderer claimed to have dicovered a new way of life, driven by a far more powerful emotion: wrath. Seeing the monk feel his own brand of wrath, she offered him another chance, to channel and release this rage the only way she knew how. Hanzo refused, deciding she had more than lost her mind, and attempted to fight her in his anger. Their tango was brief but brutal, put to a painful end when the murderer was knocked headfirst into a collapse of burning branches, blinding her. He only regrets not having learned her name. The time following was harsh to Hanzo, not because he could not survive but because he had nobody else to survive with. He was alone, his family, friends, and culture all mercilessly slaughtered. Hanzo's outlook changed - it had to, if he was going to truly live any longer. The monk began to wander the world again, a world that seemed to so vastly change overnight, as he passed through many towns, kingdoms, and nations. He would help others as he deemed without compensation, all the while hoping to find some new sense of purpose as she had.
579	13	15	290	1,247	Mortosh sat at a table Zam sat in front of him and was munching on her promised sugar cube but he was staring up at the ceiling ("We Are Really Doing This? Aren't We Zam") Zam Briefly stop gnawing her cube and looked Mortosh in confusion "what are you talking about Mortosh?" he stop staring at the ceiling looked down at the petal and said ("This Zam This Whole Curing This Outbreak And In The Process Where We're Going Save The Children Of This Village This All Just Sound So Ludicrous And Here We Are An Undead Cleric And A Petal") Zam just nodded in agreement "it does when you mention it" She Took a quick bite out of her cube before she continued "but we sorta do this all the time" Mortosh Nodded ("But We Usually Just Deal With One Person But Now Were Saving Almost An Entire Village") Mortosh gave a non existence Sigh "can you tell me why the elven woman bothers you" ("So you noticed my unease did you? but to answer your question she A Cleric") "how do you know that?" ("Its the Pattern on her dress it means she a fellow cleric") he looked at the woman in question who busy speaking to a man and woman ("But Shes Not A Follower Of Trew") "Should i keep an eye on her" Mortosh Shook his Head ("No If We Were Show Distrust Anyone Of Not Our Faith Then We Would Be Not Be Here Just Go Back to Your Cube")	Name: Mortosh Celjust and Zam Mano Age: last time he counted 696 (Zam is 200 a kid by her races standard) Alignment: Chaotic Good (Zam is Neutral Good) Race: undead but more specifically a Skeleton (Zam is a Petal For more information on those look for them on page 120 of monster manual III) Class: Cleric (Zam doesn’t really have a class as she is supposed to act as an item much like boo from Baldur’s gate) Appearance/Clothing: Mortosh wears an enchanted blue hood that obscures his entire face making appear as a black void with blue lights wear his eyes should be this is to hide his skull. He wears an iron chest plate with iron gauntlets his legs are hidden by a long blue skirt and iron boots (Zam’s Skin is light blue her hair is a darker shade of blue her bang cover her eyes she wares gray cloth dress her wings are the same color as her skin) Skills: For Mortosh it is Hide Diplomacy Knowledge (religion) Survival Heal ( For Zam it is Bluff and Gather Information Knowledge (nature) as Zam doesn’t actually have class I decided that it would be op to give her any more skills Natural Abilities: Undead-Life: as an undead you are immune to age effects and disease. Unbreakable: An undead has no death ticks. Undead appetite: The Undead are able to use the undead appetite encounter power. (Zam) Lullaby: Any creature within a 20-foot-radius that fails a DC 14 Will save is affected as though by a lullaby spell. A creature that successfully saves cannot be affected again by that petal’s lullaby song for 24 hours. The save DC is Charisma-based. Magic/Spells: Remove Fear: Suppresses fear or gives +4 on saves against fear for one subject + one per four levels Create Food and Water: Feeds three humans (or one horse)/level. Bless: Allies gain +1 on attack rolls and saves against fear Calming Embrace: By placing his hands on friends, or foes restores Mortosh will restore a bit of health as calm down bersekers Insect Plague: Locust swarms attack creatures (Zam) Chatter: A spell created by Zam And Mortosh To allow Zam to speak for Mortosh Calm Emotions: Calms creatures, negating emotion effects Light: Object shines like a torch lie. Additional Information: he is a cleric of Trew Barton The god of joy and undeath. The lack of a lower jaw makes it hard to speak so Zam usually translate for him she also sits on his shoulder. Mortosh sometimes will be overwhelmed with greed causing him steal without thought this has caused him to land into a whole heap of trouble in the past. Weapons: A Simple mace (Zam Like most of her race doesn’t carry a lethal weapons but she dose carry a blow gun which she uses to shoot darts laced with sleeping powder she doesn’t use this very often due to the ingredients used in the sleeping powder are quite rare) Possessions: Mortosh Carries a shrunken zombie around his neck (Zam Owns Shinobue a Side blown flute) Mortosh has a jar full of flower that he carries around for Zam he carries it around for so she doesn't faint from hot or thick air EDIT: Three vials of Moderate Inflict Wounds Personality: Mortosh is a very friendly Skeleton he is calm and hard to anger but his years of lacking the capability of speech has damaged his social skills quite badly which can make him come off as insensitive. while he is perfectly of take on offensive role he dose fell uncomfortable hurting others be they man or beast but he will not complain if fighting is necessary.(Zam is quite battle hungry once again by her races standard anyway she can’t really stand the thought of staying in one place to long she also has obsession with sugar give her some and shell be your friend for life ironically this is not the reason way she follows Mortosh) History: 696 Years ago Mortosh rose from his grave no memory of his past life the only thing he remembered was his cleric training Mortosh spent a good chunk of his first fifty years searching for his past to no avail Realizing that trying to search for a past that he no idea about or even the reason why he was searching so he gave up on searching and decided to just travel why? He didn’t know back then but now he know he was looking for purpose and he found it when he encountered a necromancer and a follower of Trew. He spoke to Mortosh and told him about Trew. Mortosh was intrigued with Trew so asked the necromancer how he could show his loyalties to Trew and the necromancer handed him the shrunken head. Confused Mortosh asked the necromancer about the head and he told him that the head was the symbol of Trew then he requested that Mortosh would spread the massage of Trew. Mortosh accept the his request but before he went he realized one thing. He would be run out of any village or town before he even toke his first step so asked the necromancer to enchant his hood so it would only show a void. So The necromancer enchanted Mortosh’s hood so with his enchanted hood on Mortosh thank the necromancer and went on his to spread the word of Trew and that how he spend his next two hundred years spreading the word that was until he angered a zealous paladin who broke his jaw to pieces. With no jaw all his words came out as mumbling so not being able to spread the word he turned to learning healing magic so he spent the next hundred years learning. this was around the time that Zam was Born two hundred years ago Zam was. Born in to a tribe of petals a race of tiny fey creatures she was treated well enough but she was still an outcast among her race she wasn’t as talented in art as the rest of her race. So she turned to other thing like spellcraft this is what taught her to speak all other tongues she would later encounter Mortosh when he would save her from a plague walker. Mortosh Seeing that Zam had gotten hurt would go on to heal all her wounds. Grateful for his deed Zam asked him what she could do for him. Mortosh lowered his hood and showed her his lack of lower jaw and he needed someone to speak for him as she was the only one that understood what he was saying she agreed and they have been traveling ever since
580	13	16	1,533	1,707	Since Melvus had left the mountain and made headway toward the Apothecary shop, the sun had already set on the world, rendering total darkness. Only the occasional torchlit area of the road was visible. An incredible amount of crickets were audible. In front of the horse there was a glowing arm, Melvus had thought to use his Arm of the Heavens as a light-source. His horse's hooves clopped along as they made their way. Hm... I remember why I began using heaven-based magic... Fourteen years ago Melvus was seventeen. It was during this age that his entire family and village had mysteriously disappeared. After a short while, he found work with the faction Aesil in the nearby city, Drisbane. They had experienced a civil war and with the royal family dead, save one little girl - Princess Efrida - the city was in chaos. The four factions, Goetia, The Guardians, Palace and Aesil had been vying for power. They had agreed that skirmishes were too dangerous with the citizens. They held one on one or two on two battles instead, battles between champions of each faction. Melvus had joined the Aesil, also known as the descendants of the Angels. Melvus didn't care much for it, but he did use it as a time to learn. During this time he learned three specific spells from an older wizard within the Aesil faction. These spells were Heaven's Wheel, Arm of the Heavens, and Rain of Light. They were all appropriately themed. He'd also learned a few spells on his own, Ethereal Wings was learned from a book. He vividly remembered all of the times he'd fallen and broken something before he could control his flight. He also learned Deflection from a book. Melvus noticed that the sun had broken the darkness as it rose over the horizon. It's majestic rays, tearing through the, once overwhelming, darkness of night. The sound of crickets died down and his shining arm dissipated. He could see the town. It didn't have walls and the only notable building from this view was the church, its spire seemed to scrape the Heavens. It wasn't really quite that tall. It didn't take long for Melvus to find the shop the poster had mentioned. He turned the doorknob and as he pushed the wooden door in, he noticed a door chime. Inside were many people, they had lists in their hand and an older woman had been talking, she looked like a nun. "I'm not too late for this am I?" His voice was as whispery as ever as he held up the poster he'd seen in the church.	Removed
581	13	17	2,489	654	This was bad. Tobias had managed to take up position leaning against a wall viewing the doorway, the easier to see those who came in. And he did not like what he was seeing. First, the hooded woman who'd been there before him and Fiona. She smelled strange, like the woods, and her cloak was covered in dew. This plus the high cheekbones he'd managed to catch a glimpse from evinced to him that she was an elf - he'd need to see her ears before he could be sure, however. That wasn't what scared him, though - what frightened him was the look he'd gotten at her face. Anyone else would have looked at her and seen a ravishing beauty - Tobias, however, was an old hand at sizing people up, and his eyes were drawn immediately to the web of scars covering her face in thin lines. She was not someone to mess with. Next, the red-skinned 'wizard' with the barbed tail. What was there to say about him besides what he had whispered to Fiona when the man had finished his introduction? "Fiona. Demons. Polite demons." Then, the bald man. This guy had a shaved head, was wearing some weird clothes Tobias couldn't even describe, and was totally ripped. Either he was a demon cultist, or worse, some sort of... what was that word again? Monk? Didn't sound right. Whatever. The most recent arrival was the best. A woman, tanned and beautiful, with a recurve bow over her shoulder. At first glance he could see a whole lot to like and nothing to distrust - he'd have to try harder later. Oh, the old woman was talking. Tobias probably should have been listening to that, but he'd been too deep in thought about his prospective companions. As the nun went around passing out parchments, Tobias accepted one and began scanning it immediately. A small whimper escaped his mouth as he read the words. "Eh... heheh... is this all literal? Like, like, is, is 'Blood of Mist Dragon' like, a flower or, or do you mean that there's like, literally a thing called a Mist Dragon and you need its blood?" Tobias rubbed the back of his neck as a newcomer entered the room, carrying a staff and wearing some sort of robe. Sorcerer. Brilliant. "Uh, followup question. How much exactly are we getting paid?"	Name: Tobias Age: 22 Alignment: Chaotic Good-ish Race: Human Class: Thief Appearance/Clothing: Skills: Bluff, Acrobatics, Charm, Athletics, Sneak, Theft, Streetwise, Knife-Wielding, Knife-Throwing. Natural Abilities: The power of average-ness. Magic/Spells: Not a scrap of it. Additional Information: Tobias isn't the strongest fighter, being far more suited to running, hiding, or bluffing his way out of situations (he's capable by normal person standards, of course - just not really what you'd expect from an adventurer). He's also a massive pathological liar with trust issues a mile wide. Weapons: He has three knives - one on his belt, one on his back, and one in his boot. Possessions: Leather armor, basic adventuring supplies (rope, flint and steel, etc.). His hood is enchanted to make it very hard for someone who sees him with it up to remember his face. He also has a magic grappling hook enchanted to not make a sound. Personality: Tobias is glib, smart-alecky, cowardly, and tries his absolute best to be self-centered. Though he'd feverishly deny it, he's a fundamentally good person underneath the assumed selfish. He tries not to let anyone get close to him, and often uses snark and flat out lies as armor in social interaction. History: Getting the truth out of him about his personal history is extraordinarily difficult, but it's possible to determine that he's an orphan who grew up on the streets and has spent his life so far living in cities and alternating between pickpocket, con-man and cat burglar in order to survive. Also, hai Kronshi. Funny meeting you again. :p
582	13	18	1,033	567	Drizzak chill of the early morning did not seem to affect the short figure emerging from the treeline as it entered the village. The activity beginning to arise within the settlement seemed to pause slightly as the figure passed by, garbed in hide and what appeared to be the skin of a bear, complete with paws for a mantle and head for a hood. The figure beneath that hood was shadowed, face unable to be seen save for one stand-out feature. The figure was smiling. It was smiling wide. Wider and wider as it pulled the crumpled bit of parchment from beneath its cloak and brought it up to its face. The notice from the Convent of the Sisters of Light. It took only a moment for the hood to fall and reveal the long ears, jagged fangs and luminous eyes of a rather strange goblin. He seemed to dance from foot to foot as he looked around. Drizzak was out, back in the world. He was roaming the wilds once more. It was time for adventure, for glory, for combat and for him to make his mark on the world. And what a mark he would make. Crumpling the paper, he turned in circles to look over the village. Eyes of scared and confused villagers fell on him as he began to cackle. To shriek laughter as he looked around for his first destination. The Apothecary. The house of healing and spell drinks. He felt an odd yearning as he whiffed the chemical smalls on the wind. Like a rabbit, he hopped and bounded over to the door and pushed it open with a great huff. The light of the sun behind him made him seem like a figure worth revering. Almost as if he were preordained to be something fantastic. The goblin stood in the light, giggling madly as he checked the whip at his hip, and the sword at his other. It was time to ride again. The carnage would begin soon, as would his story. He only needed to find this 'Sister Agnes', and with a shrill bark, he spoke. "WHERE IS SISTER-LADY EGGNESS?!"	Name: Drizzak. Age: Goblin equivalent of 20. Alignment: Chaotic Good. Race: Goblin. Class: Fighter. Skills: Simple/Martial/Exotic Weaponry, Intimidation, Taunting, Hiding, Survival, Climbing, Swimming and he's alright at just screaming at things or in a certain direction. Natural Abilities: Fast Movement, Dexterity Boost, Darkvision. Magic/Spells: None. Additional Information: He will always go for the biggest target. No matter how big. Weapons: A kris-like shortsword in one hand and a scorpion whip in the other. His most prized possessions. Possessions: Fur vestments and hide armor. Personality: Drizzak is, for the most part, extremely friendly and positive, bordering on naive. If one were to attribute an overall alignment to him, it could easy be Chaotic Good. He can be extreme at times, but his heart is in the right place for the most part. His extremism comes from his tendency to be easily excited. He tends to see all other races as different sizes of Goblin. History: Drizzak does not speak much about his past. Its obvious from the way that he avoids questioning about it that his departure from his family and clan was not an easy thing for him. If one was knowledgable enough, they would be able to find the skin-mark on his neck in the shape of an angry goblin skull and crossbones, meaning 'exile'.
583	13	19	1,451	685	Fiona had positioned herself with her back to the wall next to Tobias, and found herself suddenly glad she had someone she at least sort of knew going into this. She'd been expecting a few others to take up the call for this job, but not this many. They were of many different varieties; quite a few other humans, but some less common races as well, some of which she had simply never seen before, having only left her secluded corner of the world a short few years ago. It was enough to make her feel a little small, being the beginner adventurer of the group. Hooking her thumbs under her belt, she listened to Tobias's worrying, resisting the urge to roll her eyes again. "Well, at least they're all on our side. We're working together in this, remember?" After being handed the list of materials, she studied the ingredients they were being asked to collect, and was suddenly glad for so much experienced company. Fiona hadn't even heard of most of these, and knew less about where to find them. Certainly some of the others were herbalists to some degree, or more experienced with this. Her role was clearly going to be one of protection on the way to these things, and any battles that were necessary in actually collecting them. "Think of it this way, Tobias," she said to him. "Since we're all a team, no one should have to do anything they aren't equipped for. No one will ask you to fight any dragons for us." She lowered her voice then to ensure that only he would hear her. "But look at this group. What if someone we meet needs to be persuaded of something? Most of them don't look like the sociable type to me. You could be really valuable to us." She smiled slightly, hoping perhaps to reassure him. Thief or no, he was a friend by now, and Fiona did like the idea of having a friend along for this. "I'm Fiona, by the way," she said, to the group at large. "If we're doing introductions."	Name: Fiona Age: 22 Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Human Class: Fighter Appearance/Clothing: Reference 1, Reference 2. Fairly average height, with a lean and toned build. Fiery, wild red hair and light brown eyes, skin tone a fair, slightly pale coloration. Skills: Close combat fighting, speed and agility, moderate strength, excellent horseback riding skills. Proficient both armed and unarmed, moderate endurance for taking hits. Good at cooking with relatively little to work with, and while likely irrelevant, good at farming. Natural Abilities: None - Human Magic/Spells: None Armor: Roughly as seen in the image, some pieces of scavenged light plate, most effectively protecting her right arm. Weapons: Use reference 2 for example. A fairly standard curved longsword, lightweight but sturdy. She has a dagger sheathed on her left thigh for emergencies. Possessions: Little of note. Her clothes, weapons, armor, packs, supplies, basic medical items and personal belongings. Most of it kept in her horse's saddlebags. Personality: Fiona's bold and brash, often unafraid of things she probably should be, and in general a very confident and self-assured individual. Like any good adventurer she is both curious and brave, but also deeply selfless, not preferring to use the word 'mercenary' to describe herself, as this implies the coin is the end goal she works for. Mostly she just enjoys her life for what it is: a chance to explore, meet new people and see new things, and help wherever she can, with what skill she has. Though typically a loner, she doesn't turn down help when offered, and tries to work together with others as best she can. She's an inexperienced, terrible liar, preferring both her combat and her conversation upfront and uncomplicated. History: Fiona's story is a relatively simple one, starting with a family not important enough to even have a lasting name. She's simply Fiona, of the village of Drayden, a little farming community quite a ways from many large population centers. Fiona was an only child, and thus assisted a great deal around the farm, becoming strong and physically active as a result. Wandering adventurers inspired her even as a teenage girl, and her mind would not be swayed from eventually leaving the family farm to see the world. When they were eventually able to hire some help, she used what coin she had to purchase some basic equipment, and set out at age 19, blade in hand, hunting for contracts. Naturally, without the best of training or a good starting foundation of equipment and knowledge, Fiona struggled in her first few years, but learned from her mistakes, and has developed into a competent and even confident fighter, willing and able to take on problems the average person doesn't want to deal with.
584	13	20	677	1,382	Well, quite the gaggle of characters had come in since Vaeri had talked to the clergyman. A large man who introduced himself as a trained wizard, an oddly dressed man with a shaved head, a skeleton with a living flower growing inside it, and a tanned human woman carrying elven arrows. Vaeri was almost certain that she couldn't trust everyone here, but for now she remained silent. Careful to keep as much of her body hidden in the cloak, the cleric took the handout given to her. As soon as she finished looking over the note her hand slipped back underneath the cloak. Vaeri was about to comment on the surprising list of ingredients necessary (she didn't know what a Mist Dragon was, but it wouldn't like having its blood taken) when the door opened again, this time to a human dressed in scholarly robes carrying a staff with a gem on top. He was likely a spellcaster of some kind. Perhaps another wizard. This line of thought was cut off by another entrant, a small green thing with a wicked smile demanding to know where "Lady Eggness" was. It carried on its person a whip and an exotic curved knife. It looked mostly harmless. It was then that the first human woman who had walked into the shop introduced herself. Well, it was only polite to follow suit. "I am Vaeri Dryearurdrenn, pleased to make your acquaintence."	Name: Vaeri Dryearurdrenn Age: 143 Alignment: Lawful Good Race: Elf Class: Cleric/Barbarian Appearance/Clothing: Vaeri is an innocent looking elf, standing at about 5' 7" (170 cm) with long, straight raven hair that extends down to the base of her back, pale skin and bright blue eyes. At a glance she's quite beautiful with full lips, a small button nose, thin eyebrows and high cheekbones, when one takes a closer look, several tiny scars are visible all over, disfiguring her otherwise graceful looks. Likewise, Vaeri's exposed flesh, the rare times one can see them initially appear smooth and untouched, but upon closer inspection are covered in scars and barely contain wiry muscle below. Vaeri dresses as a lady of the cloth should, with a dark blue full body cloak. The fabric is adorned with intricate patterns in white to provide visual contrast and indicating her status as a clergywoman. Around her neck and outside the cloak, Vaeri wears a necklace bearing the holy symbol of her god. However, underneath the cloak is a full set of leather armor, battle ready and kept in top shape at all times. Skills: Sense Motive, Knowledge (Religion), Knowledge (Nature), Climb, Jump, Sleight of Hand, fletching arrows, surviving out in the wild Natural Abilities: Keen senses, the ability to see better than humans in low light Magic/Spells: Heal: can decide how good this is Tongues: Allows the caster to speak any language for the duration of the spell Turn Undead: Vaeri can attempt to make Undead flee from her presence temporarily. Powerful Undead can resist this. Divine Might: Holy power infuses the caster, temporarily making them more powerful and resilient Flame Strike: Smites foes with holy flames Additional Information: Vaeri worships Menhit, lion-goddess of War. (Fun fact her name means She who massacres) Weapons: Vaeri carries a shortbow and a two-handed battleaxe Possessions: Vaeri carries a backpack that can hold more than you think it would and what Vaeri wants from the bag will always be at the top (the item in question must have been put in the bag beforehand for this to work). Inside the bag are her necessities (tent, rope, bedroll, tarp for the tent, soap, cooking utensils, oil, a lamp, flint and steel), holy texts, and about 2 weeks worth of rations. She also has a coin purse with about 20 gold pieces in it. On her hip is a quiver with 20 arrows. Personality: To strangers, Vaeri appears to be a gentle elf, always keen to help those in need and be a travelling force of good in the world. However, as you get to know her, slowly she morphs into an entirely different person, brash, head-strong and a braggart, this true face of Vaeri shows exactly why she worships the goddess she does. The elf loves battle of all kinds and will gleefully jump into battle whenever she can. History: Vaeri grew up in a forest village mostly populated by other elves to a carpenter. IN her childhood, she began learning the bow as all children did. Her prowess with weaponry was admired just as much as her excessive enthusiasm for using them was worrying. One day while out hunting alone she was overcome by a vision of the lion-goddess Menhit who commanded Vaeri to go out into the world and find a man with two right hands. After this experience, Vaeri began following the goddess of war and has dedicated her life to this mission. The cleric has been following this notice for strong adventurers as a possible lead for locating this mysterious man.
585	13	21	54	1,340	The Apothecary Shop Sana glanced over her shoulder as another entered and perked a brow; this was turning out to be a rather interesting bunch but she had dealt with much odder in the past, even in the recent past. At least it seemed no one was a Lich. She could be thankful for that. Sister Agnes smiled at the new comer and shook her head. “Not at all,” she said quickly as Wylsen walked over to the new addition and handed him a piece of parchment with the list of items that they needed. “We can use all the help we can get in this matter it seems,” she added as she looked around. When Tobias asked about the dragon blood Sana turned to look in his direction and nodded. “Yeah, it’s a dragon they are speaking of and they need his blood,” she said before turning back and looking over towards the Sister as Tobias asked about payment. The nun took a breath and walked over to the counter before facing them. “The sisters of my convent have only instructed me to get the word out. The payment will be a great and rare one but unfortunately that is all I am at liberty to say at this time. I am sorry but well…” she said as she looked a little nervous. Sana nodded slightly as she stood there. “You don’t know us and have no idea if we would rob the convent blind without collecting the items if we got the chance?” she stated flatly. “Well…. Yes actually,” she admitted. Sana nodded, her suspicion confirmed and she held her hand up. “I understand, doesn’t matter anyways. I’m in and my companion will be as well,” Sana said in a reassuring voice. The look of nervousness fell from the sisters features and she let out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank you so much,” she said as she reached up and shook Sanas hand. Sana just smirked slightly. “What, am I going to tell a nun no when it comes to trying to help kids not die? Not really much of an option. I doubt I could sleep at night if I just walked away,” she said before being cut off as she heard the chime of the bell once again and then suddenly she seemed to freeze in her place with her back to the door as she heard someone ask for Sister-Lady Eggness. Her face getting an oddly confused look on it as she slowly turned her head; a brow rising sharply as her eyes widened finally seeing the creature that was speaking. “Holy shit,” she said before her hand flew to her mouth and she looked at the nun. “Sorry,” she said out of embarrassment before turning her attention back to the little one. “Drizzak!” she called out as she walked over to him and sunk down to one knee. “How? Why? Well I will be damned!” she exclaimed. “I never thought I would see you this far north,” she added before the look on her face became even more confused. “Where’s your cloak?” she asked as she tilted her head to the side. The nun stepped forward and cleared her throat slightly which got Sanas attention and she rose to standing position. “You…know him?” she asked quickly in a nervous tone. Sana smiled as she nodded her head. “Yes I do. We traveled together once,” she said before explaining further. “I was once nearly sacrificed by a Lich, he was one of the ones that saved me,” she said in a grateful tone as she looked back over towards the one she referred to as Drizzak. “And this Drizzak is Sister Agnes that you are looking for,” she said as she motioned over to the nun. “I see,” the nun said as she walked over and held her hand out to Drizzak to shake his. “Pleasure to meet you,” she added as Wylsen walked over and held out a piece of parchment with the list of items they needed. “Drizzak, looks like we need to find a dragon,” Sana said with a chuckle before looking back over at the sister. “Is there any other information we need or supplies you will be providing?” “I, well… No actually. I am sorry but our convent,” she began but Sana held up her hand and nodded. “Understood,” she said before walking over to Wylsen. “I will need vials, bottles and corks to hold the items in, enough for each member of the party to collect each item and some to spare just in case,” she said. The man nodded and went to collect what they would need. “Um, Sana was it?” the nun asked. “Yes?” she said as she looked over. “I, well the convent cannot pay for this..” she admitted sheepishly. “I got it,” Sana stated flatly as she pulled a silver arrow from her quiver and placed it on the counter. “That should cover it,” she said as Wylsen came back with a crate of what Sana had requested and shook his head. “This one is on me,” he said with a smile on his face as he picked up the arrow and handed it back to Sana. Sana nodded as she dropped the arrow back into her quiver and collected what she and Hugh would need before turning on her heels. “Thank you,” she said as she began to head for the door before turning to address the group. “You all divide the rest of the items that are left between you and then I suggest we all eat before we head out. Feel free to join me at the inn,” she said before looking over at Drizzak. “You should come to, Big Brut Pally Hugh is over there waiting,” she said with a laugh before pushing her way out the door with her items and strolling towards the inn to find Hugh, let him know what was going on and to get something to eat. Making her way towards the inn she pushed the door open and glanced around slightly; seeking out Hugh as she pushed forward and stepped fully into the inn itself.	Name: Hanzo Jibero Age: 26 Alignment: Lawful Neutral Race: Human Class: Monk Appearance/Clothing: Skills: Acrobatics Survival Historical & Religious Knowledge Climbing & Swimming Perception Emotion Reading Ki Manipulation Martial Arts, Grappling, & Throwing Natural Abilities: Has honed his body to its upper limits in durability and reflexes, and learned to how manipulate his Ki (spiritual energy); otherwise, he possesses no special abilities of note for a human. Magic/Spells: Ki Strike - A focused attack bolstered through Ki. Grants a chance for normal damage to penetrate armor and natural resistances. Can be charged for a slightly greater chance. Ki Blast - Hanzo channels Ki into his hands to throw out a bolt of raw energy that travels a short distance. Functions as a basic magical attack with a chance to penetrate physical armor (akin to Ki Strike), but must be charged to yield the proper effect initially. Ki Mending - A monk's own 'lay on hands' technique using Ki. Restores a bit of health and fights magical impurities. Additional Information: This monk hails from an old culture that bears worship to the spirit of nature, rather than any specific god. They bless the sun and the moon for giving them light, and the earth and its bounty for giving them life. A somewhat nomadic culture, these monks rarely established buildings or relics for anything beyond shelter, aiming to preserve nature as best as they could. This culture took up martial arts and the art of Ki manipulation as a means of defensing oneself without resorting to weapons or lethality, and to hone one's body and spirit to its greatest potential. Life was simple and peaceful, yet active and fulfilling. They took what they needed from nature and kindly returned what they did not, blessing all creatures that lost their lives as fulfilling a greater purpose. For Hanzo, this has since changed somewhat. Where he once could've wandered without ever getting lost, he now struggles to find a purpose in this new reality revealed to him. He has long since gotten over the culture shock of the developing world, however, and still finds himself traveling about, benefiting others where he sees fit. The wonder still remains, however, and the monk can't help but wish for a sign to reveal his own destiny. Equipment: Hanzo possesses no weapons besides his fists, but does wear a small medium of protective gear: leather bracers on his forearms and legs, and a belt with magical properties that reinforces his natural durability. Possessions: Something of a miser, Hanzo carries little gear or money on his person. He is always seens with his monk's clothing (see above), as well as a waterskin, a crest of his clan, and a ring of prayer beads. Should the need arise, the sash he wears can be improvised as a ten-foot rope. Personality: By nature, Hanzo is a respectful individual, treating others with kindness when he can see they deserve it. Through his experiences, however, the monk has learned to only really trust those he has discovered as righteous at heart, even if not always purely good. As such, he comes and goes in his travels, not often staying to maintain friendships but still holding them at heart. Getting to know Hanzo and sympathize with him can turn the monk into a faithful ally, even beyond an initial partnership. As a result of his less fortunate experiences, Hanzo bears a stern sense of justice, and is quite willing to help others in desperate need (for better or worse, at times). He tends to be straightforward, but also cautious and logical - not below fighting others to reach a solution, but wise enough to seek an alternate method. As a part of his vowing of respect as a monk, Hanzo will never willingly kill a fellow human/elf/etc, but when pitted against the 'inhumane' (monstrous creatures and truly sinful individuals) he will not share that grace. History: Hanzo was born naturally within a nomadic tribe of monks. As a youth, he was eager to learn their ways and trained hard to better himself. He found himself fitting in well with the culture, benefiting greatly from its teachings and giving him a fairly fulfilling life, at the time. Of course, some things have a tendency to change so very suddenly. As Hanzo's generation was beginning to reach their coming of adulthood, one girl was suddenly outcast from the monks in what had to be a first in their history. She had always been something of a quiet loner, but what put her off the edge was her possession and obsession with a unique steel knife abandoned in the forest. Though Hanzo was somewhat regretful of her suffering this fate, as he was one of the few people to show her kindness, he was ultimately made to pay it no mind. Disaster struck, however, when but a few moons later, the girl returned in the accompany of a legion of violent warriors. She had discovered that the knife was of their craft, and immediately became absorbed into their vastly differing knowledge. When she weaved a tale of being isolated and betrayed by her primitive family and clan, the battle-bred warriors were empowered to aid her in revenge. So began the crusade against Hanzo's clan, a long night of fire beneath a bloody moon. As fear and panic settled in, a still-young Hanzo was desperately urged to flee, even as family and friends alike were quickly slaughtered under the warriors' powerful weapons. Under the shadow of the forest, Hanzo managed to evade the clan's new enemies, and believed himself to be a solitary survivor. But while the fires still remained in sight, Hanzo was suddenly confronted by the girl, bloody knife in hand. Though she had initially spared Hanzo for the kinship he had offered, the murderer claimed to have dicovered a new way of life, driven by a far more powerful emotion: wrath. Seeing the monk feel his own brand of wrath, she offered him another chance, to channel and release this rage the only way she knew how. Hanzo refused, deciding she had more than lost her mind, and attempted to fight her in his anger. Their tango was brief but brutal, put to a painful end when the murderer was knocked headfirst into a collapse of burning branches, blinding her. He only regrets not having learned her name. The time following was harsh to Hanzo, not because he could not survive but because he had nobody else to survive with. He was alone, his family, friends, and culture all mercilessly slaughtered. Hanzo's outlook changed - it had to, if he was going to truly live any longer. The monk began to wander the world again, a world that seemed to so vastly change overnight, as he passed through many towns, kingdoms, and nations. He would help others as he deemed without compensation, all the while hoping to find some new sense of purpose as she had.
586	13	22	1,533	1,707	It turned out that Melvus wasn't too late, he did draw quite a bit of attention though. After him, what appeared to be a goblin barged in shouting about some Lady-Sister Eggness. One of the other adventures promptly cursed then apologized greeting the little fellow. The wizard stepped aside for this. After realizing that the creature wasn't a danger, Anges, the nun, stepped forward and shook its hand. Melvus took note that she hadn't shaken his. Tear of Eyewing. Procuring that will be a challenge. Melvus has seen one before, it was stuffed for decoration. They also needed to find a pegasus, a hellhound, a gnoll, and what seemed to be the most exciting item on the list, a mist dragon. These were all rather rare... and rather dangerous. The mist dragon, alone, could easily drown them if they're not careful. Melvus took his items from the counter, the vial, cork and the likes. He made his way out of the door, the sunlight once again causing him to cover his eyes. Sana, the woman who seems to be taking charge suggested that they eat before departing. Melvus also though this was a good idea, he hadn't eaten since the day before. Pushing the door to the inn open, he was greeted with the smell of ale, wine and other alcoholic beverages. There was also the smell of freshly cooked food, it made his stomach growl. He bought some food at the counter, took his seat at a table in the middle of the inn and proceeded to eat his breakfast. While he ate, he took notice of a rather unpleasant smell. I bathed earlier... Oh... My cloak still reeks of blood... I'll have to wash it before we leave. He realized that, that must've been the reason he'd drawn so much attention.	Removed
587	13	23	290	1,247	Seeing The Woman leave brought Mortosh's thought to the other character in the Shop who soon would become his comrade in arms the elven woman who introduced herself as Vaeri still unnerved him it was something about her appearance if not that it was the fact she was a cleric most of his encounters with other clerics always ended badly for him. the other two where an odd duo maybe an even odder then him and Zam. Perhaps all his unease of the elven woman was unwarranted maybe it would ease his non-existence nerves if he where to Properly introduce himself to them ("What Do you Zam Think Should we introduce our self?") Zam Who seemed to ignore his question had just finished her sugar cube and so Zam was laying on the table with a satisfied grin Mortosh just chuckled at the sight ("Did You Enjoy Your Cube Zam? Zam nodded as she stood up and looked up at the void where Mortosh face was. "you know what Mort i think we should do that" he looked ("So You Did Listen!!!) exclaimed Mortosh in a faux dramatic manner Zam responded likewise "Of Course why would you ever think little of me that just cruel Morty!!!" she said while posing in a dramatic fashion finally nether could anymore of each other antics and just lost it. after having calm Mortosh Asked Zam he really should do it in which she asked if he was going to ignore them during this entire quest. Mortosh rose from his seat and Zam flew into her hidey hole on Mortosh shoulder he began to approach the group He stopped in front of them And Zam flew out of her hole and Said "hello i am Zam and this Mortosh" who only waved at them	Name: Mortosh Celjust and Zam Mano Age: last time he counted 696 (Zam is 200 a kid by her races standard) Alignment: Chaotic Good (Zam is Neutral Good) Race: undead but more specifically a Skeleton (Zam is a Petal For more information on those look for them on page 120 of monster manual III) Class: Cleric (Zam doesn’t really have a class as she is supposed to act as an item much like boo from Baldur’s gate) Appearance/Clothing: Mortosh wears an enchanted blue hood that obscures his entire face making appear as a black void with blue lights wear his eyes should be this is to hide his skull. He wears an iron chest plate with iron gauntlets his legs are hidden by a long blue skirt and iron boots (Zam’s Skin is light blue her hair is a darker shade of blue her bang cover her eyes she wares gray cloth dress her wings are the same color as her skin) Skills: For Mortosh it is Hide Diplomacy Knowledge (religion) Survival Heal ( For Zam it is Bluff and Gather Information Knowledge (nature) as Zam doesn’t actually have class I decided that it would be op to give her any more skills Natural Abilities: Undead-Life: as an undead you are immune to age effects and disease. Unbreakable: An undead has no death ticks. Undead appetite: The Undead are able to use the undead appetite encounter power. (Zam) Lullaby: Any creature within a 20-foot-radius that fails a DC 14 Will save is affected as though by a lullaby spell. A creature that successfully saves cannot be affected again by that petal’s lullaby song for 24 hours. The save DC is Charisma-based. Magic/Spells: Remove Fear: Suppresses fear or gives +4 on saves against fear for one subject + one per four levels Create Food and Water: Feeds three humans (or one horse)/level. Bless: Allies gain +1 on attack rolls and saves against fear Calming Embrace: By placing his hands on friends, or foes restores Mortosh will restore a bit of health as calm down bersekers Insect Plague: Locust swarms attack creatures (Zam) Chatter: A spell created by Zam And Mortosh To allow Zam to speak for Mortosh Calm Emotions: Calms creatures, negating emotion effects Light: Object shines like a torch lie. Additional Information: he is a cleric of Trew Barton The god of joy and undeath. The lack of a lower jaw makes it hard to speak so Zam usually translate for him she also sits on his shoulder. Mortosh sometimes will be overwhelmed with greed causing him steal without thought this has caused him to land into a whole heap of trouble in the past. Weapons: A Simple mace (Zam Like most of her race doesn’t carry a lethal weapons but she dose carry a blow gun which she uses to shoot darts laced with sleeping powder she doesn’t use this very often due to the ingredients used in the sleeping powder are quite rare) Possessions: Mortosh Carries a shrunken zombie around his neck (Zam Owns Shinobue a Side blown flute) Mortosh has a jar full of flower that he carries around for Zam he carries it around for so she doesn't faint from hot or thick air EDIT: Three vials of Moderate Inflict Wounds Personality: Mortosh is a very friendly Skeleton he is calm and hard to anger but his years of lacking the capability of speech has damaged his social skills quite badly which can make him come off as insensitive. while he is perfectly of take on offensive role he dose fell uncomfortable hurting others be they man or beast but he will not complain if fighting is necessary.(Zam is quite battle hungry once again by her races standard anyway she can’t really stand the thought of staying in one place to long she also has obsession with sugar give her some and shell be your friend for life ironically this is not the reason way she follows Mortosh) History: 696 Years ago Mortosh rose from his grave no memory of his past life the only thing he remembered was his cleric training Mortosh spent a good chunk of his first fifty years searching for his past to no avail Realizing that trying to search for a past that he no idea about or even the reason why he was searching so he gave up on searching and decided to just travel why? He didn’t know back then but now he know he was looking for purpose and he found it when he encountered a necromancer and a follower of Trew. He spoke to Mortosh and told him about Trew. Mortosh was intrigued with Trew so asked the necromancer how he could show his loyalties to Trew and the necromancer handed him the shrunken head. Confused Mortosh asked the necromancer about the head and he told him that the head was the symbol of Trew then he requested that Mortosh would spread the massage of Trew. Mortosh accept the his request but before he went he realized one thing. He would be run out of any village or town before he even toke his first step so asked the necromancer to enchant his hood so it would only show a void. So The necromancer enchanted Mortosh’s hood so with his enchanted hood on Mortosh thank the necromancer and went on his to spread the word of Trew and that how he spend his next two hundred years spreading the word that was until he angered a zealous paladin who broke his jaw to pieces. With no jaw all his words came out as mumbling so not being able to spread the word he turned to learning healing magic so he spent the next hundred years learning. this was around the time that Zam was Born two hundred years ago Zam was. Born in to a tribe of petals a race of tiny fey creatures she was treated well enough but she was still an outcast among her race she wasn’t as talented in art as the rest of her race. So she turned to other thing like spellcraft this is what taught her to speak all other tongues she would later encounter Mortosh when he would save her from a plague walker. Mortosh Seeing that Zam had gotten hurt would go on to heal all her wounds. Grateful for his deed Zam asked him what she could do for him. Mortosh lowered his hood and showed her his lack of lower jaw and he needed someone to speak for him as she was the only one that understood what he was saying she agreed and they have been traveling ever since
588	13	24	2,649	479	Hugh heard the slight sound of cloth crumpling to the floor, he turned his head to see a far less than clothed Sana shaking her hips. He stopped and leaned against the door with his body half way turned towards her, giving a contented sigh as he watched her get dressed. He had a rather stupid smile on his face, as his mind seemed to run wild with thoughts of her in his arms and the two of them enjoying something good together. With the little kiss on his cheek, he felt a little bit like a child. He stood away from the door as she headed downstairs, letting him know of her intentions before heading out. "Alright, I'll be downstairs, then, when you get back." He said, as she darted off out the door. He ran his fingers through his hair and stepped out, his pipe and tobacco in his hand. There was likely to be a bit of fire downstairs he could use to light his pipe, so he didn't need the old friction bow and dowel. He walked down the stairs, heading into the main area of the Inn. His arrival at the main counter was greeted by host of the Inn, who invited him to be seated. This was followed by Hugh obliging the host and asking for whatever they were serving for breakfast that day, and for them to bring out two plates of it. "And two cups of coffee!" He finished, gruffly. Looking around for a quick moment, he picked out a table situated between a wooden pillar and a window facing the street. "Take it over there!" He said, pointing to the table. The host nodded and Hugh made his exit from the counter towards the hearth. He took out at leaf of tobacco, rolled it up, and brought it close to the coals that laid at the edge of the hearth. He only needed a few seconds before it lit up and he jammed it into his pipe, stuffing another leaf in after it. This process was then followed by him puffing on it till it gave rise to solid plumes of smoke, making the room get a little more hazy then it had been before. He began inhaling and exhaling it slowly and subtly, so as not to start choking on it. After it was satisfactorily going, he headed over to the table he had chosen out earlier, and took a seat. Hugh simply rocked back in his chair, and put his feet on the chair adjacent to him, enjoying the tobacco he had. It was especially nice, since there were so few customers around at the Inn this time of day. He could enjoy the peace and silence of an empty shop. It was interrupted by the sound of the doors opening and closing, capturing Hugh's attention. One of his eyebrows went up and the other eye squinted as he looked over towards the door to see who had entered. He was relieved to see that it was Sana and his face seemed to brighten up, especially with the new presence of a smile on it. He stood and raised a hand, waving over to her. He looked something like a big kid as he waved at her excitedly. "Over here!" He called out.	Name: Hugh Van Halder Age: 45 Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Human Class: Fighter, Ex-Paladin Appearance/Clohing: He stands at 6'2", a tower of years of built up muscle. He wears a dark earthen blue tunic over a white linen three button pullover shirt. He wears a pair of black shorts(under his pants) and a pair of dark gray hosen(medieval style pants). He'll wear a chain mail shirt and these pauldrons additionally he'll wear leather knee and shin armor. He wears a small gray hood and a bear fur cloak. Skills: He is a good brawler and can fight with anything he can get his hands on(He's used bed rolls before). Horseback riding. Swordfighting, throwing axes, and two handed weapon fighting. He's been able to use crossbows before, but despises them, as they are delicate and take a lot of work just to reload. Bushcraft and survival stuff. Smoking(if that qualifies as a skill). Some cooking. Natural Abilities: He's strong and durable and can take a lot of beatings. He's pretty much a tank. He can drink a lot of alcohol and only get buzzed. Otherwise, he's just a normal human. Magic Spells: N/A Additional Information: He is in a relationship with Sana Rawn. He has a draft horse, named Rodger. Weapons: He wields a large crude looking battle axe and a falchion. Additionally, he has one small crude throwing axe. Possessions: A rucksack with jerky, bread, cheese, rags, spark rocks(basically one is made of magnesium), rope, ladle, cooking knife, two plates, and tobacco. He also has saddle bags on his horse, which he stores his pipe, more tobacco, sugar cubes, a brush, a stick and bow(which he uses for lighting his pipe), and a few salt licks. He has two water skins. One he keeps on his horse, and one on his person or in rucksack. Additionally he has a pot and a frying pan strapped down to the outside of his rucksack. He also wears a ring on a little chain around his neck and he never seems to take it off, as it was given to him by Sana. Personality: He is a more contented man, liking simple things in life, especially enjoying smoking his pipe with a wonderful scenery, usually in the form of a beautiful day and his love, Sana. He has a more realistic attitude towards the world, not being an idealist, only doing things to help. He has great respect for the natural order of things, and you won't find him trying to seek out revenge. He still has a fiery temper when it is stoked enough to come out. History: Hugh was once part of a great order of paladins. They had much land and ruled with wisdom. Their lands were prosperous and fertile. Many were jealous of their lands, but no one had the courage enough to take on the great and Noble order. Their paladins were fierce and formidable fighters. They all stood higher than 6' and were towers of muscle. They were truly terrifying men. But they were brought down under scandal. Fabricated accusations about them stealing their riches and enslaving other groups of people for labor. The scandals kept growing until they were set upon by every surrounding nation. They stood no chance. Many were killed, only a few escaped. They have been long since forgotten, after being hunted for almost two decades, and killed off, until it was concluded that they were finally extinct. Hugh hid among tribes of barbarians to survive. The tribe was good to him, making him one of their own. He had built a life of simplicity. Some warring between other tribes would often end with them being brutalized and then integrated. Hugh had found love in a woman taken from one of the defeated tribes. He had a few sons and lived very happily with her, until they were set upon by a purge of the "savages". Hugh's tribe was wiped out and he was orphaned once again. He had brutally killed all the "civilized" army he could, but it was too late. His tribe was all gone, along with his family. He became a wanderer, and left to find life as a mercenary. In that life, he found an adventure awaiting him in a tavern. The tavern was filled with life, when he came in and joined up with a questing group. There he met a gypsy woman by the name of Sana. He got to know her going on this random little adventure with this party. It was all rather simple and jovial at first, until they were all taken captive by a lich. This lich tried to take Sana from them, and in that moment Hugh only felt desperation and rage. He had slowly begun to realize that he had fallen in love with Sana, and that if he lost her nothing would change about his existence as a wandering mercenary, and he would simply keep losing people he deeply cared about. So he took a chance at love, and broke out of his cage in a fit of rage. He fought like a lion to get to Sana, finally winning out(love triumphs over all!) against the hordes of undead after his party came to his aid. Since then, he's been a contented old soul, taking care of Sana and showing her his love for her, even though he has never said the words.
589	13	25	677	1,382	Well, Vaeri knew the names of 8 of her companions now. Well sort of. Tobias, Zack, Fiona, Sana, Drizzak, somebody named Big Brut Pally Hugh, and Mortosh & Zam. Vaeri wasn't very good with human names, they tended to mix together in her head, so she assigned a word to each name that would help keep them together. Tobias' word would be worried. He did not appear to be a relaxed man. In fact, he was worried enough about payment to inquire about it almost immediately. Payment hadn't even crossed the elf's mind. Zack's word would be tall. Fiona would be scarlet. Vaeri always liked that word more than "red." Red was such a dull word, and Fiona did not look to be dull so far. Thus she would be scarlet, even if it did describe her hair better than the former. Sana's word would be mouthy. She sure did talk a lot in the 4 minutes she had been in the shop. Drizzak, Mortosh and Zam stood out enough that Vaeri was confident that she would remember them without needing to resort to having a keyword associated with them. Big Brut Pally Hugh was certainly distinctive enough to stick in her head, and she hadn't actually seen this person so even if there were need to add on a keyword, the cleric would have none to add. Aside from the names, Vaeri took note of the robed man who walked in, took a bunch of items and then left without a word to anyone, the fact that they were being supplied with free vials and corks from Wyslen and apparently everyone was invited to the inn. After the rude scholar left, she stepped up to the crate and picked out enough vials to feel confident she would have enough to carry back to the Apothecary. "Thank you for your gift, good sir." Vaeri said and performed a small bow of thanks to Wyslen. Vaeri stepped away from the counter and opened the bag at her hip, placed the empty vials and corks in before shutting it again. The cleric opened the door, but waved goodbye to her future travelling companions before leaving. Sana had suggested that everyone eat before leaving, but Vaeri had already eaten dinner before arriving in the village, she was in no rush to eat. Now where was this supposed in?	Name: Vaeri Dryearurdrenn Age: 143 Alignment: Lawful Good Race: Elf Class: Cleric/Barbarian Appearance/Clothing: Vaeri is an innocent looking elf, standing at about 5' 7" (170 cm) with long, straight raven hair that extends down to the base of her back, pale skin and bright blue eyes. At a glance she's quite beautiful with full lips, a small button nose, thin eyebrows and high cheekbones, when one takes a closer look, several tiny scars are visible all over, disfiguring her otherwise graceful looks. Likewise, Vaeri's exposed flesh, the rare times one can see them initially appear smooth and untouched, but upon closer inspection are covered in scars and barely contain wiry muscle below. Vaeri dresses as a lady of the cloth should, with a dark blue full body cloak. The fabric is adorned with intricate patterns in white to provide visual contrast and indicating her status as a clergywoman. Around her neck and outside the cloak, Vaeri wears a necklace bearing the holy symbol of her god. However, underneath the cloak is a full set of leather armor, battle ready and kept in top shape at all times. Skills: Sense Motive, Knowledge (Religion), Knowledge (Nature), Climb, Jump, Sleight of Hand, fletching arrows, surviving out in the wild Natural Abilities: Keen senses, the ability to see better than humans in low light Magic/Spells: Heal: can decide how good this is Tongues: Allows the caster to speak any language for the duration of the spell Turn Undead: Vaeri can attempt to make Undead flee from her presence temporarily. Powerful Undead can resist this. Divine Might: Holy power infuses the caster, temporarily making them more powerful and resilient Flame Strike: Smites foes with holy flames Additional Information: Vaeri worships Menhit, lion-goddess of War. (Fun fact her name means She who massacres) Weapons: Vaeri carries a shortbow and a two-handed battleaxe Possessions: Vaeri carries a backpack that can hold more than you think it would and what Vaeri wants from the bag will always be at the top (the item in question must have been put in the bag beforehand for this to work). Inside the bag are her necessities (tent, rope, bedroll, tarp for the tent, soap, cooking utensils, oil, a lamp, flint and steel), holy texts, and about 2 weeks worth of rations. She also has a coin purse with about 20 gold pieces in it. On her hip is a quiver with 20 arrows. Personality: To strangers, Vaeri appears to be a gentle elf, always keen to help those in need and be a travelling force of good in the world. However, as you get to know her, slowly she morphs into an entirely different person, brash, head-strong and a braggart, this true face of Vaeri shows exactly why she worships the goddess she does. The elf loves battle of all kinds and will gleefully jump into battle whenever she can. History: Vaeri grew up in a forest village mostly populated by other elves to a carpenter. IN her childhood, she began learning the bow as all children did. Her prowess with weaponry was admired just as much as her excessive enthusiasm for using them was worrying. One day while out hunting alone she was overcome by a vision of the lion-goddess Menhit who commanded Vaeri to go out into the world and find a man with two right hands. After this experience, Vaeri began following the goddess of war and has dedicated her life to this mission. The cleric has been following this notice for strong adventurers as a possible lead for locating this mysterious man.
590	13	26	2,489	654	True enough, the activity picked up as a few more souls entered the shop, looking to invest in this quest. By the words the Sister provided, so few others had attempted to take up this job before they had all arrived today - a curious coincidence, Hanzo supposed. Nevertheless, the staff passed out to each willing patron a list of just the rare ingredients they would need to find, with the assurance they were provided with everything else. ...'Tear of Eyewing'? 'Blood of Mist Dragon'? These were indeed exceptionally rare ingredients to find at all, and at first Hanzo found himself unable to quite fathom what sort of concoction would require these things. But, then again, the monk did know that Cinder Sickness was not exactly a 'natural' sort of plague, so perhaps that called for an unnatural sort of cure. One of the more mysterious ladies that had arrived and made herself known within the group asserted that this job wasn't impossible. The roguish man was far less certain of that, him too being notably perplexed over these special extractions to be obtained. And then the situation simply grew more diverse, with a blood-spattered sorcerer that simply arrived to take a list and some containers, followed by an impish... imp? No, a goblin, rather; whatever the case, Sana was certain they had met before, apparently having been fellow adventurers in some past crusade. Of course, all the strangeness did not stop the rapidly-forming party from eschewing courteous manners. Taking a quick cue from the mystical Sana's introduction, the fair crimson-haired girl introduced herself as Fiona, sparking a chain of names given out by each member: Tobias was the cynical-sounding man accompanying Fiona, based on a few off-hand comments. The boisterous goblin was Drizzak, according to a surprised and then reassured Sana. The elfin maiden in holy garb was Vaeri, as she personally announced. Having arrived late, it took Hanzo a bit to piece together that the blaze-skinned tall man was called Zack. The strange undead with the yet stranger companion was Zam, and his companion Mortosh- no, wait, it was the other way around. Was it? Who was what, there? He had lost track in all the commotion. The monk furrowed his visage while racking his memory for the proper arrangement. As Hanzo tried to relieve the pressure by claiming a few of the vials for his possession in the group, Sana moved to the exit, offering the group the idea of staying at the local inn for breakfast. The monk rolled over the prospect in his head, and decided it would be proper to accept and join in. He came fully back to reality about when Sana mentioned that "Big Brut Pally Hugh" would be there; unfamiliar with her slang and having missed the context, Hanzo shot a brief look of puzzlement at the entrance where the gypsy had been standing, only to spot her already out the door. He breathed a quiet sigh through his nose and shook his head, somewhat exasperated over the turn of events that were playing out. "Quite a group we have assembled here," the lone traveler audibly mumbled. One final thing still nagged at his mind, though- "Before I forget myself, you may call me Hanzo. I am just a traveling monk who happened upon this plight, looking to give whatever aid I can."	Name: Tobias Age: 22 Alignment: Chaotic Good-ish Race: Human Class: Thief Appearance/Clothing: Skills: Bluff, Acrobatics, Charm, Athletics, Sneak, Theft, Streetwise, Knife-Wielding, Knife-Throwing. Natural Abilities: The power of average-ness. Magic/Spells: Not a scrap of it. Additional Information: Tobias isn't the strongest fighter, being far more suited to running, hiding, or bluffing his way out of situations (he's capable by normal person standards, of course - just not really what you'd expect from an adventurer). He's also a massive pathological liar with trust issues a mile wide. Weapons: He has three knives - one on his belt, one on his back, and one in his boot. Possessions: Leather armor, basic adventuring supplies (rope, flint and steel, etc.). His hood is enchanted to make it very hard for someone who sees him with it up to remember his face. He also has a magic grappling hook enchanted to not make a sound. Personality: Tobias is glib, smart-alecky, cowardly, and tries his absolute best to be self-centered. Though he'd feverishly deny it, he's a fundamentally good person underneath the assumed selfish. He tries not to let anyone get close to him, and often uses snark and flat out lies as armor in social interaction. History: Getting the truth out of him about his personal history is extraordinarily difficult, but it's possible to determine that he's an orphan who grew up on the streets and has spent his life so far living in cities and alternating between pickpocket, con-man and cat burglar in order to survive. Also, hai Kronshi. Funny meeting you again. :p
591	13	27	1,451	685	Fiona had never really been worried. Maybe a week ago she would've thought Tobias would bolt on her at the first sign of trouble, but after he didn't take the first few opportunities to scurry off, she figured he wouldn't take the rest. And she did honestly think he would be a valuable addition to the group, even if he didn't help much against any enemies they might face. So far the group appeared to be nothing but combat and magic experts, and while she supposed a few of them likely had some hidden charm... she doubted it would be the goblin, at any rate. Making sure to grab her own share of the supplies the nun had laid out for them, Fiona thanked her and exited the apothecary behind Tobias. The group seemed to be mostly making their way to the inn for some proper breakfast before they set out, and Fiona was too tempted by that to resist, he stomach grumbling on the way over. She was willing to bet the innkeeper was a bit overwhelmed with all the sudden guests, many of which could probably eat a great deal. Having gotten used to Tobias's mannerisms by now, Fiona largely ignored his introduction of them, and briefly searched the inn's current occupants for a place to take a seat. In the end, she picked out a spot closest to the monk, Hanzo, as he introduced himself, and took a seat, catching the inkeeper when she could and ordering something simple to eat. She had to admit she'd never met a adventuring monk before, and found him interesting.	Name: Fiona Age: 22 Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Human Class: Fighter Appearance/Clothing: Reference 1, Reference 2. Fairly average height, with a lean and toned build. Fiery, wild red hair and light brown eyes, skin tone a fair, slightly pale coloration. Skills: Close combat fighting, speed and agility, moderate strength, excellent horseback riding skills. Proficient both armed and unarmed, moderate endurance for taking hits. Good at cooking with relatively little to work with, and while likely irrelevant, good at farming. Natural Abilities: None - Human Magic/Spells: None Armor: Roughly as seen in the image, some pieces of scavenged light plate, most effectively protecting her right arm. Weapons: Use reference 2 for example. A fairly standard curved longsword, lightweight but sturdy. She has a dagger sheathed on her left thigh for emergencies. Possessions: Little of note. Her clothes, weapons, armor, packs, supplies, basic medical items and personal belongings. Most of it kept in her horse's saddlebags. Personality: Fiona's bold and brash, often unafraid of things she probably should be, and in general a very confident and self-assured individual. Like any good adventurer she is both curious and brave, but also deeply selfless, not preferring to use the word 'mercenary' to describe herself, as this implies the coin is the end goal she works for. Mostly she just enjoys her life for what it is: a chance to explore, meet new people and see new things, and help wherever she can, with what skill she has. Though typically a loner, she doesn't turn down help when offered, and tries to work together with others as best she can. She's an inexperienced, terrible liar, preferring both her combat and her conversation upfront and uncomplicated. History: Fiona's story is a relatively simple one, starting with a family not important enough to even have a lasting name. She's simply Fiona, of the village of Drayden, a little farming community quite a ways from many large population centers. Fiona was an only child, and thus assisted a great deal around the farm, becoming strong and physically active as a result. Wandering adventurers inspired her even as a teenage girl, and her mind would not be swayed from eventually leaving the family farm to see the world. When they were eventually able to hire some help, she used what coin she had to purchase some basic equipment, and set out at age 19, blade in hand, hunting for contracts. Naturally, without the best of training or a good starting foundation of equipment and knowledge, Fiona struggled in her first few years, but learned from her mistakes, and has developed into a competent and even confident fighter, willing and able to take on problems the average person doesn't want to deal with.
592	13	28	1,293	2,511	As Zarxire looked over the list, he thought about all the books he read. He knew where to find all of these but some would be damn near impossible. "Hellhound, you can only find those in the abyssal plane of hell. Those things are extremely strong, not to mention the items we'll need just to open a dimensional rift to travel there and back." It seemed like nobody was paying him any mind though and so he simply followed the group to the inn. When he entered he noticed a mountain of a man about as tall as Zarxire was but much more muscular. There is no way this guy is human. On that note, Zarxire made sure his horns were covered and then re-adjusted his robe to cover his tail better and walked over to him. "Hello, you must be Hugh. I'm Zack, naturalist, historian, planist, behaviorist, and wizard. I have studied many books on many things and I hope my advanced knowledge will be of help in finding these," He hands Hugh the list he was given, "Quite the rare and interesting items. I hope we can retrieve them all before it's too late." Zarxire took a seat at the table Hugh was at, making sure to leave a space for Sana to sit beside him. "For those that came in after I introduced myself, I'm Zack, a trained wizard hoping to make a name for himself. I look forward to working with you all." He looked over the weird bunch that assembled after he had shown up. Mostly humans but there is an elf, a goblin, a skeleton, and a small fairy of sorts that I have never seen before, perhaps it's in one of my books that I brought with me. Zarxire brought out his book on exotic and rare monsters and skimmed through it, to most it would seem as though he was looking for the creatures on the recipe list, but he was truly trying to find the fairy.	Name: Zarxire Age: 44, but due to Tieflings aging slower he appears 31 Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Tiefling Class: Pyromancer Appearance/Clothing: Except with the typical Tiefling horns and tail Skills: Intimidate, Knowledge (Arcana), Knowledge (Geography), Knowledge (History), Knowledge (Nature), Knowledge (Nobility), Knowledge (Planes), Knowledge (Religion), Perception, Sense Motive, SpellCraft, Pyromancy, Survival Natural Abilities: Hellfire: "Tieflings are able to fuel their rage into their attacks, leaving burn marks on their foes without ever summoning a flame." -Adds fire damage to all melee attacks, can only be used when extremely pissed, which is easy for a tiefling. Spiked Tail: "Some tieflings tails grow in with a sharp serrated edge. These tails are typically thicker and can be used in combat." -Can use tail to attack Magic/Spells: Fireball: Umm, does this need a description. Flame Pillar: A giant pillar of flame erupts from the ground, encasing the targeted area in the fires of hell Blaze Storm: Flames exude from the user, coating the area around him in flames Fire in the Body: The user coats himself in fire, lashing out at all those around him Fire in the Mind: This spell makes all of the user's allies feel his burning rage, causing his partners to become more passionate in the fight Fire in the Soul: The user takes on the form of a 20 ft. flaming beast, although this is an illusion and those with high intelligence or those he has told of this skill are un-affected. Fire in the Blood (Passive): Whenever the user takes fire damage, he takes no damage and heals for 1/4 of the damage he would have been dealt. Additional Information: He hates it if someone touches his horns Weapons: No weapons Possessions: A long fire-retardant robe and cloak, and fire-proof boots of his design. Backpack full of books he hasn't finished yet. Personality: Typically a very level-headed and calm person, Zarxire has spent many years training to learn everything he could. Though in the heat of battle, he loses all sense of focus and lashes out at everything that stands in his way until everything that defies him is dead. History: Born to a small Tiefling community, Zarxire was a rather happy and average child. The day he turned 10, raiders destroyed his town. They were seeking to eliminate the "demon scum". All he remembers of this horrifying massacre were the flames boiling around him before he passed out. Luckily, the raiders thought him dead and passed him over, Zarxire woke up with nothing but burning ashes remaining of his town. After wandering in the wilds, learning all about it and how to survive in it, he finally came across a wizard's home on the edge of the woods. Due to him being young, his tails and horns had not grown in yet, so the wizard thought he was human and adopted the boy. Zarxire learned everything he could about magic, religion, the planes his kind originated from, and everything he could about the people, their culture, and their land. He would walk around the village that was not far from the wizard's house and would study the people, learning how they ticked. Sadly, as he grew older the only magic he could learn was fire magic which hinted at his origins. but when his horns started to grown in, it was obvious. The wizard sold him out the the militia, and Zarxire fled back into the woods, taking all the books he could with him. He built his own shelter, studied the books he had scavenged as well as a couple he had bought at markets if he could hide his horns and tail. Zarxire swore to fight against any and all injustice, whether it was dealt be demon, monster, human, or royalty. One day, he saw the notices for The Convent and saw it as his chance to prove himself. By helping a holy church, it would prove that he wasn't just some malicious demon. Not to mention that but his knowledge of the world would be very beneficial to the group. So Zarxire packed his books and made his way to the Village of Gorlton’s Apothecary immediately, wondering who he would be teamed up with.
593	13	29	54	1,340	The Apothecary Shop Apothecary Wylsen made sure to hand over the items to the various people that had come into the shop to aid in this venture and this seemed to put Sister Agnes at some ease. There were many people that had come into the shop asking and even talk of at least one other that would be joining. She wondered though how many would actually venture forth now that they had all the information she could provide at the time. The looks on some of their faces worried her; the looks of at least one was cause enough for concern but she was in no position to be picky right now and she figured there at least had to be some good in them to even show up. Some left as they gathered their things, some stayed and one even seemed to fly sudden out of a hiding hole on another. It startled the old woman slightly, not out of fear but just because it was simply not something one saw every day. “Hello Zam and hello Mortosh,” Sister Agnes said to both of them and waved back to Mortosh, not sure if she should shake his hand or not but she had a warm look on her old features. “Thank you for helping,” she said to Zam and Mortosh before addressing the few that actually still remained in the shop. “And to you all as well. I wish I had more information for you, like a place to start,” she said as she turned and sighed. Wylsen just reached out and gave the sister a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I am sure these folk are capable, what is it you are always telling me Sister? Have faith?” he said with a gring before turning his attention over to Vaeri and nodding. “Most welcome indeed and thank you for being here to need him. Have a safe journey,” he said before going back about his business and turned over towards the one who introduced himself as Hanzo. “Here you go Hanzo,” Wylsen said as he handed over the supplies that Sana had made sure to request for each of them. He felt kind of foolish not thinking that they would need these before she had mentioned it but at least someone had it covered it seemed. “Thank you for your help Hanzo,” Sister Agnes said with a smile before looking over towards the door and wondered if anyone else was going to come in or if there was all there was this day. She would stay though just in case and remain there in the town until they returned. The Inn Sana glanced around as she entered the inn wondering where Hugh had gotten off to; hearing his voice her head turned and she couldn’t help but chuckle at his waiving her over. It was early, the place was quiet and there were not that many people in there and yet he was calling out to her as if they were in the center of a crowded city. In Sanas mind even if they had been surrounded by people and drowned out by noise she doubted he would have had to go through so much to get her attention. He stood towering over most at six and a half feet tall in his bare feet, he was very broad of shoulder and well built, hardly one that would get lost in a crowd; but there he stood waiving her over like a big kid. She had to admit he was rather endearing when he acted like this. Stepping over to the table he had claimed for them by the window she placed the bottles and vials down she had collected from the apothecary before being able to give him her full attention; taking a step to him, she rose up on tip toe as she kissed him softly. “Miss me?” she teased before sitting down at the table and explaining what was going on, pulling out the rather interesting list of items they would need to recover and handing it over to him as the host brought over their food and coffee. “Seems we have a rather interesting group going on. Haven’t caught all of their names yet but figured would learn them on the way,” she said as she unlaced her cloak and let it fall over the back of her chair. “Not sure what to think of them yet, but guess we will find out,” she added before she took a sip of her coffee; then turning went to point out those that she had seen in the shop. “That one,” she said pointing over towards Melvus and then turned as Tobias entered with Fiona and introduced themselves. “And those two,” she said before looking back over towards Hugh. “And of course Zack here,” she said with a smile towards him and a welcoming nod. “There are more,” she said before glancing out the window. “And even one from the Oasis,” she said as she glanced towards Hugh out of the corner of her eye, wondering how he would react to hearing there was someone there from their last adventuring party. The host walked over to Tobias and Fiona as they entered. “Yes, what can I do for you today…Um,” the host paused as he looked them over before looking at Tobias. “I take it you’re the tramp?” Main Street Of Gorlton The small village was beginning to wake up fully; the people were going to and fro taking care of business. Some were leaving the inn after resting for the night; others were entering to get a meal. The shops were beginning to open such as the weapon smith and armor next to the apothecary and a general market the next door down. The stables were being tended to by a younger lad while an older man with a pipe leaned back and puffed on it. The town seemed to have enough to get by but if any were to check as to what was available they would find it was nothing special. All weapons were the most basic as well as armors but at least the smiths did well with what they had and they could repair items if needed. The stables were rented out to people that had their own mounts but there were two horses that were for sale; again about as average as they came. The general market had dried foods, water skins, wines, cooler weather clothing, packs and ruck sacks, grooming items, rope and several other items that one would usually find in such a shop. A rather mundane town to become a victim to such a plague for the local orphanage but then again, perhaps that is why it happened there, because it was so very average and there seemed to be nothing special about it.	Name: Hanzo Jibero Age: 26 Alignment: Lawful Neutral Race: Human Class: Monk Appearance/Clothing: Skills: Acrobatics Survival Historical & Religious Knowledge Climbing & Swimming Perception Emotion Reading Ki Manipulation Martial Arts, Grappling, & Throwing Natural Abilities: Has honed his body to its upper limits in durability and reflexes, and learned to how manipulate his Ki (spiritual energy); otherwise, he possesses no special abilities of note for a human. Magic/Spells: Ki Strike - A focused attack bolstered through Ki. Grants a chance for normal damage to penetrate armor and natural resistances. Can be charged for a slightly greater chance. Ki Blast - Hanzo channels Ki into his hands to throw out a bolt of raw energy that travels a short distance. Functions as a basic magical attack with a chance to penetrate physical armor (akin to Ki Strike), but must be charged to yield the proper effect initially. Ki Mending - A monk's own 'lay on hands' technique using Ki. Restores a bit of health and fights magical impurities. Additional Information: This monk hails from an old culture that bears worship to the spirit of nature, rather than any specific god. They bless the sun and the moon for giving them light, and the earth and its bounty for giving them life. A somewhat nomadic culture, these monks rarely established buildings or relics for anything beyond shelter, aiming to preserve nature as best as they could. This culture took up martial arts and the art of Ki manipulation as a means of defensing oneself without resorting to weapons or lethality, and to hone one's body and spirit to its greatest potential. Life was simple and peaceful, yet active and fulfilling. They took what they needed from nature and kindly returned what they did not, blessing all creatures that lost their lives as fulfilling a greater purpose. For Hanzo, this has since changed somewhat. Where he once could've wandered without ever getting lost, he now struggles to find a purpose in this new reality revealed to him. He has long since gotten over the culture shock of the developing world, however, and still finds himself traveling about, benefiting others where he sees fit. The wonder still remains, however, and the monk can't help but wish for a sign to reveal his own destiny. Equipment: Hanzo possesses no weapons besides his fists, but does wear a small medium of protective gear: leather bracers on his forearms and legs, and a belt with magical properties that reinforces his natural durability. Possessions: Something of a miser, Hanzo carries little gear or money on his person. He is always seens with his monk's clothing (see above), as well as a waterskin, a crest of his clan, and a ring of prayer beads. Should the need arise, the sash he wears can be improvised as a ten-foot rope. Personality: By nature, Hanzo is a respectful individual, treating others with kindness when he can see they deserve it. Through his experiences, however, the monk has learned to only really trust those he has discovered as righteous at heart, even if not always purely good. As such, he comes and goes in his travels, not often staying to maintain friendships but still holding them at heart. Getting to know Hanzo and sympathize with him can turn the monk into a faithful ally, even beyond an initial partnership. As a result of his less fortunate experiences, Hanzo bears a stern sense of justice, and is quite willing to help others in desperate need (for better or worse, at times). He tends to be straightforward, but also cautious and logical - not below fighting others to reach a solution, but wise enough to seek an alternate method. As a part of his vowing of respect as a monk, Hanzo will never willingly kill a fellow human/elf/etc, but when pitted against the 'inhumane' (monstrous creatures and truly sinful individuals) he will not share that grace. History: Hanzo was born naturally within a nomadic tribe of monks. As a youth, he was eager to learn their ways and trained hard to better himself. He found himself fitting in well with the culture, benefiting greatly from its teachings and giving him a fairly fulfilling life, at the time. Of course, some things have a tendency to change so very suddenly. As Hanzo's generation was beginning to reach their coming of adulthood, one girl was suddenly outcast from the monks in what had to be a first in their history. She had always been something of a quiet loner, but what put her off the edge was her possession and obsession with a unique steel knife abandoned in the forest. Though Hanzo was somewhat regretful of her suffering this fate, as he was one of the few people to show her kindness, he was ultimately made to pay it no mind. Disaster struck, however, when but a few moons later, the girl returned in the accompany of a legion of violent warriors. She had discovered that the knife was of their craft, and immediately became absorbed into their vastly differing knowledge. When she weaved a tale of being isolated and betrayed by her primitive family and clan, the battle-bred warriors were empowered to aid her in revenge. So began the crusade against Hanzo's clan, a long night of fire beneath a bloody moon. As fear and panic settled in, a still-young Hanzo was desperately urged to flee, even as family and friends alike were quickly slaughtered under the warriors' powerful weapons. Under the shadow of the forest, Hanzo managed to evade the clan's new enemies, and believed himself to be a solitary survivor. But while the fires still remained in sight, Hanzo was suddenly confronted by the girl, bloody knife in hand. Though she had initially spared Hanzo for the kinship he had offered, the murderer claimed to have dicovered a new way of life, driven by a far more powerful emotion: wrath. Seeing the monk feel his own brand of wrath, she offered him another chance, to channel and release this rage the only way she knew how. Hanzo refused, deciding she had more than lost her mind, and attempted to fight her in his anger. Their tango was brief but brutal, put to a painful end when the murderer was knocked headfirst into a collapse of burning branches, blinding her. He only regrets not having learned her name. The time following was harsh to Hanzo, not because he could not survive but because he had nobody else to survive with. He was alone, his family, friends, and culture all mercilessly slaughtered. Hanzo's outlook changed - it had to, if he was going to truly live any longer. The monk began to wander the world again, a world that seemed to so vastly change overnight, as he passed through many towns, kingdoms, and nations. He would help others as he deemed without compensation, all the while hoping to find some new sense of purpose as she had.
594	13	30	1,533	1,707	The arena was rather large, there wasn't a roof, the sun was high in the sky - it was noon. The temperature was low enough to keep snow, Melvus knew why. He happened to be standing on one end of said arena, on the other was a... another wizard. Many called him the Beast of Goetia, one of the rival factions in Drisbane. "Fabricant of Goetia versus Melvus of Aesil!" The announcer had a magically amplified voice so all of the spectators could hear him. The factions were battling over territory in Drisbane. A simple stepping stone to the crown. "Let the battle begin!" Without hesitation, the opposition grew and morphed until he was fifteen feet tall. "Ah, frost giant form..." Melvus said under his breath. He had studied his opponent and was sure that his opponent had studied him as well. Goetia was known as the most evil faction. The vast majority of their members were, in fact, evil. The Beast of Goetia charged Melvus. Here he comes... Melvus kept his eyes on Fabricant. "Would you look at that!" The announcer was suddenly excited. Melvus soon understood why, his opponent had changed again, at the last second. He now took the form of Frost Drake. He exhaled frost and slashed with his claws. Melvus had been reading recently and had found an interesting spell, it was called Shadow. The caster could no longer be touched or seen, but he couldn't touch anyone else either and could only keep it up for ten seconds, about. As Melvus was going to be hit with his opponent's attack, he could no longer be seen. He quickly made his way behind his enemy and around him appeared tens of swords, about forty, they spun and revolved. "It would appear that Melvus has a new spell up his sleeve! How did he do that!?" The announced was caught off guard, the crowd cheered. Melvus stepped forward and his swords began slicing the air around him, horizontally. "Fabricant has changed again! Now he is in water form!" The swords sliced through the water that was now the enemy wizard's body and did not damage. Melvus unsummoned the swords, to conserve energy. He unsheathed his own sword. He extended his other hand and from it shot an appendage which gave off a warm glow. This was as Fabricant changed back to his original form, he was an elf. A corrupted one, at that. The glowing hand took hold of him at the waist, wrapping its figures around his body. It lifted him and smashed him into the wall. Melvus moved the hand to see his opponent. He wasn't there. "I didn't want to say anything! But it seems that Fabricant has changed again! No wonder they call him that!" The announcer's voice came and Melvus realized something. He cast Ethereal Wings and took to the air, looking for the other wizard... The wind blew and Melvus woke up. The sound of music filled the wizard's ears. His head was resting on the wooden table in front of him. "Where..?" He said under his breath. The his nose caught a whiff of alcohol, food, smoke. His plate, empty of food, was still warm in front of him. I mustove been out for a few seconds... That's what you get when you don't sleep... There's Sana, she was the talker in the shop... Melvus got up from the table and made his way to the table near the window. There were three occupants, a rather large man, maybe it was the Hugh fellow she'd spoken of earlier. There was a cloaked man, he looked like the spellcasting type and smelled like a fire, though that could've been the inn. This, there was Sana. "I neglected to introduce myself earlier... My name is Melvus Garth. I'm a wizard by trade." He took a seat at the table intending on discussing the job.	Removed
595	13	31	290	1,247	It was refreshing to Mortosh to be treated with such kindness was a rarity the woman kind words and smile truly put him at ease and made him believe that this journey would not end in tragedy. he nodded and told Zam to thank Sister Agnes for him he garbed the supplies While going to return most of them not being in need of most of them Zam convinced him otherwise so he toke all the supplies and headed towards Door Zam flew into her hidey hole who then proceed to adjust herself so her head was popping out her hole. Mortosh opened the door and looked back at the now almost empty shop the only ones left where The Monk,Sister Agnes and the Shop owner with a wave goodbye Mortosh and Zam left the shop. It had been a few minutes since he had left the shop and Mortosh was simply wandering around the village Mortosh was wandering he then heard Zam Inhaled deeply "By Trew is it good to have some fresh air the air in the shop was getting very stale" Mortosh Looked at Zam with concern ("Do You Need Your Flowers Zam?") Zam shook her head "no not now just give me them when we find the inn" ("Are You Sure?") "yes Mort i am sure o.k lets just find this fucking inn" Mortosh Just nodded then he realized something he has no idea where the inn is	Name: Mortosh Celjust and Zam Mano Age: last time he counted 696 (Zam is 200 a kid by her races standard) Alignment: Chaotic Good (Zam is Neutral Good) Race: undead but more specifically a Skeleton (Zam is a Petal For more information on those look for them on page 120 of monster manual III) Class: Cleric (Zam doesn’t really have a class as she is supposed to act as an item much like boo from Baldur’s gate) Appearance/Clothing: Mortosh wears an enchanted blue hood that obscures his entire face making appear as a black void with blue lights wear his eyes should be this is to hide his skull. He wears an iron chest plate with iron gauntlets his legs are hidden by a long blue skirt and iron boots (Zam’s Skin is light blue her hair is a darker shade of blue her bang cover her eyes she wares gray cloth dress her wings are the same color as her skin) Skills: For Mortosh it is Hide Diplomacy Knowledge (religion) Survival Heal ( For Zam it is Bluff and Gather Information Knowledge (nature) as Zam doesn’t actually have class I decided that it would be op to give her any more skills Natural Abilities: Undead-Life: as an undead you are immune to age effects and disease. Unbreakable: An undead has no death ticks. Undead appetite: The Undead are able to use the undead appetite encounter power. (Zam) Lullaby: Any creature within a 20-foot-radius that fails a DC 14 Will save is affected as though by a lullaby spell. A creature that successfully saves cannot be affected again by that petal’s lullaby song for 24 hours. The save DC is Charisma-based. Magic/Spells: Remove Fear: Suppresses fear or gives +4 on saves against fear for one subject + one per four levels Create Food and Water: Feeds three humans (or one horse)/level. Bless: Allies gain +1 on attack rolls and saves against fear Calming Embrace: By placing his hands on friends, or foes restores Mortosh will restore a bit of health as calm down bersekers Insect Plague: Locust swarms attack creatures (Zam) Chatter: A spell created by Zam And Mortosh To allow Zam to speak for Mortosh Calm Emotions: Calms creatures, negating emotion effects Light: Object shines like a torch lie. Additional Information: he is a cleric of Trew Barton The god of joy and undeath. The lack of a lower jaw makes it hard to speak so Zam usually translate for him she also sits on his shoulder. Mortosh sometimes will be overwhelmed with greed causing him steal without thought this has caused him to land into a whole heap of trouble in the past. Weapons: A Simple mace (Zam Like most of her race doesn’t carry a lethal weapons but she dose carry a blow gun which she uses to shoot darts laced with sleeping powder she doesn’t use this very often due to the ingredients used in the sleeping powder are quite rare) Possessions: Mortosh Carries a shrunken zombie around his neck (Zam Owns Shinobue a Side blown flute) Mortosh has a jar full of flower that he carries around for Zam he carries it around for so she doesn't faint from hot or thick air EDIT: Three vials of Moderate Inflict Wounds Personality: Mortosh is a very friendly Skeleton he is calm and hard to anger but his years of lacking the capability of speech has damaged his social skills quite badly which can make him come off as insensitive. while he is perfectly of take on offensive role he dose fell uncomfortable hurting others be they man or beast but he will not complain if fighting is necessary.(Zam is quite battle hungry once again by her races standard anyway she can’t really stand the thought of staying in one place to long she also has obsession with sugar give her some and shell be your friend for life ironically this is not the reason way she follows Mortosh) History: 696 Years ago Mortosh rose from his grave no memory of his past life the only thing he remembered was his cleric training Mortosh spent a good chunk of his first fifty years searching for his past to no avail Realizing that trying to search for a past that he no idea about or even the reason why he was searching so he gave up on searching and decided to just travel why? He didn’t know back then but now he know he was looking for purpose and he found it when he encountered a necromancer and a follower of Trew. He spoke to Mortosh and told him about Trew. Mortosh was intrigued with Trew so asked the necromancer how he could show his loyalties to Trew and the necromancer handed him the shrunken head. Confused Mortosh asked the necromancer about the head and he told him that the head was the symbol of Trew then he requested that Mortosh would spread the massage of Trew. Mortosh accept the his request but before he went he realized one thing. He would be run out of any village or town before he even toke his first step so asked the necromancer to enchant his hood so it would only show a void. So The necromancer enchanted Mortosh’s hood so with his enchanted hood on Mortosh thank the necromancer and went on his to spread the word of Trew and that how he spend his next two hundred years spreading the word that was until he angered a zealous paladin who broke his jaw to pieces. With no jaw all his words came out as mumbling so not being able to spread the word he turned to learning healing magic so he spent the next hundred years learning. this was around the time that Zam was Born two hundred years ago Zam was. Born in to a tribe of petals a race of tiny fey creatures she was treated well enough but she was still an outcast among her race she wasn’t as talented in art as the rest of her race. So she turned to other thing like spellcraft this is what taught her to speak all other tongues she would later encounter Mortosh when he would save her from a plague walker. Mortosh Seeing that Zam had gotten hurt would go on to heal all her wounds. Grateful for his deed Zam asked him what she could do for him. Mortosh lowered his hood and showed her his lack of lower jaw and he needed someone to speak for him as she was the only one that understood what he was saying she agreed and they have been traveling ever since
596	13	32	2,649	479	Hugh's ecstatic waving was suddenly interrupted by this character wearing a cloak whom introduced himself as "Zack" and a whole slew of other things that went in one ear and out the other, except for the last one; wizard. "Oh, uh, I'm-" The wizard quickly handed Hugh a list of items, thoroughly perplexing him. "Okay, yeah, I guess they are rare." Hugh looked over the list, not really sure what many of the items were, or whether or not they were rare. He could only agree with the man currently speaking. Hugh's confusion was relieved when Sana finally came over and stood up on tip toes to kiss him. What she hadn't seemed to realize was that Hugh had shortened himself while she was setting the vials down, so as to receive a kiss. It was kind of a habit he usually did without noticing. Normally she would drape her arms around him, or he would lean down and kiss her. He decided not to wrap her arms around her and show a lot of affection since they appeared to have company and that might be a little putting off for the newcomer whom identified as Zack. "I did miss you. So very much." He said with a loving smile. He seated himself as she did, and listened intently to what she had to say. She directed his attention too and fro, looking from person to person, identifying them as members of their latest group. She caught his attention more with the words “And even one from the Oasis”. An eyebrow arched upwards, as he looked towards her, not really sure what to expect. There were people he liked and people he hadn't liked. His mind raced through different faces of who it might have been. His face went back to normal, and he finally said "So who might it be then?" He suddenly held up a hand, "Hold on." He stood up, "You haven't eaten anything or had anything to drink!" He suddenly said, looking towards Zack. He looked around, to different areas of the room till he spotted the exact person he was looking for. "Barmaid!" Came his summons to a rather young looking female working at the inn. He waved in the friendliest and most frantic looking way he could muster. Little did he realize at that moment he was so much of a tower of a man, that he didn't need to try so hard to get the young lady's attention. Of course, his actions were a little put off when another wizard introduced himself by the name of Melvus Garth. "Alright, take a-" His words were cut off by the man taking a seat, "... yeah." He directed his attention back to the barmaid, hoping his summons worked.	Name: Hugh Van Halder Age: 45 Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Human Class: Fighter, Ex-Paladin Appearance/Clohing: He stands at 6'2", a tower of years of built up muscle. He wears a dark earthen blue tunic over a white linen three button pullover shirt. He wears a pair of black shorts(under his pants) and a pair of dark gray hosen(medieval style pants). He'll wear a chain mail shirt and these pauldrons additionally he'll wear leather knee and shin armor. He wears a small gray hood and a bear fur cloak. Skills: He is a good brawler and can fight with anything he can get his hands on(He's used bed rolls before). Horseback riding. Swordfighting, throwing axes, and two handed weapon fighting. He's been able to use crossbows before, but despises them, as they are delicate and take a lot of work just to reload. Bushcraft and survival stuff. Smoking(if that qualifies as a skill). Some cooking. Natural Abilities: He's strong and durable and can take a lot of beatings. He's pretty much a tank. He can drink a lot of alcohol and only get buzzed. Otherwise, he's just a normal human. Magic Spells: N/A Additional Information: He is in a relationship with Sana Rawn. He has a draft horse, named Rodger. Weapons: He wields a large crude looking battle axe and a falchion. Additionally, he has one small crude throwing axe. Possessions: A rucksack with jerky, bread, cheese, rags, spark rocks(basically one is made of magnesium), rope, ladle, cooking knife, two plates, and tobacco. He also has saddle bags on his horse, which he stores his pipe, more tobacco, sugar cubes, a brush, a stick and bow(which he uses for lighting his pipe), and a few salt licks. He has two water skins. One he keeps on his horse, and one on his person or in rucksack. Additionally he has a pot and a frying pan strapped down to the outside of his rucksack. He also wears a ring on a little chain around his neck and he never seems to take it off, as it was given to him by Sana. Personality: He is a more contented man, liking simple things in life, especially enjoying smoking his pipe with a wonderful scenery, usually in the form of a beautiful day and his love, Sana. He has a more realistic attitude towards the world, not being an idealist, only doing things to help. He has great respect for the natural order of things, and you won't find him trying to seek out revenge. He still has a fiery temper when it is stoked enough to come out. History: Hugh was once part of a great order of paladins. They had much land and ruled with wisdom. Their lands were prosperous and fertile. Many were jealous of their lands, but no one had the courage enough to take on the great and Noble order. Their paladins were fierce and formidable fighters. They all stood higher than 6' and were towers of muscle. They were truly terrifying men. But they were brought down under scandal. Fabricated accusations about them stealing their riches and enslaving other groups of people for labor. The scandals kept growing until they were set upon by every surrounding nation. They stood no chance. Many were killed, only a few escaped. They have been long since forgotten, after being hunted for almost two decades, and killed off, until it was concluded that they were finally extinct. Hugh hid among tribes of barbarians to survive. The tribe was good to him, making him one of their own. He had built a life of simplicity. Some warring between other tribes would often end with them being brutalized and then integrated. Hugh had found love in a woman taken from one of the defeated tribes. He had a few sons and lived very happily with her, until they were set upon by a purge of the "savages". Hugh's tribe was wiped out and he was orphaned once again. He had brutally killed all the "civilized" army he could, but it was too late. His tribe was all gone, along with his family. He became a wanderer, and left to find life as a mercenary. In that life, he found an adventure awaiting him in a tavern. The tavern was filled with life, when he came in and joined up with a questing group. There he met a gypsy woman by the name of Sana. He got to know her going on this random little adventure with this party. It was all rather simple and jovial at first, until they were all taken captive by a lich. This lich tried to take Sana from them, and in that moment Hugh only felt desperation and rage. He had slowly begun to realize that he had fallen in love with Sana, and that if he lost her nothing would change about his existence as a wandering mercenary, and he would simply keep losing people he deeply cared about. So he took a chance at love, and broke out of his cage in a fit of rage. He fought like a lion to get to Sana, finally winning out(love triumphs over all!) against the hordes of undead after his party came to his aid. Since then, he's been a contented old soul, taking care of Sana and showing her his love for her, even though he has never said the words.
597	13	33	677	1,382	Vaeri kept her hood up as she wandered through the village looking for the inn. This village was a quaint place, it almost reminded her a tiny bit of her hometown. The quaintness was why she had to keep herself concealed. This place no doubt saw little traffic from non-humans, and even taking that out of account, Vaeri was well aware that her appearance had a habit of unsettling people. So instead she walked around in her cloak, looking slightly less suspect. After all, a clergyman of a deity unknown to the locals would get by a lot easier if everyone who looked upon him didn't think him a cultist. After about fifteen minutes of walking, the elf stopped where she stood and looked around. To her right was the Apothecary. She had made a giant circle. She never had this problem finding her way forests or her hometown. Humans and their 2 dimensional settlements. It made finding your way around so much more complicated. Trying to find where you were in relation to the rest of the town was nearly impossible since buildings blocked everything else around them. Back in Lianyu you could look up and down and get so much more information based on the levels above and below you. Frustrated, Vaeri enters the Apothecary again and approaches the counter. "I'm sorry to bother you again, but could you please direct me to the inn? I haven't been able to find it on my own."	Name: Vaeri Dryearurdrenn Age: 143 Alignment: Lawful Good Race: Elf Class: Cleric/Barbarian Appearance/Clothing: Vaeri is an innocent looking elf, standing at about 5' 7" (170 cm) with long, straight raven hair that extends down to the base of her back, pale skin and bright blue eyes. At a glance she's quite beautiful with full lips, a small button nose, thin eyebrows and high cheekbones, when one takes a closer look, several tiny scars are visible all over, disfiguring her otherwise graceful looks. Likewise, Vaeri's exposed flesh, the rare times one can see them initially appear smooth and untouched, but upon closer inspection are covered in scars and barely contain wiry muscle below. Vaeri dresses as a lady of the cloth should, with a dark blue full body cloak. The fabric is adorned with intricate patterns in white to provide visual contrast and indicating her status as a clergywoman. Around her neck and outside the cloak, Vaeri wears a necklace bearing the holy symbol of her god. However, underneath the cloak is a full set of leather armor, battle ready and kept in top shape at all times. Skills: Sense Motive, Knowledge (Religion), Knowledge (Nature), Climb, Jump, Sleight of Hand, fletching arrows, surviving out in the wild Natural Abilities: Keen senses, the ability to see better than humans in low light Magic/Spells: Heal: can decide how good this is Tongues: Allows the caster to speak any language for the duration of the spell Turn Undead: Vaeri can attempt to make Undead flee from her presence temporarily. Powerful Undead can resist this. Divine Might: Holy power infuses the caster, temporarily making them more powerful and resilient Flame Strike: Smites foes with holy flames Additional Information: Vaeri worships Menhit, lion-goddess of War. (Fun fact her name means She who massacres) Weapons: Vaeri carries a shortbow and a two-handed battleaxe Possessions: Vaeri carries a backpack that can hold more than you think it would and what Vaeri wants from the bag will always be at the top (the item in question must have been put in the bag beforehand for this to work). Inside the bag are her necessities (tent, rope, bedroll, tarp for the tent, soap, cooking utensils, oil, a lamp, flint and steel), holy texts, and about 2 weeks worth of rations. She also has a coin purse with about 20 gold pieces in it. On her hip is a quiver with 20 arrows. Personality: To strangers, Vaeri appears to be a gentle elf, always keen to help those in need and be a travelling force of good in the world. However, as you get to know her, slowly she morphs into an entirely different person, brash, head-strong and a braggart, this true face of Vaeri shows exactly why she worships the goddess she does. The elf loves battle of all kinds and will gleefully jump into battle whenever she can. History: Vaeri grew up in a forest village mostly populated by other elves to a carpenter. IN her childhood, she began learning the bow as all children did. Her prowess with weaponry was admired just as much as her excessive enthusiasm for using them was worrying. One day while out hunting alone she was overcome by a vision of the lion-goddess Menhit who commanded Vaeri to go out into the world and find a man with two right hands. After this experience, Vaeri began following the goddess of war and has dedicated her life to this mission. The cleric has been following this notice for strong adventurers as a possible lead for locating this mysterious man.
598	13	34	2,489	654	Tobias spread his hands theatrically and smiled at the barmaid. "Very astute of you. The tramp will have a mug of your very finest swill, if it isn't too much trouble," he said, biting his cheek to resist the temptation of the girl's delightfully unsecured coin purse. His itchy fingers could doubtless swipe it without her noticing... but in a room full of adventurers, it was probably best not to chance it. He scanned the crowd inside the inn warily. Mostly his prospective companions, really. Fiona had moved to sit by the monk/demon cultist - Hanzo was his name. Sana was kissing and then speaking to someone new, a large older fellow - perhaps that was 'Big Brut Pally Hugh'. Tobias took a moment to register the hope that 'Pally' didn't stand for 'Paladin'. He never got along with paladins. The demon was sitting with them - apparently he wanted to be called 'Zack'. Also speaking to them was the sorcerer, who looked a little weary, like he'd just woken up from a nap. Well, that seemed to be the highest density of his new 'friends'. If he was going to begin ingratiating himself with the people who'd be slaying Mist Dragons for him, that seemed like a place to start. The rogue moved through the crowd and plopped loudly down at the table. "Cheers, adventurers! Tobias, for those who missed me: pickpocket, common scoundrel, dashing rogue, incorrigible trickster, defiler of a modest amount of daughters (all entirely willing, I'm not a nutcase), career criminal, con-man, cat-burglar, oh-so-loveable coward, savior of silly girls that get in over their heads, and now, prospective adventurer!" The thief leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table. "Charmed. Oh, and if any of you are bothered by the 'career criminal' thing... I can run faster than you."	Name: Tobias Age: 22 Alignment: Chaotic Good-ish Race: Human Class: Thief Appearance/Clothing: Skills: Bluff, Acrobatics, Charm, Athletics, Sneak, Theft, Streetwise, Knife-Wielding, Knife-Throwing. Natural Abilities: The power of average-ness. Magic/Spells: Not a scrap of it. Additional Information: Tobias isn't the strongest fighter, being far more suited to running, hiding, or bluffing his way out of situations (he's capable by normal person standards, of course - just not really what you'd expect from an adventurer). He's also a massive pathological liar with trust issues a mile wide. Weapons: He has three knives - one on his belt, one on his back, and one in his boot. Possessions: Leather armor, basic adventuring supplies (rope, flint and steel, etc.). His hood is enchanted to make it very hard for someone who sees him with it up to remember his face. He also has a magic grappling hook enchanted to not make a sound. Personality: Tobias is glib, smart-alecky, cowardly, and tries his absolute best to be self-centered. Though he'd feverishly deny it, he's a fundamentally good person underneath the assumed selfish. He tries not to let anyone get close to him, and often uses snark and flat out lies as armor in social interaction. History: Getting the truth out of him about his personal history is extraordinarily difficult, but it's possible to determine that he's an orphan who grew up on the streets and has spent his life so far living in cities and alternating between pickpocket, con-man and cat burglar in order to survive. Also, hai Kronshi. Funny meeting you again. :p
599	13	35	1,270	2,337	Lob had parted ways with his friend at the temple. She had handed him the copy of the notice and a sprig of herbs she had bought from the apothecary the night before. It was a bit like a doting mother sending her child off to the school as she put her fingers through his orange mane one more time. "Follow the smell, hand them the note." He sniffles the healer and her rose oil one last time before taking in the new scent of the lavender. In his primal mind he can almost see the spectral line that is its scent leasing away from the temple. With all of four posessions to his name, he lopes about close to the ground to take in great lungfulls of air. But the closer he gets to one building, the more it reeks of so many other smells! Some are good and some are bad smells. The soot of burning, Man in oiled leather, Strong scent ofwoman who had scent of man on her, Woman and steel, Man and beastblood, DEATH! That scent of decy brought him out of his reviree to look with his eyes an not his nose as he looks in the door of the place full of dried plants. Woman and leather, Man and sweetsmoke, and... The six-six savage in black hide armor stared down the goblin in bear mantle with wide eyes before he let out an exclaim: "LITTLE ME!" He then looked out at the rest and held up the notice that brought the rest to this point in their collective life stories. Rocking back on his heels a bit he squatted down to a less menacing posture and explained as best he could. "Good find, smell dog." Then again, what is life without its little challenges?	Name:Lob-otto-me! Age:21 (old for a half orc) Alignment: Chaotic Good Race: Half-orc Class: Barbarian(Brute Kit) (estimated 6th level based on wizard spells, 15 THAC0) Brute Description: The most primitive barbarian, the Brute combines traits of both humans and animals. He is heavily built and thick-boned, with a sloping skull resting low on his neck, and fanged jaws protruding over a receding chin. Coarse hair covers his hide-like skin. Long, powerful arms let him lope on all fours and clamber up trees like a monkey. Lacking the intelligence of other barbarians, he depends on his keen senses, natural resilience, and sharp instincts to help him survive. Requirements: A Brute has a maximum Intelligence of 6 and a maximum Charisma of 8. (Treat Intelligence scores of 7 or higher as 6, and Charisma scores of 9 or higher as 8.) A Brute gains a +1 bonus on his initial Strength score or a bonus of 25% on exceptional strength. Homeland Terrain: Any, with Mountains, Jungle, and Forest the most likely. Role: In his homeland, the Brute’s life consists of hunting, sleeping, and fending off predators. Consequently, he values personal virtues that enhance the chances of survival, including cooperation, courage, and genmiv. His moral code consists of two basic principles: (1) do no harm to those who pose no threat, and (2) destroy those who would harm him or his companions. The Brute has no use for virtues and vices associated with civilized societies. Etiquette, greed, personal honor, and loyalty to abstract principles are unknown to him. He can’t be insulted or blackmailed, nor can he be tempted with treasure. A Brute’s interests seldom extend beyond his current needs; with food in his stomach and a soft patch of ground on which to nap, he’s as content as he can be. A Brute allies himself with an adventuring party for companionship, protection, or even the promise of regular meals. He remains loyal so long as his companions treat him decently. He has no aptitude for leadership, strategic planning, or negotiation; he takes orders from anyone he trusts. He serves his party as a forager, hunter, and combatant. Though a Brute’s companions may admire his loyalty and friendliness, they may also balk at his animalistic behavior. He howls at the moon, licks himself clean, and grooms animals by picking bugs from their fur. He eats raw meat, tearing apart carcasses with his teeth. He speaks in grunts, never more than a few syllables at a time. He identifies friends by their smells, and investigates strangers by sniffing them up and down. Secondary Skills: Fire-maker, Forager, Hunter. Weapon Proficiencies: A Brute begins with only two weapon proficiencies. Thereafter, he gains new proficiencies at the normal rate. Required: Club. Brutes must select all subsequent proficiencies from the following choices: axe (any), Celt, dagger, knife, spear. Non-weapon Proficiencies: A Brute begins with only one non-weapon proficiency. He gains new proficiencies at the normal rate. Bonus: Danger Sense. Recommended: Artistic Ability,Endurance, Fire-making, Fishing, Foraging,Hunting, Light Sleeping, Tracking, Wild Fighting* Barred: Agriculture, Alertness, Boating, Crude Armorer, Crude Bowyer/Fletcher, Crude Weapon smithing, Dancing, Horde Summoning, Leadership, Pottery, Riding (Airborne or Land-based). Economic System: Trade-free. Wealth Options: The concept of trade is new to the Brute, because he’s used to foraging whatever he wants from the wilderness, and doing without if he can’t find it. He begins with no funds or tradable goods. After the barbarian spends some time in the outworld-say, after he’s advanced one level-the DM may allow him to learn a barter system. Armor and Equipment: The Brute begins with padded or leather armor, usually a large fur with a hole in the center, slipped over his head to hang down his body. A Brute may not use any weapons other than those listed in the weapon proficiencies section above. A Brute rarely uses a shield; it interferes with hunting. Special Benefits: Enhanced Natural Armor: The Brute’s coarse hair, thick skin, and dense bones give him a natural armor class of 6 (boosted to AC 4 when he wears padded or leather armor). Improved Climbing: A Brute climbs as a barbarian two levels higher. Wild Brawl: When fighting without weapons, the Brute can propel himself into a berserk frenzy. Bites, punches and kicks are all directed at a single opponent. A single attack roll is used to determine if these attacks finds their mark. Damage is ld6. Enhanced Sense of Smell: A Brute can trail a human, animal, or demi-human by scent, presuming the quarry made the trail within the previous 24 hours. The Brute must be familiar with the quarry, or must have a sample of the scent (a scrap of hide, a lock of hair, a piece of clothing). A Brute has the same chance to follow the trail as if he had the tracking proficiency. (Refer to Table 39 in the Player’s Handbook. Use only the modifiers relevant to following a trail by scent, including those associated with the number of creatures in the group, elapsed time, and inclement weather.) Use the Brute’s Wisdom score to make tracking checks. If the Brute has the tracking proficiency, he receives a +2 bonus to his checks. A Brute can also identify a particular character or creature by its lingering aroma, presuming the character or creature was in the area within the past 24 hours. The Brute must be familiar with the creature or have a sample of the scent. The Brute identifies the scent with a successful Wisdom check. Surprise Bonus: Because of the Brute's sharp senses, he receives a +2 bonus to his surprise rolls. Special Hindrances: Reduced Movement: A Brute has a base movement rate of 12. Language Limit: A Brute can't know more than a single language. Limited Magic: A Brute will not use magical items that require command words or concentration for their use. He can use magical potions, clothing and weapons. ** Leaping and Springing. The barbarian fighter is skilled at making leaps (horizontal jumps) and springs (vertical jumps). To make a running leap or spring, he must have a running start of at least 20 feet in a straight line; less than this, and the best he can do is a standing leap or spring. Standing leaps and springs are made from stationary positions. Table 8 indicates the horizontal distances (for leaps) and vertical distances (for springs) for barbarian fighters of various levels. Distances are expressed in feet. Roll the die separately for each leap or spring. Back Protection. Table 9 shows the barbarian fighter's chance of detecting an attack from behind, made by any character or creature. If the barbarian successfully detects the attack, he avoids it. Additionally, the barbarian is entitled to counter-attack the attacker immediately, even if the barbarian already attacked that turn. Example: Grog the barbarian makes a club attack against a lizard man, while an ogre attempts to attack Grog from behind. After resolving his attack on the lizard man, Grog makes a back detection roll and succeeds; therefore, the ogre receives no special attack bonuses for attacking from behind. The ogre makes a normal attack against Grog; Grog is allowed a "free" counter-attack against the ogre. All of this occurs in the same round. Climbing. The barbarian fighter can climb walls and other surfaces-including ledges, cliffs, and trees-without the aid of tools. Table 9 indicates success chances. This skill works like the thief's climb walls ability Appearance/Clothing: 6'4" 250 Lbs Skills: Weapon specialization: Great club, (+1 hit +2 damage) Weapon proficiency: Dagger, Throwing Axe, Battle axe, Spear Armor proficiency: Padded, Leather Secondary Skills: Forager. Bonus: Danger Sense, Endurance, Hunting, Light Sleeping(only need 1 hour of sleep for full rest), Sign Language, Tracking, Wild Fighting(+1 attacks a round, 3 penalty to AC, -3 to hit, +3 damage, good for minion sweeping or easy to hit enemies) Natural Abilities: Heightened strength(+3 hit +8 damage). Darkvision/infravision. Back Detection(40%) Climbing(95%) Running Leap: 3d6+6 Ft. Running Spring: ld6+3 Ft. Standing Leap: 2d4+3 Ft. Standing Spring: ld4+3 Ft. Additional Information: Highly bestial nature who worships the moon. Treats all dogs like family. His homeland terrain is the open plains, he is always considered proficient in survival, tracking, hiding, and animal lore in his home terrain and provides a penalty to his enemies to detect him when trying to surprise them in the plains. Weapons: CLUB! is a greatclub (2d4) that is little more than a bone ripped from the wing of a black dragon and fitted to a handle. Much of its energy is still rather raw from the experience, but its damage transfer the dragonic energy of acid to stop regenerating creatures. Even if it does not drip acid itself, it seems to work half the time to harm trolls and the like.(8/8/15 Gained a permanent +1d4 from shillelagh potion) (3d4+8 11-20) CATCH! A throwing 'axe' which was a parting gift from the last parties bard/cook, she could throw and catch three at a time in the air. It was an entertaining skill he never developed, but it is great for when he needs to hunt rabbits or use with his 'not a hat' if it is too cramped to use his club! Possessions: Hide of hiding! Hide armor made from the hide of a black bear, because black is good for hiding! He proved himself to his lost clan's shaman (druid) who put a 'blessing' (invisibility to animals) on the armor for good hunting. He has learned that he can approach an animal, but after the first attack, they can see him. He also learned the hard way that it only works on normal animals, special animals can see him just fine. Not a hat! is something he uses when he knows he is going to have to fight something directly and dangerous, not when he is hunting for game. When not fighting, he uses the buckler for a plate or to carry things from foraging. Personality: Fairly simple minded, He has a personality that focuses on loyalty to a fault. He is easily coerced by his friends to do most things. History: About one in ten half-orcs can pass for human, he could not. Left out in the woods and the wilds, he was taken up by a tribe of halfling plains-riders who thought him to be a curiosity. He grew in the tribe and grew some more, easily keeping pace with the 8 meal metabolism of the others and foraging for his own when extra hungry. His phenomenal strength lent him a place in the tribe, but his simpler than most mind meant he had no desires for chiefdom. One day, the plains-riders came upon a Gnoll tribe and their overconfidence was their doom. It was a glorious battle and now the halflings ride across the black plains as stars in the sky, but Lob was not one of those. He awoke some days later with a great gash across his forehead but alive all the same. He burned his people as they were to do and wandered on his own, breaking from the circuit of his people to see the rest of the realm. He came into sight of an adventuring party low on their luck and he brought them a whole elk that even the ranger hadn't been able to take down (to which the bard joked that he was the new animal companion for the ranger's lost wolf). They began to keep him like a pet and gave him his new name from the skull scar which he found good as his old name died with his people. The new family took him from woods to still water swamp where they sought out a black dragon and its treasure. The brackish trees were too thick to fly but not to climb as he made his way by branches when the dragon attacked. First it cunningly weakened the party with many animals of the swamp before striking. The party was doing well until the wizard was bitten by a snake and down for the count so Lob took the staff and swung it like a club across the dragons face. The reverberation of the shattered staff loosing all of its stored energy was enough to end the fight as the beast collapsed. But, when it came time to divide the treasures, the in-fighting broke the party in two with Lob merely claiming a trophy of the dragon as his reward. The party split up in town after all was said and sold, enough for some to retire. The city was no place for Lob and so he had one of the fighters help him get his bone made into a serviceable weapon before he left with the groups Healer who chose to go on a pilgrimage to renew her faith and could use his strength. After a few temples, he pilgrimage has been made to pause with this new sickness rising. Since Lob is 'ever so good at finding things', the healer asked lob to help the children while she stays at this village to tend to the sick. Scent tracking* Drizzak -smoked meat, burnt earth and occasionally strawberries.. Fiona - wilderness, the road, and a little of her horse Hanzo -outdoor air, with hints of morning dampness and a slight earthy aroma. Hugh - tobacco, horse, his own sweat, metal, and grass. Lob - Dry dog, dirt, bit of dung Melvis - At the moment, Melvus smells like blood Mortosh -sorta dead with rust smell to him as well as a bit of blueberry Sana - cedar wood and jasmine flower. Sister Agnes-Lavender and rosemary oil Tobias -sweat and red apples. Vaeri -surrounding forest with a hint of cinnamon. Zack -Ash Zam-flowery blueberry and has a hint rust to her scent

Subsets and Splits

No saved queries yet

Save your SQL queries to embed, download, and access them later. Queries will appear here once saved.