Tapestry of the Ages Character Profiles & Noteworthy NPCs

Tiko

Draconic Administrator/Mentor
Administrator
Mentor
Nexus GM
A thread for people to post their characters.
 
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Name: Aeldric Gudmund Gunnarson

Race: Human (Northlands)

Affiliation: Grandmaster of the Elysian Vanguard

Age: 46

Height: 6'3" (190 cm)

Weight: 185 lbs (84 kg)








Aeldric is—much like his faith in the Light—a living example in sturdiness. Broad of shoulder, barrel chested, and long of limb; it would not be untoward to confuse him with a stone wall when glimpsing him from the corner of your eye. What would be untoward however, would be to stand in the path of his righteous charge. Despite his size and mass, Aeldric is a seasoned warrior whose movements in the heat of battle frequently belie the expectations his opponents might have of such a man.

Similarly, his propensity to scowl and be stern of expression often belie his alacrity to smile and aid the unfortunate. Many are the recruits who go through his tutelage with a certain expectation of unyielding hardness—perhaps reinforced by many rebukes growled from tight lips under a piercing hazel gaze—only to find themselves flabbergasted at the friendly ally they meet once they become Wardens.

Regardless of which side of temperament you place him however, it is not uncommon to find the battle worn man in quiet reflection and plainly dressed when not exercising his teaching or other duties.








At the core of Aeldric's being lies a single truth, and one that he unshakably believes in and strives to follow. His only axiom in life; The will of the Light is fundamentally good. His belief that the Light exists to illuminate the righteous path to an orderly life in the world is the core of his dogma. This is not to say that Aeldric is not a wordly man. Unlike others who believe as he does, he does not claim to have an all encompassing knowledge of the workings of the Light, or it's finer turnings.

He simply believes himself to be an instrument for It's will, so that the right path for all might be illuminated in it's light. He is unconcerned with how others might choose to live their lives or what they might believe in, for he himself has seen the Light shine through the darkest of hearts.

In matters not related to his beliefs, he's generally considered either a quiet recluse or a silent yet affable companion depending on where his regard for another is. Among friends he jests freely enough, and while disdainful of drunkards, he's no stranger to giving in to a good celebration. He's loved and been loved, he's gained and he's lost.

He's a man with a life, but one with a self-ordained purpose to prioritize.









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Aeldric's most powerful weapon is his total faith in the power of the Light. For reasons that he has decided are not his place to question, he has found that when it comes to the enemies of the Light, his will serves as a direct extension of the Light's. As long as he believes his course to be in line with the Light's will (and it it's not within him to take any other course) everything he touches becomes an object of Light's righteous retribution against the forces of the Void.

Whether he wields a spoon, a yardstick, or a sword; as long as his target is a combatant against the order that is Light, his weapon will shine brightly with It's fury. This effect manifests itself in a myriad of ways, and immensely empowers the object to the purpose of smiting the Void. Blades become sharper and incapable of being dulled, blunt instruments hit their opponents with the weight of the world behind them, projectiles fly true and pierce through the strongest of barriers. Whatever is needed for Aeldric to champion the Light, It provides for him.

His status as a stalwart champion of the Light did not escape the notice of the lesser divinities, and to him was bestowed a gift of protection from a group of deities aligned with the Light so that It's weapon might be not be easily turned aside. On his person he wears at all times a simple pendant in the shape of a twinkling star, carved from the bough of a living tree.

The ever-warm pendant around his neck serves as a conduit for the favor the assorted gods of the Light granted him, a suit of mystical ethereal armor that is ever ready to protect the champion of the Light at the speed of thought.

Forged of alloys unknown to mortal-hood which shine with an otherworldly inner light and crafted in some lofty celestial smithy, the armor imbues Aeldric with the breath of it's makers so that he might carry out the will of the Light. While wearing it, he's capable of incredible feats of athleticism beyond his mortal body, and unflagging stamina to carry out his duty.

In his experience, only the strongest of Void's kin have ever managed to damage it in order to cause him harm. For all that, after it's wearer has recuperated, the suit of armor is always returned to it's pristine condition upon it's summoning.

Outside of the boons of divinity, Aeldric also has a life time of strife backed experience to serve as his weapon, and the lessons of his own teachers still serve him well. He's experienced with a wide variety of weapons and their mundane use, and is also an extremely well versed hand to hand combatant.








(The annals of the past are yet murky in their recollection, and the writing hand of the present has yet to record them. It is up to the eye of the future yet to see this come to pass.)




 


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Name: Taro Tachibana

Race: Human (Losenji)

Affiliation: The Elysian Vanguard

Age: 21

Height: 5'9" (175 cm)

Weight: 138 lbs (62.5 kg)





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Taro is a slender-built young man of middling height, his most standout features being his head of luxuriously long, light blonde hair and his striking golden eyes. Though not especially broad shouldered, he is athletically built - with a wiry strength borne of long practice with swords and martial arts both.

Most often seen with a mischievous glint in his eye and a smug smirk, despite his overall cheerful and good-humoured attitude, a keen observer would note that his smile often doesn't reach his eyes, behind which lurk a great many unpleasant memories.

Taro wears dark colours for the most part, his light armor black and gold, which contrast his fairer complexion. At his side near-constantly is a smoky, strange-looking spirit that resembles a lion's mane with a menacing mask, a minor manifestation of the dark spirit that clings to him.





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On the surface, Taro is a snarky, smarmy son of a bitch with a dark joke for every inappropriate situation and a habit of not taking things seriously. He far from epitomises the "heroic warrior" that the Vanguard represents by his off-duty behaviour, and seems an oddity surrounded as he is by people who would appear far more dedicated to the cause.

However, beneath this laid-back and irreverent persona, Taro is a troubled young man who wants nothing more than to do enough good in the world to outweigh his past misdeeds. His way of acting is a mask constructed to distract him from the darker thoughts that swirl within him, and keep his spirits high. He is, in reality, devoted and driven to live up to the expectations of redemption placed upon him by those in the Vanguard that gave him a second chance. When it comes down to the wire, Taro is reliable, disciplined and strong-of-will - and it's those attributes that the Wardens who have worked with him for longer come to appreciate.

That is not to say there isn't still a darkness to him, one that was nurtured by his cursed blade and that he fights to keep in check. Though his heart is good, so too is it tied to a being that wants nothing more than to draw him away from the light so that it might once more sew chaos unhindered.





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The cursed katana Taro wields, Kuroakuma, contains the spirit of a powerful yokai of darkness, chaos and misfortune for which it is named. The blade itself is wreathed in shadows that assail creatures with necrotic energy on contact, and is capable of slicing through most mundane substances with ease. Taro can unleash his power directly through the weapon as well, empowering its strikes with raw magic or even causing a shade of Kuroakuma itself to emerge from it to assail foes.

Beyond these capabilities, Kuroakuma is a yokai that feeds off of the darkness in humans and, in a reciprocal loop, influences them to become darker still. Taro currently has control of the spirit, strong enough of will to temper his own darker emotions to the point where the spirit is too weak to influence him or those around him, and is instead bound to his will.

His connection with the blade, and the pact he forged with it when he first took it from its shrine, has granted him an array of other powers as well. These include but are not strictly limited to: curses of ill luck, paralysis and other debilitating ailments, creating and seeing through utter darkness, manifesting aspects of the yokai in his own body, concealing himself and his spiritual presence, disrupting the magic of others through chaotic feedback, conjuring shadowy manifestations of the yokai spirit to aid him in combat, and lashing out with raw unfiltered spiritual power in the form of magical projectiles. His body is also enhanced, enabling him to move faster, strike harder, and receive more damage than a human would be capable of, without suffering ill consequences.

Beyond this supernatural ability, Taro is a talented swordsman and martial artist who has long been dedicated to his training of both mind and body. It is only in more recent years that he has been forced to put these talents more into practice, and though he has excelled, he still lacks a little in experience compared to his more veteran comrades.





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Taro was born the son of a Losenyu shrine priestess, at a shrine dedicated to protecting a cursed sword named Kuroakuma. His father was absent -- having left his mother before he was born, not wishing to be pinned to the simple shrine lifestyle by a child -- and he had no siblings, but there were other priests and priestesses at the shrine, and so he was part of what felt like a whole and happy family nonetheless.

Life was simple for a long time: Kuroakuma was not an especially famous blade despite its curse, and so they were not troubled overly by people seeking to study it, or to take the dangerous weapon for themselves.

The blade was named thus for the yokai that dwelled within it, a dark demon of shadow, chaos, and ill omen that had once tormented the nearby village, bringing about a rise in sickness and conflict by its mere presence. An exorcist named Saizo sought to banish the spirit, but it was tricksy and evasive, and avoided direct confrontation. In the end, Saizo tricked it by declaring loudly that he intended to seek an honourable duel with his rival using the blade he carried, which was a symbol of honour. Kuroakuma thought to interfere with the duel by possessing the sword and causing the exorcist to act dishonourably in the fight, but Saizo had anticipated this, and prepared a binding spell. Thusly, Kuroakuma was trapped within the sword, and the village built a shrine to guard it, so that the yokai might never escape.

Taro's life changed when he was sixteen, when bandits - having heard the legend of the sword in the village - sought to take it. They attacked the shrine, killing those priests that tried to oppose them, and burned it. In a desperate bid to protect his family, Taro took up the cursed blade himself and begged the yokai within for aid. Kuroakuma offered him a deal: 'Let me manifest through you and bring ill fortune and chaos to your enemies, and I will give you the power you need'.

Taro agreed, and the yokai bonded with him, entwining itself with his soul. In freeing the yokai, however, so too did Taro allow it to gain influence over him. In the immediate aftermath of the binding, Kuroakuma took control of his body. Although it killed the bandits, it also slew a number of the shrine priests, including Taro's mother and sister, before he was able to wrestle back control.

When he did regain control, Taro fled the shrine, devastated with what he'd done and fleeing the attempts of the priests to exact justice on him.

Soon after leaving home, Taro fell in with a group of mercenaries named the Black Orchid. Kuroakuma's presence in him had tilted his moral compass somewhat, so he turned a blind eye to the group's darker dealings, concerning himself only with earning the money he needed to survive. And in turn, this darkening fed Kuroakuma's strength, allowing the spirit to begin to influence this group to darker and darker acts.

This lasted for two years, until last year, the group came into conflict with a member of the Elysian Vanguard - after word had reached them of the mercenaries in possession of a powerful dark artefact. By this point, although Taro remained in Kuroakuma's grip, the young man had grown more and more guilty and regretful over the things he was doing, and the spirit's grip was weakening the more he fought back against it.

And so when Adriaan, the Vanguard member who had been sent to retrieve the sword, came into conflict with him and the other mercenaries, it was a battle fought on multiple fronts: Adriaan against Taro and the mercenaries, and Taro against Kuroakuma. Eventually, with Adriaan's coaching, Taro was able to wrest control of himself back in full - and in turn freeing the other mercenaries.

Realising that the sword's power hinged on the darkness of its wielder, and that it could not be separated from Taro easily, Adriaan brought Taro back to Nasazura's Rest, where it was decided that he would be allowed to join the Vanguard himself: to nurture the goodness in him and keep his darkness from becoming such that Kuroakuma could take back control.

Taro himself was grateful for a chance at redemption, still haunted by the things he'd done, and since then has been a loyal member of the Vanguard - albeit one with a dark sense of humour and a slightly unsettling fighting style, occasionally involving a dark spirit leaping from his blade to consume his foes.
 
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fantasy druid
Name: Orbryn Ehlark
Age: 32
Height: 6'1
Weight: 175
Species/Race: Elf/Altari
Place of Birth: Amarathia

Orbryn Ehlark was born into the courts of Amarathia as most of the Altari are, but he knows little but disdain for his own. Born with the mark of the Void upon him left him shunned by even his closest relatives. He was nothing more than a taint upon their court to be hidden away until the Void corruption could be extracted from him.

As the years went on though, no solution or 'cure' was found and the corruption that gifted him an affinity to the Void only grew stronger. Fear, loathing, disgust, or perhaps simply a desire to maintain their own image within the courts of Amarathia drove his parents to discard him to the wilds of Aelora. If the Void wanted him, the Void could have him they determined.

Even as a child though, the corruption within him made him strong. Strong enough to survive.

Separation from civilization took its toll upon the young elf though, and with each passing year more and more of his humanity slipped away until all that was left was a feral shell of his former self. The more he relied upon his connection to the Void, the stronger its hold over him grew, and the further its corruption spread.

It was the Sylvali and their affinity towards the natural world that would prove his salvation though. They saw what the Altari could not. The Void taint that had deformed his arm held no sway over the child's heart. The feral gleam in his eyes was that of a wild animal, not of the Void.

It was through the Sylvali that Orbryn re-found himself, and it was with them that the young elf grew to a man. Through the use of wild magic, and an understanding of balance he learned to contain the corruption within his arm. But treading the line between two volatile magics had its dangers. Care must always be taken to not lose himself to either.
 
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Name: Teressa MineralView attachment 4960
Age: 22
Height: 1,74m
Weight: 72kg
Species/Race: Human, Cordelian
Place of Birth: Triston, Cordelia

Appearance:
Teressa has the silver hair thats often associated with one of the royal noble bloodlines. Her great-grandfather was the 4th son of the brother of Bereal the great. Her families claim to the throne is therefore practically nonexistent. Her body shows the usual signs of physical training. Some not perfectly healed cuts here and there and one or two bruises at pretty much all times. She is wearing a knights suit of armor with her families emblem on it. Her weapons of choice are the sword and shield.

Personality:
Teressa is quite social and cares little about status and station, which is not the norm for cordelian nobility. Ever since she left home she is nursing her hurt pride and fights the memories that torment her. While she is usually in good spirits, quite upbeat and of a joking nature, Teressa is also quick to sulk if things do not turn out in her favour. Which, since her upbringing was quite spoiled, tend to happen frequently, ever since she left her homeland.

Bio:
Teressa comes from a minor noble family, situated in the outer districts of Cordelia. While her family has some connection to the royal line of succession, it is so faint that it pretty much only exists on paper. Her family is a minor noble house tasked with administrative work under the Lord of southern Cordelia. Training to be a knight is custom for minor nobility in Cordelia. Another custom is that noble feuds are often settled through a bout between knights. These bouts are traditionally fought till the first or third drop of blood is spilled. The weapons are blunted and serious injuries therefore quite rare.

After the lord of southern Cordelia passed away without an heir, the question of succession was quite passionately discussed. In the end it was decided to arrange a tournament to fight for the position. Teressas older brother was chosen to represent their house and he did quite well, fighting his way all up to the final. In the night before the final fight he mysteriously fell ill, prompting fierce accusations and retorts about a potential use of poison. Teressas family wanted her younger brother to fight but Teressa, being second in age, insisited on her birthright to fight instead. Quite confident of her abilities she stepped into the arena on that fateful day, only to be utterly humiliated. Having shamed her family and become a laughingstock in the entire area, Teressa left her homeland head over heals, clinging to the idea that heroic deeds in the dangerous wildlands of Aelora might redeem her in her families eyes.
 
Name: Xenia StygianView attachment 5094
Age: 25
Height: 5’5"
Weight: 125lbs
Species/Race: Human/Orlesian
Place of Birth: Orlesia
Occupation:
  • Apprentice of a Blacksmith (formerly)
  • Priestess (presently)

Born in the heavily regulated lands of Orelsia, Xenia was not raised to fear magic but instead to revere it. She was heavily sheltered in her youth, Orlesia was not a forgiving country or society to those who used magic, even worse; necromancy. Her Mother, being a Teacher and Priestess of the Dread Lord, worked at the College that was being operated in secrecy. Xenia would be taught about how cruel and unforgiving the world was and when their kind would be found, she must flee at all costs.

As it turns out, Xenia had an innate ability to Necromancy, an ability that always existed within her bloodline. Naturally, she turned to the college to learn how to use it and the knowledge around it. Her Mother never showed her a hint of affinity, always whipping her into shape, telling her no one would be kind in the real world, and she showed it even more when Xenia was in her classes. Along with Necromancy, she learned about the Dread Lord and his teachings, how he was the only one who could ever love her – all other deities were false gods and to never look to them for help.

In time, as all things related to magic do, the College is found out by a mole. Someone that worked for the Inquisition was sent to investigate the rumors of a college existing right under their noses. The spy sent out reports and the Inquisition sent back-up their way while they continued to pretend their facade of being a student. One day, the bubble they thrived in broke with sounds like glass breaking all around them had caused everyone to freeze in place. Xenia raced to the windows with her peers, finding the protective bubble to be gone, they could see the darkened skies and rain to start pouring heavily. At which, her head whipped in the direction of blood-curdling screams and flashes of light being blasted down the hall.

One of her peers, gripped her hand in theirs and pulled her along to the back entrance. Xenia pushed her emotion aside and helped a few students escape before doing so herself. Like her mother said, she fled the grounds of the school, she ran until her feet blistered and bled.

Things turned out for Xenia, she would be taken under the wing of a Blacksmith, in a village she learned was called, “Black Bend.” For repayment, she helped the Blacksmith with running errands, making him food, and cleaning his place up every day. She remembered the fear and lived in constant paranoia that she would be rounded up, so she asked the Blacksmith to become his apprentice. He agreed but only if she could remember the basics of making a small dagger and a leather helmet. At first, she couldn’t recall how to make it, only knowing the materials. The Blacksmith decided that was enough for her to start, but not before he started molding her into tip-top shape; having her exercise from dawn till dusk and would have her recite basics of making weaponry and armor.

Her luck would run out eventually, the Blacksmith learned from the whispers of his neighbors and travelers from afar that a school of magic was cracked down on only five years prior. One whispered her name and the Blacksmith would turn a blind eye to this until he saw for himself; Xenia worshiping the Dread Lord under his roof. Fear gripped his heart as he didn’t want to be associated with the likes of Necromancy and least of all, The Dread Lord. Xenia was immediately reported to the officials, in which, she learned of while making her way back from the tavern. She slipped away in the cover of a starless night, fleeing from another place she thought safe.

Abilities: Basic defensive and offensive attacks, knowledge of making weapons and armor, photographic memory, innate ability of necromancy but has never used it.

Weapon(s): Staff
 
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Name: Pride
Age: 1 Year
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 165
Species/Race: Primal Fae
Place of Birth: Orewyn Forest


Outfit below

Pride was an accident. An experiment gone wrong. A mage to the elvish races felt that the Void was a threat that they needed more help for, and if the mage could help it, help that they could control and create at will. This mage studied the old ways and history of primal magic, understanding that the old fae came about from it and their lineage is what made up many of the mystical races. Their power, still evident in slight forms from those that shared in the fae bloodline. Armed with that knowledge, the mage went about figuring out how he could create new fae - Fae that he had the ability to control and mobilize against the void.

The plan itself was in good nature, if he could weave life out of the magic found in Aelora they may stand a better chance against the void should they ever breach the barrier - So he set about doing just that, setting up a home in Orewyn Forest where primal magic could be found aplenty. Many of his first experiments failed, resulting in misshaped landscape all around the home - curved hills, deformed trees, misshapen rivers and rocks. No matter how hard he tried to call life to his magic, he was unsuccessful; until his experiments grew desperate and he called on more magic than he could handle.

His magic came at a cost, calling on so much power to shape the world eventually led to him using his own body as collateral - The everlasting change consumed the man and all that he was, memory, ambition, and magic as the primal magic shifted and changed before him. For so long it had been twisted and abused in that space, reacting poorly to the elf's frequent attempts at controlling it's will. With his body consumed the primal magic shaped a new form, taking inspiration from the elf's features in the newborn Fae's creation. This new form lay motionless in a deformed pit in the former mage's home, bleary eyed and lost as the life that was born started to take in it's surroundings. The Fae had no memory to call it's own, but still felt that the space was familiar, it not distorted. It's voice was still there, and it gained it's breath it shouted out a meek "Hello?" to the emptiness that surrounded it. It had been gifted the faint memories of the mage that had worked tirelessly to create it, it could recognize certain things around it; books, a wardrobe, table, walls, it could even read the words upon the many papers that laid strewn across the floor.

The Fae spent an endless amount of time in the basement of this home, scared to venture outwards as it read what was left of the mage's papers. There were many hints as to his creation, talks of failed experiments, a journal that accounted for his goals and how others had frequently discounted his ideas, time and time again the Fae felt sorry for the writer of the papers as he felt a familiar kinship with the man but couldn't place a memory to it. Strangely enough, there was no name signed to the papers so he couldn't even relate or attribute anything he was learning to a source. This frustration at not knowing the writer's name, or his own for that matter grew and grew as the Fae finished reading all that there was to read in the basement - even after going through it twice, and was ultimately the deciding factor for him overcoming his fear and choosing to venture out from the room he was born into. He didn't have a name, but through the writer's papers one thing always stood out - He kept referring to his work as his pride and joy, the meaning of his life and effort. That word kept coming back, Pride, Pride, Pride, so much so that the Fae took it as his own as he shouldered the responsibility for what was left of the writer's work.
 
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Name: Ti'el
Age: 19
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 125 lbs
Species/Race: Vulx/Desert Vulx
Place of Birth: Aramaea

Born among the desert vulx of Aramaea, Ti'el was little more than a wild animal. Their language was simple and mostly nonverbal, with no concept of past and future, only the here and now. They stuck close to their dens, venturing out only to breed and create new families, or to expand territory when theirs became barren of food. Every day was about eating, sleeping, and keeping a wary eye out for danger. Every day was the same.

Then, one day, it was not.

A group of nomads- a name she would not learn for weeks to come- set up camp near their territory. Ever curious, Ti'el spent long hours observing them, never straying closer until one of them coaxed her with food scraps. She swiftly grew accustomed to their presence and began to learn bits of their speech with an ease none could have expected from a barking, yipping, doglike creature such as herself. Through language, a whole new world was offered to her, and she soon discovered that she had little in common with her family. She struggled to teach them and was met only with resistance, one she could no longer understand.

One night, she departed with the nomads, leaving behind the only home she ever knew, surrounded by strangers no matter where she looked. Even as she picked up more words, her mannerisms still resembled that of a fox: boundless energy, raw emotion, jumping at every shadow, and eager to please for slivers of meat. She was not allowed to sleep in the tents and was left by the fires to keep watch.

They traveled far north, where she discovered forests and marveled as the trees towered over her. Thunder shook her to the bone, and rain left her breathless. There was no end of the wonders around them as they traveled.

Eventually, they came to Kaldor, where she met Orbryn. Even with his grim face, she experienced compassion from him that comforted her far beyond anything the nomad groups showed her. Driven by this feeling, she followed him, convinced him to take her in, and learned from him. She discovered a propensity for magic she never knew she had, but could always feel stirring within her. Though she has a long way to go, she finds herself fascinated with flora and different ways to manipulate it.
 
Fayanya
Appearance

Fayanya is a little over six feet tall, with dark brown skin and black hair; short cropped in a soldier's cut. She has green eyes and customarily wears the Varnathian military uniform. She has a small scar above her top lip, and a longer scar on her stomach which is usually concealed by her clothing. Her exact age is not known, but she is somewhere around thirty years.

Bio

The Breq'Anya people are a loose confederation of seven tribes united more by a shared culture than a unified political body. They live nomadically in a seasonal circumnavigation of the savannah plain that bears their name, sprawling from the feet of the eastern spur of Terra's northern mountain ranges. They spend the year following the vast migrating herds that they hunt and supplementing their diet with wild grains and vegetables.

For most of the year the Breq'Anya travel in fragmented clan groups, only gathering at the lakes and ancient, ruined city in the centre of their plain for religious festivals in worship of the stars and their ancestors; which to the Breq'Anya are one and the same- for the Breq'Anya believe that they are descended of stars that fled from the sky to escape a great, cosmic war. The name "Breq'Anya" can in fact be translated as "star-folk".

It was into one of these clan groups that Fayanya was born. Her father died before her birth, and she has only the earliest memories of her mother before she, too, succumbed to fever. Fayanya was raised by Shadar; her maternal grandfather and a Fire Keeper for his tribe- one of the men responsible for memorising the Breq'Anya's long oral history and recanting it around the ceremonial fires.

Fayanya adores her grandfather, and was inseparable from him from the moment she could walk- a behaviour that earned her the childhood nickname Tag-A-Long.

The magical and military upheavals that have rocked Terra in recent generations, especially in the nearby Midlands, have destabilised life on the Breq'Anya plain somewhat, and changes in climate and incursions from new and terrible magical creatures have led to increasing competition for resources where once there was abundance. These changes have caused an increase in both the occurrence and the violence of the once infrequent conflicts between the Breq'Anya tribes.

It was one of these tribal squabbles turned threat of annihilation that led Fayanya's tribe to reach out to the ascendant Varnathus for support. The warlord Sullos; eager to increase the influence of Varnathus on this frontier (as well as to claim further plaudits for himself) was only too happy to step in as mediator.

A hasty alliance was signed, which demanded the surrender of several diplomatic hostages to Varnathus. Among these forsaken Star-Folk was the pre-adolescent Fayanya.

Fayanya was taken into the household of Sullos himself, where she was raised alongside his own children with all the benefits of a Varnathian aristocratic education. She was thoroughly instructed in the superiority of Varnathian culture, law and society, and taught to despise the corruption of magic and unclean races, and to properly venerate the Saviour King, Novos. She was also systematically stripped of her own traditions, religion and language. She was a capable student, and showed a particular proficiency in martial and athletic pursuits.

Whilst she lived a life of material luxury, Fayanya was a lonely child starved for the solace of family. Sullos saw her as a means to his own glory; intending to send her back to Breq'Anya as an adult, to serve as an object lesson in the benefits of Varnathian culture and compliance with their war machine, in order to facilitate an annexation into the growing empire.

As such, although he denied her none of the benefits of his household, he treated her coldly and objectively and never missed an opportunity to reinforce her otherness and the inferiority of her birth. Fayanya's only true companion was Mithros; the youngest son of Sullos and closest to her in age.

When they came of age, Mithros was sent away to study the dangerous art of magic, in order to ensure that this forbidden knowledge remained safely in the hands of only the most elite Varnathian families; as was proper.

Fayanya, meanwhile, was enlisted in Sullos' army, with the promise that after fifteen years service she would be awarded his family name and Varnathian citizenship. After eleven years of campaigns, she has attained the rank of Sargent- the highest achievable to a non-citizen- and a reputation for heroism after a particularly bloody battle, in which she personally prevented her unit from routing, which in turn staved off total collapse for Sullos' army and enabled his elite troops and constructs to turn the tide.

However, if her military service was supposed to further deepen her loyalty to Varnathus and her absolute faith in their supremacy, it has had the opposite effect. For Fayanya has seen first hand the cruelty and ruthlessness of the empire, and the true cost of conquest for the vanquished. Doubt is beginning to kindle in her heart, as she is plagued by fear for her grandfather and the fate of the Breq'Anya people.
 
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Name:
Arthur “Arty” Zuberi
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Race: Human; Caldonian/Terran mix
Nationality: Tirian
Orientation: Homosexual

Occupation: Inventor / Mechanic / Adventurer

Height: 5' 4"
Weight: 124lbs

History:
Arty is the son of a prodigiously talented Tirian inventor named Adnan, the creator of a large number of technological marvels, and honoured by the crown for his contributions to Tirian society. Adnan was sadly killed when Arty was very young. Who exactly his killers were is unknown, but the family suspects that he was targeted due to a secret project he was working on, that never came to fruition as a result - and has since been forgotten.

Though his father did not have an opportunity to teach him, Arty has grown up surrounded by his magitech creations, and being told stories of his genius. Arty’s mother, an immigrant from the north named Sarah, is herself an artist and sculptor of some repute. She raised Arty alone in the home that she once shared with Adnan, assisted by the many gadgets and constructs that Adnan left behind.

This constant exposure to his father’s artifice, and the way his name has always been lauded, has left Arty determined from a young age to follow in his footsteps. He’s spent long hours reading through his father’s journals and designs, teaching himself to take apart his creations and put them back together. A couple years back, he was able - through a mix of the clout of his name and his self-taught genius - to gain entry to a Tirian Magitech Academy, and begin to learn more formally.

However his somewhat gung-ho, spitfire approach to creation and experimentation didn’t sit well with his teachers. Arty had an unfortunate habit of doing before learning, which led to more than one dangerous accident in the school and ultimately led to his expulsion.

Not one to be deterred by such a “minor setback”, Arty has continued to experiment unconstrained, and like his father seems set to become one of Tiria’s brightest minds as he grows and learns. His tinkering and crafting does often have moderately explosive results on the first few tries, but he’s a firm believer in the philosophy that “you can’t learn until you’ve failed”. Sometimes that failure just happens to blow a hole in the wall, and that’s okay!

Soon, Arty will discover something hidden away in a nook in his father’s workshop, hidden behind a secret panel that not even his mother knew about. Within is a heavily encoded journal and a series of similarly obscured designs - the very designs his father was working on at the time of his death. Far from being deterred by this, Arty will see this as an opportunity to finally find out why his father died, and what incredible discovery he had been working on - the only barrier being decoding his father’s writings.

Whether an invention, a discovery, or something else, whatever his father was working on surely must have been world-changing, if someone was willing to kill him for it, and Arty intends to find out.

Abilities/Equipment:
  • Arcane Analysis: Arty is skilled at examining magical energies and items and determining their nature and purpose, using a mix of his own magic and gadgets.
  • All-Sight Goggles: Arty’s goggles are designed to provide vision of all kinds, including: magic detection, darkvision, heat-detection, and limited x-ray vision.
  • Rocket Board: Arty has created a magical ‘hoverboard’ that he can ride upon to fly at high speeds with … questionable precision. He’s just about gotten flying it down, but accidents still occasionally happen.
  • Gravity Disruptor: A gadget that allows brief disruption of gravity on an object or person, causing it to float. Often used after the aforementioned rocket-board accidents to avoid meeting a sticky end on the ground below.
  • Grapple Hook: A relatively simple device that launches a wire with a hook or clamp on the end, that can then be reeled in.
  • Power Fist: A magical gauntlet that enhances Arty’s strength and allows him to punch things really hard, or lift them, utilising telekinetic force. Can also discharge electrical energy.
  • Arcane Disruptor: Small bomb-like devices that, when thrown and detonated, can briefly disrupt magical energies - interrupting spellcasting, dispelling magical effects and temporarily disabling magical constructs.
Significant Relations:
  • Mother - Sarah Zuberi: An immigrant from Terran lands, Sarah is a sculptor of some repute in Tiria, and met Arty's father at a high-society gathering. She has a keen-but-casual interest in her husband's - and now son's - work, finding their creations fascinating and inspiring, though she has never quite grasped the mechanics of it all. She has encouraged Arty's interest in his father's line of work, though she would not support his investigations into his death - if she knew of them - fearing he might be inviting the same fate.
  • xhFdESW.jpg
    Bagel:
    A golem of Arty’s own creation, Bagel is a massive cat-like construct that serves Arty as a mount, companion, and weapon when necessary. Bagel is his greatest work yet, and he’s constantly making improvements to the golem.

    Standing at 8ft in height when not crouching, Bagel is an impressive and menacing construct, by contrast to his tiny, plucky creator.
    • Arcane Cannon: Bagel is fitted with a large cannon that can fire blasts of arcane force.
    • Flamethrower: Bagel has a flame-jet fitted within its mouth, allowing it to spew fire.
    • Shielding: Bagel can project a localised magical forcefield, protecting itself and its rider from harm.
NOT ACTUAL SIZE
 
Name: Kaelasar Ignatus
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Age: 22
Gender: Male
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Race: Half-Dragon (Magma)
Nationality: Dracon League
Orientation: Bisexual

Occupation: Prince / Royal Envoy

Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 143lbs (plus tail and wings)

History:
Kael is the son of one of the foremost dynasties in the Dracon League. His mother Tesherat is an ancient magma dragon, and his father Ardathatos a red half-dragon.

Tesherat is viewed as Queen and rightful ruler of the whole Dracon League by her people, and as overambitious and dangerous by many other clanholds. She sits on the Spectrum Council, and the Ignatus Clanhold holds the most wealth and influence of all the clanholds in the league

Ardathas is Tesherat’s favoured consort, and public face - while she remains largely within her volcanic lair and schemes behind the scenes, he delivers her decrees publicly and handles the majority of relations with other clans.

In the midst of all this, Kael - their son - is by and large a pain in the ass.

Spoiled from a young age by his parents, Kael has grown up arrogant, self-important and cocky. There is nobody in the world Kael loves more than himself, and he sees the world very much as his playground. Hot-headed to a fault, Kael regularly gets into fights with people who grow tired of his arrogance - fights he near universally wins. And when he’s not getting into fights with people, he’s getting into their pants - he knows how to turn on the charm and turn down the arrogance just enough to endear himself to someone to the point where he can get laid, and then usually after the thrill of the conquest is over, he’ll ditch them - bar a few more regular partners who couldn’t care less about his promiscuous habits.

With his recent involvement in several scandals involving both violence and sex with people he probably shouldn’t have been getting involved with in either sense, his parents have grown frustrated enough with him to want him anywhere but there.

Tesherat has never had much interest in diplomacy with Tiria - nor really in war with it, seeing the place as a ‘hive of softskin foibles’ for the most part - and so when she hit breaking point after Kael managed to break the nose of and then in the same day sleep with the son of a visiting diplomat from another clan, she came up with a plan.

She reached out to the rulers of Tiria and proposed sending her son there to “experience the culture of their kingdom” as a way to “ensure that the heirs of tomorrow would better understand our neighbours”.

In reality, she just wanted Kael to be causing problems in someone else’s back yard, and largely didn’t give a rat’s ass whether he caused a diplomatic scandal while he was there.

Kael has thus been packed off to Tiria largely against his will, and is very disgruntled with his lot in life. He finds himself under the watchful eye of the Dracon League’s official ambassador, who has grown very quickly exasperated with his behaviour, and surrounded by what he’s been raised to consider ‘lesser races’.

Still, on the plus side, there’s plenty of new tail to chase. Even if it does mean lowering his standards a little.

Abilities:
  • Fire Magic: Kaelasar is a prodigiously talented fire sorcerer.
  • Swordplay: Kael is trained in swordplay as well as magic.
  • Draconic Physiology: Kael can tolerate high temperatures comfortably, is able to withstand fire for longer without being burned, and possesses superior strength and durability compared to a human. He is capable of breathing flames or launching sprays of magma from his mouth. His wings allow him to fly.
  • Dragon Form: As a half-dragon, Kael can assume the form of a full dragon for brief periods, though doing so is draining.
Significant Relations:
  • Tesherat: An ancient and powerful magma dragon, and Kael's mother, Tesherat is one of the most powerful dragons of the Dracon League. She does not have an abundance of children, and is not especially motherly. Whilst she sees Kael as part of her legacy, her favour only extends as far as he proves himself worthy of it. The mighty Dragon Queen does not look kindly on weakness.
  • Ardathas Ignatus: A half-dragon himself, son to another member of Tesherat's clan, Ardathas is her current favoured consort and Kael's father. Ardathas is a cunning and ruthless man, who though he has a closer, fonder relationship with Kael than his mother does, is no more forgiving of his sloppiness. He sees the young man in dire need of a wake-up to reality, and honing into a suitable instrument for their clan's future.
 
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Kiya

Kiya of Tiria is a priestess of the deity Hodarr, who represents changes and opposites. While she does not know her birthday, the high priestesses told her that she is 18 years old, and who is she to question the high priestesses?

Kiya has warm brown skin and bright blue eyes, and she stands at a height of 5’7”, although her near-constant slouch often makes her appear shorter. Her black hair is styled in thick dreadlocks, forming a bun at the top of her head. She is rather lanky, and it’s quite obvious when looking at her that she’s a gawky teenager. The priestesses of Hodarr all dress the same: black sleeveless tops, white pants, and black boots, decorated liberally in gold jewelry and sleeveless cloaks of transparent blue fabric.

Personality-wise, Kiya is a little bit of a mess. She is rather anxious and high-strung, and tends to panic at the mention of the word ‘decision’. Her deity is one of contradiction and change, but she has difficulty dealing with new and strange situations, preferring the comfort of the familiar. She hates conflict, always trying her best to resolve it peacefully, and she has a psychological inability to pick sides. To keep herself stable, she has several coping mechanisms, ranging from grabbing palmfuls of sand and running it through her fingers to finding an empty room and screaming. Kiya prefers the comfort of an authority figure like the high priestesses to tell her what to do next, and in the absence of that, she can easily dissolve into her own anxiety. However, Kiya is also compassionate and kind, even if her fear can prevent her from showing it. She’s a quick study and soaks up information like a sponge, but she usually doesn’t have the experience to determine truth from deception.

The only home Kiya has ever known is the Temple of Hodarr, located in the sprawling city of Lorandor. The priestesses adopted her into their Order when she was too young to remember, and she has spent her formative years learning and training inside the Temple. It’s a gorgeous place, filled with swaying palms and pools of cool blue water, pillars of dry stone and echoing courtyards, and there are few opportunities to leave other than the occasional ceremony that requires the king’s presence. After all, while the Order of Hodarr is by no means the most powerful religious organization in the city, they most certainly hold some sway.

The Order of Hodarr was founded exactly hundred years ago, not a very long period of time relative to the workings of other religions, but Hodarr supposed it would have to do. There are about four hundred priestesses in the Order, and two of them are declared the high priestesses every blue moon. Accepting new members isn’t a huge deal to anyone, and they happily let in anyone willing to take the title of priestess. Hodarr is a non-committal deity, shifting their form and personality from day to day on a whim. The idea of the Order is to find organization within the chaos, to take what Hodarr says and refine it like sand through a sieve until it becomes holy. The Order believes in being able to shift with the flow of the world, but rotate around a cosmic center, like the way the dunes around the city ebb and flow, but the oasis remains certain and steady. The Order preaches acceptance of one’s flaws and abilities, of all the strange quirks and contradictions of mortal beings, as a way to get closer to their deity. The priestesses believe they will reach enlightenment when they can one day shift their forms as easily as Hodarr does, but until then, they are content with their elemental magic, like manipulating sand and water.

Kiya is doing her very best to listen to the priestesses, taking their word as law and trying as hard as she can to absorb their teachings. However, her constant fear stops her from finding the flow of the world, no matter how much she pleads with Hodarr, so she has yet to unlock the true potential of their Path. The other priestesses tolerate her presence, but only because she was raised there from childhood, so she feels as if she has no true friends inside the Order. Except…

Hodarr, the shifty and mysterious being they are, has decided to communicate directly with her, a privilege normally reserved for the high priestesses. Talking with them directly doesn’t help Kiya understand them any better, and she ends most conversations confused and slightly panicked, but it’s nice for her to have someone to really talk to.

Kiya has a variety of skills that she’s learned at the Temple, skills she isn’t exactly confident in, but at least she has them. She can speak Caledonian and Terran fluently, but prefers Caledonian, and she’s doing her best to learn Volarian at the moment. Kiya is trained in staff fighting, as each priestess carries their own unique staff that they builds and learns to fight with, and moving through her staff exercises is when Kiya feels the closest to finding the Path. She isn’t a prodigy by any means, but she can hold her own with her staff by her side. Desert survival skills and basic medical care are also taught at the Temple, and she’s reasonably certain she would live if someone dumped her in the middle of the desert. Reasonably. Kiya is currently in the process of learning the basics of elemental magic, and the most she’s ever been able to do is swirl a few dozen grains of sand around in her palm, but she is learning.

Other than Hodarr, Kiya doesn’t have any close friendships or relationships, mainly because she’s too nervous to ask anyone, even though relationships inside and outside of the Order are generally accepted. She catches herself admiring the men and women who walk past the Temple, but never does anything more.
 
View attachment 6848Laylah Bhandari
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Race: Avorian
Nationality: Volarian
Occupation: Heiress
Height: 6’6”
Weight: 170lbs

History:

Born with a silver spoon in her mouth, Laylah had everything her little heart could desire. She didn’t want for anything and while her parents were busy with their activities high in the Volarian diplomatic world, she was surrounded by maids and other house staff, the men and women practically raising the fiery upstart. Refusing to let her station define her, Laylah would often sneak out and go to the local parks and watch the ‘normal’ children playing together. It was at that moment that the tyke learned a valuable lesson. People were cruel. Unable to standby and watch as children picked on other children, the light-haired female found herself stepping in and protecting them. After about the twentieth time coming home with bruises and cuts, her parents finally took notice and forbade her from doing anything that would tarnish their reputation. Avorians like them, they explained, did not dirty their hands and she would no longer be allowed off the property.

After that conversation, Laylah had extreme difficulties sneaking out thanks to the increased security measures and she was once again trapped in a world she was born into but didn’t quite understand. This continued for her entire childhood, though occasionally she would manage to get out and look for people being bullied, but those times were rare. It was clear that Laylah was to follow in the footsteps of her mother as a diplomat and there was no getting away from that. However, the young female was far more interested in following the footsteps of her father, who was a Royal Guard, despite it being forbidden for women to do so.
 
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Basic Info
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Name
: Xhorwa (Pronounced Cor-va)
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Race: Human (Terran)
Affiliation: None (formerly of the Mu’gawi tribe)
Height: 182cm
Weight: 73kg
Orientation: Bisexual

History

Xhorwa was born into the Mu’gawi tribe, one of many tribes and magical creatures living on the vast plains of Mideastern Terra. The Mu’gawi people were an ancient tribe with a sprawling history and rich traditions, whose members had an affinity towards the very earth itself that they drew life from. Tribal legend tells of the Mu’gawi being descended from the ancient ent-people that sowed the first seeds of life on a newly-formed Valore. As such, the Mu’gawi saw it as their sacred duty to protect the plains of Terra, being the rightful inheritors of the land.

Unfortunately, the reality that Xhorwa grew up in was a far cry from the tales of yonder days of glory that the tribe Elders would tell the children, gathered around a bonfire under the waning Moon. The meteoric rise of faraway Varnathus was achieved at a blood price - the systematic displacement and slaughter of millions of magical people and creatures, with those who managed to survive fleeing the rapidly advancing Varnathian borders driving them closer into the forsaken Midlands. Throughout his childhood and adolescence, Xhorwa bore witness to his people relocating further Westward, their territory slowly but surely shrinking for fear of Varnathian incursions. Despite the threat to their way of life, the Mu’gawi people firmly allied themselves with the survivors fleeing from Varnathus, hiding them in their territory and often leading bands of refugees to the Northern centaur territories, as well as using ancient rituals to lay down wards to fend off the infernal war-beasts.

It was in such times of turmoil and unrest that Xhorwa spent his formative years. His father was one of the tribespeople tasked with making the long journeys ferrying refugees to the North. Xhorwa often accompanied his father on the long expeditions Northward, spending long nights whispering to the earth to feel the vast plains around him rumble back in response, and learning to use his connection with nature and shape it into a formidable defense against invading Varnathus. Beyond that, Xhorwa was a talented marksman, earning himself the affectionate nickname of “Eagle Eyes” amongst the clan members for his deadly precision, as though the wind itself guided the path of his shots. As soon as he came of age, Xhorwa started actively contributing to the tribe’s resistance force against Varnathus, often leaving Mu’gawi territory on long scouting missions to gather information about Varnathian plans for incursions.

Tragically, despite Xhorwa and his people’s best efforts, not even the strongest of wills nor the bravest of men could hold off against the raw overwhelming firepower that the Varnathians possessed. Varnathus was not a nation given to mercy, nor did it have any qualms against unleashing hell upon anyone who stood in its path. While the Mu’gawi tribe’s resistance had been overlooked in the past, it eventually became a persistent enough transgression that it drew the ire of the Warlords. An order was decreed to use whatever forces necessary to eradicate the Mu’gawi traitors. Resources and manpower were of no concern, for they were merely a drop in the ocean of Varnathus’ arsenal at their disposal.

Within weeks, Varnathian soldiers had overrun Mu’gawi territory, their giant war-beasts billowing hell-machines of brimstone and death, desecrating whatever sacred land it tread upon, the rot of war and bloodshed slowly seeping into the earth. The tribespeople were rounded up from their homes and imprisoned, with those who refused to surrender to Varnathian rule mutilated and left for dead. Xhorwa was identified as a scout, having engaged in skirmishes with Varnathian foot-soldiers during his previous missions, and as punishment he was blinded, his fingers broken, and left for dead. Varnathus stripped away his sight and his ability to aim, a cruel mockery to drive in the futility of his rebellion. Mu’gawi, his identity, his home, had ceased to hold meaning, their existence snuffed out like a flame in the dead of night.

Miraculously (or unfortunately), Xhorwa managed to survive the ordeal, fleeing Westward closer to the Midlands to avoid persecution. While his fingers eventually healed, his sight would never return, and neither would the gaping chasm of guilt and despair in his heart. For a decade now Xhorwa has been a wanderer of the Midlands, relying on his connection to the earth to stay out of the arcane storms and rifts that plague the land. A man without identity, stripped of his past and his future, condemned to drift restlessly - but perhaps, even the most wretched of men can find something to live for.

Equipment & Abilities
  • Earthspeak - Xhorwa’s affinity towards the earth enables him to communicate with the spirits residing in all parts of nature, from the great plains itself to the smallest flower. This allows him to gather information about incoming foes or arcane storms, allowing him to move without getting caught in any trouble.
  • Gun - not a traditional one, per se, but a relic from the Mu’gawi forges. Bullets inserted into it are magic-infused and can deliver other effects besides piercing damage through spellcasting.
  • (Joke) Ultra Instinct - how else is this boy supposed to aim? (actually part of his affinity to nature - he detects the movement of targets through minute vibrations, kind of like a bat.)
  • Ritual Spellcasting - He’s not very good at it, being more trained as a marksman and pathfinder, but he’s able to perform ritual spells, primarily for utility or defense. It’s time-consuming and draining for him to maintain such spells, though.
  • Pathfinder - Years spent on the trail and an intrinsic understanding of earthly terrain has honed Xhorwa into an expert navigator with the ability to maneuver even the toughest of terrain.
 
Name: Tahir Bhandari
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Age: 26
Race/Species: Avorian
Place of Birth: Volary
Current Residence: Volary, Shintenchi
Nationality: Volarian
Occupation(s): Volarian Royal Guard

Though it is unusual for avorians to travel abroad from Volary, let alone Shintenchi, Tahir fell to wanderlust at a young age. For seven years he wandered Aslund in search of purpose until his travels eventually led him full circle. Upon returning to Shintenchi Tahir spent another three years residing in the Losenji town of Jikou, choosing to forsake the company of his own people in favor of their Losenyu neighbors.

Tahir's travels have left him a changed man, and the once wild youth has become a picture of introspective somberness. Few recognized him as the same boy from before his departure save by name.

Tahir has has only recently returned to Volary and claimed a place among the Volarian Royal Guard for reasons unknown. He doesn't much talk about why he left, where he went for ten years, nor why he returned.

The one indisputable fact among the Royal Guard is that Tahir is a powerful psionic. He has offered no explanation into how he came into possession of such abilities, but they are not avorian in nature. He is a formidable adversary and a skilled combatant with or without his psionics.

As is typical of avorians, Tahir is characteristically lithe and lightly built with slightly pointed ears, light hair, and a pair of powerful and fully functional feathered wings.
 
Name: Ambar Bhandari
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Age: 19
Race/Species: Avorian
Place of Birth: Volary
Current Residence: Volary
Nationality: Volarian
Occupation(s): Volarian Royal Guard

Ambar is a relatively young trainee to the Volarian Royal Guard. Full of youthful zeal and the same wanderlust that once drew his brother, Tahir, from Shintenchi, Ambar is often characterized by over-eagerness and impatience. Much to Ambar's chagrin he has been unable to draw any answers or stories out of Tahir into his brother's travels though the lands of Terra across the sea.

It is his excitement to join the ranks of the Royal Guard, orchestrated and arranged by Tahir, that keep Ambar grounded to Volary.

When he's not otherwise applying himself to his personal pursuits he can oft be found enabling his sister's own wanderlust.

As is typical of avorians, Ambar is characteristically lithe and lightly built with slightly pointed ears, light hair, and a pair of powerful and fully functional feathered wings.
 
Name: Kindred Yule

View attachment 6921

Age: 21
Gender: Male
Alignment: Lawful Good
Race: Terran
Nationality: Mountainfolk, unaligned to a national party.
Orientation: Straight

Occupation: Wanderer

Height: 6'3"
Weight: 194lbs

History:
Born to a poor family in the north-lands in a village known only for fur-trading and it's proximity to the largest mountain, one could question the divine responsible for his reincarnation. That is of course, if things didn't plan out the way they did; this village, while rather unremarkable was also plagued by pillaging. It's remote nature making it a prime target for those seeking slaves, easy coin, and fresh meat.

One such raid on the village was meant to be the last, as surely the small town couldn't take much more. Kindred's mother fled from the assault up the mountain, baby swaddled in furs and kept close as she did her best to outrun the danger that loomed behind her. Her experience hunting helped her navigate, but without the right tools she was dangerously unprepared to brave the mountains, but an aged fairy tail that spoke of a dragon resting in the tallest mountain kept her going with the faintest glimmer of hope. No one in their village had actually found, or sought out the dragon prior; but the record remained from generations past, told across campfires of similar villages of a dragon renowned for it's wisdom, revered for it's age, but resting for years on end. Finding it could have been their salvation, but unfortunately the time it took to do so and the stress and fatigue it put on his mother was too much for her to bear; but she had done it, she managed to discover the dragon's lair.

She survived for a few more days, sick and cold from braving the weather but she had managed to keep her child warm and moving. In that time she had made a request of the recently awoken dragon, to raise and ensure her son survived. A request that otherwise may have fallen on deaf ears, if the dragon hadn't the wisdom it was renowned for. Without an answer as to why, the dragon agreed to her request, but knowing no magic and having no means of helping her survive the dragon could only watch as she perished away. The guardians of the mountain ranges, commonly known as Yeti by the village-folk were called to assist him. They buried the mother, and helped bring food for the child, but it was the dragon's responsibility to teach the youth and develop him with the morals and character he wanted to see more of in the world.

The boy, later named Kindred learned everything he knew from the dragon. His knowledge came from stories and tales that transcended ages, each a lesson on character that spoke of chivalry, humility, empathy, and more. It was as if the dragon knew what the boy could potentially become, but unbeknownst to the boy, the dragon also knew of who he once was and some of the stories shared were of tales that they had lived through previously.

As far as childhoods went, this wasn't a terrible one. His "father" was kind and collected, wise and respectful, and always had perspective to provide for the youth. Kindred's siblings, while incredibly furry and with remarkable strength were lively and enjoyed his company - even if they lacked the ability to properly communicate. Rough-housing with the yeti's was the most danger Kindred ever saw, as the dragon ensured he lived a sheltered lifestyle in the mountains but the dragon knew it couldn't keep the boy there forever. Already, he was noticing the limit of what he could provide for the youth. He showed an aptitude for magic, the snow and the ice that made up the mountain soon became a plaything for the boy but this was an area of expertise the dragon lacked, and the boy would need for the future.

When Kindred reached adulthood, the dragon started to prepare him to leave. His stories grew darker, warning of peril and deceit that may be faced in the outside world. His lessons included swordsmanship with the few treasures the dragon retained from his earlier years, and while he could teach technique and offer criticism Kindred lacked experience, a yeti with a club was of little substitute for a sparring partner but it made due. Kindred had joined the yeti's on hunts, but couldn't keep up to their physical nature but made up for it with ingenuity and rudimentary magic as he manipulated snow and ice to his bidding; setting traps, creating walls or tools, but it lacked elegance and precision.

The dragon's solution was to send the boy off in search of a teacher, a dragon that Kindred only knew by the name of Rhea, whose history was told by many stories. He was tasked to seek her out, but the dragon ensured that the boy left prepared.

Abilities:
  • A Knight's Lesson: Trained like an ancient knight, when swordsmanship was the leading form of combat. Kindred's movements mimic and replicate that of the olden days, but a true master will see many flaws in it's execution; the lesson taught by a dragon who was there for it's teachings, but never a part of the lesson.
  • Northern Mountain Magic: The northern mountains is all Kindred knows, it's environment shaping his magical tendencies. Kindred can manipulate water, snow, ice and wind, shaping them into new forms and guide it's direction but has little to no control or elegance in the act. Despite this, he has learned that ice infused with his magic can be quite sturdy; and feels that with the right teachings and practice he can make something out of it.
  • Marked: Kindred bears a rune on his skin, sensitive to magic of all kinds. Kindred knows the marks are traditionally faint, but when he practiced magic they would glow with life, the same glow they shared when he drew closer to his father. He knows little as to what it means, but his father has asked him not to worry about it and allow time to answer his questions.

Equipment:
  • Dragon Knight: Centuries ago, Yule was paired with a hero. They served together as one, their ideals and goals aligned as they drove back corruption in the world. The hero however, had long since passed away, leaving Yule to wander the world without his partner. He had kept his armor and weapon, both masterfully crafted as it remained in perfect condition over the ages and served as a reminder of the man he once revered - he had intended to keep it till he finally passed away but had decided to gift it to Kindred instead. With very few alterations, the armor fit the youth well, the blade having been the one he had used for practice a welcome friend to join him on his journey.

Significant Relations:
  • Yule: An ancient white dragon who rules over the north-lands mountain ranges, renowned for his wisdom he has been known to understand prophecy through his dreams. For the last 20 years he has acted as Kindred's father, impacting character lessons and ensuring that the boy would be able to help shape the world for the better. In his past, he served as friend and partner to an ancient hero whose reincarnations can be traced back to Kindred. Yule, seeing this line of fate in one of his dreams led him to his decision for taking care of the boy.
  • The Yeti: The hairiest siblings Kindred could ask for. Raised alongside the guardians of the mountain, he sees them as family and reveres life in all forms. With the right understanding, Kindred has been brought up to understand the inherent good that can be found in the world.
 
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Name:
Tristian
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral Good
Race: Human (Lantern-Blessed)
Nationality: Northlands (pending nation name)
Orientation: Homosexual

Occupation: Librarian

Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 122lbs

History: In the Northlands there are myths and legends surrounding the concept of 'Lantern Spirits', benevolent ethereal beings that shepherd lost souls on to the afterlife, guide new souls into newborn children, guard against dark spirits and wraiths, and protect the spirits of those near death from hostile influences that would take advantage of their weakened spirits. They watch over the threshold between life and death, eternally vigilant against those who would harm their charges - the souls that they protect.

When Tristian was born - prematurely - he was very weak. His mother lost her life in childbirth and the midwives did not think he would last the night. He hovered on the border between life and death, and in doing so, drew attention from the beyond. A malevolent spectre, drawn by the weak soul, sought to infect and claim the boy as its own; to spirit his soul away and leave the baby lifeless. But fortunately for him, a Lantern Spirit had also been drawn, both to guide his mother's soul on and to watch over his birth.

Spurred by its desire to protect the fragile soul, and by the wordless pleas of his mother's passing spirit, the Lantern Spirit warred with the dark spectre over the boy, in a conflict that brought both it and the spectre to near destruction. Though the Lantern triumphed, it was weakened. In its final moments, it took one final act to guide the lingering soul into the newborn - merging with it. The Lantern Spirit's waning strength was enough to breathe life into Tristian, and sustain him through the night. The next morning, the midwives found a far healthier baby - though his hair was bleached white, and one eye now twinkled with a golden glow.

With his father having passed before he was born, Tristian was taken into a local orphanage, where he was raised alongside many other children without homes to call their own. His oddities - bleached white hair and a golden eye - had led to the local spiritual leaders identifying him as "Lantern-Blessed"; touched by the lantern spirits and imbued with their light. This difference was enough to earn him a blend of curiosity and wariness from the other children, and he often received 'special' treatment from the adults that, though well-meaning and reverent, often left him feeling isolated and "different".

He found his company more often in books than in other children, eventually coming to spend most of his time at a local library. There he found guidance from an elderly librarian, who encouraged his interest in the scholarly, and kept him from suffering too much from his loneliness.

From this librarian, Tristian also learned some basic magic, and discovered that he had something of a natural talent for it. The Lantern Spirit entwined with his soul had left him more attuned to the spiritual energies of the world, and gifted with some innate magic as a result. He's learned some spellcraft in his teens, developing his skills fairly quickly for someone lacking much in the way of formal tutelage.

As well as his magic, Tristian has some unique abilities derived from his bond with the Lantern Spirit. One of the gifts that has impacted his life the most is one of guidance and purpose. He retains the guiding instincts of the Lantern, and the desire to guide souls to where they ought go. This manifests as an ability to create a shimmering guiding compass to lead either him or another person towards wherever the Lantern's sense of destiny senses they should go next to fulfill their purpose in the Light.

This guidance has led him regularly to chance upon people in need or danger, who he's been able to help - interrupting robberies, helping people stranded in the snow, guiding missing children home, and more. Tristian enjoys the sense of purpose the guiding light gives him, and tends to always heed its call wherever it leads him.

Abilities:
  • Guiding Light: The Lantern Spirit bonded with Tristian manifests as a shimmering ethereal light when it senses he is needed somewhere nearby, and draws him towards people in need. He can also choose to manifest this intentionally for either himself or for another person, to point them towards where their fate leads them in the longer-term.
  • Light Sorcery: Tristian can create light and wield it in various forms such as searing rays or blinding flashes, that miraculously leave his allies unaffected.
  • Restorative Magic: Tristian can perform some healing and other restorative magics.
  • Soulsight: Tristian can sense souls and spirits through the bond with his Lantern Spirit, particularly those that are lost and in need of guidance.
  • Wizardry: Tristian knows some arcane magic, though only relatively minor spells.
Significant Relations:
  • Alvilda Nielsen - Mentor: the kind, elderly librarian at the library where Tristian lives and works, something of a grandmother/mother figure to him.
 
Name: Aeryn Vadrillion
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Age: 24
Gender: Male
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Race: Lustran
Nationality: Auric
Orientation: Bisexual

Occupation: Freedom Fighter

Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 143lbs

History: Aeryn's story began not on Valore, but in another realm known as Lustre. A world of two mirrored sides - Silver and Gold - at the time of Aeryn's birth Lustre was tilted out of balance. Where the twin realms of Argis and Auris (the Silver and Gold realms) were intended to be in balance, an ambitious ruler of Auris had developed the ability to manipulate the energy of the realms - Candescence - to such a degree that he could alter their very nature, making himself as unto a god. He used this power to twist the realms out of balance, turning Auris into a paradise at the cost of consigning Argis to desolation.

For much of Aeryn's early life, he lived in blissful ignorance of this fact. The paradisical nature of the Auris Tiernan had created had the effect of brainwashing its people with contentment and happiness. Only occasionally did one of its residents come to realise something was amiss, that their every negative thought was being brushed subtly aside, and for the most part those individuals were swiftly banished from Auris to the Silver Realm, where the new horrors of what Tiernan had turned it into usually claimed their lives, or else their minds.

It was after some time spent serving as an eager, earnest member of Tiernan's military that Aeryn experienced this awakening, after witnessing Tiernan's cruelty firsthand one too many times. He was discovered, and banished.

The Argis that Aeryn arrived in was a far sight from the tranquil, moonlit realm it was meant to be. It had become a desolate wasteland plagued by a pervasive madness and despair, the counterpart to the unnatural bliss of Auris. Those who spent too long there were sapped of their will to struggle, and driven to feral madness with time.

Such was the fate that awaited him, were it not for an unlikely and entire unplanned intervention.

A summoning spell gone awry, cast by one Elante Vadrillion, plucked the young Lustran from his banishment and conjured him into the young mage's chambers. After a period of confusion and alarm on both sides, the two boys developed an unlikely friendship, after Elante discovered his summoned 'demon' turned out to be a mostly regular person. For his part, Aeryn was beyond grateful for being saved from a devolution into madness in Argis.

Elante's father didn't approve of his son befriending a 'conjured creature', but with the aid of Elante's spellcasting tutor, he was eventually talked into permitting Aeryn to remain. They grew together for the better part of a year before conflicts came to a head and they both left in order for Elante to attend the Luminous Spire, a prestigious magical institute on the outskirts of Terra, and in this time their friendship developed into romance.

It was there that the pair of them were both drawn into an event known as the Orsa Wars, that would later be responsible for the destruction of Terra. During that long saga of fighting, Aeryn was at one point magically banished and sent back to Lustre.

Now, however, he was not content to accept his fate. There was a war to fight, and a by-then fiance who needed him. Motivated by a driving passion normally absent in the exiles of Argis, he roused the other exiles and surviving Argeans, gathering them over a long campaign and forming an army to storm the bridge between the Silver and Golden realms. Once they had returned to Auris, with the aid of rebels of the Golden Realm, they were - after a long struggle - able to defeat Tiernan, and finally restore balance to Lustre.

Despite his leadership role in this rebellion, Aeryn wanted nothing to do with the vacuum of power left behind by Tiernan. Instead, he rallied those of his army and friends who were willing and used the Great Bridge's realm-travelling properties to return once more to Valore and rejoin his allies in the final weeks of the Orsa conflict, as well as reunite with Elante.

Though the destruction of Terra was a demoralising and bittersweet end to the Orsa Wars, and one that weighs heavily on Aeryn to this day, he knows that the alternative would have meant an end to all of Valore. Following the end of the war, he returned briefly to Lustre to help settle the situation there, including founding the twin orders: the Aureate Vigil and the Argent Sentinels, responsible for keeping peace between Auris and Argis and protecting the realms from threats both internal and external, now that a permanent bridge had been formed to Valore.

Since doing so, he has left his home realm behind once more to stay at Elante's side. The two of them were married not long after the war's end - which he considers his crowning achievement.

The rise of Varnathus near the site of the Luminous Spire has brought new conflict and trouble into Aeryn and Elante's lives. As a stronghold of powerful mages on their doorstep, the Luminous Spire was naturally a target for the magic-hating nation. To make matters worse, its powerful and wilful archmage - Scarlet Dae - was missing. In the absence of her decisive leadership, the Spire's senior magi opted to go on the defensive, employing powerful magical barriers to seal the academy away behind its walls, keeping Varnathus and weathering the storm.

Aeryn, Elante, and a number of the other mages who had fought in the Orsa conflicts, or else had more backbone, took issue with this decision. At first, they attempted to sway the council's minds - but they were largely unified in their fear and desire to stay hidden. After they disobeyed the ruling to strike out against Varnathan forces several times, the council opted to demand that they leave the Spire, to avoid drawing the nation's ire any further.

Since then, Aeryn, Elante, and a small group of other mages from the Spire have joined with Tersyr and the other peoples fighting Varnathus to lend their support. Though they are a small group, both Aeryn and Elante are heroes of an uncommon calibre, and their strength is enough to give much greater forces cause for concern.

Aeryn is a well meaning, if at times sarcastic and snarky, person. He has a good sense of humour, and is always willing to crack a joke, no matter how dire or inappropriate the situation. He has much more control over his emotions since the restoration of Lustre's balance, and has a determined responsible side that those who knew him before he led the rebellion in Lustre still find surprising. A passionate, if reluctant leader, Aeryn's refusal to acknowledge the potential for failure rallied an entire realm behind him once, and he still holds that fiery strength to this day.

Abilities:
  • Candescence: The energy that permeates the realm of Lustre is known as Candescence. A powerful, unique magical energy source, Candescence's power is driven by the emotions and pure willpower of the wielder rather than incantations and complex patterns. The level of attunement a Lustran has with the energy also means that the mere act of embracing the energy and channelling it through their body serves to enhance their physical capabilities, senses and mind to a varying extent depending on the individual’s capabilities.

    All Lustrans are born with a connection to Candescence, but this connection varies in strength. Beyond natural talent, a Lustran must train extensively to achieve a greater mastery of Candescence in a manner comparable to a monk harnessing their body’s ki energy. Great discipline and focus are necessary to be able to command powerful Candescence at will, for it is otherwise strictly tied to an individual’s passion and emotions. A Lustran in a rage or overflowing with joy is usually capable of wielding much more powerful Candescence than a calm Lustran, but those who have trained sufficiently to become masters are capable of channelling their passion through controlled focus, without requiring them to unleash their emotions.

    The differences between Silver and Gold Candescence are subtle, but notable. Where Silver Candescence excels more at enhancing the physical capabilities of its wielder and forming direct attacks, Gold Candescence serves to better enhance the mind of its wielder, and can produce mind-affecting powers and illusions with greater ease.

    Most Lustrans can wield only Silver or Gold Candescence, and not both. Aeryn, however, is one of those capable of wielding both thanks to his extended stays in both realms, during which times he forged strong connections with them. He is capable of embracing them both simultaneously, achieving heights of strength and magical power few other Lustrans can boast.
Equipment:
  • Halcyon: A blade once possessed by Tiernan, forged with the Candescent power of both Auris and Argis, this weapon - also known as The Lambent Edge - serves as a powerful focus for Candescence, allowing Aeryn to easily tap into it even outside of Lustre, and enhancing his use of it. Supernaturally light, sharp and swift, Twilight runs with pure Candescence when wielded by a Lustran, allowing it to cut more surely than most metal-edged blades in a manner not dissimilar to an energy blade.
  • Heart's Promise: A magical amulet gifted to Aeryn by Elante as a wedding gift, this amulet is one of a pair (the other worn by Elante) forged of equal parts gold and silver, and holds a single ruby gem at its centre. It is enchanted with a powerful magical shield that protects Aeryn from harm and allows him to telepathically contact Elante's mirrored version of it no matter where they are, even across planar boundaries.
  • Castell's Armguards of Elemental Fury: Named for an ancient hero of the Elysian Vanguard, one of the heroes who first sealed the ancient entity known as the Sealed One away thousands of years past - the selfsame entity that caused the Orsa wars - these Armguards were once one of the twelve keys to his prison. Forged with a portion of the ancient hero's power over the elements, they allow the wearer to create and manipulate elemental energy as if they were a master of elemental magic, drawing largely on the energy of the armguards themselves rather than that of their wielder. Since being used to unseal the prison they were made to lock, they have lost some of their legendary potency, but they remain powerful magical items all the same.
Significant Relations:
  • Elante Vadrillion - Husband: Elante is Aeryn's best friend, closest companion, most trusted ally, and the love of his life. Since their first meeting when they were both sixteen, they've been through hell and back together, had their fair share of arguments and differences of view, but despite everything they've remained as in love as their young, infatuated teenage selves ever were.
  • Scarlet Dae - Friend: The headmaster and archmage of the Luminous Spire, Scarlet and Aeryn have always gotten along well - sharing a fiery disposition and a stubborn streak. Aeryn has a great deal of respect for her, and is confident that despite her absence, she's anything but dead - after all, there's no way she'd let anything as boring as some self-important military-heads kill her!
  • The Elysian Vanguard - Allies: Aeryn has many friends and allies amongst the Elysian Vanguard (or, those few individuals who comprised it during the Orsa Wars). Though the group have gone their separate ways, Aeryn still feels a sense of loyalty and camaraderie with those he fought alongside, and would readily go to the aid of any of them given cause.
 
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