This thread is for character descriptions for Ardolia, our world RP section.


Post your character description here, then add the name as a link in your signature, so we'll know who plays who.

Code for link:



To get the link to your post, just click the post number on your post, and the link will pop up in a separate window.

Read the forum descriptions and Ardolia OOC threads carefully before creating your character, it's important that you are familiar with the world and the setting. Otherwise you might have to do it all over again.

There are limits on what kind of characters you are allowed to create.

¤ They must fit within the world setting. No this-world countries, religions, cultures or places. Ardolia is a fantasy world, with no relation to here and now. Characters must have their origin from within Ardolia. The time setting is somewhere in the middle ages.

¤ No older than 400 years, preferrably younger. Cathair Genann was founded about 400 years ago, before that the land was wilderness. Human characters will not have been around before the first settlement arrived.

¤ No powerlevelling. If your character has supernatural powers, they need to be balanced out with equal flaws. You're not invincible, you're not indestructible. Keep things at a normal level.



If for any reason you wish your character to be an exception to any of these rules, PM me with the reason why, and the basic background, and I'll look at it. :)

My character description:

Tyleet - Wood Elf

Born as the winter turned into spring, Tyleet's chestnut hair has always carried traces of the shifting seasons. White strands appear as winter approaches, only to be replaced by a warm golden highlight as spring comes, and the sun returns to wake the world to life anew. The gold will be clearer towards high summer, leaving her hair a shining halo at midsummer, turning into a dark red shine towards autuumn, like the leaves falling from the trees. No living creature before or since, has been able to tell the turn of the seasons with such accuracy.

That is however the only type of magic she posesses. As a daughter of a woodshaper, it was expected that she'd show strong signs of the same trait, but alas. Tyleet was, and is, just Tyleet, with the shimmering hair. A child of new beginning, shifting and unpredictable. She goes her own way, straying on half-forgotten and often forbidden paths.

Like all elves, time makes little difference to Tyleet. She is no longer a cub, having passed through most of her adolescence, a long process for her kind. But she is not yet a full-grown adult. A child in some aspects, an adult in others. She has watched the seasons come and pass more times than she cares to remember. The Now of Elf thought is strong within her, living in the moment, paying little heed to past or future. Memories are remembered when they're needed, otherwise they're stored away, her conciousness focused on the moment.

The elven tongue is soft, trilling, in some ways comparable to birdsong. For most conversation though, they will send, the elven telepathy, a wordless, emotional language. Sending can be understood by any race, as it has no words, only feelings and images. But at the same time, it is impossible to lie through sending. When opening your mind, you cannot hide your true intentions.

-Name: Bridget -Race: Elf, of the field

Name meaning:The name Brigid [Bridget] from brigh meaning "power, vigour, virtue" epitomizes the Irish genius for layering old and new. The main female deity of the Celts, Brigid made the land fruitful and animals multiply, she blessed poets and blacksmiths. The stories of Brigid's compassion and miracles are told now as they have been for more than 1500 years in every part of Ireland. Her feast day, February 1st, is the first day of Spring in the Celtic calender.

Bridget was Born in october, concieved in beginning of February. Her birth into fall has made her grow into one of darkness, seeing all the living things around her die and hide as winter came and turned the world a deadly white. She is soft spoken, poetic, and passionate about everything. She has great fears, and a stronger love than anything. She is always hard at work, striving, trying not to notice the things coming and going around her, as she slowly ages on. She was born into two elven parents, both of them farmers. They never had more than enough to get by, and never needed it. Her parents a gone now, but she doesnt remember how. Her beauty is odd. Her radiance is almost overpowering, making people intimidated, untrusting. She is not like other elves, she does not care for neither past, present nor future, but deep inside she holds on to things that long ago happened.

OK, here's what I had planned. Yes I know, might be a little over the top. Tell me if I can't have it by the way. But I didn't want to be a vampire/human/elf. And yes I know it sounds like a cross between the Grim Reaper and the Witchking from LOTR.

Name: Frucissiere

A spirit like creature that drifts in and out of existance. It is said to be head of a religious cult hidden deep inside the woods. It roams Ardolia looking for more followers. It is rumoured to hold many secrets about the history of Ardolia and the whereabouts of the Sceptre.

It is mainly featureless, swathed in a a dark robe that swirls around its body. It's eyes glow yellow, and as it moves it seems like clouds of yellow mist escape from it.

It doesn't seem to favour weapons, but it does conceal a scythe, but it seems to be more for show than to actually be used as a weapon.

It has driven many a mortal insane, planting the most grotesque imagery in the most hardened of mortal brain. Insanity is commonplace. It seems to feed off this, reducing the victims to mere shells.


[Haven't thought of anything else]

Is it alright/allowed?

Throne777

I'd just like to say, that the only character I have thus far, has no name, and looks remarkably like a hawk.

Other than that? It came from an egg in a nest, learnt to fly about 3 months... anything else? lol

Name: None (call her what you want. Draklings are not given names by their parents.)

Race: Drakling- a small, dragonlike creature that lives in forests. Like a chameleon, draklings can turn color to blend with their surroundings. They are ambush creatures, but tend to stay out of the way of two legger squishies. However, such creatures are also very curious, and are always ready to explore new areas. The females are 7 feet long, on average, the males 6 feet.

Draklings' legs are short, not terribly so, but desgined for slinking along the ground or silently climbing trees. The tail is long and powerful, used as an extra limb when nessecary. Draklings have long, slim snouts, designed to catch rabbits in their dens or fish in the river. Their eyes are large and adjust easily to light and darkness. Draklings have oposible thumbs, but only use them in climbing or examining new things. They have a strong affection to shiny objects and magical items. Low spikes, like a crocodiles, but slimmer, travel along their backs. The scales are not smooth, but jagged and rough, yet the drakling is flexible and swift over short distances or rapid turns. Remember, designed to hunt in forests and caves. The bottom pads of the feet have a sticky substance that can adhere to walls and bark, but the thick claws are what really helps. They have long, snakelike necks, same length as the tail, that end in aeriodynamically designed skulls. Two smooth horns curl back from the head, between the winglike ears.

Draklings have short wings, perfect for quick glides or slowing an unexpected fall. Their best senses (though all are good) are their noses and ears.

When color changed to match an environment, the teeth, eyes, scales, small wings- everything changes to that color. The only indication is a slight difference in patterns, and even that fades over time and experience.

Draklings are notorious for theiving, and often will jump down and snatch precious objects from squishies before anyone realizes what just happened. When they want to, they can be silent and hidden, though their nature lends itself well to socialization.

The drakling young stay at the safety of the den their mother has dug until their scales have hardened (about 1 month), then tentatively set out. At first they are not far from their birthing place, but over time forge out to find homes of their own.

Draklings can sometimes up and leave a place without warning, and, while they can bond for life, will sometimes leave their partners to bond with another of their species.

Draklings are hunted as exotic pets, or spell components, or wall ornamentation, and thus are rare. They lay a clutch (8 fist sized eggs (no small feet for such a creature)) about once every 2-3 years, depending on conditions. They sleep most of the winter off, but can live off of small game if they must during the cold months.

The only natural predator are two legging squishes, and many have an inherent fear of the bipeds. Occasionally, though, there are exceptions.

To escape enemies, draklings expell from their throat sacks (just between the lower jaw bones and the bottom neck scales) a noxious gas that can, with small children, kill or deabilitate, with adults, knock out, with anything larger, really, really stink. It comes in the form of a black cloud that further hides its getaways.

They are at home on the ground, in the trees, or even in the water, though they seem to prefer dens or natural caves. They are playful, and rambunctious, warm-blooded dragonkin. Though they themselves would consider the drakling the highest order of dragon.

Gender: Female

Dispostition: Curious, as always, and ready to learn anything. Likes to pick on large predators with pinecones and rocks. She is only 2 years old, and just at her mating age. She wants to find a way also to further her pranks by finding something to change shape. 'twould be great fun!

Body type: Slim

Current status: wandering in search of a new den (her old one ruined) near the elven holt.

Name: Luciel Keltaeto
Race: Dark Elf *banished

Background: The long days of existing in the dark hallows where the Dark Elves lived had taken their toll. Luciel's spirit dwindled, and he committed the gravest of crimes - of this, he will not speak nor ever will. He is a bodyguard for whoever pays the highest. In such dark times, it is difficult to find adequate protection of the devil worshippers and vampires in the mountains. At first, he is unemployed. He has a deep scar from the outer corner of his eye and curves a bit, then slides straight down against his ash-colored skin like a trailing path of a tear. He will speak of this scar if one asks nicely.

His favored weapons are the sword - the weapon is rudimentary but limited. Another weapon is the bow - for all elves harbor the perfect sight able to fall a deer from several yards away easily. His poison-tipped arrows are more fit for an assassin, but they keep problems from re-arising unwantedly.

His skin is not dark, but pale like ash, and all but smooth as all elf skin is want to be. Luciel's hair seems woven from the night sky, flecked with stars if it's wet with dew. He wears it in a short, loose pony tail or a braid to keep it out of his precious, velvet violet eyes. Two fang-like triangles are painted on his cheeks in red at all times, and other such body decorations on his skin where he is not visible.

---

As an afterthought..I *really* want to make another character but I should really only have one... I made it up myself for a story I haven't even written yet.. And I wanna draw a picture of my elf dude.

Name: Balor


General Description.

Human
6'3"
Strong build, well toned and muscular
clean shaven
appears to each person as the epitomy of handsome.
his voice is melodious and beautiful, filled with power.
tattoos on back of hands, forhead, back of neck, shoulder blades, tops of feet
The tattoo on his forhead shows people who are weak of will a mirror of their deepest desires, showing them what they wish and dream for, and how it can be acheived through him.
The tatoos on his hands and feet shimmer and glow with imbued power


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Psychology

believes that it is his purpose in life to rule over a supreme race of beings
has controll of daemonic powers through a daemon imbued inside him
believes the daemonic are the oppressed, and is a freedom fighter trying to gain them a decent life
despises mercenaries
has a deep rooted sense of honor and justice
takes no pleasure in killing, but does what must be done

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History

Born in the eaves of turien woods whilst his parents were travelling to cathair gennan
grew up in cathair gennan in a house under the shadow of the walls of the castle
at age of 12 the tattoos on his body formed themselves litterally overnight, and he discovered he could manipulate mundane things such as fog, wind and rain.
at age 15 he began to speak to another being that claimed to be a daemon inside him, fearing this he went to the church to seek help, upon hearing his tale, and seeing the marks, they threw him out and rode him out of town, banishing him for all time.
from there he made his way through the woods up to the mountain, cloaking himself in mist
on the mount, he learnt that there were many like him, of the daemonic in nature, outcast and hunted
in the darkness of the city fohen winds his voice taught him how to survive as the living in the undead world.
he learnt to manipulate light itself, to cloak himself in shadow, to fight off the beasts of the netherworld that hunted his flesh.
Learning finally how to controll his own appearance, through strenght of will and daemonic power he built himself into the perfect man
with these skills, he decended from the summit of the mount, fighting for his right to live in the wide world, to set himself up as ruler of all, seeking to bring about his idea of utopia.

He has entered into the clergy that once expelled him, returning as a powerful inquisitor. Clothed in royal red cloth, and hardened leather armour, his network reaches throughout the town. He is the poison in the heart of the city, Stiving to bring about his rule upon the small town, and eventually the world.

----------------------------

(third edition, I can't efit my 2nd one, so if someone would like to delete it)

Kuhsume D'nir-da – Kurumka

Born of a mortal woman and a Luga’inzi, Kuhsume D’nir-da is full-blood Kurumka – a gatekeeper to the Nether. He has kept his position and lot faithfully through four lifetimes and is a sworn vasal to the Crown of Ardolia. His exploits are sung of by bards and his valor is legendary.

Kuhsume was among the first to venture to Ardolia and helped lay the very foundation of Cathair Gennan. Few of the original settlers are still around - most having died decades ago or moved away - although some still linger within the unholy halls of Foehn Winds, children of the Undead that now pray on their former kin. The call of battle, an irresistible urge all Kurumka must answer to, first drew Kuhsume into the Aine Mountains when the Undead originally sought to conquer Ardolia. Upon his return, however, he was a changed being, crazed and troubled, the war having crippled his mind as much as his body.

Tall and imposing, he stands a brutish 6’4 with short cut raven hair and striking azure eyes; he is the epitome of a commander, in his time both strong and fearless; yet time has not been kind to him. Scars mar his body, remnants of many wars fought and won, as his presence would suggest. However, constant battle has stiffened his joints and he appears sluggish at first glance. He also has a slight limp in his left leg and a constant twich in both arms. Yet although his body is practically impermeable, his mind is fragile, and Kuhsume suffers of severe Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome - his countless brushes with Death over nearly five millennia and through literally four lifetimes having shattered his mind, leaving him empty and without due cause.

He currently resides in the small rural town of Dun’Vehrny as a goat-herder and still frequents the Hopeful Hog Inn when he comes to sell his wares, mostly cheese and some occasional fleece. His legendary name and service to Ardolia are all but forgotten but to a few scribes. Most know him now as a drunkard and coward, a storyteller and peddler that will do anything for a pint. Many think him a lunatic, few if any ever having seen him raise his fists in battle less bear his fabled sword, Niren-bar. Yet still he raves on, reminiscing on days of old, his tales long and wrought with death and regret.

*Luga’inzi are fallen Sukka, or angels, that sought to repent for their treachery against Dil-di’kud, god among gods, during the Great Uprising. After the Post-Angelic Wars, Dil-di’kud showed the Luga’inzi favor and granted them the gift of procreation and charged them with the defense of the mortal world. In contrast, the Unrepentant were damned to the gruesome realm of Kita’tin from which they constantly seek to escape.

*Kurumka are the children born of the Luga’inzi. Gatekeepers to the Nether, they are the mortal realm's last defense were the Unrepentant ever to break through. Their ability to regenerate makes them ideal fighters in mortal wars and it is rumored that they have the potential ability to transform when confronted by a Sukka. Kurumka are eternal yet mortal, resulting in them having multiple deaths that may last centuries and multiple lifetimes that are measured in millennia. Each lifetime draws experience and memories from the former, making the Kurumka ever more formable contenders. They live for the call of war and constantly seek to quench an insatiable thirst for blood and battle. However, few remain and even fewer dare to acknowledge their heritage, mostly due to the lack of understanding to what they truly are.

*The Nether is a realm that is ruled by a select few of Luga’inzi and that separates Kita’tin from the mortal realm. A constant battle ground, legions of unpardoned souls daily fight under the banner of Dil-di’kud to fend of the scurge of Unrepentant that are desperately seeking to break through into the land of the living. Kurumka possess the ability to open or close portals to the Nether; however, such occations are only warranted under dire situations.

Name: Psyche

Race: Harpy--These are demonic winged women with beaks and claws, into punishment, torture and death. Starting off as stormy Tornado Goddesses, they are originally fair-haired and beautiful, but one quick makeover and they became screechy, scratchy, vicious and downright unsavoury in every way.

They are snatchers and grabbers of people; the harpy can fly at the speed of sound, and one of her favorite tricks is to defecate upon the unworthy from a great height.
See here for more information:

http://www.godchecker.com/pantheon/greek-m...p?deity=HARPIES

Gender: Female

Dispostition: Generally angry, unless she meets someone who is genuinely good and can help her get what she wants most. However she is rarely inclined to think someone is genuinely good because she is very wary of others and usually doesn't trust other people. She has a one-track mind, and doesn't give up easily in terms of anything.

Body type: Slim, model-like before she transforms. .. gargoyle-like when she is angered and transformed

Current status:
Is looking for the descendant of King Genann the lustful so that she might punish him for his previous crimes against women's chastity, his greed, and, above all, the damage he caused long ago to many "monsters" who were, in most (if not all) cases friends of Psyche's "mother" figure.
She has waited so long because she has only recently been awakened, after all of her Harpy sisters failed (after being killed by Hunters) to do what she is presently trying to do.

Bran - Wood Elf

Same tribe as Tyleet http://forum.darkness.com/index.php?showto...dpost&p=1039320

Bran is a very different personality type, he's a dreamer, storyteller, a poet type, more or less. Everything is a dream to Bran, a new magnificent adventure, that can be expanded upon and made into fairytales.

He's pretty out of touch with reality most of the time, easily lost in thoughts, and prone to daydreaming and fantasising, at times even hallucinating. He lives in his own world, where few others has access.

Bran and Tyleet are the only ones of their age (teens/young adults) in their tribe, and has grown up together. But even she's got a hard time following him at times, and there are things not even she is aware of. Bran has his own secrets, and he guards them well.

With a mass of golden curls, Bran shines like the sun itself. As son of the tribe's healer, he was always expected to carry the same gift, but he's shown no signs yet. Instead it is believed that he may be a dreamteller. Elves lives practically forever, if accidents or violence don't get to them. To avoid going insane with the burden of memories, their minds are wired a little differently, they live in the Now, constantly. There is no past or future, all they focus on is the present. Memories will be triggered when necessary, otherwise stored away and forgotten.

But they can't completely forget the past, someone has to remember. Dreamtellers has this gift of memory, and of storytelling. They will jog their memory with dreamberries, a certain type of berries that makes elves slightly high, like a soft drug. They'll get calm, relaxed, mellow, and gives them light hallucinations. This does nothing more than drug them, usually, but dreamtellers are able to use this buzz creatively, to enhance their storytelling abilities and share stories, and experiences with the tribe. They're the tribes memory, and history.

Name: Calliope
Race: Muse--Godly sisters in charge of the Arts and Sciences, they inspire poets, musicians, writers, philosophers and generally are the inspiration behind the greatest works of writing and art.

Their sublime choir is conducted by APOLLO, who ensures they perform everything in perfect blissful harmony. We can only assume he was on vacation when Country & Western music was invented.

See here for more information:
Muses

Gender: Female

Dispostition:
A jolly disposition, generally looking for a good time (but not sexual) wherever she can find it. She's a trusting person and a nice one as well, but she's liable to get angry--very angry-- if you betray her trust. She doesn't have any nasty powers, but her hurt soul is enough to cause anyone a whole mess of trouble.
She loves song, dance, and all types of art, even if they aren't inspired by her.

Body type: A beautiful woman, generally stunning in mortal and some immortal ways. Calliope is dressed like a goddess, but she has mostly moral beauty.

Current status:
Calliope, having suffered the recent loss of the old artist whose works she used to inspire on a daily basis (and who was like a dear and close friend to her-- almost like the father she never had), is looking for a new artist who she can inspire. She enjoys traveling on this new "quest", at least for the present moment.

Name: Martokash

Race: Human

Age: 47

Profession: Paladin & warlord

Powers: Because he is a paladin, he has a few powers granted from his god, Argon. He can do a little healing when he places his hands on someone, and in the same manner remove poisons, or at least slow them, if it's a particularly efficient poison. Also, he can call upon Argon for aid in battle and temporarily become stronger, more endurant and more dextrous. When facing undead creatures, he can also say a prayer to his god to repel them or even destroy them. These undead creatures are mostly lower unit, though. Zombies, weaker wraiths, mindless skeletons and (un)living shadows. Creatures such as vampires, liches, and the like are too powerful to be banished in this way, but may still dislike it and keep a distance to him. Additionally, other things can happen, which are not explained here, but will perhaps be revealed, as the game unfolds...

Description: He's ambitious and determined, a true patriot, and he never gives up or quits. He's also quite conservative and set in his ways, and as unshakeable when it comes to his beliefs as a rock, and his pride shines like a second sun. His body is enormously muscular and hardened, having seen many battles over the years. He has mastered the use of most weapons, and typically wears a wide arsenal of weapons, usually including a maul, a lance, two swords(one one-handed and one two-handed), and longbow. He usually also has other types of weapons, though what these are vary from time to time. As for armory he wears a full plate mail and also carries a long shield with him. He loads all this gear on his steady companion, a powerful and beautiful, brown, armoured warhorse he has had for years, called Brimja. In short, he's a war veteran and a walking tank

History: Born into a family with a proud bloodline of knights, there was no doubt Martokash was to obey the family traditions and become a knight himself. And he did it with grandeur. Perhaps he is indeed the most legendary member of the family so far, but it remains yet to be seen, as many great deeds have been performed in the earlier generations.

As he reached his 20s, he furthermore decided to become a paladin, in order to serve his beloved god, Argon, who represents honor and strength in man. It didn't take long before he mastered the teachings of the code, and he set out on his pilgrimage to bring glory and honor to his ancestors and prove himself worthy of his noble title.

All of his life he has sougt to protect his homeland from the evil that poisned the lands. As such, he has devoted his life to battling the undead, as well as anyone else who dared threaten 'his' land. A battlehardened veteran, he has driven off or slaughtered many of the beasts that would defile the lands, After many years spent hunting down the creatures of the night he finally returned to a human city as a hero, where he was made a warlord. With his standing army, he now travelled to Cathair Gennan, where there had recently been word the undead and demonic forces were advancing. Now, he has been there for years. holding off a force so vast he has never seen the like... and perhaps never will...

Inquisitor Weir

General Description


Human
5'10"
Lean but strong build
Blonde Hair
Deep tanned face and body
Has a friendly manner, but can become deadly professional if the occasion arises.

-----------------------------------------------
Psychology

Weir is an intensely righteous person. Persuing the enemies of the Church to their, or his, end. He believes in following the truth, and the right path. He is fiercely loyal to his friends, and a bitter enemy to his foes.

Name: Teck
Race: Human
Abilities: Manipulate air (as in wind) and light. Not very powerful with the light thing, mainly he can just turn off lights in any room.
Weapon of choice: Dagger, but he's good with swords.
Age: 45, looks about 30.
Occupation: some sort of bum... alcoholic.

Appearance: Long, brown hair, straight, but full of dust covers his face, leaving only two features visible: An enormous nose and a green eye. He wears two pairs of ragged pants, both so full of holes that the skin of his feet is visible through them, a bettered shirt that must have once been white and a long coat, full of pockets, so dirty, that the history of it's colour can hadly be traced back to the original gree. He is fairly tall, about 5' 7'' and is very thin, due to his rare meals.

History: When he was 3, his mother was convinced that he would become a great man upon growing up and that he should live forever. She went to all sorts of sharlatans until she found a guy that, for a "modest" fee, made her son live longer. If he isn't killed, he will live to be 150.
He was a butcher at the Slaughterhouse for a short time, but retired and shut himself inside him, having accidentally sold human meat once. He bought a guitar and became a bum, because of the disgust he developed towards luxury and the rich nobility. He makes money off playing his guitar on the street and drinks most of it. He kills for small prices and food sometimes and always gets the job done. He always gets away because of his appearance and his ability to create disgust towards him. He still comes to the Slaughterhouse very often, because of the cheap meals and the tall tales he hears.

Description: Teck's guitar is different from a normal instrument. The wizard he bought it from, a madman named Blazzahj, once trapped a soul inside it and therefore, the guitar speaks with Teck. It can show signs when it is restless, contacting other creatures besides Teck, but that is only with his permission.
All Teck wants is to be left alone. More and more people come to him and ask him to entertain them, mostly drunks and if they meet a bad mood, their lives can end unknowingly, behind dark corners. He is almost always half-drunk and he eats a lot when having a big meal in front of him. Not very talkative unless his general bored mood changes, he only really communicates with his guitar, which he often plays at the Slaughterhouse.

Name: Starling Wetherly
Age: 24 yrs
Race: Human
Hair color: Dark red
Eye color: Grey
Skin color: Ivory
Height: 5'7
Weight: 120 lbs
Abilities: Can manipulate wind and darkness

Physical Description: Tall and kind of lanky, and has long hair. Wears a cream colored shirt, black pants tucked into black leather boots, and a dark red velvet coat.


Personality: She is pretty quiet and keeps to herself. But when she does talk it's usually with a sarcastic remark or at least some bit of useful information. She is secretly a spit fire with harldy any patience for anyone. She doesn't like wasting time or goofing around. Is very loyal and determined but curious by nature.


History: Left her village when she was 16 after her family's estate was burned, and everything went with it. Her father died when she was only a young girl, so when the house burned with her dying mother in it, there was nothing left to stick around for. She has roamed the lands ever since looking for a purpose to use her skills.

So many nifty charries.

We should get playin'.

Ooookay. ^^

Name: Angel Kitaso
Age: 25 yrs. old
Race: Human
Hair color: black, with strands of blue/long
Eye color: one bright blue, the other emerald green
Complextion: Pale Tan
Weight: 139 lbs.
Height: 5'8''
Abilities: She can look into a person's eyes, and see their true feelings, their true fears. She has telekinesis, pyrokinesis, Faster Healing.
Occupation: Hired Assassin/wanderer
Weapon(s) of choice: Throwing stars, kitana, hidden dagger.

Description: She wears whatever is available. Right now, she wears a black cloak with a black wardrobe underneath. Though, the clothes underneath are rags, she does not complain. Her hair is usually shadowing her eyes, for she doesn't like to use eye contact. She keeps all of her weapons, except the kitana well-hidden. Also, she wears silver pentacle rings on both of her middle fingers.

Personality: Though, she hasn't had the best life, she loves it and cherishes it for each moment she has. She can be a very sweet person, but when she is on the job, she can turn very violent, dangerous, and unpredictable. She doesn't like to get into things that don't involve her, but she would help someone if she thought they could not help themselves. But, she would slit anyones throat if they dare insult or threaten her. She really does not care for anyone but herself... She can take a lot of pain, things of physical harm barely phase her.

She doesn't use her unnatral abilities much, for she sees no reason too. But, even if she must, if she used them for a long period of time, she would loose most of her energy. That's why she focuses mainly on her swordsmanship and aim with her daggers and throwing stars. She does not talk to someone, unless she is spoke to. She keeps to herself and tries not to interfere with anyone.

History: Her mother was raped and that was how she came to be. Her mother abandoned her at the young age of 10, so she learned how to survive on her own then. She was taken in at age 13, and taught the skills of the sword. Over the years, she has learned many new things. She really doesn't have much of a history other than that. After she left her home, she continued to wander and get money with hired killings. She would kill anyone, if the person paid her enough.
~~~

I hope this is good. :D

I'll join back in but with a new character. Hmmm... I don't know who to pick. x_X

Boss Lady Heretic, should I go for Pretender? or Eclipse but when she's older?

Here's a new one:

Name: Hur Albrecht
Race: Human
Age: 120
Abilities: None other than to prolong his life, although not indefinetly. An ability only he knows about.
Weapon of choice: The crossbow. He's the best in all the land
Occupation: founder and boss of the Slaughterhouse.

Description: Handsome when he was young, he's now only a scrawny and hunched old man with a very crooked nose and a bald head. He wears brown leather clothes, made out of troll skin, therefore impenetrable by most regular weapons.

History: Overhsdowed by his big brother, Hur Greczy, the famous dragon trainer, he came to Cathair Genann during the days of peace. The only thing that bothered him about the city was the Magisterium's secret reign upon it and it's ruthful ways, driven, in his opinion, by extremist religious beliefs, that nobody seemed to notice or contradict. He founded the Slaughterhouse and has been running it ever since. He sits in the center of the Slaughterhouse's main hall all day, in a special seat crafted by himself, taking the customer's orders, giving order's to the flying light creatures who serve the customers and sometimes giving quests. He is said to stay, eat and sleep in that chair, never moving anywhere else.

Personality: A man with an iron will, Hur Albrecht is in complete contradiction with religious beliefs and rituals of any sort. He is a nihilist, but finds a way to get things done every time, just the way he wants. His quests are some of the most difficult, and few people have been able to complete some of them.

Milawyn Thei (later known as Kimiko Murakawa)

Age: 25

Another of the re-incarnations of the angelic saviour Dyveira, Milawyn Thei is a self-proclaimed knight errant, who spends her time searching for a quest she cannot find. Looking, like all the other incarnations, for the reason they were brought into existence, likely in preparation for future events. Milawyn is the closest resemblance to both Dyveira and Kimiko, and is the being many consider to be the prime link between the two, even though she more closely resembles Kimiko, right down to the hair. She is by no means invincible or immortal, but the soul she carries is undying, able to simply re-manifest itself in a new body at birth, and give it the characteristic gray hair and blue-white eyes. Product of a so-called "phantom birth", she has no parents, and seems to have been born out of literal nothingness. However, unlike most of Dyveira's incarnations, Milawyn is somewhat more courageous, and has a small but very present sense of justice. She is still terribly shy, considerably lacks social interaction skills, and is sometimes frustrating to talk to, but is forever loyal to anyone her can gain her trust. Milawyn isn't an expert wielding a sword, but she isn't a pushover, either. Her heavenly powers are, for the most part, dormant, and rarely surface. So much so, even, that she doesn't actually know she possesses them. She has no firm beliefs, and tends to keep away from religion.

The sole weapon she wields is a battered broadsword she once found in a burned-out village destroyed by marauding bandits, and wears little armour, scrounging what she can on her travels.

An additional char:

(Most commonly used)name: Koveras.
Age: 23
Race: Human
Hair color: Light blond, almost white.
Eye color: Grey
Skin color: Light, but not completely pale in that sense
Powers: Who knows? :P

Description: He's musculaly built and has earned himself a very hardened look from living in harsh climates and envoirments. He wears practical clothings. Good, strong, if a bit worn wanderers boots, thick furs, studded leather and a hood. His muscles are as hardened as they look, as he's used to provide for himself. He has several different kinds of weapons, though most are crude and fairly simple. Darts, a net, a sling and some small stones, a wanderers staff, a bow and some arrows he makes himself, and probably other similar stuff he hides in his pockets. Nothing big and heavy that would burden him too greatly on his constant travels.

Personality: Being used to provide for himself, he doesn't really need or feel at home in societies. He's extremely practical and independent, as well as a loner. A true wanderer, he rarely stays in any one place for long. Deep inside he greatly desires to settle down and have a calm life, but he can't find a place where he feels he belongs, and perhaps this is part of the reason for his many travels. Perhaps it is a search for a place for him to call home. He has expirienced many things that has affected him, and for one so young as he he seems incredibly mature and desillusioned. Having left many things and loved ones behind, he also carries a distinct sadness and bitterness with him. He's suspicious and mistrusting of other people, and prefers not to bond emotionally with anyone, knowing from expirience he'll eventually have to leave them again, mostly keeping to himself.

History: He wasn't always on the move, of course. He was born and raised in a small town north of Cathair Gennan, in a family of proud and hardworking farmers. As a small child his mother was accused of being a witch and was burned in public. His father never cried, but Koveras could see the sorrow in his eyes and how it changed him. They had to work harder to keep the farm, and Koveras had a hard but very educating childhood in that way.

As he got into his teens their problems grew considerably. Much of their cattle died and their fields didn't give off as mcuh crops as it used to. It was hard times for Koveras and what remained of his family, but they persistently pressed on. Finally his father became sick with tuberculosis and couldn't work on the farm anymore. Though Koveras worked like a slave to keep it all together, they eventually lost the farm. Koveras was meant to inherit the farm, and now he had lost his future. He took any work he could find to earn food for him and his father, while he put aside all the money he could for medicine for his father. It was far too expensive though, and he would never have enough money for it. Only the upper class of society and the nobility could afford it, and that was the way it was supposed to be.

One day, his father took him by his hands and looked into his eyes, fighting as best as he could to hold back the tears like the proud man he was, and with a trembling voice said, "Koveras, my son. You are old enough to make your own fate now. Go out and do it. You are a man of honour. I am... proud of you... my son". His hands let go of Koveras and the look in his eyes become expressionless and devoid of life. Koveres leaned over and closed his fathers eyes, bowed his head and sat still for a while, overwhelmed by grief and the sudden realization that he hadn't been able to save his father, just as he had been unable to save his mother and the farm. He stood up, packed the most important things and just left the town. Having witnessed the worst in man, and how merciless people were in treating each other, he could no longer stand to live among them. With eyes of a grown man and a single tear slowly running down of his cheek, he set out to find solace and a peace of mind in his own company and the untamed nature.

For the time being he has taken up residence in the mountain known as Mount Nezzra. The mountain none in their right mind would journey to. The mountain from which none of the bold souls who travel to never returns. The mountain from which those few who do are never the same...

And another one...

Name: Aziel
Race: Half-elf
Hair color: Red
Eye color: Clear blue
Skin color: Light
Powers: He can perform a few, minor illusionary tricks.

Description: Aziel is very pretty, but also very thin and not particularly muscular. On the other hand he's extremely dextrous and quick, his speed and moves often leaving people standing stunned in amazement. He wears multi-coloured, attention-craving clothings and could be mistaken for a jester. He has no real weapons, apart from a blowpipe and a sling he uses to tease people with, particularly the nobelty. He also carries a dagger, but that's for practical matters and the occasional pickpocketing.

Personality: Aziel's a good-spirited, joyful and humorous person. He loves to indulge himself in pleasures and is sometimes perhaps a bit too carefree and reckless for his own good. He has a knack for getting himself in trouble, but he usually gets out of it again due to his charming and witty personality. He's a pacefist, and that's the reason he doesn't carry any serious weapons on him, besides him counting on his social skills to get the job done.

Occasionally he becomes impulsive and unpredictable in an urge to get excitement or if the excitement goes too much to his head. He loves colours and expiriences, but will quickly become bored if faced with monotony and drudgery. People often misjudge him as a childish fool, but at times he can be deadly serious, especially when certain topics are brought up, such as his half-breed race. He carries a violin with him that he loves beyond all else. No one's even allowed to touch it. When he plays on it he is almost completely oblivious to his surrondings.

History: Aziel is the outcome of the old love story of two different persons finding together in spite of the unwillingness of others. His mother was an elf and his father a human. Where he origanlly came from the two species keep to themselves and mixing of the species was forbidden. A crime punished with no less than death. Yet Aziels parents loved each other too much to let the laws of their seperate societies keep them apart.

Word of their crime was soon heard, and his parents knew the punishment for their actions was inevitable. They managed to send the baby off with a common friend, a human woman, who then made a deal with a trading caravan to smuggle both of them to Cathair Gennan, where she raised him to the best of her ability.

Becoming a young man, his foster parent had grown old. Knowing old age was catching up with her, she gave him what money she had, along with the violin that his father had owned. She didn't want him to mourn her passing, and told him tears shouldn't be shed for someone who had been granted such a long and rich life, and was even granted the priviledge of a natural death. And then she sent him off to make a living for himself.

He now bewanders the streets of Cathair Gennan, plying his trade as a bard, a gambler and a pickpocket. He's just having a fun time, but he lacks direction, and the longer he goes on the more aware he becomes of it. He still needs to find his place in the world, and that is anything but easy for a half-elf. He loves the city and its magic, but also longs for the green, flourishing woods, and it is this ambivalence that continiues to make him restless. Also, though elves and other creatures inhabit the city of Cathair Gennan, the citizens still regard him with wonder and suspicion. He looks like an elf to most humans, and a human to most elves, and he rarely feels accepted by either. This frustrates him. Sometimes unbearably so.

Dum-Dum-Dum. Here's one I made when I was drunk:

Name: Schlitz, renamed Kimistul
Race: Undead Vampire (read History)
Age: 453
One eye, once green.
No hair
Skin color: Grey, decomposing
Abilities: Extreme Alchemy

Description: Long black robe, with hood, covering all of his body. when he raises his head, the decomposing flesh on his face contains few human features - the lower half of a nose, an empty eye socket, the other being occupied by a pulsating red eye, the absence of the lower jaw, leaving the sharp teeth of a vampire to be seen.

Personality: Due to the absence of his lower jaw, he can only speak using magic, whispering, therefore he's not a very outspoken person. He's very confident in his abilities as an alchemist, but otherwise, he's quite a tortured soul. Kimistul is in constant pain, both mentally and physically.

History: Once a peasant, he was turned into a vampire, but slain. A powerful necromancer brought him back, as a zombie. During his days as a vampire, his wife was killed by an arrow through her hear. He keeps her conserved in a saline solution in a pool, at the back of his laboratory, the Den. He hopes to be able to bring her back to life one day. Until then, he uses her to create blood, in case vampires are too lazy to hunt. He can create any potion for any purpose now, therefore being quite able of helping others except himself.

You'll find out the rest by playing.

Name~ Amaqueria
Race~ Human/Elf
Height~ 5`6
Weight~ 125
Hair~ Shoulder length Dark Brown
Eye~ Dark Brown

Background/Discript/Personality~ Her mother, Robin, was an unnaturally stunning human and she played the lute beautifully. Those were her only attributes. She is completely clueless in all other respects. She worked at the The Hopeful Hog playing her lute for room and board her music enchanting any and all that came in contact with it, including the elf Dryearlylth.

Dryearlylth belonged to a very small group of warrior elves headed for the Temple Ruins to dispose of the evil there believing it was the reason their woods were plagued with beasts and spirits and things unclean. Using his influence he had the group go out of its way to see if they could find any errant elves or mercenaries to join them at Cathair Gennan. Having enough money they stayed at the prestigious inn where Dryearlylth heard a skilled hand strumming an instrument and having it come out with the voice of the birds. Immediately enthralled he turned to see the astonishing beautiful human playing a lute and fell deeper into the glamour ( i.e. a spell of enchantment not only making Robin look better to eyes of the one the lute chooses but also charming anyone that hears the music) the lute itself was casting on the inhabitants. The witless human Robin having long ago thought she was the one creating the heavenly music from the rosewood and rose decorated lute she had found as a child by the road next to a downed tree and a crooked blackened stick.

Dryearlylth had the group of elves stop for nigh on a year so he could woo the witless yet stubborn human maiden. Having done so most of his company left him disgusted with their leaders intermingling with a human; his mercenaries not being paid left him with whatever they could snag from the remaining elves. He finally won her over. He ‘taught’ her his clan’s elvish tongue (The lute picked up more of it then Robin) and got her pregnant with is child before telling her it was past time for him to confront the evil. Of course it was past time and his fate was stamped, sealed and hand feed to him through a pretty face and the sprits lurking in the lute.

The lute belongs now to Amaqueria. Amaqueria was named in Dryearlylth elvish tongue by a distraught and lonely mother to mean Beautiful Forgotten Hunter and something in the lute that already knew what was to be Amaqueria’s fate… as it had her father. Dryearlylth left her his spare and prized saber. The design of leaves and stems being seen on the Blade the hilt made of simple curved elvishly made golden metal to make a hand guard. The grip covered in a black leather type cloth though much sterner.

Robin died of a broken heart after less then five years of Dryearlylth leaving to dispose of the evil in the Temple ruins. Before Robin died she gave the babe Amaqueria to a man she had run across on her trek to the temple ruins. Robin, being the whit less she was or mayhap it was the sprits of the lute guiding her hand guiding her hand, went the wrong way. The man found soon found her cold dead body thrown up onto the rivers beach, the lute and saber next to her side unharmed.

Amaqueria’s childhood was grueling, living in the forest with only her ‘Mentor’ for company was pleasant at times but she had no one to play with beside the animals and Peter worked her to the bone knowing that strengthening a female was the best course.

Peter isn’t a very talkative person and he has seen too much to be anything less then strict when it came to how `Ria was raised. Peter had been a mercenary and had fought back legion of the undead in his own day only to have to deal with a frightened little half breed. He worked her harder on that point as well no approving of the intermingling of the two species. `Ria caught on to that and tried her best to act as human and conservative as Peter did almost completely controlling her impulsive side, almost.

She occasionally does things out of the blue including her taking in of the wounded ‘horse’ she had found in the forest. She named it Ruonna again doing something you don’t think she would do: she named it in her father’s tongue to mean Dream Keeper. She soon found out that Ruonna wasn’t just a normal foal when its golden horn started too grown from beneath its snow white main. She was shocked to also notice its hooves begin to change from a grayish white to a dulled silver.

She lived with Peter for a while until he died of old age and bid her to seek out something called The black Raven to further her training with her sword so that she could get back at the evil as Peter himself couldn’t and to avenge her father…

`Ria is serious and calm in the face of most anything, even if she’s shaking inside, though she is prone to burst in to laughter at the oddest of times. She has an impulsive streak and can be almost oblivious to the real risks involved in what she does.

Her skill with her saber it exceptional; her beauty a mixture of humanly good looks and immortal radiance; so far no magical ‘elfness’ has turned up that may be because of her tendency to suppress her elf side; she plays the lute flawlessly and by her own hand no trace of the sprits lingering being shown to surface as of yet.

She wears green pants small pocket holes showing fairly pale skin run up the out side of her legs. Her choice of foot wear is under the knee green hard cloth boots trimmed in a gold color at the top. Her shirt is also a color green to match her pants it shows her stomach, is sleeveless, and ties up. Her hands are covered in fingerless mid forearm length gloves and she has, what only could be called, a black snake bracelet around the upper arm of her right arm. She can also be seen with brown feather earrings in the lobe of her slightly pointed ears.





Name~ Genevieve
Race~ believed to be human
Age~ 20
Height~ 5`5
Weight~ 120
Hair~ Dark red mid back
Eye~ Green/Silver

History/Discript/Personality~ She was left on the churches doorstep as a baby with nothing more then a scrap of blanket one of the brothers saw her infantile body out in the snow, a blizzard was raging. He was a cold man this Brother he didn’t much like doing things that didn’t benefit him in some way or another so he left it there… besides the supper gong did chime he wouldn’t want to miss dinner. The monk thought that if the child could last the few hours that was involved in the services it might just be worthy of being helped. The Brother didn’t expect to see the infant alive when he came back but low and behold it was a shade of blue but you could tell it was alive. Still he passed it by leaving it on the steps expecting to find it had been found dead in the morning.

A couple hours after that another young Brother by the name of Wolfram found the blue yet somehow still living infant and took it in. He felt he owed something to the all powerful one being as he was taken in and helped by the church as well when he was of the small age of six nearly ten years from when he had found Genevieve. Wolf raised the girl on what he received from his bounties and when the girl was big enough he began teaching her his trade: the church had personally trained him to do their dirty work weather it be to infiltrate the elves camp (Wolf is a half elf) and try to get information from them or if some one happened to be stirring up trouble to put an end to it, to them.

Genna’s child hood was nothing less then hard: Wolf had her do chores like any other squire would have and then some after that. She was always carrying water up from the springs or watching the Paladins in training going at it. She couldn’t fight them: they wouldn’t dare show how much better Genna, a female no less, was then them. She got into quite a few fights on the point of her unknown birth and they would joke about the difference between her red hair and ‘blue’ skin, if you look closely her body does have a faint blue tint to it in the right lights …lending ideas to what she may have come from…, until Wolf told her the next time she fought with someone of a higher rank then her he’d take the switch to her. Her back still has scaring from the thrashings she received before she learned to put her emotions on hold.

Genevieve spent the majority of her childhood, when she wasn’t in trouble or doing chores she wasn’t required to attend the church services she was of unknown birth most likely a bastard and she was damned for her parents sins whatever they may be, as Wolf’s partner until he disappeared around her 18th birthday. Genna left the church suspecting fowl play on their part. The church seemed to take it fine and she is now a hired mercenary going where ever profits her the most. Wolf taught her to be coldly dispassionate for anything less then something that touched her deeply as a result she has a very stony look to her face her eyes are near to lifeless only a flicker of what she could have been being showing in their depths. This expression mutes the effect of her pretty face. Genna’s no beauty by any means and scars are apparent on her neck and her body is covered in small nicks and cuts though small they can be seen. She thinks before she acts and this can sometime cause her to respond a bit slowly when talking to a person when she fights she’s one with what she does she feels the movement and moves.

She’s a loner to say the least but she does except company, she has to sometimes. She is prone to prefer certain female’s company to other male’s and at the same time she can scoff and look down at females, especially if they don’t help themselves when they can. She likes being on equal ground with a person but most of the other mercenaries see her as a threat while others laugh at her because she is a female and an employer is never on the same level as the one being hired.

She has experience in all weapons but prefers two smaller swords to one big one. In dire situations magic does come about but we’ll leave what she does for later… Because movement is important in her line of duty Genna wears little more then a loin cloth type skirt in a dusty red that falls to her ankles and a skirt of scale mail that hits to about mid thigh that attaches to her belt. She wears another piece of armor fitted to her chest that leaves all major joints free to move and her stomach exposed but for a bit of cloth. She wears gauntlets made of tough but flexible leather that end before her elbows and over the knee boots of very thick and very pliable black leather. Her cloak is again of a dusty red and includes a hood and enough extra to hide a few tools of her trade and obscure her face and body though it is apparent that she is female.


...I have a couple more coming but this should do it for now and I hope thoes work right...

Name: Rav’hanark Vanderheyden

Nickname: Violet or Le sang implorent “AkA Blood Crave”

Age: Unknown, He has been around since wake of his kind.

Race: Blood Craver “known now as the pure blood, but of a different kind- more in history”

Height: 6’2” – But also, he can shape shift, such as in the theory in Blade Trinity.

Eyes: A misted violet his pupils red as blood when hungry.

Hair: A black that turns a silverfish blond when unleashing his form.

Weight: Certainly unknown, he would never to weigh himself, or see himself in a mirrior.

Abilities in vampirism: He can use his eyes as a lure and to make his prey freeze on the spot, only the unworthy can not withstand his eyes, and that being humans. He can also posses great speeds and can jump as high as a bird can fly, in that a low glide of a bird, his strength is the most unusual of them all, he could easily rip the arm of a human but would rather fight fair if ever brought into a dual. His teeth are different also, unlike many vampires his kind “Blood cravers” don’t have two teeth but four, two on the lower and two on the upper and their jaw can unlock to give them an successful bite, but this is only to bite lethally. He never uses the bite of death no more, he would rather feed using the two teeth method, also another change to his old kind is that he could make sure his blood consuming was at a normal level not to kill his victim but to render them useless till they regain control again. His containment of power is a very tricky process, he never mastered his full power but sealed it in side of him, as long as he wear his necklace and left index fingers ring he will stay inline.

Weapon: Everything to do with this person was a weapon, to say, he is the perfect human, but, sadly he isn’t a human. His weapon when fighting morally is a rapier which he uses swiftly the metal it was made of unlike others, not too strong to break their metal but not weak to break at the least, his second weapon is his cape, he wore a cape they no one can see but surly, I can tell you its there, he can make it form into chains or blades, his illusions were not common to the normal bloods and usually got him into a lot of trouble.

Description: Tall and thin, his body held no sign of strength but more of a wealthy kind of young fellow, his eyes would hit you like a train at full speed and his steps quiet he would appear from no were and with a long, hard, white grin that would make you a stiff if not knowing oh his presence, he had long but delicate hands, the skin soft and looked like he had not even played in the dirt as a youngen. His arms thin but held slight sign of fat or musical around them up to his broad shoulders, he wore a black suite with a purple silk shirt underneath that was tidily buttoned up with no bow or tie as to show that he was not of a business man or anything of the kind, he wore casual leather shoes that tapped as he walked. His hair let out always straight never to sway but only to the wind or how he looked down to the floor as he walked letting it fall over his eyes and face, A cane he held in his right hand also a glove over the right hand that was a violet with a white riming around the lip of the glove that he vigorously tugged at to keep tight upon his delicate hand. He was a pale man and looks as if he didn’t have much contact with many people, his vampiric state was never alerted to so he has kept a peaceful man and looks as if he hadn’t ever been touched or fought.

History: Vampires have come a long way, a very long way, since history has gone back as to what I remember, vampires weren’t like the cliché’ vampires you see around here, phht, halve breeds and fledglings, the vampires I remember were not of the kind, never human and were placed into this world from a temple of unknown powers that has been buried since they all walked through it, over one thousand Blood cravers walked out onto that plain, and only three hundred survived and lay dormant ready to awaken with a loud moan and need for the fresh clean thick liquid of blood…

Stories have been made about Drake the king of vampires, but its all blasphemy. Drake was a pure blood but tainted with power tried to make an army of vampire followers, it worked but only because most of the pure bloods were laid to rest in underground temples by one of the knights of the Blood crave army, a holy or shall I say unholy knight, Rav’hanark Vanderheyden, the keeper of the elders that rest and now wander and vanquisher of rampant purebloods, his history of blood cravers went back to the days but he forgot about it all as he grew older, its true other pure blood vampire clans have raised from hell, but these pure bloods of Blood cravers are not of the kind that are hells minions but of another world.

Why they were brought to this world was unknown as to what they really were, Drake ruled over most in secrecy and was also brought down in secrecy but to his crazy outlooks brought a new outlook to the world of vampirism. Rav’hanark Vanderheyden was the only of his kind walking the plains now and he had other young bloods running around him, his soul shattered by the deeds they set upon and he would now try rule them, his history short but not too short of a story book if talking to the fellow.


Note- yes I know you said no real “powerful” characters but I couldn’t resist, he is not that strong anyways clear :D he is more of a moral man, would fight by a code of honor to the way humans would fight, but never will let an assassin get him way, seeing the sneaky approach a nasty approach.

So he isn’t powerful or imbalanced, just right, and the only vampire I see at the moment, whoa is me, to call upon blood of another. Oh well, maybe someone is willing to take the teeth softly into their soft skin to an eternal path of life with such a lonely man ;). Hope yous like the small bio i threw together ^_^.

Well here goes, been forever since I've actually done any real Roleplaying.

Name: Thathaniel
Height: 6’7”
Weight: 185lbs
Age: Unknown
Race: (Giant) Elf
Eye: Violet with flecks of blue and red
Hair: Dark brown with blond and black streaks

Job/Profession: Cleric to Hu’dre Vra, sword smith
Weaponry: Extremely large spiked mace; long spiked chain
Clothing/Armor: Red and black robes; no armor worn due to hardened skin

History: Thathaniel (Thath for short) was born in a village of giant elves. For unknown reasons Thath was never able to manifest the innate magic that is inside every elf. For this, Thath was heavily picked on by the elves his age. Eventually, near the beginning of his adolescence period, he elected to leave in search of a way to gain magical power. Foolishly, he left without any supplies other than the clothes he was wearing. He didn’t get far before a heavy storm hit. Hiding out in a cave, he was approached by a dark armored figure.

The man (or so Thath assumed) introduced himself as “Vra”. Vra told Thath that he knew where Thath could attain true magical prowess, if he so desired. All Vra asked was that Thath served him for a short period of time. Naturally, Thath accepted.

Upon accepting Vra’s offer, a strange doorway opened in the back of the cave, which Vra went through and asked Thath to do the same. The doorway led to a strange area the likes of which Thath had never seen before. In this area the flow of time was altered so that spending six months in the area would cause a day to pass in Ardolia.

Vra taught Thath the very basics of magic. By the time Thath was out of his adolescent period Vra had moved on to teaching Thath an ancient art of magic known as “Time Magic”. Thath learned how to manipulate the flow of time, and even the very space around objects.

Vra then taught Thath physical combat and also showed Thath the art of sword smithing. When one year had passed on Ardolia (Roughly one hundred eighty years for Thath) Vra bestowed upon Thath a very long black chain covered in spikes, a black mace with an enormous spiked head and large red and black robes, along with this gift Vra gave Thath the gift of armor hard skin. Thath then found himself back in that old cave he had hid in so very long ago. With a warning from Vra, that if he should ever turn from him, his powers would fade.

When Thath finally made his way back home, he was at first greeted with incredulity at his story. Upon providing proof of his magical abilities, however, he was asked by an elder where he had learned such powers. “A man named Vra”, Thath answered. Hearing this, the elder’s eyes went wide with surprise, and he had Thath arrested on the grounds that Thath was a servant of an enemy of elves. While imprisoned it was explained to Thath that Vra was really the ancient god Hu’dre Vra an evil god that had power over the dominions of time and war. Long, long ago the followers of Hu’dre Vra engaged the (then one race) elves in a full-scale war, with the elves being victorious. Having lost his followers the god Vra lost most of his power and thus became a sworn enemy of all elves.

The elder pleaded with Thath to renounce Vra, but Thath refused. The elder then said that as long as Thath was a follower of Vra he would remain imprisoned. Thath did not remain imprisoned for very long though, gathering his magical energy he forced the space between his bars to expand rapidly, forcing the bars to bend and provide him a means of escape. He then slowed time in and directly around the village, save on himself, allowing him to quickly escape unnoticed.

The next day, far away from the village while he was bathing in a stream, he took a good look at himself and was shocked to see that where his hair had been golden blond, dark streaks were beginning to show, and where his eyes had been crystal blue, flecks of red were appearing. Later he would realize that the longer he spent in Vra’s service the more that changed.

Ever since that day he has been living off the land, traveling wherever he desires, doing what he can to serve his master Vra. He didn’t spend so long being taught to lose it all now.


Abilities:
Thathaniel can cast time/space/gravity related magic though it is taxing on him and he only does so if it is necessary. If he casts more than one spell in an hour’s time he is forced to get a full nights rest before he can cast anything more. He cannot cast more than three spells in an hour’s time; he merely lacks the energy required. Though over time he does get stronger, it takes months of practicing energy gathering to truly show any sign of becoming more powerful.

Thathaniel is a very slender built, even for an elf. However, he is still very powerful.

Name: Lina
Race: Human
Age: 23
Occupation: Castle Guard

She's in her early 20s, and used to work as a town guard in Cathair Genann, but recently accepted an appointment as a guard in the Foehn Winds Castle up in Mt Nezzra. It's initially a five-year contract, but the terms are good, the pay is better, and few of the guards that accepts ever return to the village, they seem to prefer working up in the Castle.

Parting is such sweet sorrow, and Lina shed her brave tears when she bid farewell to her family and travelled up into the mountain to start her new job some four months ago.

Physichally, she's pretty, though not extraordinary. The typical buff look of her job prevents her from finding her true feminine side. Long, blond hair usually kept in a ponytail, for practical reasons, and slender built.

-NPC-

Buer

A healer who resides in Turien woods. He heals those who are in need of it, occasionally appearing at will, and other times can be found in his shack (which doesn't seem to have an exact location).

He has a great knowledge of the forest, and knows a secret or two which he will occasionally impart upon a traveller which he deems worthy. But he can also lie, and spin tales to amuse himself.

He has a great knowledge of herbs, which he will sell to anyone who can find him. he has an odd way of talking as well (probably born out of a life of mainly solitude, but also, he seems to find it amusing). He is not considered human, yet you could not tell him apart from any other.

He has sometimes helped a un-wary traveller out of a tight spot, but this is un-common and doesn't happen often, though, he is known far and wide for it. Some people have often put themselves in vunerable positions in order to attract his attention and be able to buy some of his legendary herbal creations. But it never works, and often results in loss of life! He appears to those he chooses, not the other way round.

He looks old in appearance, with a white beard, a knobbly wooden staff and hunched back. His small stature and fragile frame would lead one to believe he is defenseless. But he is more than capable of handling himself when it's necessary. He wears a rugged brown coat, full of pockets in which are hundreds of different herbs, potions and scrolls. He is almost amusing in this respect.

All right, this'll be my first attempt at online role play, so all you mean people: Be nice.

And all you nice people: Be mean.

Name: UjLonak /OOJ-loh-nak/
Race: Unknown
Age: Unknown
Height: 7'7"
Residence: Turien Woods

UjLonak's hair is long and going grey, though it appears to have once been quite dark. What is still dark is almost black (almost black); all with a slightly blue tint; which is visible mostly in the dark hair usually only in the shine from sunlight, in the grey hair, the grey seems simply to be slightly bluish (slightly bluish).

UjLonak's eyes are a very light blue (light blue).

UjLonak has no facial hair, none grows. He's been living in the Turien Woods, but hasn't had much contact with other people, though he has been seen since his arrival and does enter various towns on occasion.

UjLonak doesn't know where he came from, but has odd memories of a place very much unlike anything he's thus far seen in Ardolia. He first appeared in the Turien Woods when he was an age resembling that of a human in his early thirties, though he only knows this by having been told. He's been living in the woods mostly keeping to himself for over five decades and has aged accordingly, although UjLonak doesn't feel as an old man.

While his appearance is aged, his stature is no less than when he arrived and his mental faculties are keen.

Since his arrival, UjLonak has felt the need to record events he is aware of and has spent a great deal of his earnings purchasing the tools required to do so; paper, ink, writing utensils. He has stocked a very large store of these materials so that he would not be in need of them. For him, this feels not uncommon, though his recollections of where he came from tell him that only one or two of the people he once knew behaved similarly.

UjLonak also records his dates in an odd manner. Yet another hold over from memories he really can't access is the urge to record a 444 day year, despite decades ago having learned that no one else records dates in this manner. He refers to his calender (though no months exist) as E.D., though he doesn't know what those letters stand for.

He's not at all particular about letting others read what he's recorded, either. In fact, he encourages others to tell him of their encounters so that he can add as much detail to what others have called his journal, though he will refer to it as his chronicling.

During his time in Ardolia, he has learned that he can perform spells, though they only ever have anything to do with the specific elements of nature: air, water, earth, fire, or any combination of those, resulting in anything from quite passive to very offensive in nature.

It is UjLonak's perception that larger spells drain more of his energy, but through the years, his endurance and rate of performance have increased; indeed some spells seem to not require any energy at all.

Many spells have what he calls Effect: a cloud of mist or sparkling of varying colors which journeys (speed also varies) to the target location of the spell. Some spells either never had, or no longer have Effect.

Some spells happen immediately while others, regardless of the presence of Effect, take time.

UjLonak's prominence with spells is water and the occassional combination of air, thus a profficiency in 'cold' spells.

He is only capable of light travel and has taken to walking with a staff which is almost as long as he is tall. Many times, UjLonak has taken to using his staff instead of one hand or both to direct a spell. Over time, the staff has seemed to take on the aspects of some spells, in that others can take his staff and cause a number of his spells to occur. Though, to date, only his lesser spells have been performable by those holding his staff. The deduction is that they are the ones used most commonly.

One of the only things UjLonak owns that he believes he had before he arrived in Ardolia is a small white stone that seems to glow slightly. Most times, he feels the need to be carrying this stone when performing spells.

Many of his spells require no vocalization, however almost as many do. The spells which he must vocalize use words he does not know the meaning of, nor the origin. However, the words seem to him to be the only words that will allow said spells. Again, over time, some spells no longer require the words to be spoken; which is not to say that he merely thinks the words—the words are no longer used. When a spell has no vocalization (whether or not it once did), he only thinks of the spell itself and the desired consequence.

Whenever an idea for a new spell occurs to UjLonak, he must practice it first, for in the beginning, new spells are always too powerful, instead of too weak. One of his first attempts at cooling a communal container of water resulted in the entire container freezing; which, even in the immense heat, did not show signs of melting for nearly an entire day. UjLonak learned very quickly to not attempt an unfamiliar or new spell in the vicinity of living creatures.

Any attempt at spells not supported specifically by the elements of nature have resulted in extreme fatigue lasting anywhere from days to weeks, and are never successful.

Water spells have results varrying from moistening a cloth, to causing great pools of water to appear.

Air spells result in anything from small breezes to great gusts of wind.

Fire spells are anything from sparks too weak to have any consequence other than minutely burning a piece of straw, to the eruption of massive flames capable of immediately engulfing entire buildings.

Earth spells can cause small hills to rise or force large trees to topple.

The combination of spells create results which depend on the intensity of either spell in the combination.

With spells that do not or no longer require vocalization, the separate elements are not given separate thought, again only the spell and desired consequences are thought of.

Water/Air spells can cause anything from rain to hail to fog or distant clouds.

Earth/Fire spells have resulted in the generation of sand, sometimes good for putting out fires. When combined with Air, it can result in flaming rock falling from the sky.

Earth/Water combinations have resulted in his ability to assist in the healing process of creatures and plants, though these spells have been very difficult for him.

Earth/Water/Air combinations most often result in lightning, though secluded practice revealed that such spells were difficult to control and caused too much damage to seem to have any practical application.

Experimentation does not generally occur as the results have been disastrous. Only when UjLonak thinks of a specific desire to suit a specific cause will he attempt new spells or combinations.

I'll come back and add some back story once I get a little more familiar with the area others have created, and when I've got a few more ideas, myself.

The Vites owned by Hur Albrecht.

A race otherwise known as pixies or fairies.

Description: Very small humanoid forms. They have glowing bodies, generating a blue light, a different shade for every individual. They fly.

Personality: Loyal to the death and playful when owned, hiding and rarely seen when free.

History: The Vites of Hur Albrecht were given to him by the Lich of Mount Nezzra, in exchange for the favor of saving his life one day. They come to multiply in an unknown way every now and then, and follow his orders exactly. He is the only one who can control them.

Name: Lacante Vasser

Nickname: LDH ‘Love dies hard’ or Red

Age: 487 "Should be 2307" Looks like a 38 year old rich kid

Race: Vampire but a half breed to and due too his father and mother, yes a vampire born from the womb. But his mother was that of an air elementalist, letting him manipulate air.

Height: 5’10”

Eyes: Blue with a yellow tint like look around the edges.

Hair: Black ,thou when light hits it in areas a red shade appears out from it, his hair is also in a style were all of it is pulled to one side like a comb over but, it is long and goes down past his chin, and when not style it is everywhere or just a normal messy ling look.

Weight: Unknown.

Abilities: Combusting and reform- a little trick he picked up to avoid staking and killing the hunter that is using the method of killing his kind.

Abilities in vampirism: Mending, slight shape shifting, strength, Turning and daemon spawn wings – which is a surprise to his vampiric ways.

Weapon: “lover not a fighter” but with a shit load of throwing knifes that he can randomly produce he is a deadly weapon himself, his accuracy and pose of throwing knifes is very amazing, his main and loved weapon is his hatchet which he would use one hand to slowly chop you up. He promises to make it slow :D.

Casual Attire: Well, he doesn’t really walk around in suits and war uniforms, he is a real passionate and weird fellow. But he dose wear some weird things, he mainly wore a robe around the castle and some times a long sleeve button up white baggy shirt that you would usually see a pirate wearing, he wore pants, well some times and they were usually another thing brought with the expense of gold. Which the two vampires had most of, that is Lacante and Rav’hanark Vanderheyden, they would let other vampires use the castle as a refuge even thou a queen attains the hold of the castle, they are still too strong, she would not dare to defy her strongest of allies.

History: Rav’hanark Vanderheyden Picked up Lacante over a period in time behind Mount Nezzra when a village was burned and two parents fought along the hundreds of hunters in a battle that wasn’t his, Rav’hanark left with the baby in hand walking past the arrows that whizzed past his ears and face not flinching once, Lacante was in the form of a five year old and wasn’t so strong for a halfling, and spite the hatred he “rav” had too fledgling vampires he kept and raised Lancante like a son. Rav was a very rich man, he held objects from many hidden caves and dungeons of fallen kings and took the items for himself and sold most of them becoming the richer bastard you would love to kill, he never showed it of, as did Lancante, he was only young and Rav knew that’s what drove Lancante to maturity as he would.


Lancante’s history with Rav but it extended out to lands unknown by all, but lets just say he has been a bad boy, and is waiting for punishment.

Name: Willow Rowe
Age: 408 years
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 118 lbs
Race: Vampire
Eye color: Bright Teal
Hair: Dark Brown, mid-back length
Skin: Ivory

Physical description:
Wears a dark teal and black corset under an all black floor-length trench coat. On her feet she only wears her black leather boots. She wears nothing but black eye makeup. Her lips are naturally a dark pink. All of her jewelry is silver. She has a ring for every finger, and one necklace that has a large white crytal moon hanging on it.


Personality:
One might say that Willow sees herself as an "equal" to the male species, but that's only because it's true. She doesn't like being pushed around or being told "No". Willow isn't afraid to fight back or speak her mind. She does have a soft side to her though. She is very loyal to those close to her, never does she betray anyone or anything that has been confided in her. She would die fighting if that is what she was meant to do. She is a hopeless romantic at heart and always dreams big for herself. Often alone at times, she just sits and day dreams.


History:
Willow grew up in her father's estate as a child, her mother died at her birth, and she had no siblings. She was isolated for years, with no one but an old man teaching her. She is well educated and enjoys reading old artifacts. As she grew older, her father, a local dictator, took her on adventures with him so she grew very fond of the outdoors. One late evening while she was walking through the woods to get home back from spending an afternoon at the creek behind her home, she was stopped by a lonely individual that she soon would discover to be a vampire. He claimed to be "hypnotized" by her beauty and so he bit her, then turned her into a vampire as well. He left her in the woods. And about 2 days later she finally gained enough strength to make it home. Luckily her father was not home and she coped with her new change. After a few weeks of "getting used" to what she now was, she decided to find others out there like her. So she left her home with only some of her belongings and eventually found one who was also a companion to another vampire. The one she clings to, his name is Lacante.

Abilities: The typical vampire traits......

Name: AnJelok /an-JEL-ahk/
Race: Unknown
Age: 747 years by his reconning
Height: 7'11"
Residence: Cathair Gennan

AnJelok appeared suddenly near the outskirts of the community known as Cathair Gennan. He was accompanied by two others: Yotukon and LutRlek. As their stories are connected, it is worth mentioning here that this groups' appearance in Ardolia happened more than fifty years after UjLonak's appearance.

AnJelok's hair is long, extending just beyond his shoulders, and mostly grey; though it is ever so slightly blue (slightly blue). He appears to be a very old man with aged skin, though he does not walk as though he were old. He carries a staff which he walks with, but does not lean heavily on.

AnJelok's eyes are a heavy blue (heavy blue).

AnJelok has no facial hair, none grows. He is a stranger to the land of Ardolia apart from the people he's met upon arrival. His arrival was a method that he and his friends (Yotukon and LutRlek, AnJelok has no knowledge of UjLonak's presence) have difficulty explaining.

Where he was previously, AnJelok knew the date to have been E1457D208. The means of he and his friends' arrival is confusing to him and, thus is the world he now finds himself.

AnJelok is, however, a wise man. He has lived for 747 years, though he soon learned that his measure of time was not the same as where he now found himself.

In his land of origin, he is what is known as a Zzar (/zuh-ZAR/) a race capable of magik that manipulates the elements of nature.

The only belonging AnJelok appeared with is a staff and, for now, is his only means of performing magik. Where he came from, his Kind used Mana rocks to attain the energy necessary for personally performing spells.

All of the spells AnJelok uses require words to be performed, and all of these he knows through clear recollection. All of the spells he can perform are ones that he has had many years to practice, stemming from the use or combination of Earth, Fire, Air, and Water as the basic tools.

Water spells have results varrying from moistening a cloth, to causing great pools of water to appear.

Air spells result in anything from small breezes to great gusts of wind.

Fire spells are anything from sparks too weak to have any consequence other than minutely burning a piece of straw, to the eruption of massive flames capable of immediately engulfing entire buildings.

Earth spells can cause small hills to rise or force large trees to topple.

The combination of spells create results which depend on the intensity of either spell in the combination. The execution of spells requiring more than one element also require control over the level of the elements being used.

Water/Air spells can cause anything from fog to clouds, though no form of precipitation. For any form of precipitation to occur, AnJelok must combine a very weak Earth element with the mix.

Earth/Fire spells have resulted in the generation of sand, sometimes good for putting out fires. When combined with Air, he can summon flaming rock to fall from the sky.

Earth/Water combinations result in his ability to assist in the healing process of creatures and plants. This is one of his best strengths.

Earth/Water/Air combinations result in lightning. As a natural extension of his familiarity with Earth/Water combinations, AnJelok is also very skilled at them.

The only spell that does not have an obvious connection to the elements is the spell called 'Cast'. This spell bestows any given other spell to a physical target. AnJelok and his Kind have never attempted to Cast a living creature, though this spell is what allows him to now use his staff, as many spells were bestowed to it.

Cast, when used, can have one of two results. The target will either become a radiator of the given spell, or a carrier. Often, rocks have been Cast Fire so that they become a source of heat. With AnJelok's staff, it has been Cast with many spells that can now, with AnJelok's will alone, be performed. With the absence of Mana rocks, this has proven very beneficial to him.

Name: Namir Sharama. Also called Cat, kitty (only when she's actually a cat) when she's a dog someone once called her Lunar which kind of stuck.
Age: Looks about 18
Race: Her Dad was mortal and her Mom was a cat demon, so Namir was born with traces of the cat demon, tail, ears, claw like nails etc. However after getting on the wrong side of a priest she was cursed genes of a dog demon. Her cat like ears turned into dog ears and she now has some traces of a dog demon.
Height: 5"5
Hair: silver, long with a fringe that falls into her eyes.
Eyes: cat likes, iris silver.
Ears and tail: also silver, however the tip of her tail is red.
Occupation: thief, guard, (ironic, no?) if you pay her well and she's interested, you've got yourself a deal.
Description: Namir for someone who is mortal, cat and dog demon is quite pretty in an unusual way. Slenderly built (due to her cat genes) she is surprisingly quite strong (dog genes) and can run up to lightening speeds (both genes helped her in this case).
She likes to wear clothes that are easy to move in and don't make her stand out further, as with a tail and ears she does quite a lot. Black cotton trousers, are fitted to her athletic legs and a simple black tunic with no sleeves, provides her with the protection she needs. A silver weaved belt rests upon her hips. She wears no shoes has her soles are thick like tough leather, yet soft like velvet. She can easily run across thorns and not pierces by a single one. She wears a black beaded necklace with fangs, she wears it as a priestess cursed her with a type of holding spell (since Namir tried to steal a valuable piece of history I'm not surprised).

Attitude and traits: Namir's attitude changes quite frequently, but then she does have both cat and dog demons genes within her as well as human.
One of her traits are her ears, sometimes you can tell how she is when one or both, of her ears begin to twitch. Her tail is also the same, twitching slightly from side to side, now and again getting in everybody's way.

Abilities: Strength, speed, fast healing, remarkable hearing and eyesight.

History: Mother and Father, both dead, well at leasts she thinks so. Her father surely is being a mortal he died a few centuries ago. Her mother, well she doesn't really care.
Her mother, Bast Namir, met her father, John De'Bow, whilst out hunting. Enthralled by his ways she decided to sleep with him however to her dismay found herself pregnant with Namir. John wanted nothing to do with Bast or Namir, he knew that the night he and Bast spent togther was a mistake, considering they were both married. Namir was given to the temple of the cat demons, as she was shunned by both sides. Bast already had a son and John already had two children. She was raised in the temple until she came of age and she left. John by then was dead and his two children had children of their own.

Namir travelled around, stealing to survive, this the cause of being cursed with dog genes. After getting into a argument with a priest about the right of stealing he cursed her and it was hoped that Namir's stealing abilities would diminish, if anything they improved. Her life as a thief only went down hill after meeting an elven priestess and she was cursed with a holding spell from stealing, unless it was completely nessecary and instructed to do so. Namir tried and found the consequences were not worth enough to continue.
She now travels around, not really doing anything, sometimes she thinks she should be finding an elf to remove the necklace but she never bothers in the end.

Name: Yotukon /YOH-TOO-KON/
Race: Unknown
Age: 669 years by his measurement
Height: 7'9"
Residence: Cathair Gennan

Yotukon appeared suddenly near the outskirts of the community known as Cathair Gennan. He was accompanied by two others, both long-time friends of his: AnJelok and LutRlek.

Yotukon's hair is long, but held behind his head with a strap of dried animal-skin. It is still mostly blonde (mostly blonde), though there is much hair with a green tint (green tint). In his old age, there are a number of strands of grey; which are also tinted green (tinted green).

Yotukon's eyes are a deep green (deep green).

Yotukon has facial hair, but it grows only as a thick line straight down from below his lower lip, to another line across his chin, creating a 'T'. He is a stranger to the land of Ardolia apart from people he's met upon arrival. His arrival was a method that he and his friends (AnJelok and LutRlek) have difficulty explaining.

Where he was previously, Yotukon knew the date to have been E1457D208. The means of he and his friends' arrival is confusing to explain, so as well is the world in which he now finds himself.

Yotukon, despite being quite knowledgable and wise, is not quite as intelligent as AnJelok, his senior by nearly a century. He soon discovered, however, that his measurement of time does not coincide with Ardolia's.

In the Village Eternal, where Yotukon has lived for nearly the last seven centuries, he is known as a Jurer /JOO-REHR/; a race capable of magik dealing with all living things. He requires the use of Mana to perform the spells he knows. Ardolia seems not to have the stones from which he could derive this power; where before his land was ripe with them.

The only belonging that Yotukon has managed to bring with him is his weapon: a large bow.

Yotukon's spells deal specifically with attributes of all living things. Spells he knows well are those that can bestow added strength for a time: sight, hearing, and healing ability. Some spells create the same poisons he has encountered in various plants, as well.

Any new plant or animal Yotukon comes into contact with can potentially teach him a new spell.

Two spells that deal more specifically with creatures are Charm and Link:

Charm allows an animal to understand Yotukon's thoughts, giving Yotukon the ability to direct the animal to a particular task.

Link allows Yotukon to understand the animal's perspective, letting him see, hear, feel, taste, or touch what the animal is perceiving. Through an unfortunate incident, Yotukon learned that being Linked can also have it's down side.

Name: Guntram
Race: Human
Age: 23
Height: 6’5’’
Weight: 220 lb.
Hair colour: Black
Eye colour: Brown
Profession: ?
Abilities: None.


Control.

All needed to do or do not things, ability to manipulate, to help and decide. Guntram's main ability.

Homeless kind of person, also the kind of person that lives off the nature, doesn't care about wealth to the point he only works when he really has to.

Long hair - mid back and a clean look are some things that are always in him he dresses a light, small armour under his clothing, he really doesn't to fight but know how to.

When young he trained himself to use any weapon he would like as a hobby, he liked to read, study and build things. He left his home when he was 15 to find that thing, that he needed, not knowing what nor where he was going to find it he decided...... to walk. Now all he does is live as he wants. He faced no trauma when he was young, no darkness wanders in his heart, he does just whatever he wants to do.

For long he walked without knowing where he would go, until he arrived to a wonderful land, he explored all of it and was amazed of all what lived and was built there. after months of wandering through this magic land, he found a town, Cathair Gennan. In its surroundings he decided to settle for a while, he watched andspied for days, until one day. In which he decided to enter the city.

Name: LutRlek /LOOT-r-lek/
Race: Unknown
Age: 715 years by the Eternal calendar
Height: 7'6"
Residence: Cathair Gennan

LutRlek appeared suddenly near the outskirts of the community known as Cathair Gennan. He appeared with two others, both life long friends of his: AnJelok and Yotukon.

LutRle's hair is short and usually disheveled somewhat. His hair is straight black (straight black), but for in sunlight at which time one can see a red shine (red shine).

LutRlek's eyes are a hard red (hard red).

LutRlek has facial hair that covers his chin, thick sideburns and almost a full beard surrounding his mouth. The hair does not grow long, however. His mouth is clearly visible and his face does not appear unkempt.

LutRlek's arrival in Ardolia was by a method he can not explain, as he was not so much involved in the process.

Where he was, previously, LutRlek knew the date to have been E1457D208. He soon discovers this means nothing to the people of Ardolia.

Within the Village Eternal, LutRlek was known as Rior /ree-OR/; the Kind capable only of spells for the self. Most Rior learn many attributes before learning spells, since most of their spells will only enhance the things they can already do physically.

Despite his age, LutRlek still appears as one who is quite young. Many scars are visible on his body—back, torso, arms and legs—numerous of which would seem to have been from life-threatening injury, though he is hindered by none of them. His coverings are minimal, as is also customary for Rior. Only a torn piece of cloth is wrapped around his waist and barely covers him. The primary use of the cloth is that it is sometimes used to carry a small spare blade, though he arrived in Ardolia without one.

LutRlek's primary focus is his weapon, known as Kreged; a blade almost as long as LutRlek is tall. The handle of the weapon is on the inside of a crescent, shielding his hand from the sharp edge of the blade, which sweeps in almost an entire half circle. He uses the weapon mostly for sweeping motions that—due to the specific curvature of the blade and placement of the handle—result in slicing, instead of hacking or slashing.

Rior are so long lived that it gives them the opportunity to master weapon types that others do not have the years to practice. As a result, they become extremely able with the fighting styles they choose. Indeed each individual Rior designs their own weapon and, hence, the style for it.


EDIT: To add the bit about the scars and coverings.

Name: Rain
Race: Human turned immortal
Age: 226 years by his reconning
Height: 6' 3"
Residence: No where, a wonderer

History:

Was once human and lived at an orphanage in the Mount Nezzra. He lived there over 200 years ago.

Although he did not know it he was born out of unison between a half breed wood elf and a dark mage. However, this dark mage had been cast out by the other. Once it was found out what had happened the Dark Mages attacked and killing all but him, for he had already been given to the orphanage.

However, in his 25th year, they found out where he resided, and cursed the inhabitants, changing them so they would become uncontrolable, monsterous creatures and left him dying, to further the torment. On his death bed, a dark winged entity appear and said he would give him immortality to take revenge upon those who killed his family and cursing those he loved, but in exchange he would have to roam the land and take the lives of his fellow orphans.

As he could not bear the thought of his friends taking such hidious forms and killing people, he agreed. The entity, place his hand on him, leaving a mark on his back as proof of his pack with this creature. From that day forward he was immortal and roamed the land killing his friends and their off spring, that would also carry the curse and searching for the dark mages that killed his family.

Appearance:

Tall, slim, long blonde hair. He has deep blue eyes, a peircing in his left ear. He wears what ever suits him, always wearing a hat. Due to his pact, he has extreme strength and considerable speed, but he lost sense of some of his emotions and has a tendency of being captured a lot, not that it bothers him. (he always escapes). He is known for his childish behaviour, but great sense of protecting others.

Name: Haley Shcilet
Age: 16
Race: Fairy/pixie
Weight: 117 lbs
Height: 5'7
Gender: Female (duh)

Discription: Long, brownish hair, down to her lower waist. Pretty pink, green, yellow, and blue sparkly wings. Eyes are pure white. Wears a long white dress..... with pink flowers on it. She wears white gloves that go up to her elbow. (pic in my avatar)

History: Was born a dark fairy, but never turned evil like her parents or sisters. So, at the age of 13, they banished her from their world, to live in the mortal world for her life. She used to be very small, but living in the mortal world for so long has made her grow into an average human's size. Rumors say that the longer she stays among the humans, the more like them she will become until she is just a mortal, but no one really knows for sure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Name: Tessa Shcilet
Age: 15
Race: Dark Fairy/pixie
Weight: 110 lbs
Height: 5'2
Gender: Female

Discription: Long black hair, also down to her lower waist. Very pale skin, with black eyes. Wears a black dress, torn at the bottom, with red lace wrapped around it, and roses on it. Wears red fishnet gloves.

History: Haley's sister, she is a dark fairy. She always knew her sister didn't belong, and always bullied her. Always was evil, and she was the one who banished her sister, and ratted her out to the parents. When her sister began to grow in size, she did also... so whatever physical changes occur on her sister, also occur on her. So, now she wanted to get her sister back from the mortal world, but her sister wouldn't come back. Tessa now hates her sister with a passion and has sworn to get revenge on her however she can.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Name: Brit
Age: unknown
Race: Vampire
Weight: 121 lbs
Height: 6'2
Gender: Male

Discription: Wears long black pants, no shirt. Long black and white streaked hair, down to his waist. His eyes are a mix of green and brown, but change to white when he is hungry. Has a couple scars on his chest, from battle with hunters.

History: Was born with fully mortal parents, no one really knows how he is a vampire from birth, since it really doesn't make any sense. Was able to live a perfectly normal life until the age of 10, when his fangs becaome much more clear, then his parents put him on a ship when he was sleeping, and when he woke up he was in a forest. He made friends with some other vampires he met, and they taught each other how to fight. He then ditched the other vamps and went to a castle, where a human Prince lived, alone with his beautiful girlfriend. He eventually defeated the Prince, after many years of fighting, and took the Princess for his own, until his hunger became too strong to withstand, and he fed on her. He now lives in that castle. With only one servant, named Matt, who is like a brother to him.

Hope that's okay. :)

Ollie O. Oxenfrey
Race: Dwarf
Age: 30
Height: 4'0
Weight: 250lbs without armor 500lbs with armor
Hair: Red
Eye: Green
Profession: Dwarves have jobs?
Weapon: Extremely large battleax
Armor: Double thick full-plate.

History: Like most Dwarves Ollie was born under the mountain. Raised in a normal Dwarf family he rose in the Dwarven ranks to general status. He was stripped of his rank and exiled after a fateful party when he became very drunk and pulled the Dwarf Queens beard. He can no longer come within one hundred feet of the mountain on pain of death. Shortly after his exile he met a giant elf named Thathaniel and became his travelling companion. He was then separated from Thath when Thath failed to show up one day in the forest, Ollie began to travel alone from then on.

Argyros
Race: Human
Age: 17
Height: 6’1’’
Weight: 190 lb.
Hair colour: Black
Eye colour: Brown
Profession: Blacksmith.
S. Abilities: None.

A farm boy.

A blacksmith.

A warrior.

Argyros was only 13, his father thaught him all he could. How to live off the nature, and the art of twisting metal. Horse shoes, claws, pans, swords. He was a happy person. Then his father got ill, no one knew what it was, no doctor could help him, no sorcerer could heal him. All left was an old woman, who told Argyros what he wanted to listen.

There was a cure, something would stop the pain his father felt, but there was also a problem, it would spread quickly and kill all Argyros loved.

But what he needed wouldn't come to him, it had to be found and lost it was.

It was stolen from the place it was created in, unfortunately for all of us, it was lost over and over again

And so, being 13 and following the advice of a fotuneteller he ran, ran away from home to find this "thing" that would heal his father.

For days he walked with no path, until he got to the nearest town, there he decided to search each town, each forst and each valley he could. And so he did, he walked from north to south, from east to west for over three years.

He then layed in a cave, in his 17th birthday, he had lost hope and decided to give up. But that wasn't what destiny wanted of him, the cold wind started blowing, even inside the cave it could be felt. He fell asleep.

At the middle of the night he heard something, a not too familiar sound, something hitting the walls soflty and graceful, but at the same time making a lot of noise in the cave. Argyros stood up and walked to the entrance of the cave, he then saw it.

A paper. An old paper entered the cave and was floating in it, not getting out, not getting through, it was just there, waiting to be taken.

He then took it.

For his surprise it wasn't one of those things that were usually in walls, it was a map. Of a place he hadn't gone to.

Ardolia.

Name: Ravena Taska
Origin: Small house on the outskirts of Gathair Gennan
Sex: F
Race: Half wood elf half human
Age: Human years 19
Height: 5’5”
Weight: 120
Hair: Long, white
Eyes: Steel Gray

Appearance: Her hair is pulled back in a tight brad that starts at her forehead all the way down to her butt. Dark purple long bell sleeved top v neck and also makes an upside-down v from her waist to just below her breasts showing some of her stomach below that she wares a black flowing skirt that has upside-down v cut outs showing an underskirt of dark purple with silver around the hem of both. Around her waist she wares a silver scarf with silver beads that tinkle when she walks. She normally goes barefoot but some times she wares low black lace up boots. Over one shoulder is a bag made of many different colored fabrics and ties with a silver drawstring.

Abilities: Flexible, belly dances, fights with two silver sais, great sight and hearing, also very good at climbing.

History: Ravena was born in a small house that her father owned on the outskirts of Cathair Gennan. Her father was human and from another county altogether but never said where or how he came to be in Ardolia. Her mother was an elf from the Turian Woods. They fell in love after he saved her at the base of Mount Nezzra from a pack of werewolves that were about to clam her for dinner because she wondered too far into there territory. The Elves did not approve of the two so she left the clan and moved into his small house where they were happy for many years with there young daughter.
Ravena never was told much else about her parents than that, but she often looks back to her happy childhood before everything went wrong.
One night when she was about eight, some men dressed in plated armor came to there house speaking a in a strange language that her father knew.
Her father went outside the house to talk to them telling her and her mother to stay in the house. The men killed her father and then came in the house and killed her mother she hid in the cellar and stayed there long after screams had stopped for her mother had told her not to come out.
The next morning she heard footsteps up above her and a group of people calling her name. They found her in the cellar, it was a troop of performers that came through the town every year and always came to her family’s house on there way in, to camp for the night before going into the town the next morning. They were as close as family to her.
They buried her parents and she stayed with them till she was sixteen learning much of there tried they also taught her how to defend herself and performed many things manly dance. When she was older she become there top belly dancer.
When she turned sixteen she left the troop to find out who she was and who killed her parents. As a parting gift the troop presented her with her own silver sais as a parting gift along with there best wishes and love. She still searches performing for her food and board where ever she goes although with all the evil now she can not travel as fare as she used too.

Lukos-Werewolf

Born under the sign of Selene, Lukos was gifted by the Gods with the blood of a wolf. His hair is long and straight, stretching to the middle of his back. Like the fur of his kin, it changes color based on the season from gray to tan, each peppered with black. His eyes are crystal blue and hypnotic, speaking volumes of his accord with nature when gazed upon. Muscular but exceptionally thin, his physique speaks of a life of inconsistant meals and hardship. His only clothing is a pair of ragged brown slacks, held up by a twine rope. His hands are bandaged with white cloth to the elbows, protecting them from the underbrush of the forest.

Cast out by his community at the age of five for his condition, he has lived alone in the wilderness, surviving only by his canid insticts. He lived for a decade and a half by roaming the forests and devouring livestock from whatever communities he happened across, hunted down for his indiscrestions wherever he went. As such, he has developed a brutal ability to fight, and a keen distrust for human kind.

He maintains a grasp of the english language, but often finds himself confused by more eloquent speech. He is, however, able to communicate well enough to survive and uses that ability to his advantage moreso now, often roaming into town and stealing money to buy supplies like weapons and clothing.

His wolf form bares little resemblance to a human, the only defining features that separate it from a wolf are it's ability to stand upright, the length and muscularity of the arms, and the fact that it maintains the extended fingers and thumb of a human being. His size does not increase, and no, his clothing doesn't magically disappear and reappear, either.

--------Notes on Werewolves---------------

Immune to the effects of time once reaching their prime age, they are susceptible only to wounds that damage the brain or heart. Asphyxiation, by hanging, strangulation, or drowning are also effective. Flesh wounds are fleeting, as werewolves flesh regenerates quickly.

Werewolves ARE NOT lycanthropes. Lycanthropy is a psychological condition in which the afflicted THINKS that they are a wolf.

Werewolves are not scavengers. They will only feed on live or very recently dead flesh unless absolutley necessary.

Shifting (Becoming a wolf) can be performed at will, although such lunar events as a full moon will cause the change regardless. While in wolf-form, traces of human intelligence still remain, but the wolf is frenzied and will attack anyone regardless of relationship, especially those foolish enough to run from it.

Name: Kajo
Race: Human
Height: 5’ 5”
Age: 16
Sex: F
Weight: 123 lb.
Hair: Straight dark brown, just passed her shoulder blades
Eyes: cat like, hot pink
Personality/Description: Very emotional and sensitive person. She is open-minded and doesn't want to be a 'typical' woman. She is eager for a life of her own.

History: Kajo was born into a moderately rich family. She lived in a huge white mansion in the middle of town square with her parents, three brothers, one sister, six uncles, nine aunts, and 25 servants and maids that work in the household. Soon after her birth, her parents got a mystery letter saying their child was cursed with darkness and would bring great harm to all.

Just as the letter had said, her dark side would come unexpectedly.

One minute she would be contentedly keeping to herself, and the next she would lash out in a fit of rage. She was violent, reckless, and could prove to be an exceedingly dangerous young lady, although she was often unaware of her actions. Regardless of her best efforts, she could never seem to cure herself of it.

Then one night, at the age of six, she was talking to herself about all the trouble she had caused to her family and friends. An amalgam of emotions running through her mind, the child finally lost herself completely.

The hated in her heart escaped and took a form that would seem impossible for a girl of her age. She butchered nearly everyone in the household, callously butchering men and women alike, her innocent spirit unable to control her own actions.

The nightmarish night ended when, alerted to the commotion by an escaped servant, the local priestess arrived and exorcized the child's demons. Liberated from the evil that had possessed her, the child was left to struggle with remorse for her own actions, left only with her mother and a few scattered servants, wh