Avelard - Fantasy

[Chaotic]

http://www.faded-twilight.rpgpalace.net/Forums/showthread.php?p=331#post331

||Note to the Cast of Avelard;

If too few people join to see to my liking, than cast members will be paired with a pre-made character of my choosing. This is to have adequate numbers of players per party. Either you or I can control this "NPC", if you choose to, state this when I assign the pre-mades, if not, then I will assume it is my responsibility. If you would rather make another character to work with than take one of the other two suggestions, this is also fine. Say so after assignment.

Thanks for your co-operation;

Chaotic||

It may seem a little bit... all over the place. But it's not my fault; I wanted to get as much into each post as possible without breaking up sections. [There's only a 10,000 character post-max.]

POST 1: Back-story, Religions, International Relations, Map
POST 2: Races
POST 3: Classes, Common Mounts of Avelard, Character Sheet ||Cast||

Welcome to the world of Avelard. The world has seen many wars in the past, but has since become relatively peaceful. There have been feuds of course, but nothing to draw anyone’s attention. Recently however, there seems to be more and more disputes between races, and peace is a losing battle.

Last week, around the hour of midnight of the fourth day, across the world, the High Priests from each of the three religions, Lord Vincent Agelmon, of the Church of Mother Gaia, Lord Greck Nurvosa of the Church of Hayden, and Lord Pyrina Maan of the Church of Enduring Flame, each had a dream of their gods.

A cloaked figure of an unknown gender, presumably male for the Enduring Flame and Hayden, and female for Mother Gaia, came to them, and told them the same thing. ‘To achieve bliss my son, you must assimilate the lessers into your ranks. You must remove the other priests, and bring in their followers, meet resistance with death.’

This was surprising to say the least; the gods were regularly peaceful, and understanding of the non-believers. But now, they had turned hostile, forcing play by the other churches, or they would be assimilated. The already troubled state across Avelard has become worse with the angering of the gods, and it will not be long before full blown war breaks loose.

The priests, obviously frightened by the blatancy of their respective gods, told the kings, who dismissed it as foolishness. But already, the churches have begun to tear strong relationships apart. Normally peaceful kingdoms have begun to feud together, and even amongst themselves, this of course, breaking each into armies divided by religion.

Soon, there will be no order but religion, Avelard as its known today will cease to exist, and the War of the Church will begin.

The Myth of Half-Men

There was a battle-hardened warlord who went by the name of Lord Kuishima. He led countless attacks on Elvish territory, and expected the elves to remain neutral. His hopes fell upon deaf ears, as the elves had already join forces with the only other existing races, the humans, and the dwarves.

The battle grounds had been chosen, a small field, surrounded by forest, and divided by a thin, shallow stream. The elves were to engage the enemy from the forests; the dwarves would be waiting in the water, weapons ready and waiting for the order to charge; and the humans would be waiting, like the dwarves, but in the long grass of the fields.

As Lord Kuishima led his troops through the field, the elves opened fire on his troops. The first two minutes of the attack were a mad scramble, arrows flew from archers hidden far up in the trees, and stout dwarves flooded from the shallow stream nearby and took the lives of many. Elven soldiers came running out of the underbrush, weapons swinging madly. But no human charge was made.
The soldiers of Lord Kuishima ran for the cover of the woods, not realizing the uselessness of this act, when suddenly the humans cut them off. There were early cheers of victory as the humans stood, weapons already unsheathed, waiting to taste blood.

As the elves and dwarves gathered round the now-surrounded army, the humans turned on them, slaughtering both races, and leaving the soldiers alone. The dwarves and elves turned against the humans quickly, but without the arrow fire of the elves (who didn’t fire for fear of allied injury) they were quickly overwhelmed.

When all was said and done, the battle over, bodies of Elves, Dwarves, and soldiers dead, (killed by Elven archers after a second retreat) lay scattered everywhere. The gods cursed the humans who’d done such a heinous crime against allies in battle, and this curse, was the creation of the half-bloods.

Religions

The Church of Mother Gaia
Deity; Mother Gaia
High Priest; Lord Vincent Agelmon
Age of Priest; 64, considered moderate age for High Priest
Beliefs; Follows of Gaia believe that everything has a spirit, and is therefore sacred. Followers should always respect, and even worship the earth goddess and her blessings. When the goddess of the earth is angered, storms will start up unexpectedly, eruptions will explode from the depths of the earth, fierce lightning will strike at seemingly random, and heavy rains will make hurricanes seem dry. Most of the elves and nearly all druids worship Gaia.
Cleric Ability; Geomancy

Church of Hayden
Deity; Hayden
High Priest; Lord Greck Nurvosa
Age of Priest: 59, young for a High Priest
Beliefs; Followers of Hayden are entitled ‘Light Goers’ most commonly, as Hayden is in fact god of Light and goodness. His followers believe solely in Hayden, which loosely translates to ‘The Creator’. Light Goers believe that Hayden created Avelard, and is therefore worthy of all, and none are worthy of him. They find that without Hayden, there is no Light, and without Light, there is no hope.
Cleric Ability; Healing, Lightning Magic

The Church of Enduring Flame
Deity; Balkna
High Priest; Pyrina Maan
Age of Priest; 72, considered moderate age for a High Priest
Beliefs; The followers of the Enduring Flame find that Balkna is the best leader by far. They are actually accepting of other people’s religions, which is odd, fore Balkna is the most aggressive of the three gods. Balkna is a great warrior, and was said to have killed the gods of the Ancient Religions in bloody combat. The followers of the Enduring Flame are very physical, and enjoy combat, accepting it as a part of survival.
Cleric Ability; Pyromancy

International Relations

Onocros
Political System – Hierarchy
Ruled By – King Phillip Greybeard [human], known as Ole Greybeard.
Feuds / Warring / Rivalries – Small land disputes with Ramnia in mountain territories.

Ramnia
Political System – Hierarchy
Ruled By – King Kifja Killik [human]
Feuds / Warring / Rivalries – Minor land disputes with Onocros for mountain territories.

Isles of Grorenna
Political System – Hierarchy
Ruled By – Queen Elmindra Grorenna [human]
Feuds / Warring / Rivalries – N/A

Tracna
Political System – Warring Tribes
Ruled By – Yutti [south] vs. Minotaur [north]
Feuds / Warring / Rivalries – Civil War

Southern Panirin
Political System – Hierarchy
Ruled By – High Lord Juilin, High Lady Huja [human]
Feuds / Warring / Rivalries – Warring with Northern Panirin

Northern Panirin
Political System – Anarchy
Ruled By – Various Yutti and Minotaur Tribes, Some Dwarven Tribes.
Feuds / Warring / Rivalries – Warring with Southern Panirin [Barbarian Kingdom / Tribes]

Novaren
Political System – Jungle / Rain Forest: Hierarchy, Desert: Anarchy
Ruled By – The Queen, Shylok [drider]
Feuds / Warring / Rivalries – Warring with Desert [northern] invading parties, planning to invade Grorenna for land

[B]Races

Valdimere – The Valdimere are the lizardmen of Avelard. They stand upright like men, with oddly twisting legs, much like the hind legs of a lizard. They have scaly tails to match the rest of their bodies, and generally have small spike-like horns on their heads, and occasionally under their chins. The Valdimere are excellent mages, as well as quick warriors, preferring small blades of axes or hammers. Their specialties are Necromancy and Shamanism.

Vulpines – The Vulpinians are the foxmen. The have the heads of foxes, and the body of a man. The difference between Vulpines and the rest of the half-men is the ratio of man to animal. Normally the parts are even, and if not, the animal is a little heavier on the scales, but in the instance of the Vulpinians, it is not so. The Vulpines make good warriors, and occasionally are skilled bards. The Vulpinians, like the Valdimere, tend to use smaller bladed weapons.

Driders – The spidermen of Avelard are often times considered weak or feeble, but this is in fact myth. The Driders are often mages yes, but that is because of the talent the race possesses, not physical weakness. There are in fact, many tribes of Drider warriors, who live exiled from the mages. Due to the mage norm they feel uncomfortable in large groups of mages. The driders have the thorax of a spider, as well as the 8 legs of the spiders, and from there on up is human. It is rare that you will see a heavily armored (from waist down) Drider, as it is hard to create and fit armor to a spider’s body design. The driders can’t afford to lose even a single leg, so drider warriors often use poisoned or barbed spears, pikes, etc.

Centaurs – The Centaurs are one of the more ritualistic tribes of Avelard. They believe highly in ritual sacrifices and the like. The centaurs often tattoo or pierce themselves, or even burn scars in designs onto their skin to show kinship and brotherhood. The centaurs have the bodies of horses, only where the head of a horse would be, is a human from the waist up. The centaurs wear heavy steel masks in battle, the masks reveal only their eyes, and it is said in myth that the masked tribesmen have scared away many an army with a single arrow being fired. As the legend inspires, the centaurs are excellent bowmen and rangers, and have an intense knowledge of herb lore.

Minotaurs – The Minotaurs are a brutish race of bullmen that reside in the grassy plains of Avelard. They are bulls in the figure of men, and are the opposite ratio to the vulpines, being mostly animal rather than mostly man. The Minotaurs are intensely powerful, and have little need for assistance in battle. They Minotaurs are often used in the mines of the Dwarves to lug around the heavier ores and debris. The Minotaurs usually fight with larger bladed weapons like axes, or often hammers.

Elves – Elves are one of the three races of old, long before years of rape brought forth the half-men. The elves try to stay to the forests, and when there, in the trees. The elves are tall, slender beings that excel in archery. They have slightly pointed years, and a lifespan just about triple that of a human (around 240 years).

Drow: The Drow are a sub-species of elf. They are much like the elves, but in replace of their love of sun and pale skin, is a deep blue, nearly black shade of skin, and a hatred for bright lights. The Drow are actually better warriors or mages than archers, and most live in underground caves. Many Drow live above ground however.

Dwarves – These short and stout miners occupy the mountains of Avelard and tend to live to the ages around the 160 mark. They are mining for gold, or any other rich ore that will sway power to their favor in the always-changing statistic of life. The dwarves often hire out other, larger races to help in the mines, but the risk is great, and often times, the workers never get a chance to spend their pay. The dwarves, like Minotaurs, often fight with axes or hammers.

Humans – Humans are the staple populace of Avelard. They are moderately talented at most arts, but are usually sub-par in magic use. Though they are capable, most don’t appreciate the challenge. They do, however, make excellent researchers. Humans are the quickest of the true-bloods to die, passing on at the modest age of 80 or so. Humans are capable of the use of any weapons, training pending.

Grouken – The grouken appear nearly human, though they are covered in a thick fur, and on average are slightly larger than a human. The grouken live primarily in wooded areas, though rainforest and swamp land is not unheard of. The grouken are rather primitive, and tend to use guerrilla tactics in their warring times. They hunt, and fight, in small groups of 5 to 10, using primarily stone or wooden weapons, such as spears, clubs, or axes.

Yutti – As their name suggests, the yutti live in the cold, snowy lands of Avelard. Bearing thick white fur, they are the cousins to the warm loving Grouken, though tend to be larger, and more violent. The average size of a yutti is about 8’ tall, and around 350lbs. Due to the primitiveness, and the location of the yutti, they do not use weapons, but rather hand to hand combat, using guerrilla tactics.

Classes / Occupations

Healers

Medic – The medic is a master of herb lore, having studied it the majority of their lives. There tends to be a 1 to 15 ratio of medics in armies these days, as monarchs begin to care more for their soldiers. The medics are unable to use magic, and are poor fighters, using sticks or clubs, but little else.

White Magic User – A user of white magic is a more powerful healer, and can also remove curses and the like. There are fewer mages these recent days, so the ratio is low, but one good healer-mage can do a lot of good. They have no offensive magic, nor are they talented with bladed or clumsy weaponry.


Offensive Magic Users

Illusionist – The illusionist is the master of mind magic. They confuse, and think for their enemies. Scaring them with illusions and nightmares, playing on their fears, tearing their mind apart; it is these skills that make the illusionist the second most feared mage of them all, second to the necromancer of course.

Necromancer – The masters of death and dark. Many live in the shadows of caves or dense forest. Others choose the slums of cities, or the eerie peace of graveyards for their ghastly homes. Fully capable of using daggers, poisons, curses, and of course the death-raising magic which makes them famous, necromancers are well rounded in battle.

Elementalist – Using the powers of fire, water, earth and air, these mages are extremely useful in battle. They also seem to play chemist, as they mix the elements to make even more volatile spells such as lightning. Elementalists, like other mages, are not quite par at weapon combat, and usually only use staves or maces.

Cleric – The cleric is much like a paladin, and being of the gods, though a cleric is more in touch with magic than any blade or weapon. Every cleric has spent countless hours in front of tomes, reading, researching, and nearly as many hours on their knees in prayer. Each cleric receives magic ability from their god, be it pyromancy, healing and lightning magics, or geomancy.

Summoner - The summoner, like other black magic users, prefers to let their ability in magic fight for them. It just so happens that the ability the summoner specializes in, is created other beasts to fight for them; winged gargoyles, gryphons, snakes, and other, dark creatures to name just a few.

Defensive Magic Users

Exorcist – The exorcist uses mainly protection spells, auras, wards, and the like. They are also in control of exercising evil spirits, though a proper exorcism hasn’t been needed since the fall of the Dark Prince, nearly fifteen hundred years ago.

Warriors

Warrior – A warrior is the basis of all melee combat. They are moderately good with every weapon, but not particularly talented with any.

Swordsman – A swordsman is a person who has trained their entire life with the sword, and knows no other weapon. They are extremely talented, if only with one variety of blade.

*Note* -- To be master of a different weapon, simply change the word from ‘sword’ to ‘axe’ for example.

Berserk – The berserk is the head honcho of the blade fight scene. This class uses supreme power, and knowledge of their weapon to be victorious. When no weapon is around they will use their fists, a stick, a rock, anything.

Paladin –The paladin is a man of god, fighting for the truth and enlightenment only their god can provide. Many paladins wear heavy steel armour over their chain mail. The majority of paladins fight with a sword and shield, from the back of a battle- tested mount.

Monk – Monks live a shallow life, seeking knowledge, living with others who share the same beliefs as they do. Monks are, for the most part anyway, masters of the martial arts, excelling in either unarmed combat, or combat with a simple weapon, such as a staff.

Other Classes

Druid – The druid is a man of the woods. Quite literally one with nature, these folk tend to spend the majority of their time alone in the woods, or with their packs. Most druids have a ‘pet’ which they understand. For many druids, it’s the wolf, though those of bear, birds, rats, cats, and others are known.

Wyrm Ryders -- The Ryders of Wyrm are nearly myth, these legendary warriors, usually armed with spear, though sometimes using axes, clubs, hammers, even swords, ride the back of their ancient dragon allies. They are renowned for being honorable, and trustworthy, though they too have their enemies.

Dragon Knight – The Dragon Knights are a group of people who hate the Wyrms, and their Ryders. In fact, this hate grows nearly to state of war. They too, use the spear, axe, hammer, sword, etc, though they also wear black armor when in flight, and their means of transportation is not an elder dragon, but a large, leathery bird, with a razor sharp beak, pronged with a violent hook. The Faulkna may not be as powerful as the Wyrms, but they are more maneuverable.

Bard – Story tellers, musicians, magicians, tumblers, performers of all kinds claim the title of bard. Bards are often talented at many of the above listed feats, but often specialize in one. A bard is welcome in any common room, and is always ready to perform – for a price.

Thief – Thieves don’t have to look to find work, work finds them. More or less the most dishonest type of person in all of Avelard, the thief is excellent at gambling, find himself at home at a game of cards, or dice, and when that doesn’t work, the thief will resort to less appreciated terms of engagement. Stealing, murdering, plundering, all a days work.

Assassin – Next in line on Avelard’s hate list, the assassin is sly, cunning, mysterious, and everything else society frowns upon. Making a living through one man’s hate for another, all it takes is a knife in the back, or a mysterious powder in the drink of another. The assassin excels in poisons and venoms, as well as small blades such as a dagger, knife, kris, or even a short sword.

Researcher - Researchers, much like monks, spend countless hours in front of tomes, scrolls, and hieroglyphs, attempting to harness the great powers left behind in the technology of the builders, and ancient race of great knowledge and magical ability.

Common Mounts and Animals of Avelard

Grolgass: The grolgass live in the woodland and grassland areas of Avelard, there are slightly larger than a horse, though are bug-like in body structure. The have large mandible pinchers, like other bugs, and some can spew forth a powerful acid which is best used in combat. The grolgass have a set of 4 wings which is hidden under a thick layer of exoskeleton, and power front arms, which are short, and tipped with powerful pinchers.

Amere: The amere are used by common travelers and warriors alike, in mountainous, tundra, and ice like areas. Amere are more or less a large cat, though they have no tails, and are much, much large. A large man is not suited for travel by amere, as they are slow to the ground, standing a mere 4’6’’ from ground to back, there aren’t pack horses either, as they are meant to be used as quick mounts, not cargo pullers.

Wurang: The wurang are much like wolves, though they are about the same size as a small horse.They have longer fur, ranging from brown to grey to black, and tend to live in the colder areas of Avelard, they are the natural predator of the amere, and a single wurang can hunt and kill 4 amere weekly; luckily the amere are smaller, and more nimble.

Gilkan: The gilkan are lizards which can very greatly in size, most of which is evident of age, a young gilkan (2-10 years) can be anywhere from 5’ to 7’ tall, whereas an older gilkan can be upwards of 10’ tall. They have thick scales, and though they move slowly, offer much protection in the heat of the desert. Larger gilkan have fans at the base of their necks large enough that the majority of the rider’s body can be hidden from sunlight.

Dragons and Wyrms: Of course, there are dragons in Avelard, as there are their older counterparts, the wyrms. The dragons which can live anywhere in Avelard can fly, and occasionally breathe fire, though the dragon must be pure bred. Many dragons lose the ability to breathe fire once they’ve become tame for riding purposes. Wyrms too are found anywhere, though there are rarely any untamed Wyrms to be seen; though it is rumored many old species still thrive on a hidden island somewhere.

Faulkna: The birds that share the skies with dragons. The faulkna are ridden by the Dragon Knights who unlike their name suggests, actually hunt dragons for their teeth, horns, and the fact that they’re simply a menace. The faulkna are primarily blue in colour, with two sets of leathery wings. They have long, pointed beaks, the top of which is barbed downward.

Note: Normal animals also exist, for example, horses, dogs, cats, etc.


Character Sheet

Name:
Age:
Race:
Religion:
Class:
Weapon(s) of Choice:
Personal Appearance:
Clothing:
Personality:
History:


Cast
Chaotic - Sandar Greybeard; Andru Lyllyk
Reaper - Cyster Higgins; Tomas Reider
Deviant - Isair Vreham
Kei - Saerileth Da’Nilaere
Vengeance - Pending
Darkstar - Pending
Kendrick - Gadrelle Siereem
Asmodeus - Caelemar Lyathinar Que'Sollianothi

NPCs
Aasim Joiyar - Story Driven
General Wilhelm Gumbolputty - Deviant/Kendrick
Krystian Villanor - Asmodeus
Gulbim Stonesledge - Story Driven
Alken Zam'br'gun - Darkstar

[Reaper]

Name: Cyster Higgins

Age: 31

Race: Human

Religion: Mother Gaia

Class: Elementalist

Weapon of Choice: A small dagger carried in the sleeve of his robe.

Personal Appearance: Cyster is rather tall, standing at 6'2" and has a thinner build. He only weighs in at about 160lbs, and because of this it makes some people underestimate him. He has lightly tanned skin, and black hair that falls to his lower back and is pulled back into a ponytail. His most noticeable feature is his eyes, he has yellow eyes that look like they can see right through you.

Clothing: Cyster wears a seemingly plain, light brown robe over black travel pants and a white, button up shirt. His robe may look rather plain, buts its true colors shine when he is using his magic, and the robe illuminates towards the color of the element he is currently using. Another note worthy item on him is a silver chain that he doesn't wear around his neck, but instead has wrapped around his left arm. No matter how much he moves around, the chain never budges as if it's held there by magic, and he touches it when he's worried.

Personality: Cyster is a friendly and active person. He doesn't like to sit around and read to research his spells, instead he would rather experiment with his natural talent to discover shorter and more powerful spells. This usually causes a bit of trouble when he uses more energy then he wanted to, when the spell back fires and ends up igniting a tree or shaking up a nearby village.

History: Cyster was born in a small village where he helped his family tend to fields and take care of the livestock. Growing up there for him was fun, as he would do his chores, eat his meals and retreat into his own magical world, where he was king to dozens of magical creatures and he was a powerful wizard to boot. When he turned twelve, three men appeared at his doorstep claiming that Cyster had the gift of magic and if he wasn't trained properly he could unintentionally kill off everyone. His father didn't believe them and booted them off his land, but sure enough a year later a powerful earthquake struck the house when Cyster had a terrible headache.

A few days after the earthquake the three men returned once more, this time Cyster went back with them to a small temple in the middle of the forest. There he met other children his age who had the magic gift like him. For the next three years, all Cyster learned to do was to suppress the magic, and not be able to use it. This annoyed Cyster, because he saw it as his gift and he should have the right to use it. The teachers said that he must wait for those three years, to see if he truly wants the power. After the three years had passed anyone who wanted to go home wouldn't be able to use magic anymore, and thats why they were taught to suppress the magic. When everyone heard that, only three students were left, one of which was Cyster.

Over the course of a few years, Cyster had began his magic training. He first learned the basics of the four elements. He learned how to light torches, and move fire with his hands. He learned how to send a small wave of water forward, and how to part rivers. He learned how to take the air from something, and suffocate them, and he learned how to rattle the ground to make things drop and smash. Cyster unlike the other two students, took on his students with a passion.

After his basic training was done, he took up the more advanced studies, like mixing the elements to make other elements. He started off by learning how to mix fire and wind to make lightning, he then moved up to wind and water to make ice, and then even as far as fire and earth to make explosions. His favorite element he had yet to learn, and wouldn't come for many years and involved mixing earth and water to create a magical energy similar to those used by Geomancers.

After his advanced training was finished, he was released from the Training Facility and he was now in hid mid-twenties. He returned to his home, and only found graves. It seemed that mere days after he left bandits came to his house and slaughtered everything, and someone was nice enough to bury the dead. The house was half ruins, and the only part that still stood was the kitchen. Exploring the ruins, he found a sealed chest that his father kept with from his youth. The only problem was that the seal was broken, and the contents were stolen. Cyster remembered what was in the chest from his childhood, it was a silver chain that protected his father from danger.

Cyster went out on a journey to find the chain. He explored mountains, forests and even the bottom of lakes to find the chain and eventually in his late twenties he found it in an Auction House. No one seemed to want it because it just looked like a worn old chain, but Cyster knew what it truly was. He purchased it, and it quickly binded onto his arm, it obviously recognized him. Having just finished his little adventure, Cyster bought a small house in the country where he began to study and practice more elemental spells, with the goal of being the most powerful Elementalist to ever exist in the back of his mind.

[Chaotic]

Name: Sandar
Alias: Tullok Tale'he
Age: 24
Race: Human
Religion: Enduring Flame
Class: Druid

Weapon(s) of Choice: A spear, plain wood for a handle, about 5’ long, with a 6’’ blade, a horn bow, a well-worn short sword, there are many nicks along the edges of the blade.

Personal Appearance: Sandar is not tall by any means, nor is he overly muscular, he relies on his speed. Standing at about 5’8’’ and weighing only 160lbs, Sandar is a rather attractive person. He has a medium build, muscular, but not overly so. He has black hair that lay on top of his head in a large tattered mess, and hangs to his eyebrows. His eyes, once green, have been a hue of gold for the last six years. He has dark stubble covering his jaw line.

Clothing: Sandar wears thick black pants, and a heavy black shirt. There are three belts around his waist, all black, and made of thick, heavy leather. One going straight across and two in an x pattern across his hips. The straight belt holds his pants; his quiver is on his right hip, his sword on his left. Sandar also has a cloak and a skirt of dried grasses for camouflage purposes.

Personality: Sandar is, simply put, paranoid to an extreme. While he remains in Onocros, he will trust no one, as he fears they are sent by his father to bring him back. He is, once you’ve earned his trust, a nice man, however. He’s gruff, and obviously a rough man, but not unfair, and not overly rude, purposely.

History: Sandar was born on a fine spring day, to a family of royal blood, sadly, his mother died while giving birth. Because of this, Sandar was raised by his father, Nicholas Greybeard, until he was nearly two, and his father died to an illness. The only other family for Sandar, was his uncle, and at this time, and currently, the King of Onocros, Phillip Greybeard.

Being raised by Ole Greybeard proved to be better than one would guess. He learned how to rule a nation at an early age. Sandar also learned to read and write quickly, through the help of people in high places. He also got private lessons in the sword, and has his own section of courtyard for his personal archery range, another ability he excelled in.

Around the age of fourteen, Sandar began to hear voices. These voices were usually found only in dreams, or when he was walking alone through the King’s zoo, a large courtyard filled with animals not known to the desert of Onocros. Among these were wolves, a common animal to Oncoros’ grassland and woodlot areas, but obviously unheard of in the desert. The voices were frightening at first, but what was more frightening was Phillip’s reaction.

Late one night, screams were heard from Sandar’s rooms, all coming from the ruler of Onocros. “You’re just like you’re father! A freak!” and they carried on, repetitious and stinging like a whip’s crack for hours.

The next morning, a very somber Sandar walked around the zoo nearly all day, and went to bed without eating. After another day of this, Phillip went to his rooms. The third day, the boy ate, but not joyfully. After a few months though, Sandar’s appetite returned, and then it was as though nothing had ever happened.

Shortly before Sandar’s 20th birthday, Sandar was brought to his adopted father’s home by a pair of guardsmen. During a parade celebrating the return of a local hero, it seems the boy had noticed a pelt on the man’s pommel, and a skull rattling behind his saddle. The site of a dead wolf threw Sandar - who’d learned by now that the voices were, in fact, the wolves speaking to him, and had undergone a change in appearance, his eyes changing to the golden hue appearing only before in the eyes of dogs- into a fit of rage. Sandar threw himself at the man on horse back from where he was seated on a Royal viewing balcony.

Phillip was told that his son was to be charged with murder unless pardoned by him himself. Ole Greybeard refused, and stripped the name of Greybeard from Sandar on the spot, and would have him whipped raw, then banished him from the city, choosing to instead let him fend for himself in the wild.

The next morning, Phillip had four armed guards sent to Sandar’s rooms to see to his punishment, but he was gone. There was no note. Later than evening, it was realized that there was a missing animal from the King’s zoo, a wolf pup that’d yet to be named.

For the past four years, Sandar’s been avoiding the patrols sent into the woods by Phillip to search for him. Though Sandar no longer fears the pain of the whipping, it is an act of spite, a last defiance to the family who left him behind. He has since taken the last name Tale'he, meaning ‘Dog’ in the wolven tongue, and uses Tullok, as an alias.

Phillip announced Sandar as legally dead two months after his departure.


‘Druidic Pet’
Name: Echo
Species: Wolf
Age: 4
Personal Appearance: Echo’s back is 24’’ off the ground, or about knee height, his head comes slightly higher, about 30’’ or so. His fur is thick, and a mix of dark grey and a brownish-tan.

[Reaper]

Second Character :P

Name: Tomas Reider

Age: 26

Race: Human

Religion: Enduring Flame

Class: Necromancer

Weapon of Choice: Bone Scythe

Personal Appearance: Tomas is of average height, coming to 5'10" and has fair skin, which is odd for a Necromancer. His hair is a platnium blonde, and falls to his mid back section, and is almsot always neatly brushed. Almost everyone sees him as a handsome young man, with perfect facial features, and a well toned body. The only thing people may find odd about him is his red eyes, which are very rarely seen. Tomas also doesn't believe in a 'gruff' and is always neatly shaven.

Clothing: Tomas wears a pure black coat that comes to the back of his knees, underneath his coat, he wears a noble looking shirt. He also wears respectable looking pants, which aren't dirtied or even torn. His poots are polished, and his gloves, which are white, don't have any stains on them. Around his neck he wears a crimson cross with a skull shaped jewel in the center of it. The only oddity that he wears, is a black bandanna that covers his eyes.

Personality: Tomas is a friendly young man, and a respectable gentleman. He always helps out the ladies when they're in need, no matter how important the situation is. He also belives in lending other travelers a helping hand. When he is on the battlefield, Tomas is like another man. His eyes go wild for blood, and he has a maniacal laugh and doesn't hesitate to use his dark magic.

History: Tomas was born into a noble family from Onocros. When he was merely three, he was abandoned at a church by his family, and the church was given no reason why and simply tossed him into a nearby orphanage. Everything was fine until Tomas' fourth birthday, while everyone was sleeping at night Tomas wandered outside where he was attacked by a wolf. Everyone woke up to hear the cries, and when they went outside, they saw the skeleton of the wolf, stained with its vessels blood, sniffing Tomas. The cries they heard was from the wolf as it's flesh was peeled off its bones.

The church immediatly suspected that Tomas had the potential as a Necromancer and sent him off to meet with another Necromancer in a nearby village. Tomas was then dropped off at the door of Sir Alucard the Bloody to train as a Necromancer, but because of his young age, he had no will or desire to do so. So instead, the Necromancer spent the next six years raising him as his own son. When Tomas was of the proper age, his power as a Necromancer suprised Alucard greatly, as Tomas was able to do some things that even the mighiest of Necromancer's couldn't do. Eventually, after a few months of training Tomas learned how to control his powers better, and even built himself his own personal Bone Scythe that he merely pulls out of the ground when he needs it.

As the years went on Tomas got sick of himself looking like a commoner that never sees the sun. He told Alucard he was leaving to see the world, and make himself well known. Alucard at first tried to stop him, but in the end he let Tomas go. Tomas roamed the country side for a bit, he met a few people here and there, made some friends, and started to regain his colour. After a bit of wandering, he came across a small keep of soldiers. The soldiers, were rather bored and when they discovered he was a Necromancer tried to catch him to use him as a weapon against their enemies.

Tomas didn't like that idea very much, and every soldier that came near him, had their bone structure climb out of their body and turn on their former comrades. After the short battle, Tomas sent the remaining soldiers free to run in the country and claimed the keep as his own mansion. Inside he found clothing, weapons, money, food, and water. He truly felt like a Lord, and with his army and servants of the undead, he started to raid small villages around just to make himself happy.

[Deviant]

Would've been up a bit earlier but for some strange reason my password seemed to have changed.



Name: Isair Vreham

Age: 23

Race: Human

Religion: None

Class: Swordsman

Weapon(s) of Choice: Isair carries twin cutlasses as his main armament; each one rests in a red leather scabbard, trimmed with brass, on either side of his hips. The weapons themselves have broad, slightly curved blades no more than two feet in length, robust and well polished, with brass basket hilts. The hand guards are unusual, however, for the row of talon-like spikes that adorn their exterior, making the swords deadly weapons in both slashing as well as punching with the hilts.

Besides these two weapons, Isair keeps a long, slender dirk alongside his right boot, the oak grip flat-pommeled and engraved with minimal, curving patterns.


Personal Appearance: Without having ever met Isair, one could easily mark him as a devilish sort. His face is slender and sharp-featured, with a slightly aquiline nose and pointed chin giving him a cast reminiscent of Italian theatre. His eyes are bright and green, seeming to gleam perpetually while retaining a quality of depth, while the two thin eyebrows and gently sloping forehead above counter the intensity of Isair’s gaze. His hair is auburn, and cut within a quarter inch of his scalp, except for an oval patch atop his head: the hair of this patch is easily half a foot in length, and split to run front and back creating a sort of mohawk. His figure is that of an agile athlete, weighing in at about 160 pounds with a height slightly above 6 feet.


Clothing: For armour, Isair wears a chainmail hauberk with tight studded leather pauldrons, the mail sleeves terminating just above his elbows. Leather bracers, studded in a similar fashion to the pauldrons, protect his forearms, and greaves of brigandine construction, with thin steel plates riveted to the leather, are attached to Isair’s heavy black jackboots. Under this outfit, Isair wears a simple brown doublet, and close-fitting black breeches, and over top the entire suit of armour, he bears a rich crimson cloak.


Personality: Already explained to Chaotic, who waived the requirement: to sum it up, however, Isair is charming, manipulative, and hedonistic with a touch of paranoia: his sole redeeming quality is the importance he places upon personal freedom for all people.


History: One may think that Isair’s childhood was to blame for his nature; that he had acquired his manipulative nature in order to survive, conning people on the streets to feed him or something similar. That notion isn’t entirely wrong, really, but it’s immensely backwards and the simple fact that one would believe Isair’s behaviour wasn’t his fault is a testament to his adeptness at fooling others. He was born selfish, and also born the only son of banker and housewife in Onocros; his two siblings were both girls, and were born later than he was. Isair learned early in life that between a repenting pout and an infectious smile, he could more often than not play his family like puppets, pulling their strings to get his way, whether through persuasive begging, false humility, or flattery. With parents who had a more than modest income and were more than willing to spend it to his benefit, as well as a pair of young sisters that maintained a sort of idolatry of Isair that inspired servitude, the boy had acquired a pronounced taste for luxury and enjoyment by the time he had entered his teenage years.

As Isair aged, his hedonistic tendencies drove him to explore other sources of amusement: boredom was an implacable foe, requiring perpetual efforts to keep at bay. When his father began to take him aside to teach the young man, Isair found that he needed to start making the most out of his spare time, making up for hours lost to mathematics and rhetoric with more intense or lasting sources of amusement; while not to say that he found the science of numbers, or words, an utter chore, they didn’t hold his interest quite to the extent that games of one sort or another did, perhaps because he found both disciplines fairly easy. It was in the course of experimentation, in search of more intense experiences, that Isair found his Holy Trinity, though there was little about the three that could be considered sacrosanct by the standards of majority.

First acquired was a taste for women: with a silver-tongue, a bright smile on his face, and a body made muscular by athletics (rather than any sort of manual labour), Isair found that all it took was a little time to get to know a girl before he knew what she wanted to hear, what he was supposed to do and when, and most importantly to him, whether or not an opportunity for some fun would be presented quickly enough for his liking (though with more intelligent girls, he often found that conversation alone was quite stimulating). The latter was greatly aided by his second love in life: alcohol. The euphoria that half a dozen beers induced was delightful, even though too much drink sometimes exacerbated two of Isair’s problems: along with his sometimes dangerous tendency to brawl, strands of paranoia wove tapestries of distrust in his mind. Moderated amounts of alcohol, however, brought solely relaxation without any accompanying fights that resulted in bruises and bitterness. The lack of inhibitions that accompanied it was certainly a bonus, too; more than one slender hand had loosened Isair’s belt with a drunken lack of coordination.

Isair’s parents did not share his nonchalant attitude towards inebriation and promiscuity, however. Rather than dole out harsh punishment, however, they instead became convinced that it was through their own fault that this had happened; that they had not offered their son enough outlets and activities that would prove productive. At Isair’s own suggestion, they purchased him a side-sword and had him trained in its usage, hoping that learning a combat discipline would do just that: discipline the young man. It seemed to be effective, but it was mainly because Isair enjoyed fighting enough that it occupied a great deal of his time. Initially, he followed his lessons, but as time progressed and he mastered the basics, dissatisfaction began to set in. When he had learned to use the sword sufficiently, by the age of 18, Isair found a job: he began working as a doorman at a nearby tavern after having summarily ejected a drunkard that had come on to a woman that Isair himself was conversing with at the time.

Besides having the muscle to deal with typical patrons, Isair’s talent with words ensured that he was well-paid. Thus, after a couple of months, he had accrued enough money to purchase a pair of identical cutlasses, with wickedly spiked hilts. He continued to bounce with his single side-sword for nearly half a year more before he had practiced enough with the new blades that he could wield one in each hand dexterously and expertly. After the first brazen bastard lost half his face to a simple punch with the hilt of one of Isair’s blades, though, it became apparent that the combination of intimidation and skill were worth the work. When it attracted the attention of customers that offered other employment opportunities, however, the endeavour paid off. Literally.

At first, the occasional patron would offer Isair a substantial payment to resolve a ‘problem’, no questions asked: more often than not, this problem was a person, whom he would have words with, though some of his words left their receivers bloody and mewling in pain. As time went on, Isair developed a reputation as an independent mercenary, performing any job at his discretion: rectifying disputes, providing security, recovering various belongings, hunting down known criminals, so on and so forth. He ate well and drank enough to fill a well, and more often than not slept well with a woman he had met the night before sharing the bed. And always, despite appearing that his very job was to do what others wanted, Isair bent his life and the lives of those around him to meet his whims without anyone realizing it until after the fact.

[Kendrick]

This good enough Crys???

-----

Name: Gadrelle Siereem

Age: 20

Race: Human

Religion: Hayden, though is hazy

Class: Bard

Weapon(s) of Choice:

Bō Staff – six feet long in length, heavy wood finish with minor engravings to add detail. Usually used for defense more then offensive, and has this one on her at all times.
Quarterstaff – 6.5 foot long Hazel wood staff, that is collapsible (it is designed in a way so it may be taken down into three parts). Designed softly to add an elegant look to it, approx each third in the length of the staff together has a gold ring around it (so there are two). These two rings hold as a protection to where the staff snaps in place. Used for offensive.
Music – So despite that this is a hobby, Gadrelle tends to use this in battle, hoping to ease the worry or killing spree. With violin at hand, she will try to play a slow, soothing song.
Acting – Just for a chance on manipulating the other’s mind so she could get out of things unharmed.


Personal Appearance: Standing near 5’ 3” and weighing around 130 pounds, Gadrelle has literally low, if what seems to be none, body fat and can tend to fit in places most people thought she couldn’t, though she does have the normal curve figure. It helps a lot with her skinny appearance, as she is very flexible; thanks to her training and discipline she’s received over the years. Her body, however, is rather strong compared to what another would see to her. Lightly shaded soft hair of a strawberry red color reaching below her shoulders with blonde highlights, her eyes is a pure light blue shade that holds a calm look in them. Generally, by first glance, she looks as if she hasn’t done much with herself in terms of being fit, but most will be very surprised. It’s very common to see her with her violin at hand, because it’s one of few things that she was able to pack away, and her staff as well. Also, she carries a leather back pack, which is stuffed with items she needs (from clothes to survival) due to traveling.

Clothing: Her clothing purely depends on what she is doing, or even where she’s at and who she’s with. Aside from the few listed sets below, there still are plenty more clothing sets Gadrelle holds. I mean, after all, she is a performer of the sorts. Despite her many unique styles, she does manage to have only two pairs of shoes: a pair of light dark leather covered performance shoes, and what seems to be light combat boots. How she manages so much clothing in a single bag bewilders most, but she has the ability. These are just the common things you will possibly see her in:

Typical Traveling Clothing (generally her normal fighting clothing as well): Pair of dark light weight pants, easy for movement that she needs. Rather medium weight dark leather harness with a slightly tight long sleeve medium green shirt. She wears fingerless brown gloves to give a better grip onto her staff, and generally has her hair up in a ponytail. She wears no rings or bracelets in this outfit, only a small silver necklace with nothing more then a small dark orb as the pendant. The heavier set of shoes is normally worn in this.
Musical Performance Attire (used mainly when performing music): Navy blue, long frilled skirt, with a lighter blue colored cloth shirt that fits just right. The shirt buttons in the front with small diamond shaped sapphires from the top center of the collar, down to the right side of the shirt, gradually curving to give a formal look. The shirt technically has no sleeves, but it does cover her shoulders. Occasionally, depending on the situation, she will wear a small cloak, or even a shawl of the same blue as her skirt. With this set, she wears her light leather shoes and mostly silver jewelry of many sorts: rings, bracelets, headdress of some sort, and necklaces.
Theatre Performance (general on stage performances other than music): Light grey robe, long sleeved, over a black tank top and black slacks, and has a gypsy like belt to match. Full glove pair that is black, but only go up to the end of her hand. She wears her performance shoes in this outfit, and also wears whatever jewelry that won’t fall off during her performance (as she occasionally jumps depending on the show). She wears a white headband that has many random language markings upon it in a black/mild grey thread color. Generally, her violin is with her as well. Across the bottom of her robe, little jewels are connected by small chains to give a fashionable look.


Personality: Besides being very agile and quick, physically and mentally, Gadrelle holds many secrets one has yet to know. Due to being a performer, she is mostly able to start something from the top of her mind without much worry of how others think of her (and can be a rather funny comedian); however, it doesn’t mean at all that she prefers this. She is able to get along with most, unless you absolutely find a way to piss her off. From there, it’s your best bet to just leave her. Gadrelle is often a drifter; she does travel from place to place, and doesn’t have very many friends. In fact, she only has two currently – though this doesn’t mean she’s not a friendly person to be with. Her passion is to perform and play music, so often times you will see her performing a piece of music randomly with an instrument. To be straight forward, unless you’re close with her, you won’t get much information about her; she prefers to limit herself around people. She is courteous especially to small children, where she would occasionally give some of her tips to if they stay and watch her performances outdoors.

Brief Summary of Present Time: Gadrelle is currently a traveling performer, who normally performs for tips unless a big auditorium hires her for a night. Her knowledge of languages is very broad, and she can pick up accents for each well (Well, for traveling performances, you do need to know and become familiar with other languages). Gadrelle is a wonderful musician, and a talented young actor. Her strength with her abilities happens to be story telling which tends to conflict with her religion. Because what she talks about is strictly against it, which is a reason she doesn’t hold a full belief to it.

History: Gadrelle was raised in a big city, though she doesn’t hold and expect to earn much due to her family’s living expenses. She lived with both parents and two older siblings, a brother and a step-sister, before beginning her travels alone. Her mother, Xyan Kirak, had worked two jobs simultaneously for most of Gadrelle’s life at home: a mercenary gypsy and a bartender; occasionally both jobs managed to merge together. Although the husband, Alfred Siereem, never did approve of this, it was money coming into the household, and that was something he had to deal with.

What was rather out of the ordinary, at least for most 3 children a family, Gadrelle’s parents never actually did get married. Alfred is, however, responsible for the birth of Gadrelle and her brother. He does love Xyan, its just he wasn’t ready for commitment, but he did promise to be there for the raising of Gadrelle and her brother, Cyris. The father of the older step-sister was never mentioned by Xyan, and no one bothered to ask about it.

Gadrelle’s father worked as a magician for royalty entertainment, and often would miss most of the days in the week performing. His career paid a lot of influence into the young girl’s mind as she grew up. Despite a busy schedule, the family did find time to spend together.

Gadrelle didn’t really get along with other kids her age around her. Well, she did, but didn’t at the same time. Her mind wasn’t fully interested into having a social life like her siblings did, but she did manage a few good friends here and there. Between school and family outings, Gadrelle often spent her time creating and performing music and stories.

While young, Alfred would group his own blooded children together, frequently including the step child as well, and perform for them his own magic tricks. This was done especially while the mother was out of town, to gain bonding time that he wouldn’t normally get when she was at home. Gadrelle held her interests, even through the unintended accidents of fire tricks, electrical tricks, etc, which her father picked up fairly quickly as she was always the one who wanted to be the “helper” in his tricks. Since then, he has aided her in schooling for performance.

At the age of fifteen, Gadrelle went with her father and siblings to a royal entertainment show that her father was presenting to the king. However, this happened to be one of the worse performances made by her father, yet the best apparently to the king. During a trick that involved fire, Alfred’s attention was distracted by Cyris and the step-sister’s small verbal fight. His mind slipped from concentration on his actions, and it wasn’t long before the step-sister died from severe burns and lack of medical attention. Unsure of what to do then, Alfred feared the rage of Xyan when she would return home, and never did forgive himself on this incident.

Two days later, Xyan and Alfred called for a ‘divorce’ and both Gadrelle and Cyris were forced to split apart.

Because of her mind with performing, Gadrelle left with her father, while Cyris stayed with Xyan and learned for his career in bartending. Alfred worked days in and out, with the aid of Gadrelle for more money, in performances to begin to enroll his daughter into an academy school for performing arts and discipline, in which she learned defenses and fighting.

Coming to the age of nineteen, Gadrelle began life on her own and traveled. No one is able to depict why she left, because she did love her father very much, but all is known that she started to wonder her own route into life.

She was a full believer in Hayden when she was younger, but now she isn’t so much as she use to be. Because of the religion being strictly within the book and preaches, it was hard for her to be a story teller when everything she would create for audiences was, in fact, against her religion. Her mind slowly sides away from it now. Gadrelle’s feelings for a free mind are more important for her then the cage of a religion. She should be able to hold a free mind to entertain, right? Then why need a leash on herself.

To most that actually do get to know her, her life still is seen as a mystery, and not one person had managed to get the full story of her yet.

[Asmodeus]

Name: Caelemar Lyathinar Que'Sollianothi
Age: 49
Race: Elf, Wilder Tribe of Dalanost
Religion: Mother Gaia
Class: Thief / Druid
Weapon(s) of Choice:
Caelemar carries a number of weapons on his person, more than expected in his line work. Being more of a raider, and less of a straight thief, Caelemar likes to find himself with a weapon on-hand at all times. As such, he carries a Machete with elven writing across the blade, being a war song, or oath of some kind, as well as a stiletto fit snugly up inside of his sleeve with a simple binding around his wrist, and his finger, allowing him to pull the dagger free, and into his hand when needed.

Along his right leg are ten small push daggers, evenly balanced and weighted for throwing. While they make excellent close combat weapons, he much prefers using them as ranged weapons, so that he can keep a distance between himself and his opponents.

Personal Appearance:
Caelemar, as a member of the wilder elves, as opposed to those of society, is more heavily built, with a greater degree of muscle, than his civilized cousins. He stands at 6'3", weighing 194lbs. His hair is just as wild as his nature, being long, and uncut, falling just past his mid-back, with shorter, knife-cut bangs in his eyes and to his long, pointed ears. Just in front of his ears falls a tied strand of hair, bound by hand-made rope.

Being a raider has caused many sufferings, however, for Caelemar. His body is scarred. From the severe whip lashings across his back, to the scarring from blades across the right of his chest. His face is scarred with 3 slashes across his cheek, to chin, diagonally, with the longest (and last) scar crossing over his mouth. War brandings, he calls them, having only taken the facial scarring as a marking to match his mount. He does not believe in a healer, that if a warrior should die, that it was his time to go, as Balkna saw fit. And as such, carries many grave wounds. Any time he has been healed, it has been through salves, and tonics, not through 'witchcraft' as he's seen it, and every time they have left visible scarring, to wear proudly, to show that he has escaped death again.

As well, Caelemar beleives in tattoos, and war marking. As such he has markings under his eyes, of a double triangle (a single black triangle outlined by a second black line with a 1/16th of an inch between them). On each shoulder he wears an elven rune, one for 'Outcast', the second for 'Wolfen', surrounded by a circle with runes inscribed with Dalanost rider sayings, from his days where he remained as Beta of the Dalanost Tribe-Pack.

Clothing:
Caelemar is dressed as a raider should; he wears a tight fitting padded shirt, with long, flowing sleeves, ample with space for hiding objects, with a harness across his shoulders and chest fit to carry a larger blade on his back. The padded shirt is slightly treated, to give it a harder exterior, and provide more protection against slashing attacks. Around his waist is a furred belt, with a sheath at the back for his machete, and two hangers off either side of his hips, for decoration.

He wears light leather pants, with the furring around the base of the leg, and wears a pouch, holding the staff, strapped to his left leg, and a number of knife sheaths on his right, holding his throwing knives.

His boots are soft enough for travel by foot, but strong enough to withstand combat, movement and riding. Over his right hand is a padded, fingerless glove, extending halfway up his arm, with the strapping for his stiletto run into the glove.

Personality:
Caelemar's exterior seems off putting at times, hiding the loyal, strong and prideful leader, with his disgraced and regretful nature. Unfortunately, he regrets that which he cannot change, and often seems to lament needlessly over these things. He dislikes to speak of things in which caused his loss of pride, specifically the events leading up to his becoming outcast from the Dalanost Pack, and often reacts angrily at such things. Of course, this also ties into his challenging nature. He enjoys a challenge, even it seems like an impossible fight, and will often fight solo, telling Baelas to merely watch, and not fight with him. A handicap very few riders would place themselves in.

However, his bond with Baelas is far more complex than any other. The two are the best of friends, bound to each other magically and through blood, by a ritual unique to the Wilder Wurang Riders. They can speak to each other, both through words, and silently, and share many feelings with each other. Baelas, alone, seems to be the one person who can stave off Caelemar's deep feelings of regret and lost love.

While both Baelas and Caelemar agree that their travels have only made them stronger, they wonder exactly what the price was that it took to become so much stronger because of their times away.

Caelemar and Baelas are also noted as being pained at the mention of the reason behind their outcasting. They avoid speaking the words, or the name of the man who was involved, so much as silencing the men who dare to speak of it. Despite this, Caelemar often states that he 'has no skill in hatred', encouraging second chances, and that he holds no hard feelings for the man who did cause him to lose his position.

History:
It was said that a two children were born to the Mistress of Gates in the Eastern Elven City of Quenalinesti, one, a bastard son, born to a human, via rape, a mar on her perfection, and a daughter, to her husband.

The son, however, was not born to a human, but to a Wilder Elf, Malean Dalanost, Alpha of the Dalanost Wolf Pack. A mar, no less, but less of a tale to explain away the boy. The tale followed something along the death of the son, by the hands of the wolves of the western forests; however, this would be merely a wives tale.

She, instead, gave the boy to Malean, in an attempt to have him raise the wilder boy correctly. The Dalanost held wolf-blood in their veins, and the boy would be impossible to raise herself. Only a proper pack would sate the boy's need for freedom. She knew it from the moment the boy was conceived.

The boy was raised, to the age of 7, before his mother took him to Dalanost, but he was kept captive in their home prior to that point. Treated like an animal, by all but his elder sister, his father hated the boy, not for his bastard conception, but that the boy would, one day, perhaps be stronger than him, a great general of the elven army. This hatred only brought Caelemar a new view on his former kin. He knew the unfortunate xenophobia, and paranoia they suffered from, all in the gains of saving face and rank, and pitied them.

Malean started to allow the boy his freedom, giving him free roam of the Dalanost territory, so long as he was accompanied by one of the High Ones, riders who'd made blood pacts with their wurang, or wolf, and gave up some of their humanity in favour of their wolfen kin: a ritual that Caelemar would later go through.

The boy, when he came to Dalanost, was nameless, outside of a nickname, given by his sister, "Lyathinar", and between Malean, and his life mate, they named the boy anew. Caelemar is how the boy became known among the Pack.

Early in his years at Dalanost, Caelemar began to bond with a young wurang pup, known as Baelas. However, at the time, the young Caelemar had no talent in speaking, or understanding the wurang. His father often acted a translator between the two, and as Caelemar grew, so did Baelas.

Malean explained that all of the wurang and elves born of the Dalanost blood held a unique property, in that they shared each other's life. A wurang would share the lifespan of his Dalanost brethren, at the cost that, when bonded, the two shared a single thread. The Dalanost Elf, would, in return, gain the wilder tendencies, and become more akin to their companion.

He also informed Caelemar of a second, unique, link between the Dalanost wurang and the Dalanost elves: when one was born, as would another. These two are bonded by birth, whether the blood pact exists or not.

Caelemar, who was only more and more intrigued by the unique lifestyle of the druidic raiders of the Dalanost, redoubled his efforts, and began working on understanding, and communicating with Baelas, and the other Dalanost Wurang.

By the time he was 15, he had mastered his ability to commune with the wurang of the tribe, and, albeit slow for most Dalanost, he had begun his combat-training with his father. At 12, he'd learnt that Baelas had shared the same birthdate as he did, and understood now, how the two had got along so well. As he grew, so did Baelas, and the once small pup, now easily outsized the young elf by a good foot and a half. Because of this, the days where the two carelessly played and frolicked, and fought, were long since gone. The two ran, together, often, to the river, and joked about together. But in the short time that Caelemar had been at Dalanost, the two matured from playful pups, into fledging High Ones.

The two were trained as raiders among the Dalanost. They, among others, would raid nearby encampments. Elven, human, or otherwise, and bring back as many supplies as they could gather. However, killing wasn't required, if there was no need, they only needed to knock out, or run off the dwellers of the encampment.

Among these raiders was his father's Beta, the second-in-command of the Dalanost, Caelemar's uncle. A High One of 100 years, he was well skilled in what he did, however, the Dalanost had trying times during the winter of Caelemar's 26th year in Dalanost. Very few encampments came close to borders of the Dalanost territory, and thus the raiders had to travel further which became more dangerous.

The 9th moon of that year marked the night that they had traveled too far out of Dalanost territory in search of food and supplies to keep through the winter. They had come upon an encampment over a bluff, and Caelemar pointed it out. However, they were all starved, and dying of thirst and none thought to check if this was, in fact, an unguarded encampment. His uncle led the strike, the first one in, and the first to die.

The encampment had belonged to none other than a royal scout, well guarded, and armed to the teeth. Far more than the band of hungry raiders was prepared for. Caelemar's uncle managed to cut through a good number of the men, before he was overwhelmed; what appeared to be a wall of spears summoned around him and closed in on the elderly elf. With no escape, he met his fate swiftly, although, the screams of his death still wake Caelemar on winter evenings.

Seeing their leader fallen, the men turned tail and fled, while Caelemar surrendered, and asked only one thing, that he be given the chance to return his brethren to their rightful homes, in exchange, the Dalanost would not travel thus far from their territory. As a final reminder to the Dalanost, the human encampment bound Caelemar to the whipping post, and lashed him no less than 100 times.

Three men, including Caelemar, brought back the fallen, while the others, cowards, had fled straight into enemy territory and died with their bodies lost, or had head straight into Dalanost.

That winter proved to be the longest, and hardest winter for the Dalanost, and Caelemar spent very little of it on the raids after the event at the encampment. A young female, slightly younger than Caelemar, helped him to nurse back to help, as the two spent time together, they bonded as well. When it was time for the spring, Dalanost announced that his son, Caelemar, who had taken such measures to ensure their brothers had returned home to be buried, would take his uncle's place as Beta. Overjoyed, Caelemar hugged his father, and thanked him, before turning to his new mate, Ryess, and pulling her in close, and asking her to be his life mate.

To commemorate the position, and the new couple, a festival was thrown, the largest in the time that Caelemar had spent there. The festival pyre burnt high and long into the night, with bright coal as the sun rose, and the raided wines still flowing.

It was during this time, that Baelas and Caelemar began to drift, as Caelemar became more focused on Ryess, and secondly his new position. He almost ignored his best friend, at times. The two, once inseparable, and the greatest of allies, now could rarely be found together. Caelemar didn't raid for a long while, staying with his mate, and Baelas had nothing to do but play hunter for the wurang in his spare time. Nearly 6 seasons passed while this separation grew.

It wasn't until Baelas returned, injured, with deep slashes across his chin and throat, that Caelemar had realized what he had done. In his ignorance of his friend, and love for his mate, he'd cause the beast to become more reckless. The wounds, which bore deep into his companion's throat, awoke Caelemar to the reality of the situation, and how much Baelas meant to him. It was the one time where he fought back his distaste for magical healing.

He favoured his companion's life over his personal preference. The nights that Baelas spent healing, Caelemar slept by his side, hugging the great beast, while Ryess stood over them, understanding how great the bond between the two of them was, and how much stronger it would ever be than Caelemar's bond with her.

As Baelas healed, Caelemar slowly brought his friend back into his life, balancing his love, and his companion; helping Baelas become accustomed the female in Caelemar's life. And one eve, as the two sat over the river, Caelemar smiled, and held out a small amulet, so that Baelas could see it.

A symbol of the High Ones; Baelas noted, and scoffed, noting that he had taken it from his uncle's corpse, long before. Caelemar disagreed, and stood up, swearing that come summer, they would be High Ones, instead of merely companions.

By the time he was 33, the two had become High Ones. Ryess had proudly watched as the two underwent the ritual, and Caelemar returned a changed man. Far more beast-like, and bearing the same scars as his companion, Caelemar had surpassed his dreams, he'd achieved the greatest rankings in his tribe, and reached the highest degree of companionship.

In the 36th year in Dalanost, strangers entered their lands, seeking shelter, and food: a number of riders from a neighbouring land, lead by an elf by the name of Feramil, who claimed to be the last living leader of his tribe.

While Malean distrusted the men, thinking that the small group of 6 would work to tear the tribe apart from the inside, Caelemar requested that they be given a chance, while put under the watchful eye of their tribe.

They put the men to the test, offering them saviour, so long as they contributed in the raids. As the years passed, many a time, Feramil would stay behind, while Caelemar took his men on the raids. It wasn't long before Caelemar realized that Feramil had his eye on Ryess, and was attempting to court her while Caelemar raided.

After he gave them safety within their territory, saved them from their troubles, aiding them when they needed it, this kind of treachery could not go unpunished.

Caelemar confronted Feramil, and called him out in front of the entire tribe. He accused the man of what he had done, and Feramil, not a man to lie, spoke the truth. Only further infuriated at his blatant content with his actions, Caelemar drew his blade, and Baelas took up his side against Feramil and his mount.

Challenged, Feramil accepted the younger rider, and as the two fought, it became glaringly obvious that Caelemar could not defeat his superiour. Feramil pinned Caelemar to the ground and gave him his terms. "Your love, your standing, and your home."

Unable to disagree to the terms, or be faced with death, Caelemar, crushed, agreed to his terms. And while he did not have to leave, he could only spend another season in Dalanost, before he left in the night. Unable to watch as his life mate become Feramil's, whether by force, or not, his position lost, and his pride, gone.

Baelas understood the hardship before his companion, and did not deter him to stay in Dalanost. The two left of their own will. And began to raid and traverse the foreign lands they swore they would not.

In the years Caelemar spent away from Dalanost, he only found hardship wherever he went. Hardship brought growth, and a furthering of his willpower. The raiding of a researchers’ encampment brought him upon a curious weapon. With the researcher murdered, he found himself at quite a disappointment, when he could only make out half of the bastard common tongue of the humans on the parchment that explained the item. But it was enough that he could activate the odd weapon. Keeping it for himself, Caelemar set off again, wandering the lands, until he heard news of Dalanost.

Feramil had murdered his father, and started war on the other tribes: an act of assimilation into one tribe, or face death by his hands.

Baelas and Caelemar decided that after the 5 years of wandering they had done, it was time to return to Dalanost, through Quenalinesti, and retake what rightfully belonged to them.

Companion:
Name: Baelas
Species: Wurang
Age: 49

Physical Appearance:
Baelas stands at 5 1/2 feet, only slightly smaller than his companion, and sits at nearly 7. The massive beast weighs well over a tonne. As well, Baelas has scars across his neck, and some on his sides, where discolouration of the fur occurs, the usual black and grey mottling, is replaced with white/peach-ish fur.

Baelas’ body is well toned, being heavily active, as a mount, and warrior, and is often considered fleeter, and lighter than the wurang of the northern climates.

[Kei]

Alright... I'm FINALLY done my character. Which means we can start now, right???


Name: Saerileth Da’Nilaere

Age: 72

Race: Elvish.

Religion: Gaia.

Class: Bowman.

Weapon(s) of Choice: Yew bow, short dagger.

Personal Appearance: Saerileth is tall and slender, befitting an elf, standing roughly at 5'10". Although she is tall, Saerileth is agile and quick, sporting a slight muscular build. Her wavy hair is of a vibrant red hue, strange for an elf, and it falls to the small of her back. Many have commented on it, saying it resembles a beautiful cascade, almost like a waterfall. Saerileth has attractive pale blue eyes that reflect her intelligence and ingenuity. Her quick eyes miss nothing. Saerileth’s skin seems to be of fine ivory, largely unmarred, with the exception of a small pink crescent-shaped scar on her left arm. Her ears, in accord with all elves’, are slightly pointed.

Clothing: Saerileth’s clothes include a white, close-fitting halter top. Attached to the shirt is a silver ring that sits in the centre of her chest. Connected to that are the strings that tie around her neck, securing the top in place. From that ring hangs a small blue orb, suspended on a silver chain. It was given to Saerileth by her mother, who told her that the orb would bring luck. For mobility, she wears a pair of emerald green shorts that reach 3 inches above mid-thigh, with a tan belt fastened about her waist. Her footwear consists of a pair of black boots that reach just below her knee. They are tied in a crisscross pattern up the centre with white lace. Inside the right boot, covertly hidden, is a gold and black sheath that holds a wickedly sharp silver dagger. Saerileth has always insisted on carrying a secondary weapon for close combat or if someone managed to get close enough to attempt to take her from behind.

To keep it out of her eyes, Keira gathers her long hair at the crown of her head and secures it with a forest green tie. A tan cape flows from around her neck, fixed in place with an emerald brooch. Her yew bow and quiver of arrows are always slung across her back. She wears an armband, the same colour as the cloth she uses to bind her hair, with white ties that lace up the side on each of her biceps. As well, on her left forearm she wears a black wrist guard made of tough leather to protect her wrist from the harsh impact of the bowstring.



Personality:Saerileth a rather outgoing individual and she makes friends easily as many find themselves drawn to her endearing personality. The young elf is an exceptional listener and she will often employ this skill when those close to her are in need of help. Saerileth radiates a hard exterior, never tolerating others knowing of her capacity for caring. She is a compassionate woman, though she regards this as a weakness. She fancies the idea that she is tough, though those that know her can infallibly prove her wrong.

However, when it comes to battle, Saerileth is strong of mind and body. Despite her caring nature, the young elf has a fiery temper and will never hesitate to express it. She is possessed of a firm will and a determination that won’t relent. She never abandons tasks demanded of her, and never backs down from a challenger. Saerileth is very observant and her quick eyes never miss a detail. Training constantly has improved her bow skills greatly. Her aim is true, and she maintains enough strength and accuracy to loose two arrows, in the stead of one. Saerileth has also trained with a dagger since she was young and her skills with the blade prove to be as well honed as those with the bow. She is agile, quick with her hands, and fierce, making her a valuable ally and a formidable enemy.

History: Although Saerileth was an only child, her parents raised her fairly and sought to teach their daughter humility. Despite not having gotten everything she might’ve wanted as a child, Saerileth often felt grateful that she learned this lesson early in life.

Though she told herself that she loved both parents equally, Saerileth developed a special connection with her father, Jermayan. As a child, Saerileth showed an adeptness with the bow, and so her father raised her as a huntress. As it was his profession as well, father and daughter felt as though they understood each other better than Saerileth’s mother had.

Saerileth loathed the chores she had to do, for she often longed to be in the freedom of the forest rather than cooped up in her house. However, she never slacked off in hopes of being relieved of the cramped living area, for her parents always taught her to work hard in life and she would be rewarded. Once she had thoroughly taken care of her household work, the young elf would disappear into the woods for hours, often referring to the forest as her ‘secret place’.

Her father being only a hunter and not something more lavish, the family was relatively poor. Due to this, Saerileth learned never to take anything for granted, but to appreciate it wholly. The young girl never felt deprived of anything in life that was of importance.

When she reached an acceptable age, Jermayan would take her into the woods and train with her vigorously. Though she had already shown an exceptional talent with the bow, her father didn’t want her to be treated any differently than the other young elves who were training to become bowmen. In addition to practicing with the bow, her father also trained her in the way of the blade, employing a small dagger instead of a sword. While she wasn’t old enough to be enlisted as an archer in the army, Saerileth contributed to her father’s income by helping him slay deer.

On her 18th birthday, still young for an elf, Jermayan bestowed upon her a quiver-full of the finest arrows decorated with green feathers. As well as receiving this generous gift, Saerileth was finally old enough to join the army as an archer. She enlisted as soon as possible and began her training in the ranks. Her father, an ex-archer was proud to see her follow in his footsteps.

When Saerileth was 26, after advancing as far as she could as a bowman in the army, her father became ill with a terrible disease. Two months after he became sick, Jermayan died.

Saerileth was devastated. She grieved endlessly for him and discovered that she no longer had the same passion for her occupation. After thinking hard about the consequences, Saerileth disappeared without notifying her friends and family. Everyone believed she went AWOL and they felt sympathy for her because they could understand why. What they did not expect though, was that she never came back. Now she is wanted by the Onocrosian military for deserting.

Saerileth became a traveler without a destination. Though she did not have a goal, she had a purpose. Her purpose was to discover once again the passion that she lost when her father passed and she was determined that she could find it if she kept wandering.

[Myuko]

Name:Venomascus

Age:27

Race:Human

Religion:Church Of Enduring Flame(he isnt directly associated but you will find many of his virtues hold to this relegion)

Class:Necromancer/Mage(Because of his history Venomascus has great knowldge of the Arcane Magic used by Mages But If you wont except a split class just make him a Necro)

Weapon of Choice: Dual Wield Swords(these Swords have a Kris Like Blade and The Handles are Made of Volcanic Rock carved to the shape of Undead Dragons That Integrate into the part the hand grips Giving them a very eerie look.

Personal Appearance:Venomascus Has a Very average Height of 5'11"And has A medium Muscle Build, Venomascus Has Shoulder Length Black Hair with Red Streak about an inch and a half apart each streak itself being an half inch in width,Venomascus weighs about 180 which is average for a man his size,Venomascus Has Black Eyes that are so lifeless they could bring fear to any who stare into them for to long.

Clothing:Venomascus Wears Leather armour blacker than death itself it fights tight to his skin and his armour is detailed the way you would expect from a necromancer,His Upper Torso Armour is detailed with Runes that seem to have a white dim glow to them and His shoulders are covered by Skulls and He wears a necklace with teeth and finger bones and such fashioned with a pendant in the middle with swirling purple dark energies,Down to his Lower Body,Venomascus Has a Bone Belt made Out of a spine and detailed with small animal skulls going around the belt and He has Knee Armour that resembles Elf Skulls With Runes carved into the foreheads,To top all that Venomascus wears a Purple cape on his back that goes down to his thigh of his legs.

Personality:Venomascus Is a very Arrogant and Harsh Person who stands his ground and prefers to work alone among all things.Venomascus As a Necromancer Likes to commune with the dead and rather learn his dark abilities and spells from the dead then from an ancient tome or scroll Which results in a honorable trust with the dead and sometimes he more often then not do things for the spirits in return,Think of him as a Dark Shaman if you will.

History:Venomascus Was excepted into the world of magic at a young age but while he was studying magic he started studying...Darker Tomes in the library,He would have to start sneaking all the advanced tomes he was reading and the council believed he had become addicted to the arcane and dark side of magic and perhaps he had but Venomascus did not care he continued studying late into the night.

Venomascus Had become somewhat accomplished in rep as a mage even with the disagreement of some council members including that of the ArchMage but he continued his study for many years gaining more knowldge when he finally read every book in the guild and then he heard the archmage had a private collection of tomes that were not allowed on the shelves perhaps Venomascus could find it Venomascus Prepared For the coming betrayal of his council and more personally the Archmage.

Venomascus felt he was ready to go into the Archmages room.He had Prepared all the night before feeling he should dawn new armour he crafted the suit he wears to this day.Venomascus toke it upon himself to create his new name for he was not always Venomascus but used to bear the name Beleknia but the name had no meaning to him anymore.Venomascus had puit on his armor and walked out of the sanctity of his room and started walking down the hall towards the Archmages Quarters.

Venomascus didnt have any reason to be quiet for one simple fact...He was more powerful then all the Magi and Guards put together,Power was in his palm and all he had to do was close his fist.Venomascus Blew open the door and walked in and saw the Archmage sitting there beside his fabled collection of tomes and the Archmage said only one thing."I knew the day would come when you would find your way in here and I knew that would be the day when you lost your Identity."Venomascus Brought his fist to the Archmagi's face and he fell to his knees and Venomascus spoke to him."I didnt lose my identity I birthed a new more powerful one...one that desires a future without this guild in it and that alone will make it so."Venomascus said a few words that unleashed a foul death spell and the Archmage lifted of the ground and his body tore itself apart from the inside and turned into dust with a final dark fiery blast.Venomascus laughed menacingly and quite loudly."Pathetic He didnt stand a chance."Venomascus could hear the guards coming he had to work quickly to preserve the tomes but he was not at all worried about death who would in his position of power.

Venomascus quickly put the tome into his magickal pendant which could store immense amounts of space within it.Venomascus the smiled at the oncoming slaughter that would enroach upon the guild tower.Venomascus walked through the hall destroying the tower as he walked through killing all the magi he had served with and some nameless faces and some recognizable faces,Venomascus had destroyed the entire tower and the town surrounding it in one night by himself but being only Human he had been greatly drained and he needed to rest so he rested in the only safe place left in the town...The ground beneath it.He barried himself in a hole with a spell ment to give him endless amounts of breathing air.

Venomascus awoke sometime later the next night That battle had drained him.He shot out of the ground and arose above the ruins of the city and came back down and he glanced around, much of the fire had stopped and mostly only rubble and what was left of the bodies of countless civilians Venomascus toke this time to read some of the tomes he had stolen.Venomascus pressed his pendant and used his energy to pull a few books out and he had found a few titles that really intrigued him:Necromancy 101,Communing with the dead and how to deal with them,Raising the dead,The deadly arsenal of spell of a Necromancer. There where many others concerning Necromancy and Powerful spells that caused unbelievable amounts of damage.Venomascus Liked what he saw and he saw a future filled with power.


Venomascus read every single tome he had stolen from the guild and he now knew how to speak to spirits and at that poin in time he kept all of the Tomes concerning Necromancy and the most powerful spells in his pendant and he toke all the usless tome and burned them in the center of the ruined town.Venomascus looked upon the world he would take for himself.

This brings us to where Venomascus is at this point in time the present day.Venomascus being a human desires one thing Power and Immortality and so that is what he searches for and anyone who gets in his way best leave him alone or he would unleash his horrible powers upon them.

[Chaotic]

Sorry about the delay, chaps. I'll be making another story post throughout the week, as Cryssy works daily. Oh, wewt. Werrrrkz.

[Chaotic]

Myuko: You posted in the in character section without the acceptance of your character to the RP. Were I moderation staff, I'd have you removed from the RP, which is, still, in my mind.

You're character is poorly done when compared to the others. Please refine it. And do not post until I have accepted it.

Your story post has been deleted.

[Myuko]

ok if you say so i thought it was a pretty well done character other then the fact i tend to have a habit of run on sentences thats about it, but ok sorry since the site move didnt know if you accepted or not but you could have atleast told me before i had to do something then i would have made the corrections.