QUICK STATS
Name: Demosthenes
Age: 320
Gender: Male
Species: Mountain Griffon
Height:    3'7" at the shoulder
Occupation: Enchanter and Scholar
Residence: An old library just south of the main ruins of Fell

IN-DEPTH STUFF
Physical Description
Demosthenes is on the smaller end of the scale for a griffon, at 3'7" at the shoulders, but like the rest of his kinfolk, has a body built like that of a lion, and a head, a pair of wings, tail feathers and talons that resemble those on an eagle with pointy ears similar to those of a horse. The feathers on his head and neck are a dark brown which fades to creamy white the closer one gets to his belly, blending in with the tan fur of his hind quarters. On his wings, the covert and tertial feathers are the same colour as his head, while the primary and secondary feathers start out brown at their base, but transition to dark beige towards the tips. The griffon's beak, talons, and tail feathers are all an inky black hue, and his large eyes are deep, glimmering silver.


Personality
Demosthenes has lived a long while, long enough to have seen several squabbles in Adela over the crown, multiple Grand Dukes rise and fall in Connlaoth, and all too many explorers trying to venture into the ruins that lie beyond his storied hall. He's never one for talking about his past; a lot of it is stained in blood, and would bring back memories the griffon would rather forget. He was a warrior, a scholar, a celebrator, a mourner, a friend, an enemy.... So many roles Demosthenes has played over his life, it weighs heavily on him when he has to remember all the faces of loved ones he has lost, all the people who have since been buried in the dirt.

Demosthenes is cynical and bitter with life, an old fool, if you will... But a level headed and empathetic old fool. He is not one to turn down a stranger in need, but his outward kindness to travelers is limited to superficial courtesies. One cannot fault him for that; a thick layer of emotional scars surround his heart, making it hard for him to take any attempt at connecting with him on an emotional level at face value. While Demosthenes has grown to disdain violence in general, he concedes that ultimately there are cases where words and reason alone cannot attain the desired outcome.

Powers/Abilities
Demosthenes has no magical ability in the traditional sense; he cannot cast spells or incantations, nor can he directly control magical energy. What Demosthenes does possess, however, is an extensive knowledge of magical runes, signs and sigils. Years of living in ruins covered in ancient carvings have has given the griffon insight into the hidden, magical power behind the symbols, and through years of concurrent experimentation has overcome his lack of casting ability with the powers of enchanting and scroll-making using runes. Both offer the benefits of actually casting spells in their full power, but have the downside of usually being either being timely to create (in the case of enchanted objects such as jewelry, swords, etc.) or one-use items (in the case of scrolls).   

WELCOME BACK, BUDDY! :D *pounces upon*

Rashid kept his hand steady on the bow string, scrutinizing every word that had come out of the orc's mouth. Turning to the warrior on his right, a tall, breaded Essyrni human, he muttered a few words in the man's native tongue. Easing his bow from full draw, the Khaghan looked back at the clan's guest with a grimace.

"Perhaps you are true to your word, and mean us no harm... Or perhaps you are a spy, sent to find our weaknesses," Rashid said firmly, walking up to the kneeling orc before kicking his dropped weapons towards one of the other warriors, who scooped them up and disappeared into the village, "We'll keep your weapons locked up for now. When... or if... you leave, you can go and pick them up from our quartermaster. Now, you said you were looking for the Khaghan.... What is it you want of me?"

At first, Pippin paid no heed to the echoing footsteps entering the temple. It was a public space, after all, and people were bound to walk in anyhow. The loud, growling voice from behind him, however, startled the meditating griffon, breaking his concentration and causing the sphere of blue energy to dissipate within seconds. There was a fierce glare in his eyes as he turned around to face the interloper, almost as fiery as the ball of magic.

"Was I conjuring a ball of magical energy.... Yes... Until your loud, bellowing bark came in behind me!" he scorned, his eyes narrowing as he got up and approached the bugbear that had disturbed his study.

Right, so.... I've got a few characters here who I've been really feeling a lot of muse for recently, and want to get them into threads! So, without further ado:

Painu Lutri - An honest ferryman who lives by the Ora river in Serendipity. He'll be more than happy to talk your ear off with stories and tall tales if you let him. Also my newest character :)

Isaiah Tasker - A vigilante out in the dunes of the Moraki, this guy absolutely adores slavers... When they're running in terror, that is. Nice enough guy, if you aren't working in the slave trade.

Eyiahad Helvetii - If it's old, dark, and has any chance of having some sort of mystery inside, chances are you'll find Eyiahad exploring it. Alternatively, if he's not busy running away from an angry lich, you can usually find him at a local bar swapping stories and possibly getting into bar fights.

I might add more characters to this later if I feel inspired, but for now, feel free to reply here or PM me if you'd like to plot! ^.^

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Not the first time someone's fallen on me," Zatha replied, looking up at the spot where the branch and it's occupant had fallen from, then back down at the elf girl, "So, what are you doing out here up in a tree branch, Bryn? You look like one of them city dwellers if I ever saw one."

A long, deep breath flowed into Rashid's lungs as the Khaghan of the Söl-Ruhtin lifted a cup of grass tea to his lips, taking in the aroma of the freshly brewed mixture. It was early in the afternoon and the majority of the clan's residents were in their homes, staying out of the hot, Moraki sun. Rashid couldn't blame them; with no games, disputes or business going on in the town center, there wasn't much reason to be outside, even with the shadow of the cliff cooling the village down slightly.

Days like this made him wish his mother had not passed so soon; as assertive and pushy as she was known to be, she knew how to get the community roused and about the town with some sort of game or competition. Setting his tea down, Rashid adjusted his position on the floor, looking out the window of his hut only for his eyes to widen... They had an intruder.

Springing to his feet, the Khaghan quickly grabbed his bow and quiver, slinging the latter over his shoulder as he started yelling for guards in both Essyrni and Mohraza, the native Morrahlique dialect. Within minutes, there was a group of twenty or so armed warriors surrounding the fellow, waiting for further orders.

The Khaghan's eyes narrowed into a glare as he got a better look at the interloper, the fur on the back his neck standing at attention. He appeared to be an orc, but Rashid couldn't quite place where from... His features were refined, yet brutal, and his graceful appearance threw off any attempt at figuring out the fellow's origins. Regardless, this... thing... was considered an enemy in his mind until he could figure out what intentions lie behind his pale gaze.

"Unos djàro qu'arrahzop tchàui! Madjani!"  he barked rapidly to the orc as he pulled an arrow from his quiver. He was in no mood to use Common with the newcomer.

((Rashid is speaking Mohraza. The only two words you need to know are "arrahzop" which is a command to kneel, and "madjani", which means "now"))

@Magyar
While the majority of the population in the Söl-Rhutin clan are either Essyrni humans or Morrahlique (description linked in the OP if you're curious), I don't see a problem with an Elf-Orc as a full member, so long as they're a decent warrior and respect its laws.

Feel free to PM me if you have any questions about the clan or how it operates. :)

• The Fishing Ferryman
  
• Character: Painu Lutri
  
• Location: Serendipity, on the Ora River
  
• Description: Painu is taking a midday break from ferrying people across the river. Go cause him trouble x3

Rays of sunlight filtered through the boughs and branches of the forest, a gently breeze slowly rocking the canopy of leaves that lined the wide river Ora. Springtime in the Serenian river lands was absolutely beautiful, a sight to behold. It was also ripe time for fishing.

If one followed the eastern riverbank upstream about fifty leagues north of Arca, they'd eventually come across Painu the ferryman's dock and his wattle and daub house next to the shore. The home wasn't a pretty structure, but it did it's job with its thatch roof and mud-covered walls. The dock was pretty standard, if a bit small; wood masts with a planked surface and some rope to tie down the otter-kin's raft with. There was nothing terribly fancy about the entire set up, but for someone alone in the woods, it was home.

It was about noon when Painu's last trip across the river for the morning had finished, with the riverdog's raft finally hitched to the moor with a knot that would impress even the most knowledgeable of sailors. Even though he still had provisions in the box on his raft, he preferred to leave those for any weary travelers who might happen by from the path later in the day, leaving the otter to pull his own food from the calm current under his feet... Not that he minded!

Twitching his whiskers, he disappeared into his home, reemerging a few minutes with a long piece of river cane in one paw and a basket in the other. Plopping down on dock, he pulled out of the basket a length of twine, a hook, and a cork bottle-stopper from his last bottle of mead. A few knots and cuts of the knife later, he had a serviceable fishing pole. While he could have easily dived down into the river and nabbed any old fish, he wasn't in any rush; if someone came by needing to cross the river, he's just take the fishing rod with him. For the moment, though, Painu just sat on the docks, humming an old sea shanty as his cork bobber idly rocked in the current, his tail thumping the beat.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Painu Lutri [PAH-ee-noo LOO-tree]
Age 24
Gender Male   
Species Otter-folk
Ethnicity Serenian
Height 5'3"
Occupation Ferryman
Residence Small dwelling on the banks of the Ora River

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
As otter-kin, Painu resembles a humanoid otter, with all the trappings of such; thick brown fur, a long, powerful tail, and a set of large brown eyes. He's right about average height for his kind, with a slim yet toned build typical of swimmers.

Clothing is rather simple for Painu; tweed breeches and a sleeveless green tunic make up the mainstays of his wardrobe, accompanied by a leather belt and a short, curved knife and sheath. Boots and gloves are not his favourite things in the world, because his webbed feet and hands are required for swimming; as such, he usually treads barefoot. 

Personality
Painu is the jolly, talkative sort. Whether he's boistering with some fellows in a bar or chatting with a traveler on his raft, he'll always be looking to swap stories. He's a nice fellow, helpful, too, and doesn't like to see people in distress. However, he's stubborn as a mule and can be a little hot-tempered and impatient when someone pushes his buttons.

Magic/Abilities
Painu isn't one for fancy magic and spells; never had the patience for it. However, he's a good swimmer and a strong one at that: he can haul a full grown man upstream in a rushing tide without issue. Fighting is also in his blood; he's a hardcore brawler, and frequently incorporates his tail into his strikes, tripping up opponents and slapping them silly with a just a flick and a twist.

Relationships

History


__________________THREAD TRACKER
Current Threads

Complete Threads

So, this time around, I had no idea what I was doing in drawing a Muppet. Regardless, here's my best attempt at a muppet-ified @Lion ! Hope you like it!

The Uthlyn Ring

What is it?
The Uthlyn Ring is a clandestine crime ring operating primarily in the cities of Uthlyn and Reajh. Dealing primarily with stolen and prohibited goods and services, the Ring operates in a ruthless fashion, using bribes to entice local authorities and intimidation to get their way. It is not a thieves' guild; there is no leader or governing authority within the Ring, and thus no hierarchy to break... The only rules here are to not get caught and respect your fellow members.

Joining
There is only one way to join the Ring; to know someone in it. If a member feels like someone could be of use and benefit the group, they'll extend an offer to join their "group of friends". Once introduced to the rest of  the organization, the new inductee will have full access to a range of services not available to most.

Member Name |	Service(s) Provided
Vadim Lahti	Document Forgery

Pippin took in a deep breath as he sat in the center of La'Marri's old temple, closing his eyes as he began to focus on the ambient magical energy found throughout the place. He could feel its power flowing through every inch of his being, in and out of his talons in the same instant, running along his nerves like water follows a canal or a riverbed. Exhaling, the griffon increased his concentration, actively moving energy between his talons. It would take a moment, but soon enough, within his grasp were a sphere of pure magical energy. To most, it would look like the fabric of reality was warping in his grip, but to Pippin... It was an indescribable beauty; a soft, blue glow swirling like a gaseous ball of fire within the grasp of his claws.

Although the griffon had chosen to practice his magic in the old temple that morning in private, Pippin was in a world all his own as he gazed at the blue globe of energy in front of him, and nothing was stopping a stranger from dropping in on what he was doing...

The fox rolled his eyes as the elf scrambled to get up off of him. With a heave, he got himself up off the ground as the girl apologised, dusting himself off as he looked up at the tree she had fallen from.

"It's alright, although anyone who knows a thing about trees could have told you that branch would have fallen," he said, stooping down to grab his hat off the forest floor. Shaking the leaves off, he turned his gaze back to the embarrassed elf girl, "Name's Zathàni, although most people just call me Zatha."

The forest in the Serenian river-lands was one of Zathàni's favourite places to be. It was calm, peaceful, and while bandits were sometimes an issue, most got the idea to leave him alone after seeing their largest members felled by a rock from his sling. The trees were in full bloom about this time of year, and the green leaves everywhere just made him happy... Well, if he hadn't been pinned under a wood elf who had fallen out of a tree.

Zatha had just been walking through the woods, taking in all it's beauty (and, perhaps, looking for a spot to build shelter for the night) when he had paused under a tree. A few seconds later, he heard the sound of a cracking branch... But before he could dive out of the way, he found himself under a not a tree branch, but an elf.

"Talxàkai erxa oné kapmàko, uduika," he grumbled, looking up at the stranger on top of him.

((Translation of Zatha's dialogue: "Watch where you're falling, lady!"))

__________________QUICK STATS
Name: Zathàni "Zatha" Únlàza
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Species: Sionhai
Height: 5'3"
Occupation: Odd jobs wherever he can get them.
Residence: Has no home and wanders wherever he pleases.

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Zatha, as his friends call him, is not a tall fellow at 5'3", and could probably use a few inches, but he's not complaining. Aside from that, Zatha is pretty average for a Sionhai; russet fur that fades to black towards his forearms and shins, and a patch of white fur at the end of his tail, complete with orange eyes. Beneath his fur is a rather lithe and toned figure, although he's never considered himself "athletic".

Clothing for Zatha is rather primitive in construction. A simple loincloth and pair of buckskin leggings cover his legs, over which he wears a cotton shirt and rope belt, from which hangs a copper knife and a pouch with several small stones and his sling. With simple wood and rope sandals, his basic daily outfit is complete. For a bit of fashion in his daily wear, Zatha has a bone charm necklace around his neck and a simple straw hat on his head.   

Personality
Zatha is a bit of a cheerful fellow, and isn't one to let tough time get him down. He's attentive and alert to the world around him, which has saved him more than once. The fox is adventurous to the point he might even be considered reckless, and has on more than one occasion tempted fate with his rash actions. Even so, he's not entirely impulse driven, and can be quite the puzzle solver. Zatha also has a reputation for being shrewd and clever with people, and while he is certainly a caring young lad, he is irreverent and sarcastic. A high-spirited freewheeler, he is a born rule-breaker, and while he has the sense to not do anything explicitly illegal, a lot of his antics flirt with that line. With that in mind, Zatha is uncomfortable with large cities and urban life, and although he gets excited when meeting new people, he tends to hesitate when deciding whether or not to talk to a stranger.

Magic/Abilities
Slinging - With skills and accuracy developed from years of practice, if you give Zatha a sling, he can hit just about anything he wants with it. He also is very good at making slings from just about any type of cord, although he prefers plant fibers such as jute or sisal.

Survival - Wandering around has given Zatha a good working knowledge of the lay of the land. He can scavenge, forage, hunt, and cook, as well as perform basic first aid such as bandages, tourniquets and even rudimentary sutures if need be.

Bilingual - Speaks Common and the native Sionhai dialect.

Zatha is also literate, but, while he can read Common, he prefers reading things in his native tongue of Szìagyé.

Relationships
To be added as he is played.

History
Zatha isn't one to talk about his past much. He says it brings up... bad memories. If pressed about it though, he'll reveal a few key things; born into a traditional Sionhai clan in the northern reaches of Connlaoth, he was raised by his uncle after his father was murdered while on a trip through the Kilanthro Mountains at the age of seven. Soon after, his uncle was exiled after a disagreement with the clan leadership, with Zatha being kicked out with him. For the next few years, they lived the life of traveling hobos, taking work wherever they could find it. At the age of fifteen, Zathàni's uncle was imprisoned in Adela after getting in a scuffle with some guards, effectively leaving Zatha to wander on his own.

Rain was nothing new to Shamgar. It was just another part of nature, another thing that came and went whenever Fate decided. That didn't make it any less tolerable for the griffon as his paws and talons plopped against the cobblestone streets of Reajh. Sheets of water pouring down kept him confined to the ground, each drop that hit his wings adding just that much more time he'd have to spend  preening and drying his plumage before he'd be airworthy again.

Even with all the rain, the griffon wasn't in a bad mood... Well, not at present, to say the least. Through talking with an innkeeper, he had heard that there was a decent library just a few blocks from where he was staying, and where there was a library, there was bound to be something that interested him. So, through the rain Shamgar was trudging, all for something to read for an afternoon. Soon enough, he found what he was looking for.

Stepping in the door of the building sopping wet wasn't ideal, especially for handling books, but he'd have to make do.  From the looks of the other patrons of the library, he wasn't alone in the "ill-prepared for the weather" category. As he started down the various aisles of bookshelves, something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Looking down one of the rows in the history section, Shamgar couldn't help but stare; the librarian was a fellow griffon!

So, despite my ongoing lack of creative energy (as mentioned here), I have been itching to get some ideas that I've had for while going. My character Evander has been sitting stagnant for a while, and needs something to do. He is an escaped slave currently begging on the street, and some things I'd like to see happen might be:

Evander, hiding his status as an escaped slave, is looking for a way to support himself. Given his skillset in writing, reading and speaking several languages, he might make a good book keeper.

On the other end of that spectrum, Evander is looking to get out of and as far away as possible from Essyrn. Regardless of whatever job he finds, he finds the culture of slavery in the city repulsive, having been on the receiving end on it.

If you're interested, please send me a PM, since that is arguably the easiest way to get a response from me at this point in time.

I'm surprised I haven't drawn this cute fluffball yet. This is one of my older characters, Evander Pelagius Blackfeather II (what a mouthful :P ), and he was a slave in Essyrn prior to him escaping in a crowd at the Colosseum, but he's got no contacts and no job.

Anyway, this picture is the first one I've done entirely digital from start to finish, and it was an interesting process, to say the least. I'm a bit surprised at how well this turned out given my lack of experience using a graphics tablet, but, hey, I'm not complaining!