__________________QUICK STATS
Name Virgil
Age How old are YOU?
Gender Male
Species Half-Elf
Ethnicity Connlaothan
Height 5' 2"
Occupation Bandit, Brigand, Drunkard, Highwayman
Residence Wherever I'll be left alone long enough to sleep.

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Despite his mixed heritage, Virgil appears completely human to the world around him. Perhaps he will live a lot longer (if said world allows him to), or perhaps not, but he clearly took more after his father than his mother. He does have his mother's exceptional hearing, but his ears are no less human than his father's. His skin tans easily but can burn quickly once it begins to darken. His eyes are amber-colored, and his platinum-blonde curls hang loose about his shoulders; he usually keeps his hair dyed black or brown to avoid standing out, though he can do nothing about his eyes. He keeps his face clean-shaven. While he's technically left-handed, Virgil is functionally ambidextrous.

His father's at least a foot (probably more) taller than he is, marking him apart from the man even if his hair and eyes weren't so different. His father also has curly hair but it's a light brown color that seems to turn auburn in the summer and autumn, and his eyes are a bright green hue. He's also much more heavily built than his son, though there's not a scrap of fat on the man even though he's now pushing sixty.

Personality
Pending

Relationships
Pending

History
Virgil mother died in childbirth; he was an only child. His father wasn't much one for talking, preferring actions to words, and usually came off as very gruff and unfriendly. More importantly, his father was a workaholic and expected his son to be as well. The problem is that carpentry never paid much, and Virgil always got the short end of the badly cut scrap. While his father was an expert cabinetmaker and wainwright, Virgil was mostly good for basic stuff. He did like building birdhouses and dollhouses, and he wasn't half-bad at it, but his father thought it was useless work. He also pretended he didn't have a son or that his son had died when the army came around to recruit him, got out of paying his taxes by bribing the collectors with free jobs, and complained about every little thing when he wasn't working - including and especially his son. He claimed once it was so his son would work harder to improve.

Eventually, Virgil got fed up and left. He moved south with some refugees heading into Serendipity but work was harder to find than before. Nobody needed a carpenter who hadn't even made his bones back home yet, let alone one who could only do basic projects. At one point, he got into an argument with a wagon driver who didn't like his work, or...something. Too long ago to remember. It got heated, and Virgil ended up shooting him with a crossbow. It wasn't on purpose, but that hardly mattered. Seeing an opportunity, Virgil broke open the driver's money box and took the silver in it. He also took a few supplies. Then he disappeared. The murder was never solved.

Virgil got to thinking not long after that and realized something: why work when he could just take what he wanted? It was quicker, easier, and he might not even have to kill anyone if he did it right. So he became a highwayman and a brigand, and he's gotten fairly decent at it. He comes into a town or city every now and then with his ill-gotten gains, and he never takes anything that he can't turn over for a quick profit or that'll get him into too much trouble. The last thing he needs is unwanted attention.

Magic/Abilities
Virgil's a decent shot with a crossbow, has a good eye for targets with a knife, and has basic carpentry skills; he has a knack for birdhouses and dollhouses. He's been trying to teach himself to read but it's very slow going. Virgil has exceptional hearing.

Inventory

• Belt: Simple but sturdy, this thick belt of brown leather holds a quiver on the left hip; Virgil's crossbow is hooked to the belt near the quiver.
  
• Crossbow: This crossbow is a mid-range weapon that has to be set and loaded manually. It clips onto his belt when he's not wielding it.
  
• Ghost Blade: This dagger, taken from a mage's apprentice he caught alone on the road, appears to be wrought entirely of iridescent glass; it has a dual-edged, razor-sharp blade about eight inches long and a crossguard in the shape of the top of an ionic column. The dagger is indestructible and bears a unique enchantment: while it can wound and even kill just as an ordinary dagger does, its true purpose is to inflict agony upon spirits and souls; those spirits and souls that are slain are drawn into the dagger and consumed, though what purpose this serves (and how this affects a spirit's or soul's host) is currently unknown. The dagger imprints itself on the first living person to kill with it and is completely intangible to all others until that person (or "host") perishes. A leather cord bearing two loops - one tight around the hilt of the dagger and one snug around his left wrist - keeps the dagger tethered to him at all times; the leather cord is wrapped around his left forearm, making it a deadly weapon that he can throw and retract quickly or simply spin around for lightning-fast and lethal slashes. The hilt-loop also secures a small metal clip that he hooks onto the strap around his arm for easy carrying. He's practiced with this weapon a lot.
  
• Gunny Sack: A gunny sack that once held potatoes rests on Virgil's back, secured with a rope.
  
• Knives: Virgil keeps several knives on his person at all times.
  
• Quiver: Virgil keeps a quiver at his hip that holds numerous bolts for his crossbow; it is worn on his belt.
  
• Ragged Leathers: Dark brown leather britches, a matching sleeveless jerkin with no buttons but many inside pockets, and a brown leather gambler devoid of decoration make up Virgil's attire. The jerkin hangs to just shy of his knees but doesn't get in the way and holds numerous small supplies (e.g. tinderbox, razor, needle & thread), coins, and other items. His clothing has clearly either been poorly stitched or repaired multiple times (and not by a skilled hand).
  
• Sword Breaker x2: Although it bears a razor-sharp straight edge for slashing, this weapon's primary purpose is to trap an enemy's sword in the teeth on the other side of the weapon; this allows the enemy's weapon to be "locked", or barred from use, and can break weaker swords when sufficient strength is applied (though Virgil has never been strong enough to do this). He keeps two on hand, one hidden in his jerkin, just in case things go wrong in a fight. It's used in his "off" hand (i.e. his right hand), usually in conjunction with a knife in his left hand.
  
• Traveling Supplies: A couple of small wooden bowls, a pot for coffee, small sacks of rice and beans, a tiny pot and pan for cooking single-serve meals, various utensils, a couple of waterskins, and some other basic supplies for the road are stored in Virgil's gunny sack.
  
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So to also make this official, as opposed to just discord chatter:

The plan for the moment is that Min (Aranea) doesn't spend much time in the city of Essyrn. She has a contact there who basically acts as a middleman betwixt her and whatever seedy parts of the city there are, and of course gets her jobs and information. He probably puts her in contact with fences or is a fence himself...either way, someone will move through the underbelly and wind up talking to him. He makes the deal, knowing Min well, and gets the up-front payment. He takes his cut, gets in contact with Min somehow, pays her, and gives her the details of the job. Then she kills whoever she needs to kill, and he collects the final payment for her. And if she doesn't get paid...well, it's probably a good idea to make yourself incredibly scarce very quickly.

So she takes a job to kill someone and her middleman puts her in contact with Lenny after giving him some small sum to get her where she needs to be and make it plausible. Lenny says he needs extra security or something because, y'know, the desert is dangerous...so Min joins the group heading out to the ruins. This puts her close to whoever her target is. It'll be an NPC so there's no conflict with her not finishing the job, et cetera, but ultimately she's also drawn into whatever madness is happening out at these ruins.

That still a good plan, Spice? 8D

Nature at its wildest: a predator and its prey; yet the prey had proven more difficult than it first seemed. This one was no hunter, and they did not move much after the wolf died. They pled for their life, after a fashion, defending their actions against the wolf as they gazed upon the two sets of eyes staring at them from the darkness. When it was clear that this figure - a woman, by the sound of her voice - would not move again, the hunter put her arrows away. Her dire wolf companion moved out of the woman's line of sight, and a heavy burden suddenly and forcefully rested upon the snow beside her - the hunter's pack.

Away went the bow. Away from her mind went the lullaby as well, a tune she had heard from a time when she could barely form memories, yet one never sung to her. For why would anyone sing a lullaby to her? She was a runt, a half-breed, and not worth the attention. Of course, "runt" didn't apply in comparison to the woman the hunter now squatted beside; even crouched as she was, she towered over her.

The overcoat the woman was wearing was soaked in blood on her side. The hunter didn't say a word as she pulled back the coat and peeled away the cloth beneath it, revealing a freely bleeding wound that had already begun to frost over. She pulled out a waterskin and poured water over it, washing away some of the blood and ice. Before more ice could form, she was already pressing a thick bit of cloth to the wound. Her hands worked quickly, lifting the woman a little without effort as she wrapped the cloth around the woman's midsection. The wrapping was tight but not needlessly so. When she had wrapped it about her a few times, she tied it off just as tightly. Then she pulled the woman's shirt and coat back down, ensuring they covered her. Even damaged and soaked now as they were, they were still warmer than nothing at all.

The hunter lifted her pack away and vanished from view for a moment. It wasn't long before a thick bit of wood was slammed into the snow at an angle, striking deep into the ice below it; then another, its path crossing the first; and then a third, its path crossing those of the first two. Thick logs were placed beneath the tripod of wood. A few moments and a couple of sparks later, the logs beneath the tripod began to burn. The orange-red light grew slowly as more logs were added, and the wolf carcass was pulled away to rest near the fire. The hunter began to work on it at once, field dressing it in silence.

The dire wolf, meanwhile, had reappeared and latched onto the woman's coat. It dragged her into a sitting position near the fire and sat behind her for support. Throughout the whole process, not a word was spoken and not a sound was made. The dire wolf was so large that the firelight barely touched its black fur, and only enough light was yet available to reveal that the hunter was clad in thick, furred hides of her own.

Song source: https://vaggvisor.org/gasa-gasa-klinga/

"Gasa, gasa klinga, lan mig dina vingar. Vart ska vi flyga? Till rosende lund."

The words carried on the wind but were quickly drowned; their tune was off-key, but no one would know save the singer. And the singer? To know her by a warm fire was to see her slender form, yet now it was hidden beneath layers of hide and fur. She could not hide her height. Thick boots carried her easily across the frozen snow as the nearly invisible sun high above sunk slowly toward the horizon, the sky shifting from one color to many as the light began to fade.

"Dar bor goken, dar gror loken, dar bygger svalan, dar ar gott att vara."

The cloak concealing her pack whipped this way and that in the wind, as did her hair; she did not have her hood up, for it had grown too warm. Winter had not yet descended upon the world and for one to whom the cold was home, the warmth was only sometimes welcome.

She was almost invisible among the snow and ice, only a little less so as darkness fell. But what the sun illuminated for moments it soon cast into shadow. She rose like a tower above the tundra, and the great black creature trotting beside her was darker still as the light faded. Ice seemed almost to glow and shimmer and shine and sparkle as it broke up the last light of the day, and it seemed to hold it just a little longer as though it could not quite bear to let it go.

Her footfalls stopped, no longer patting down the crystals beneath them, as her ears caught something upon the wind...it was distant, yet her ears were much sharper than those of many of the people of Hyoite. That was far and away across the river, however; there should be none out here save hunters and travelers moving quickly toward that place across the river to the north and east. She heard the howls; she heard the shifting of snow and the breaking of ice. She heard the crying out and the gasping, and she heard the gargled blood and the strangled plea. And then the dire wolf smelled it: blood upon the wind.

She took her bow in her right hand and three arrows in her left as they crouched. One she nocked, the other two she held, and they moved quickly and quietly across the tundra. Up over a hill and around to a break in the frozen ridge they moved, slowing only as the wolf's ears flicked. He could hear it now, too, with ears sharper than those of people but not sharper than her own. It was different than the wind, and now he followed his nose.

---

As the wolf died, a new and perhaps more terrifying shadow loomed above, standing on ice betwixt two jagged pyramids in the darkness. It blotted out the stars as they began to shine and the moon as it stretched its ever-moving eye to rise above them. Its yellow eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, yet its form was obscured. From around one of the pyramids came the hunter, much larger yet crouched to be even smaller than the wolf. Where his eyes shone golden, hers shone silver.

They made no move just yet. They merely watched as the wolf gave its last, shuddering breath. She offered a silent prayer, and the wolf bowed its head. Such was the way of the wilds. Life on the tundra was hard, and survival was not always so easy.

Climbing the shelves was easy enough. Yeah, fever was definitely catching up to them again. It'd go away eventually - it always did - but for now, as fun as their hijinks had been, they needed to rest for a bit. They sat down on a shelf in such away that the cool breeze coming in through the window would help them out somewhat but they were still hidden from view.

While they rested, they pulled out the blue-green swirly marble and started turning it over. Soon enough, it started taking shape. It looked like a living map, constantly shifting as they turned it this way and that, becoming different land masses and rivers and things. This occupied them for some time while they caught their breath and waited to be able to properly move again.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Briana Brundahl ("broon-DOLL")
Age Many Winters
Gender Female
Species Half-Yigg
Ethnicity Unknown
Height 7' 11"
Occupation
Residence Northern Tundra

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Briana, like many of her people, can best be described as lanky; one might easily compare her with a long branch standing on end. Her arms and legs comprise the greatest measure of her height and her arms are longer in relation to her body than what might seem natural, her hands easily reaching her knees without her knees bending; an odd trait of her race is that her pinky and thumb are both opposable. Her skin is remarkably pale, making the blue veins running beneath it easily visible when her skin is exposed, and her lips are just as blue as her veins. Her curly, platinum-blonde hair hangs mostly loose about her shoulders with several small but thick braids hanging at the sides to her jaw line. Her eyes are as silver as a bright midnight moon.

Personality
Pending

Relationships
Pending

History
The Yigg (both singular and plural) are seen very rarely above the ice; mating with other races is rarer still, and the offspring are always runts considered to be significantly lesser than full-blooded Yigg. The handful of runts that have appeared on the tundra over the centuries are occasionally referred to as Icewood Witches, referencing the Ever-Frozen Tree from which some folklore claims they grow like fruit. The story goes that when they are ripe, they come loose from the branches and float to the surface of the sea; when their shell comes close to the solid tundra, it breaks into ice floes to reveal them.

It's completely idiotic, of course, but the Yigg do have a seemingly mystical connection to a massive underwater tree. Many of them are anywhere from a dozen to a score of feet high from foot to head, with skin so white that they become invisible against a wintry backdrop. They form ice crystals on their heads instead of hair and have no external ears but otherwise appear to be simply very tall and very skinny humanoid figures. Their long limbs seem to mimic tree branches, and it is said that their unending breath is as frigid and wild as a winter storm.

Given their ostracization of runts and the folklore surrounding them, little is known about the Yigg themselves, even by their half-breed offspring. Brianna was forcibly stranded on the surface in her early youth and learned to survive on her own as much due to necessity as by sheer force of will. She does know that her people are exceptionally long-lived, possibly immortal, aging very slowly from birth; she does not expect any human to outlive her, for their lives are short and they have a tendency to considerably shorten them further by their actions. As dangerous as her non-upbringing was, however, she has grown into a strong warrior and hunter.

Briana was not immediately abandoned after her birth, however. She was taught to read and write, how to carve stone both for utility and for artistry, and how to hunt and what to do when a hunt is successful. What little she remembers of her earliest years include observations of ritual magic, though she has retained only knowledge of a couple of rituals due to her having never been properly taught these rituals. She was surrounded by dire wolves, foxes, bears, and a handful of other territorial predators in her youth due to her people's habit of training them as hunting partners and protectors, and she later befriended a dire wolf in the wild to aid her as well. But she has few personal memories and had to learn many things entirely on her own once she found herself alone upon the ice.

Although she's clearly set apart from many others who wander the tundra, she considers herself sionadyaki just as they do. She does not recall her parents specifically; rather, she recalls the few things she learned from her people before being cast out. She doesn't even really know why she was cast out beyond being what she is: a runt, a half-breed, of the Yigg. While her visits to Hyoite are infrequent, she has found herself surprisingly accepted there and feels a certain distant kinship with its more permanent residents. When she does visit, she brings in a hefty load of hides and furs, meat, bone-carved tools and weapons, and other supplies from the tundra for trading.

Magic/Abilities

• Call of the Wild: Briana has an uncanny ability to intimidate or calm animals, even to the point of temporarily taming them on occasion. She especially seems to understand wolves on a very personal and primal level. Her instincts in a fight or when hunting are almost animalistic, and she becomes very focused in both instances.
  
• Cold Resistance: Unlike her people, Briana is not immune to the cold. That being said, she can withstand temperatures and conditions far more extreme than most people. This allows her to traverse parts of the tundra considered completely inaccessible to most in the dead of winter.
  
• Ears of a Fox: While her ears are actually quite humanoid, they're far keener than they appear. Briana could hear the falls of a bear's paws in a blizzard a good half-mile away, and she could hear the padding of a fox at twice that distance in clear weather. She has trained her mental focus enough that she can drown out most noise around her, making her only peripherally aware of it, as a means of protecting her ears; if that fails, there's always muffs and a thick hood lined with fur readily available to her that can further deaden the sound. The few people she's met tend to say she has a very intense look about her as a result. Or maybe it's because she never blinks.
  
• Longevity: Briana ages at a rate of about one year for every decade lived.
  
• Strength of Giants: Though not nearly as strong as her kin, Briana's compact muscles are like iron and give her incredible physical strength; she can match a polar bear blow for blow should the need arise. She also has endurance and a pain tolerance beyond what most people think is possible.
  
• Winter's Breath: Unlike her people, Briana cannot breathe underwater. She can subsist on far less air than most people, however, and she can hold her breath for close to a half-hour. The longer she holds her breath, the colder her breath becomes; exhaling after a long period of time can freeze water on contact and coats most things that she exhales upon with a layer of frost.
  
  The following rituals are magical in nature.
  
• To Forget: The first part of this ritual is to drip blood onto the forehead of the target; this blood must come from the one performing the ritual, though only a few drops are needed. Once this is done, a few drops of the practitioner's blood are dripped onto the part of the distaff that will touch the target as well. That part of a rune-covered distaff is then tapped against the target's left cheek thrice; each time this is done, the word "gleyma" ("forget") [source: https://old-norse.net/html/g.php#gleyma] is uttered. This makes the target forget what the practitioner wishes the target to forget, though the effect is limited; this is typically done to make a target forget the practitioner but she can focus on a specific event or place or person or whatever else in her mind instead. The target falls asleep after this is done; when he awakes, whatever the practitioner wanted her target to forget does not exist in the target's mind any longer. Whether a distaff specifically is required is unknown, but the object must be uncarved wood etched with specific runes in Briana's native tongue; a cord or rope or thread must be wrapped about the center as well.
  
• To Remember: The first part of this ritual is to drip blood onto the forehead of the target; this blood must come from the one performing the ritual, though only a few drops are needed. Once this is done, a few drops of the practitioner's blood are dripped onto the part of the distaff that will touch the target as well. That part of a rune-covered distaff is then tapped against the target's right cheek thrice; each time this is done, the word "minna" ("remember") [source: https://old-norse.net/html/m.php#minna] is uttered. This makes the target remember what the practitioner wishes the target to remember, though the effect is limited; this is typically done to make a target remember the practitioner but she can focus on a specific event or place or person or whatever else in her mind instead. Unlike the ritual to forget, this ritual plants the intended memory in the target's mind if it was not previously there; if it was and was forgotten, either naturally or via the ritual to forget (or another means), the memory is recalled naturally. As such, the practitioner must have at least some knowledge of what is to be remembered in order for the ritual to take hold; the more she knows or remembers, the better. This can thus be used to implant false memories. The target falls asleep after this is done and the ritual takes hold when he awakes. Whether a distaff specifically is required is unknown, but the object must be uncarved wood etched with specific runes in Briana's native tongue; a cord or rope or thread must be wrapped about the center as well.
  
• To Rise (for a time): This ritual must be conducted at the burial site of the intended target. The ritual here is more complicated than the rituals to forget and to remember. First, a young animal (not yet mature) must be sacrificed atop the burial site; the practitioner must then sacrifice some of her blood - not enough to be grievous but much more than a few drops - and allow the blood to mix with that of the sacrificed animal as it soaks into the ground of the burial site. The caveat is that this must be done at a burial site where someone was interred in the ground and not in a coffin or other container, and the target cannot have been burned. If only one animal is sacrificed, a prayer must then be uttered as a runic distaff is held in the bloodied hand of the practitioner over the grave: "Rise now, that I might speak with thee." (This is spoken in the Yigg tongue, of course.) This also cannot be done during the daylight hours or when significant light is present. If successful, the target claws its way out of the grave and answers as many questions as it can; it must answer honestly, but the information given may or may not be useful. A conversation can be held if need be but if the distaff is removed from its held position above the grave, the corpse collapses once more. There may be a way to make the spell last longer or to command the target in other ways, but this information is not known to Briana.
  
  Inventory
  
• Arrow x50: Tipped with heads carved from bone and balanced with leather cord and feathers.
  
• Bedroll: Thick hides have been stitched together to create a softer and warmer bed upon which to lie than ice and frozen snow when camping. It is strapped to the side of Briana's survival pack.
  
• Hooded Cloak: This was wrought from the hide of a polar bear, and the hood was shaped from its head; it is heavy and thick enough to keep even a miserable little human warm in the roughest winter weather and the inside bears several pockets of various shapes and sizes for holding supplies.
  
• Hunting Knife x3: Wrought of a mix of carved bone and shaped stone, these bear leather-wrapped hilts and are used for dressing kills as well as other purposes.
  
• Longbow: Wrapped with furs for a better grip and used for hunting; the string is drawn with Briana's left hand as the bow is held in her right hand.
  
• Makeshift Distaff: A thick length of dark wood cleanly cut at both ends, stripped of bark, and carved with runic symbols at both ends; wrapped about the center is a leather cord. This is used in ritual magic.
  
• Quiver: Wrought from thick hide; it can hold up to fifty arrows.
  
• Rolled Tent: Hides stitched together and bound to several small but sturdy poles, with a couple extra poles and some additional cord for securing it, this is rolled up and strapped to the side of her survival pack. The tent has a folding flap at either end (when unfurled) that can be secured or left loose while it's set up.
  
• Spear x2: Wrapped with coarse furs for a better grip, these spears' bone-wrought heads are each fitted to their respective hafts with a leather cord; sap was applied to better secure the bindings.
  
• Survival Pack: Made from two layers of hides stitched together and worn upon the back, this large pack holds various things including hides and furs; cured meat; other materials from kills; and various traps and supplies either made by Briana or traded for in Hyoite. Her tent roll is strapped to one side and her bedroll is strapped to the other. Her cloak is typically thrown over it rather than worn under it, being large enough to keep her warm and protect her pack.
  
  Companion(s)
  Dire Wolf: Ulfur
  From Old Norse word "ulfr", which means "wolf".
  Briana is always accompanied by a black dire wolf with silvery-gray socks and a gray underside, though his chest remains entirely black; the tip of his tail is also silvery-gray, as are the backs of his ears. From paws to ears, he stands a full six feet in height. He is her friend and companion, a loyal hound who would die to protect her (and she him); they hunt together, fish together, fight together...they are never apart. If she isn't intimidating enough, he absolutely is. She met him less than a year after his birth following his ejection from a pack, matched him move for move in a bloodless fight for dominance, and earned his respect. They have saved each other's lives many times and in many ways. Ulfur is highly intelligent, able to reason and think critically and even respond to a given situation in ways beneficial both to him and his partner; he is almost an extension of Briana in terms of his behavior and actions, and only in certain circumstances need she issue a command to him. It is almost as though they can read one another's thoughts, though this is merely the perception of others who have observed them.
  
  Verbal commands to Ulfur are (somewhat) loosely based on Old Norse and are as follows:
  
• Dvelja: "Stop"; this is rarely needed but has been given on occasion. (source: https://old-norse.net/html/d.php#dvelja)
  
• Efna: Given contextually to get him to do something specific, such as track someone or something by scent when given a sample (e.g. a person via a scrap of clothing, an animal via a tuft of fur or bit of spilt blood). Certain body language, such as moving a raised finger in a circular motion, can also be used; in this instance, it would be a command to search the area. (source: https://old-norse.net/html/e.php#efna)
  
• Efta: Another command given contextually; this one is sometimes used in conjunction with body language as well. Most often it is a command to follow a trail, a person, or an animal or to fetch something; it can also simply be a command to return to Briana, either to stay by her side or follow her or as a means of calling for his aid. (source: https://old-norse.net/html/e.php#eptir)
  
• Mylla: "Balls!" This is a command to clamp down on someone's balls with Ulfur's jaw; this is typically done as a serious threat to a man, usually when interrogating him (though it can be a display of the pair's superiority, and Ulfur's superiority in particular, as well). Ulfur will not bite down in a full attack unless an additional attack command is issued, merely holding the man in place and possibly growling. Of course, that's not to say he won't squeeze a little. (source: https://old-norse.net/html/m.php#mýll)
  
• Ostr: "Throat!" This is more specific than the general command to attack (see snerra, below), ordering Ulfur to go for the throat of a target or enemy. (source: https://old-norse.net/html/h.php#hóstr)
  
• Snerra: "Attack!" (source: https://old-norse.net/html/s.php#snerra)
  
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The light was a wee bit surprising, as was the apparent stickiness of the branch Chelsika was holding onto all of a sudden. They found themselves able to move well enough, but their hands would not budge from the branch. Still, it was a moment or two or three before their laughter finally subsided into chortling and giggling that was no longer silent. They had finally begun to catch their breath. The cats, meanwhile, just looked confused. Well, the one cat looked like it still wanted to play, but the other one was completely confused as to why it was suddenly hanging in midair.

Chel, however, was not confused.

Ooh, mean lady has tricks too!

The thought just made Chelsika giggle again. The fever was starting to catch up with Chelsika once more now that their breath was slowly coming back to them, but they had bigger problems at the moment. Focusing on channeling their own innate magic, they slowly built up a resistance until their fingers began to twitch...and then to move...and finally to wriggle. They peeled off of the branch after several seconds and flexed their fingers with a grin.

With that, they quietly snuck toward the opposite side of the tree, to where they could drop down discreetly. It was easy enough to dart through the legs of tables and chairs nearby and disappear into the stacks near the window where they'd first come in. They could escape easily enough, of course, but they wanted to have some more fun.

I think Aranea's ready for this. I could see her being drawn into the chaos somehow, but it's also possible she could be hired as an assassin by the Never King. She is a wild card who would basically work for the highest bidder, so her "allegiance" could go either way but could also switch down the line if she gets a better offer. On the other hand, pissing her off might cause her to switch sides as well.

Through one shelf, across another, dashing down aisles and between the furniture - all around the room the cat ran and jumped. Like his passenger, Romeow was having the time of his life. It was all Chelsika could do not to burst out laughing in mad glee. Past the stacks to the public collections they flew, around the main check-in desk, and straight up the trunk of the tree planted nearby. It was there that Chelsika was caught by a branch and seemed to stick, but the cat wasn't nearly done. It leapt from the tree to the stairwell and then from there back onto the floor. It continued to zoom around for a couple of more minutes before eventually rolling around as though it had gotten into a pile of catnip.

The whole time Chel watched this from the tree, they were laughing so hard that they weren't making a sound. They could barely breathe! Thankfully they were concealed by the branches and the leaves. Also thankfully, they had enough presence of mind not to fall out of the tree. Had they tear ducts, their eyes would have been swimming and stinging with salt. And of course, another cat came along and wanted to get into the excitement as well - so it promptly leapt off a counter, knocking over several books in the process, and began to play with the cat that Chelsika had charmed.

Who knew libraries could be so exciting?

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Aranea Minreth ("air-AY-nee-AY min-RETH")
Age Many Cycles
Gender Female
Species Spiderkin
Ethnicity Essyrni
Height 5' 2"
Occupation Assassin & Poison Dealer
Residence Essyrni

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Aranea's gray skin often has her confused with drow, while the chelicerae flanking her mouth are often mistaken for tusks (such as those of half-orcs); this causes confusion until people see the black eyes above her more human-like eyes. Even then, not everybody immediately recognizes the black bulbs as eyes. Her more human-like eyes have black irises, though this is merely considered highly unusual rather than spider-like. The four large, spindly, segmented legs with deadly piercing tips that grow from her back, however, mark her clearly for what she is. These legs can wrap about her closely, allowing her to don a cloak that conceals them as needed; she often wears a hooded cloak that conceals both her spider eyes and spider limbs, leaving only her confusing skin color and chelicerae visible.

Aside from these features, not much really stands out about her. She does have purple shoulder-length hair that she parts to the right, keeping the left side of her head shaved, but this cannot be seen when she's hooded. Her ears are akin to those of a half-elf but are also concealed when she has her hood up. She has no eye brows, a fact that isn't immediately evident unless she has the hood down. She stands five-foot-two and has a stocky build but she is astonishingly quick and agile (see Magic/Abilities, below), making her a deadly combatant and allowing her to escape a situation with relative ease even if she has only her humanoid feet to carry her. She is left-handed.

Personality
Aranea is absolutely terrified of fire; she won't go anywhere near it if she can avoid it. She would actively seek a more difficult and dangerous path to avoid one that had fire anywhere upon it. She's nigh fanatical in her devotion to spiders and spider-kin, considering herself and them before all others - and them first; her selflessness in this regard is one of the few truly good qualities about her. She often travels by the name Min or Minny but she doesn't try to hide her chelicerae; she just prefers to keep the more obvious signs of what she is out of sight so as not to scare off her targets and potential customers.

Minny is bisexual but leans strongly toward women; she has to really like a man to be invested in him, and she doesn't go for the "good" types. She's drawn to darker and more "exotic" skin tones, and she likes her partners to be intelligent and at least morally ambiguous. Woe be to those with whom she has a falling out or considers enemies, however. She has a tendency to literally eat them alive.

Relationships
Pending

History
Pending

Magic/Abilities

• Spider Limbs: Although her four spider limbs are used primarily for climbing, allowing Aranea to scale almost any surface with ridiculous ease and speed, they can also be used for four deadly attacks. The limbs are powerful and can do some serious damage, but attacking in this manner is tiring as she's putting full force behind ever strike. The tips of these legs act like spears in battle, making these limbs similar to the stingers of scorpions but without the venom. In addition, the "thorns" along the spider limbs can help to catch her if she falls or rend the flesh of those they swipe. The limbs are armored except at their segments; the armor is equivalent to steel plate.
  
• Chelicerae: The protrusions flanking Aranea's mouth are coated in a necrotic venom that forces whatever it touches to begin decaying; however, the venom also has secondary effects that are more like poison if left untreated. Fever, dizziness, nausea, and muscle weakness or muscle spasms are the most common symptoms; if the poison is allowed to spread or more poison is applied, breathing will eventually become difficult and the body will begin shutting down. The localized necrosis takes several minutes to begin manifesting visibly with a single injection, and the poison may take as long as a half-hour to begin affecting someone due to its slow-acting nature. Death inevitably occurs within two hours of injection. If a victim is subject to multiple injections, however, this time frame becomes increasingly shortened; with several injections, death can occur within a half-hour. The venom sacs are stored in the space betwixt her eyes and the base of the chelicerae.
  
• Spider Eyes: Aranea's six additional eyes do not provide her with ordinary visual acuity. Instead, the four larger ones add to her visual acuity in darkness; if one or more of these are blinded in some manner, the removal of each one's functionality will significantly decrease her ability to see in the dark. With all four active, absolute darkness appears equivalent to bright moonlight; the caveat is that these four eyes only see in black, white, and shades of gray. The two smaller eyes, however, detect heat signatures rather than light; this allows Aranea to find living targets and other sources of heat even when all of her other eyes are blocked by something like fog or smoke.
  
• Spinnerets: Multiple sacs of an extremely sticky silvery-white fluid are stored in Aranea's neck, and a pair of spinnerets beneath her tongue allow her to rapidly spew webbing that is roughly as strong as steel but dissolves in about four hours; fire can burn the webbing but they'll cling to anything that touches or tries to cut through them. The sharp tips of Aranea's spider limbs do not stick to the webbing.
  
• Fleet: Aranea's reflexes are superb and allow her to move roughly thrice as fast as most people. She is extremely agile and fast on her feet, and using her spider limbs to run allows her to move fast enough that she almost becomes a blur. She is a little slower when using her spider limbs to climb or cling to a surface but her reflexes do not suffer in this instance.
  
• Immunities & Resistances: Aranea is immune the venoms of spiders and resistant to most other forms of venom. She is also resistant to most forms of poison and to date has never contracted a disease of any kind; as such, she may be entirely immune to most diseases or perhaps only highly resistant. Aranea also has somewhat thick skin and a high tolerance for extreme cold; she can release a lot of body heat very quickly if need be, making her well-adapted to life in the desert, and the pigmentation of her skin makes her resistant to sunburn.
  
• Spider-Friend: Aranea shares a deep connection with most spiders that allows her to communicate with and influence them empathically. She often has hundreds of spiders crawling about her person and hiding in her clothes; they will attack whatever threatens her as a massive swarm but can also act as many extra sets of eyes. This also allows her to communicate at a distance with others who can also communicate with spiders.
  
  The following abilities are magical in nature.
  
• Psychometry: Aranea can feel emotional energy when she touches animals, people, or various surfaces; focusing her innate magic on that emotional energy shows her visions. People give her flashes of their lives when she touches them, while objects and surfaces give her flashes of the events surrounding them. Touching a wall might show her who has passed by what has happened recently near said wall, for example; picking up a candle might show her a vision of the world around the candle the last time it was lit; touching a beloved teddy bear might show her memories tied to that bear. Touching a corpse usually shows the last moments before that individual died. Aranea's psychometry is always from the point of view of whatever she's touching. This allows her to use various creatures and even other people as scouts, whether they are willing or not, by focusing her psychometry specifically on recent events; it also allows her to investigate an area or object (or those personally tied to that object) in the same manner, even without the physical presence of other people or creatures.
  
• Scrying: Through deep meditation, Aranea can "send" her mind out either into the world around her or into the minds of others. This allows her to observe events as they happen, scout an area, or even probe someone's mind. She cannot "receive" knowledge of the past in this way if it doesn't exist in the mind of a person or creature.
  
• Astral Projection: Through deep meditation, Aranea can loosen the bonds betwixt her spirit and her body; doing so allows her body to roam freely. Her spirit, once freed, can move and act like a ghost. It is intangible, able to move through solid surfaces but mostly unable to grasp solid objects. Channeling magic, however, allows her a limited physical connection to the world; she can leave bruises or scratches upon someone's body, move objects, fly, become invisible, and even disrupt fires. Her spirit is susceptible to magic or abilities that would affect ghosts and spirits, and she grows weaker the farther from her body she is and the more time she spends projecting. If she spends too long projecting or travels too far from her body, she may not be able to return to her body and her body will shut down; she has never projected for more than an hour, and any length of time beyond a half-hour makes the danger begin to grow exponentially. Unfortunately, projecting also leaves her body unprotected unless she takes measures to guard it.
  
• Summoning Rituals: By sacrificing living creatures on an altar within a runic circle and placing a smaller runic circle nearby, Aranea can summon large and powerful spider-like beings for multiple purposes. The smaller runic circle absorbs ambient magical energy and acts as an anchor for whatever is bound within the summoning circle, preventing it from running wild once summoned; various herbs and other materials are typically burned to strengthen the anchoring runic circle, though this isn't necessary for every summoning. The creatures summoned are intelligent and mysterious, able to commit powerful magic to the summoner's purpose or provide knowledge otherwise inaccessible to her. They like making deals - nothing is free - and are willing to kill someone, steal something, offer information or insight, or perhaps do other things for the summoner if the cost is provided to them. These rituals are short-lived, as the creatures that are summoned aren't meant to remain beyond the reason for their summoning; some creatures may need to be resummoned if a deal is made and the cost is unable to be paid immediately. Such creatures rarely tell the summoner anything without a direct request, however; for example, knowing how to summon a very specific creature is knowledge that might need to be shared by that creature (as opposed to summoning any similar creature that happens to answer the summoning).
  
  Inventory
  
• Ironwood Crossbow: A light crossbow held and fired with one hand; requires a second hand to manually set and load it, however.
  
• Spider-Kin Venom: Small vials of Aranea's own collected venom for dipping crossbow bolts into.
  
• Crossbow Bolts x25: Tipped with steel and stored in her cloak.
  
• Ice Bolts x10: The steel tips of these bolts are etched with runes that cause them to erupt with "dry" ice when they hit something with great force; the ice spreads slowly for about a minute, freezing everything it touches, making wounds caused by these bolts particularly dangerous and painful.
  
• Shatterbolts x10: The steel tips of these bolts are etched with runes that cause them to explode when they hit something with great force; the explosion causes no fire damage but instead sends shrapnel in every direction within about five feet. Obviously, these can be particularly devastating to shoot someone with.
  
• Spiderbolts x5: The steel tips of these bolts are etched with runes that conjure several dozen tiny black spiders into existence when they hit something with great force. These spiders possess a stinging venom that is very painful but otherwise harmless. While a single bite might be painful, however, dozens of them all at once can be excruciating. Moreover, since the point of a crossbow bolt is to pierce the flesh and enter a target's body, this can cause numerous internal problems.
  
• Prized Throwing Knives x8: Carved of bone and set into hilts of obsidian, this set of knives has been precision balanced for throwing. The bone blades each have a sinuous double curve, limited serration, and are razor-sharp. The hilts have been polished and set with tiny onyxes, and a binding of alchemically strengthened spider silk with the tensile strength of steel wire helps to secure each blade to its hilt. Etched runes enchant the knives so that they can return to their owner's hand when the command word (salipzia) is uttered. The command word can be changed only with a special ritual, and the one who made the knives is long dead. These knives are hidden in discreet pockets of Aranea's cloak.
  
• Hooded Cloak: Plum-colored; the inside has fifty open sleeves that can each hold a crossbow bolt, with twenty-five of them resting to either side of the front of the cloak. The inside of the cloak also has several pouches of varying sizes and shapes, allowing its wearer to carry numerous items small enough to be held in the hand (e.g. vials, coins). The cloak itself is made from thick, sturdy wool and bears a relatively large hood; it has a polished steel clasp in the shape of a stylized spider.
  
• Alembic & Kit: Equipment & assorted tools (e.g. stirring sticks, measured vials, stoppers) for mixing potions & poisons; carried in Aranea's cloak.
  
  __________________THREAD TRACKER
  Current Threads
  
  Complete Threads

The cat was very friendly, it seemed, even without the fae magic flooding through him. Yes, it was definitely a him. Chelsika checked. Of course, now all the cat wanted to do was snuggle - which was perfectly fine, except Chel wasn't in the mood to snuggle. Keep that up and the cat wouldn't be, either. By the time Chelsika had managed to mount the creature, the cat was already sneezing. Hope the library had good healers on hand. Then again, it wasn't the cat they were gonna need to worry about in a second.

As the light faded from the room and Eldrian began to carry the lantern back, the last couple of patrons out in the main room left for the day. There was quiet for a few moments as the librarian prepared to return to her duties. That quiet was not to last.

First came the sound of a pot shattering; then another; and a third, this one spilling water as well as soil. Then came the sound of books hitting the floor. When one particularly large book fell, it slammed into a podium holding another large book. The loud, dull thud of the podium hitting the carpet was accompanied by the flapping of pages and the crashing of bottles of ink as something very large and furry dashed past in a blur, leaping from one shelf to another, with...something...holding onto it for dear life! The cat burst through one of the more open shelves, knocking aside more books and landing - somehow - on top of a globe. It quickly scrambled a bit, and the spinning globe popped off its pedestal and began rolling down the aisle as the cat leapt away to cause even more chaos.

The stacks, of course, were exactly as they should have been: large and boring. Hundreds of tomes all lining the shelves on just about every subject one can imagine, and likely catalogued very neatly by some box of cards somewhere held by a snooty librarian...such as the one currently trying to blind herself in the storage room Chel had just been in, for example. However, in a place this large, it wasn't unexpected to have a wee bit of a mouse problem. That was evident from the hole in the back of that one shelf, the mouse-hole Chelsika had found, the trap sitting just outside it...

...and the cat that suddenly and silently appeared seemingly out of nowhere right in front of them. They blinked, startled, as the cat started sniffing about. Then Chelsika's lips once again started to twist into a slow grin once more. It was almost an evil, sadistic grin...except that Chel wasn't really evil so much as very bored and a lover of mischief. A quick snap of the fingers made the overly friendly cat jerk back, blinking rapidly and twitching its ears. A bit of whispering, almost cooing, and some gentle strokes and a kiss upon the nose were all it took to channel magic into the creature.

Oh, this was going to be fun...

So I just made Kallippos (link in sig) and he would definitely be opposed to something like this. He's one of the few in his herd who are able to move on their own due to the nature of his duty to the tribe, and he's not he only Wayfinder for them, so it would be less of an issue for him to investigate evil happenings than it would be for another member of his herd. I'm not sure exactly how he would fit into the whole thing so his role would probably begin in a pantser role. I'm definitely open to plotting for this, however!

His role could either be actively against the bbeg or someone who gets sucked into the chaos; just need some plottage to figure out which and how. :) Most likely he'd be in the city somewhere during one of his herd's rare visits but beyond that...I dunno. PLOT MEH.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Kallippos ("kal-IP-os" [hard "s"])
Age Many Suns
Gender Male
Species Desert Centaur
Ethnicity Moraki
Height 8' 4"
Occupation Lancer & Wayfinder
Residence Moraki Desert

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Kallippos has a mottled coat of gold and white hues; his silvery tail is brushed and braided, and it is often decorated with cactus flowers. His red hair, also worn in a thick braid, reaches to the small of his back; cactus flowers also decorate this braid. His skin is olive-toned, and he bears the insignia of a glass spearhead pointing toward his fingers as it seemingly grows out of a cactus flower on the back of his left hand (see Inventory, below). The image of a sleeping sand cat is tattooed upon his left shoulder to honor a pet who died several years ago; "Beloved Aglaia" is tattooed beneath the image of the cat.

Kallippos' eyes are bright green. His face is kept clean-shaven but for a curly red goatee that extends beneath his chin; it is not braided but it is well-tended. His right earlobe is pierced with two gold rings in honor of his mother and father, and his left earlobe is pierced with three silver rings in honor of his brother and his two sisters. A choker of bones is worn about his neck, each one etched with a depiction of an event of personal significance, for he prefers not to wear armor or carry a shield as they slow him down in battle.

Personality
Kallippos is asexual but homoromantic. He's not completely averse to physical attraction, being strongly drawn to powerful arms and shoulders and chests and loving the feel of a well-tended coat and...ahem. The act itself is...uncomfortable. At least, the idea of it is. He can appreciate a fine rump and hunky torso as much as anyone else, though he doesn't see the attraction in being covered in sticky sweat (ew) or doused in water. He likes looking at men, he just doesn't want to...y'know. Do that. And he values being clean and not dripping or splashing or smearing things everywhere. Honestly, the farthest he's ever gone is kissing, and that...well, that brings the issue around to emotions.

For him to get into a relationship, Kalli needs to have a connection with someone. That only comes with respect and trust, which is a two-way road. More than anything, he respects actions rather than words and doesn't see strength as the be-all, end-all. Strength is useful. Strength can be very attractive. But strength, improperly focused, leads only to disaster and suffering - not to comradery, love, or anything good for either the tribe or those outside it. Strength must be tempered with mercy, lest it provoke righteous anger from him. It's one thing to end the lives of your enemies in honorable combat; it's another thing entirely to murder an unarmed and helpless victim of your wrath, righteous or not.

Of course, there are some crimes that are unforgiveable, but they are thankfully very few and far between.

Only those closest to him are allowed to call him Kalli, the shortened version of his full name.

Relationships
Alcippe ("al-SIP-ay"): Mother
Archippos ("arc-IP-os" [hard "s"]): Father
Leukippos ("loo-KIP-os" [hard "s"]): Brother [elder]
Rosalind ("ROZ-uh-lind"): Sister [younger]
Rosamund ("ROZ-uh-mund"): Sister [youngest]

Rosalind is often called Roz, while Rosamund is often called Rozzy, in order to distinguish them. Leukippos is often called simply Loo. Their parents have their own private names for each other but are referred to as Mother and Father by their sirelings.

History
As his history is mostly tied to his tribe, this section will focus mostly on the tribe. Linguistically speaking, the tribe's individuality has mostly been lost throughout the millennia but some words and phrases remain. Their language is based on ancient Greek but much has been mixed with Common or lost entirely; most of what remains is devoted to names and occasional words or phrases used in common parlance alongside words or as part of phrases in the Common tongue. For use in RPs, I'll be utilizing Google Translate (English to Greek).

The White Hoof tribe is a sight to see. Tall, well-built, powerful centaurs traveling in herds numbering anywhere from a score to well over a hundred, their namesake unique white hooves are said to thunder even upon the sand. Their equine flesh grows no hair save their tails, which they preen and wash and style frequently as a communal activity; the mixed white and gold hues of their coats are iridescent when glistening with sweat under the light of the blazing desert sun, and some say they can vanish among the dunes if you aren't watching them carefully.

The tribe in total numbers somewhere around eighteen or nineteen thousand spears, as they call it. They are a tribe of wandering hunters and warriors with a rich culture shared with few outside the tribe. They respect kaadir as fellow hunters and tend to avoid them but give them preference when one of their herds crosses paths with the creatures. Sand cats they consider absolutely sacred; many keep sand cats as companions in hunting and as pets, and to harm or attempt to harm a sand cat is a crime punishable by summary execution. Encountering one in the wild is said to be an omen of extremely good fortune.

They hunt lizards (other than kaadir) and scorpions for food and clothing as well as tools and weapons, and giant scorpions in particular provide much to a herd. Only the great white scorpion, a giant scorpion whose iridescent armor can sometimes appear gold, is feared and avoided by them; to the tribe's knowledge, no centaur has ever survived an encounter either alone or in a herd with a great white scorpion. They're too quick, too intelligent, and far larger and more flexible than any other giant scorpion. Thankfully, they're also extremely rare. Only sand worms are more woefully regarded than great white scorpions.

Whether there were other tribes within the Moraki Desert is unknown to the White Hoof. They are the only desert tribe they know of presently, and their herds wander the whole of the desert. It is rare for them to approach Essyrn; when they do, they never send more than half their herd into the city at once and larger herds often send much fewer than half. This is to protect their herd as well as to prevent others in the city from seeing them as a threat. Conflicts have arisen in the past but not for a very long time.

Most White Hoof centaurs have shades of blonde hair, which is always as well-tended as their tails and never short; this is an odd contrast to their olive-skinned and often darkly tanned upper bodies and dark eyes, which are seen to be in shades of brown and green. For one of the White Hoof centaurs to be born with amber eyes is considered a blessing from the desert and a prophecy of great potential. Red hair is uncommon among the White Hoof centaurs but not unheard-of; it is usually considered to be indicative of a centaur who is self-reliant, energetic, and honest.

Centaurs of the White Hoof tribe are particularly distinctive in battle for the thick, heavy chitin armor they wear. It is decorated with bones carved and arranged in different manners, often telling a story. If that story is "broken" during battle but the armor survives, then a new story must be told with the bones of their fallen enemies. They favor spears and javelins, and shields of bone and chitin, but it is their leaders who are truly influential in a battle. Each herd is led by a Chieftain, a War Chief, a Shaman, and a Brewer (their word for alchemist and healer).

White Hoof Shamans consider the wind to be a sacred, living being that rises and dies as per the will of the desert, for it is the living breath of the desert itself. To this end, their magic is primarily focused on listening to the wind - their form of divination - allowing them to predict what is coming and even search  the world around them for immediate dangers or opportunities for hunting, shelter, and other such necessities at great range and with great accuracy. Their command of the wind is especially useful in creating gale-force walls around them that block the majority of the danger inherent in a sandstorm; this is a powerful bit of magic that cannot be easily used on the move, however, and thus requires the herd to be stationary unless several Shamans are focusing their magic on a single wall and being guided by their herd. Moving through sandstorms is done only in the most extreme of circumstances. While not actually leaders, they are considered to be among the leadership due to their vital roles both in and out of combat.

Brewers are responsible for the creation of potions, elixirs, salves, poultices, and other medicines as well as utilitarian concoctions. All armor and shields made by the White Hoof tribe is oiled and polished using potions concocted by Brewers that strengthen them to the point of being nearly indestructible. Bones used to decorate armor and shields are similarly treated, though some of the potency is lost compared to the armor and shields themselves in the process. The breaking of a "story" is therefore considered a momentous personal event. While not actually leaders, they are considered to be among the leadership due to their vital roles both in and out of combat.

White Hoof centaurs also adorn themselves with necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and other decorations made from a multitude of materials. Bones and teeth are common, of course, but so are decorative stones, shards of the hooves of fallen family members or other centaurs of great personal significance, loose pieces of glass taken from Seraj Isa, gems, and other interesting things. Gems are typically reserved for more significant members of a herd, such as the leaders and people who have earned great respect in hunting, in battle, or by other means. Finding a piece of glass that "speaks" to its finder is considered a spiritual experience, and such items are usually enchanted by a Brewer to make them unbreakable; they are also often enchanted with specific effects that the Chieftain or War Chief feels they have earned.

While not exactly a set tradition, many centaurs among the White Hoof tribe take to honoring their mother and father with a pair of gold rings in their right lobe or gold bracelets on their right wrist; siblings are honored in the same manner but with silver on the left side. Since there are no miners among the White Hoof, however, these items have to be traded for. It's one of the reasons they occasionally feel drawn to Essyrn.

Another distinctive cultural trait of White Hoof centaurs was actually adopted many centuries ago after encountering another culture; while the nature of that meeting has been forgotten, the distinction has not. Shallow conical caps are worn to protect the head from the sun, giving a bit of shade to the nomadic centaurs; the caps are usually about one to two feet in diameter and often lined with chitin for additional protection.

In Essyrn, centaurs of the White Hoof tribe almost always remain close to one another. They form an intimidating group, prompting most to stay away from them. White Hoof centaurs are surprisingly shrewd traders as well, which greatly helps in avoiding being deceived or treated unfairly - especially considering they never travel alone in the city.

White Hoof centaurs carry the bulk of their possessions upon their equine backs. They are very fast on solid ground or on sand, and they are considered second-to-none in terms of skill with lances, spears, and javelins. Every stallion or mare is expected to be able to hunt and fight, while colts and fillies are considered to be in training until they are mature and are not allowed to fight unless absolutely necessary. No member of the leadership is ever alone in their knowledge; there is always someone to take up their position should they fall. Most White Hoof centaurs know how to mix basic treatments for their wounds and basic antidotes for poisons or illnesses; anything more advanced, however, is typically reserved for a Brewer and their apprentice(s). While some White Hoof centaurs can also practice magic, only Shamans are considered to be fully proficient in it and anything more than minor spells that can be seamlessly woven into battle techniques and tactics or that have some daily utilitarian purpose are usually ignored by the general populace.

Tattoos are not merely aesthetic for centaurs of the White Hoof tribe. They are sometimes enchanted for one purpose or another but more importantly, whether they're enchanted or not, they always bear personal significance. Piercings are slightly more geared toward aesthetics but also typically bear personal significance.

Stallions among the White Hoof tribe are men; mares are women. Colts are boys, fillies are girls, and sireling (plural sirelings) is the term used to describe a child without calling out their gender. Siring is the term used to describe giving birth, while mother or fathering is the term used to describe rearing a child.

Kallippos is a stallion of the Asteri herd of the White Hoof tribe. He is one of the few allowed to wander alone on occasion; his duty to the herd is to scout ahead and warn them of potential dangers, alert them to resources and opportunities, and generally guide them safely to wherever they need to go. He is not the only Wayfinder among his herd, however, as per the White Hoof's cautious practice of redundancy among their ranks.

Magic/Abilities
Wind Listener: Being a scout and Wayfinder, this is considered an essential bit of magic to channel. By controlling his breathing and focusing his senses, he is able to channel magic through them in order to observe the world around him at great distance and with pinpoint accuracy. While channeling this magic, a soft breeze whips up around him and carries his senses out where he desires; it has a range of approximately ten miles, though existing wind can double this range.

Inventory

• Conical Cap: About 18" broad and bearing a small cone (about 8" broad) of chitin in the center atop it to protect the head. This is the only actual armor that Kallippos wears.
  
• Bone Choker: Enchanted to make it nearly indestructible, this choker tells the story of Kallippos' life; more bones are added as needed for etching new events. (See Physical Description, above.)
  
• Gold Earring x2: See Physical Description, above.
  
• Silver Earring x3: See Physical Description, above.
  
• Glass-Tipped Lance: The razor-sharp head of this weapon is a shard of glass taken from Seraj Isa. It has been enchanted by the Asteri herd's Brewer in multiple ways. First and foremost, it has been made indestructible (as is the standard for glass enchantment). It has also been coated (as has the rest of the lance) in a binding oil, preventing its removal from the rest of the lance and allowing certain enchantments to affect both the glass head and the lance as a whole. In particular, a coating of enchanted glass dust allows the lance to return to its owner's hand on a whim; a tattoo on the back of Kallippos' left hand binds this enchantment to him so that only he can wield it. And finally, the glass has been imbued with alchemical fire that causes severe burns to those whose blood touches it until the blood has been removed; to a victim of this lance, it feels like their blood is boiling inside them and their skin will blister and scorch the longer their blood touches the glass. Obviously, this makes a quick death a merciful outcome for those who stand against Kallippos. The lance stands about 10' long from butt to tip.
  
• Javelin x12: Worn on the back, it can be drawn and hurled at an enemy in one swift motion.
  
• Berserker's Elixir x5: Covers the imbiber in a sheen of tingling energy that acts as heavy armor, protecting them from blows and attacks strong enough to destroy granite. This is drunk in place of wearing armor for those who do not want the burden of armor or a shield slowing them down.
  
• Black Sand: Held in a leather pouch, this sand quickly heats up when exposed to sunlight. It is rubbed on open wounds to cauterize them, usually within about a minute. Good for approximately 100 treatments of minor wounds or 25 to 30 larger, more grievous wounds (only a very small amount is usually needed; a couple of pinches at most).
  
• Wound Kit: Consists of a thick bandage roll, thread, a couple of needles (one to use plus spares), a small vial of dissolving paste to hold cut thread in place, a sheathed razor for cutting thread, and a flask of alcohol far too potent to drink (for cleaning wounds quickly).
  
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Chelsika was disappointed when the mist started disappearing. They liked the mist, frankly. It was cool and refreshing and...aaaaand it's gone. But the librarian mentioned light as well. Hmmm...yeah, might be time to leave. They managed to get to a shelf on another wall of the room fairly quickly, but the boy was standing right there. Sixteen inches wasn't miniscule, so it was best to wait.

They sat down and pulled out one of the marbles to look at - the one with the red sand was the one that popped out first. Toying with it a bit, they accidentally dropped it on the carpet - and left a red stain when they picked it up. Experimentally, they put down the marble and picked it up again, and the stain was gone. Rolling it against the wood produced a similar effect, and Chelsika grinned broadly.

When the boy ran off to get the light, he left the door open.

Perfect!

Careful to avoid the librarian's gaze, Chelsika drew a lewd stick figure pic on the door with the red ink the marble produced. They stopped to admire their handiwork for a moment before realizing that they probably should not linger. Then, with another broad grin, they dashed out the door into the library proper before they could be caught. They quickly found the stacks and started looking for mischievous potential among them.

Between the squeal and the thickening of the mist as the librarian ruthlessly assaulted the defenseless mouse trap, Chelsika was quietly laughing. This woman would be pulling her hair out before the end. Thankfully, the mist in the room was blinding at this point. Chelsika stuck the cheese in another pocket, where they kept the string and other useful items in a separate pocket universe, and tried to catch their breath. It was a good thing no sound was coming out but not so good a thing that they were almost wheezing. It took a moment.

Finally, Chelsika reasoned where the other legs would be and swiftly made their way from one to another until they got close to the woman. They cupped their hands together over their mouth to muffle their voice slightly and spoke in a loud whisper.

"You make such lovely noises..."

And with that, they dashed away to stand under a chair, silently laughing. Their hair just brushed the underside of the chair, which was set rather low, and they leaned against one of its legs. This running about was tiring when they felt feverish, though the mist was helping greatly.

Chelsika was just starting to feel like maybe they could get up again - it was a debate - when the woman complained to Eldritch (or was it Elroy? Eh, one of them) and slammed the door. In the next moment, a strange mist began to fill the room. It even slipped betwixt the pots, covering and concealing the sprite. It clung to them but felt like...water? They rubbed down their skin with the mist, which actually helped to cool them off. After a moment, they sat up and took a couple deep breaths. Finally, they could get on their feet. They were still feverish, but at least they could move now. And they were probably a little cleaner, too.

Sneaking about the pots, they got a glimpse of the room. They could reach a curtain for a high window from here but couldn't see much else. Their hands were a bit shaky, but they figured they'd try it anyway. Leaping over to the curtain rod, they slipped off and caught themself on the curtain itself. Then they slid down until they hit the sill. Whew. They sat down behind the curtain and tried to think up another idea.

Illusions wouldn't work, apparently. They didn't know how to do that voice trick where you throw your voice somewhere, so that was out. As they were looking about, they saw something glinting on the floor far below...and grinned. A mouse trap. Of course. They got up and used the curtain to slide the rest of the way down. Sure enough, it was baited near a mouse hole with a small bit of cheese. Ever so carefully, they removed the cheese - and leapt out of sight behind a table leg as the trap shut with a loud and sudden SNAP!

Oh, a poltergeist, am I?

They did jump slightly at the scream but the startlement passed immediately and was quickly followed by grinning. Chelsika had to clap their hands over their mouth to prevent them from actually laughing out loud. Oh, this woman was gonna be fun to torment - especially since Chel had just spotted something very interesting at the back of this shelf: a tiny hole. It was a tight squeeze, but there were more loose nails behind the shelf. This thing hadn't been tended in quiet a while, and it had probably been built in haste. With this, they were able to climb alllll the way to the top and hide among the pottery stored up here.

They tried to move one of the pots but they were very heavy. There were times when being what Chel was did not please them - like this. Their particular variety of fae was swamp-born, you see, and carried all sorts of nasty illnesses. They were almost immune to many of them...but not quite. Yeah, they were definitely getting a fever again. They let out a quiet breath and rested for a few moments to regain their strength. That climb was tiring.

While they were sitting there, they quietly lifted the lid on one of the smaller jars. It was some kind of liquid incense; it smelled strongly of cinnamon. They quietly put the lid back down. One whiff of that was enough to spice the queen's tea, so to speak. Not that they minded the smell of cinnamon, but that was strong. They wondered what the other jars held. The whole room was starting to smell of cinnamon now just from that brief opening.

Wrinkling their nose a bit, they looked about and saw a bit of ribbon sticking out of each of several of the books. They were clearly meant as markers, but they were soft and silky and perfect for handkerchiefs of the more luxurious variety. So Chelsika picked a red one and awkwardly reached up to tug it down a bit. The woman was focusing so much on arranging and counting the logs that had been dropped that they probably didn't notice one of the books moving as Chelsika followed this thought to its logical conclusion; they then stuffed the ribbon back inside the book so that it wasn't hanging out like the other ribbons. They felt a little better now.

It was starting to get very warm back here, though; well, either that, or a fever was starting to pick up again - probably both. Wiping their forehead on their sleeve, clearing away some of the secreted poison from their skin, they began slowly pushing out a book on the end of their current shelf. It fell with a loud thump, though unfortunately in such a manner that it merely lay there as though placed rather than dropping haphazardly like some of the original group.

Then a second book dropped, spread-eagle on the floor, right next to the first.

And then a third. And a fourth. And a fifth.

Frowning, they tried to weave together an illusion of eyes peeking out from amid the books that remained - large, dark eyes barely visible in the shadows that blinked a couple of times before winking out of existence - and make child-like laughter be heard coming from somewhere distant, yet at the same time, almost seeming to be in the room itself somewhere. Yet again, these simple illusions fell apart as soon as they formed. Now they were frustrated as well as potentially feverish. Chelsika pushed a couple more books forward a wee bit without dropping them and sat down slightly more comfortably behind them. They also had a better view from behind the remaining books than they'd had before.

Gee, she's mean, thought the strange little fae to themself.

Thinking for a moment, Chelsika grinned. The "rope" was still up and the next shelf also held books. Since their magic wouldn't work properly in here, it seemed - typical mages, likely putting up some kind of shield against magic - they would just have to be extra quiet. Chelsika waited until they were sure the woman wasn't looking in their general direction before moving. They climbed quickly and pulled the string up after them while the librarian's back was turned. They were about to set their plan in motion when a tingle caused them to sneeze. It was a quiet sound, but the store room was very quiet. Nonetheless, the action shook off their illusion. In the blink of an eye, they ducked betwixt a couple of leaning books and slipped behind one of them.

If the librarian's ears were sharp, or even they weren't, she probably heard that. It was a tight fit back here but Chelsika was concealed for the moment. Peeking through a tiny gap, they watched to see what the librarian would do next. If she didn't react - and she might not, considering how motherly she was being toward those books right now - Chelsika would proceed to see just how much they could annoy this ginormous woman.