Advertise/Affiliate Other Forum Main Page The World Before You Play
Menu

Show posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.

Show posts Menu

Topics - Zero

#1
Was it really possible to be filled with righteous indignation while one was dying? You would have to assume if a being were truly dying they would be too preoccupied with more pressing matters than feeling insulted and humiliated. Ketu was choosing to assume that his level of outrage was indicative that, no matter how badly wounded and battered his body was, death was not imminent. The alternative was positively unacceptable. As a dragon his destiny was clearly something far greater than dying young before he had managed to achieve any true greatness.

Future greatness aside, Ketu focused on his walk of shame, although it was more of a limp and stumble, much to his aggravation. Each step was punctuated with a soft chorus of distressed grumbles.  He could barely let his left foreleg touch the ground without a lancing pain shooting all the way through the limb, and putting weight on it was simply out of the question. Numerous sets of gashes, clearly caused by claws, were scattered across his body, a particularly deep slash across the outside of his right hind leg was producing a steady stream of blood. The rest were not as deep and they only slowly oozed blood that eventually dripped onto the earth of The Thunderblacks.

A screech split the air and a shadow zipped past him, causing Ketu to jerk his head up and nervously scan the sky. The victor of the territory dispute was apparently surveying his prize. He tried to move faster, not wishing to give the other dragon reason to attack him again. As badly wounded as he was he knew he probably would not survive another fight just then. It galled him, but wounded pride was better than dead, so he limped away as quickly as he was able.

Ketu lost track of time, and with each pained step his ego grew less important. The farther from the bloodstained battleground he moved the less important his loss seemed next to his survival. He did not enough know how far he managed to flee. It was undoubtedly still The Thunderblacks, but the young dragon did not know this place. He could not recognize any landmarks when he did manage the energy to raise his head. Raising his head actually took great effort by that point and his foreleg could no longer even touch the ground without causing unbearable pain – even the small movements caused by his labored gait were almost too much to endure. His badly damaged rear limb was being half-dragged, barely able to press on, and then suddenly taking even one more step seemed impossible.

No amount of pride could have kept Ketu on his feet, the dragon collapsed heavily, body trembling as his breath came out in ragged pants. He let himself rest for a few moments before forcing himself to crawl towards the shelter of some large boulders. It would be hard for other dragons to see him in his vulnerable condition if he hid in the shadows of the great rocks. He could stay even more hidden if his form was smaller and of a less interesting shape. It took the last of Ketu's energy to summon enough magic to shift his form from that of a dragon to a human.

Most dragons would pay little mind to an injured human hidden within the shadows of craggy boulders, right? Ketu tried to position himself in the least painful way that he could manage before closing his eyes wearily. All he needed was some rest; he would heal given enough time. He did not even consider how such a heavily injured man laying naked next to some large rocks might look to beings that were not dragons. Such thoughts were hardly his concern as he lost consciousness.
#2
Sionad Tundra and Valleys / Snowdrift Dreams [Jadd] [M]
November 01, 2019, 07:29:23 AM
Nisha bolted upright, tears burning her eyes as her fingers feebly clawed at the hand that wasn't actually there as she gasped for breath. It took several moments, her eyes darting around in terror, but eventually she lowered her hands from her neck to clasp them over her heart as it raced and stuttered beneath her breast. Slowly her breathing regulated from gasping pants to something almost normal. It was just another nightmare, of course it was. That didn't stop it from feeling so very real. Every time she closed her eyes she could feel his bruising hand around her throat, could see his malicious smirking face hovering above her, and hear his grunts and growls. Her stomach clenched in fear and the ghostly echoes of pain.

When her heart finally settled she was able to start pulling her mind back to reality. Focusing her ears on the soft sounds inside the lodge helped. Her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, and some of those who were awake when she drifted to sleep were still awake now. She knew she had not slept very long, it was not surprising. Dark circles about her weary eyes were a constant, as Nisha had never been able to sleep peacefully, and it had only gotten worse since she had met him.

She had managed to get a ship to take her to Hyoite, and when she left the ship she'd been able to find kindly people willing to let her go with them from settlement to settlement in the vast snowy tundra. It was surprising just how many compassionate and generous people she had stumbled upon since beginning her journey of escape. She had not grown fat on the mercy of others by any means, but they had not let her starve either. They seemed content to help her in exchange for even small tasks, she had helped mend heavy fur parkas and boots and learned how to cook the meats that these hearty people hunted – or fished.

Nisha was very grateful for everything they had done for her, and she felt guilty for not doing enough to truly earn her way so deep into the region. It made her guilt even worse when she realized that she was antsy and impatient. The people with their teams of sled dogs were not progressing very quickly. She couldn't really blame them for the frequent stops at available lodges and for not pushing through when it grew dark and extra cold – it was dark for so long and they told her that for part of the year the sun did not shine for months at a time!

Tonight that all-consuming need to get away was too much to bear. It didn't matter that he was hundreds of miles away, maybe even thousands, it was not far enough. Nisha knew at this point what she was running from was inside her head and could not actually be escaped, but she was beyond reason or caring because her fear was simply too strong.

They did try to talk her out of leaving as she put on the thick boots and snowshoes, but nothing could sway her decision. Their arguments were sound and she felt bad ignoring their warnings. She didn't know the way, she would get lost, it was too dangerous, but she didn't care about the risks.

She had to get away.

Even with the snowshoes traveling across the deep and endless fields of snow was a laborious task, one that Nisha had to stop to catch her breath and slow her straining heart frequently. She would press on after every resting break. There was no real thought behind it, just the primal terror driving her onwards further and further from her nightmares. Miles upon miles of white glittering snow under moonlight, all signs of civilization gone, and Nisha had no idea if she was even heading towards the next settlement or not at this point. She had lost the feeling her in fingers and toes at least a mile ago, and the numbing chill was only creeping further and deeper with each trundling step.

Hours after she had set out, Nisha reached a point where she simply couldn't take another step. Her legs would not obey her. She sank down to the ground, or at least the upper layers of snow, she wasn't sure just how deep it was, and closed her eyes as she waited for her strength to return. Except it didn't, but she wasn't really aware of it as her body collapsed fully, eyes unable to open, and mind drifting into darkness.
#3
The Thunderblacks / The Downfall of Pride [Jadd]
September 13, 2019, 05:32:22 PM
Was it really possible to be filled with righteous indignation while one was dying? You would have to assume if a being were truly dying they would be too preoccupied with more pressing matters than feeling insulted and humiliated. Ketu was choosing to assume that his level of outrage was indicative that, no matter how badly wounded and battered his body was, death was not imminent. The alternative was positively unacceptable. As a dragon his destiny was clearly something far greater than dying young before he had managed to achieve any true greatness.

Future greatness aside, Ketu focused on his walk of shame, although it was more of a limp and stumble, much to his aggravation. Each step was punctuated with a soft chorus of distressed grumbles.  He could barely let his left foreleg touch the ground without a lancing pain shooting all the way through the limb, and putting weight on it was simply out of the question. Numerous sets of gashes, clearly caused by claws, were scattered across his body, a particularly deep slash across the outside of his right hind leg was producing a steady stream of blood. The rest were not as deep and they only slowly oozed blood that eventually dripped onto the earth of The Thunderblacks.

A screech split the air and a shadow zipped past him, causing Ketu to jerk his head up and nervously scan the sky. The victor of the territory dispute was apparently surveying his prize. He tried to move faster, not wishing to give the other dragon reason to attack him again. As badly wounded as he was he knew he probably would not survive another fight just then. It galled him, but wounded pride was better than dead, so he limped away as quickly as he was able.

Ketu lost track of time, and with each pained step his ego grew less important. The farther from the bloodstained battleground he moved the less important his loss seemed next to his survival. He did not enough know how far he managed to flee. It was undoubtedly still The Thunderblacks, but the young dragon did not know this place. He could not recognize any landmarks when he did manage the energy to raise his head. Raising his head actually took great effort by that point and his foreleg could no longer even touch the ground without causing unbearable pain – even the small movements caused by his labored gait were almost too much to endure. His badly damaged rear limb was being half-dragged, barely able to press on, and then suddenly taking even one more step seemed impossible.

No amount of pride could have kept Ketu on his feet, the dragon collapsed heavily, body trembling as his breath came out in ragged pants. He let himself rest for a few moments before forcing himself to crawl towards the shelter of some large boulders. It would be hard for other dragons to see him in his vulnerable condition if he hid in the shadows of the great rocks. He could stay even more hidden if his form was smaller and of a less interesting shape. It took the last of Ketu's energy to summon enough magic to shift his form from that of a dragon to a human.

Most dragons would pay little mind to an injured human. Ketu tried to position himself in the least painful way that he could manage before closing his eyes wearily. All he needed was some rest; he would heal given enough time. He did not even consider how such a heavily injured man laying naked next to some large rocks might look to beings that were not dragons. Such thoughts were hardly his concern as he lost consciousness.
#4
Adela / Ketu; Dragon
September 06, 2019, 01:56:12 PM
BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Ketu
Gender: Male
Age: Young Adult
Height: 5' 11"
Build: Average
Race: Storm Dragon
Residence: The Thunderblacks


PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Art: Ketu Human Form
Art Credit:  Aeollon

Art: Ketu Dragon Form
Art Credit:  noebelle
   


PERSONALITY

Ketu is prideful in nature, but is still immature and insecure making him as chaotic as the storms he can manipulate. His youth and inexperience make him act rashly and without thinking things through appropriately. It is his ambition and pride that drive him to stake his claim in the world, one way or another.



SKILLS

Air, Water, and Lightning elemental manipulation, or weather magic to put it simply.



RELATIONSHIPS

Loner – as soon as he was old enough to fend for himself he has done so and has not formed any bonds or connections with any other sentient beings.



BACKSTORY

There isn't a great deal to tell about Ketu's first century or so of life. He was born in The Thunderblacks, as so many dragon hatchlings are. His early years were spent quarreling with his brood mates, learning how to hunt for food and defend himself. Once he was old enough to be considered a teenager he began further developing his magical abilities. His species is small compared to some others and they are not fire breathers. Ketu honed his affinity for water, air, and lightning.

Once he began approaching young adulthood he broke away from his nesting grounds and went his separate way from his surviving siblings. He has been struggling to carve out his own territory and gaining any kind of treasure trove.
#5
Serendipity / Amalia; The Imprisoned
July 21, 2019, 12:14:18 PM
BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Amalia
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Height: 5' 4"
Build: Slim, slightly pear
Race: Human
Nationality: Serenian
Residence: Caldera Elysium Valley


PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Art: Amalia
Art Credit:  yagaminoue

A beautiful, fair skinned young maiden with long platinum blonde hair and eyes such a light shade of brown they appear almost golden.



PERSONALITY

If you can't trust your own parents then who can you trust? Absolutely no one, and that's exactly who Amalia trusts. Life has been cruel and full of hardships, and she's still so young. Deep down she has a sweet, gentle, loving, curious soul, but none of those things were helpful to keeping her alive, and so she buries those weak traits in favor of suspicion and hypervigilance. Those are the things that have kept her alive to this point and it is those she relies on, clinging to them with a desperate bitterness.



SKILLS

Amalia is very good with turning plain scraps of wood into intricate and beautiful decorations – totems, beads, miniature sculptures, and even designs on wooden furniture.


RELATIONSHIPS

Her Parents – They are dead to her and she would not speak their names.



BACKSTORY

Amalia was born in a small village in western Serendipity. Her family was poor, most of the time barely scraping by enough to survive. It didn't help that her father was too fond of the drink and her mother was loose with her skirts. She doesn't have siblings, but only because none of the others actually made it. The others succumbed to starvation, illness, or straight up neglect. If it wasn't for the kindness and generosity of strangers Amalia wouldn't have survived either. As soon as she was old enough she begged on the street – mostly for food. If she was actually given money her father would simply take it to buy more ale.

Getting scraps of food was easier as a younger child, but each year became harder to gain pity from travelers. After all, she was growing into just another societal leech. Amalia was terrified of turning to what her mother did to get by. She didn't want to sell her body just to eat. It was fortunate for her that she was creative and good with her hands. At first she had only made little wooden decorations for the fun of it, but when people actually showed interest and liked them she began selling the small carved totems to buy food.

When her father found out he started demanding she give her profits to him, because she was his child and that meant anything she earned was owed to him. Amalia disagreed and they had an actual violent fight over it. A slave caravan came through their village on the way to Connlaoth and her father sold her to them despite it being illegal – the slavers certainly didn't care about the law. She watched her father heading towards the tavern as soon as he was paid, while men dragged her kicking and screaming to one of their cages. Her life had never been glamorous, or even good, but it had been hers. Now Amalia is determined to escape her captors and be free from not only them, but her terrible parents, and anyone else that would try to use or control her.
#6
Arca / Business IS Pleasure [Dragonsong]
July 09, 2019, 03:49:32 AM
It was a quiet night, for the most part. Of course his nights were as busy or as quiet as he chose most of the time. Roman saw his only client of the night to the door, a middle-aged, but attractive woman who wore fine clothes that were hardly disguised by the slightly worn wool cloak and hood she hid behind. With a soft kiss on the back of her hand, he bid her good night, and watched as she hurried down the street while still attempting to hide her face from any witnesses.

Roman gently shut the door before turning to enter the sitting room just off the foyer. He always had a well-stocked alcohol cart there for entertaining his guests. With a glass of red wine poured he settled contently down on his sofa, sipping quietly as he stared into the fireplace. He had left tonight mostly free so that he could relax, but taking a night off seemed so boring, so he already regretted his decision not to schedule more clients. It was always this way. The incubus would convince himself that he should take a night for himself, then immediately regretted it. Could he really be blamed for always wanting to work when his job was just so enjoyable?

Well it was too late now. Roman would just have to survive the quiet solitude until the morning.
#7
Sirantil Valley / Sir, yes, Sir! [Yuhsemite]
May 26, 2019, 08:01:44 PM
Chase had never wanted to leave home. He liked his simple farm boy status and lifestyle. They hadn't asked for his opinion. Luckily for him, he was used to waking early and working extremely hard, the boy had taken to his Mordecai training like a fish to water.

Sure, things had been tense when he'd been drafted at sixteen. Some of the boys that joined around the same time to the same training group were from high up families and they'd looked down their noses at the simple farm boy. That farm boy had walloped them good, though. He didn't much care for fighting, but he wasn't one to lie down and take shit from people that thought they were better than him either.

Plus he had the advantage of being used to a rougher regimen. The soft rich boys learned that his commoner background didn't keep him from being just as good (or better) of a soldier.

That's what they all were now as they finished buckling armor and gear in place for a line up. Three years of training and they were deemed competent enough to do actual soldiering. Chase hustled to the yard, taking his place with the others as they filed in. Now that they could serve properly his troop was getting a new commander. One that could lead them out of the shallows and in to the deep end, so to speak, and that was why they all got into formation. They had to greet their new commanding officer.
#8
Plotting Center / Have some characters!
May 03, 2019, 12:53:38 PM
Hiwa Ahuja; Temple Priestess
Location: Thanatos
Looking For: Possibly trouble, she is naive and has pretty special powers.

Zimayi; Slave
Location: Essyrn
Looking For: A master, beyond that, no clue!

Sahara; Werewolf
Location: Anywhere
Looking For: Anything, really. She is a werewolf that likes to travel and heal people.

Serrah Cuchulainn, Herbal Healer
Location: Adela
Looking For: No idea. She's a stationary healer, with a family that she isn't planning to leave, but things don't always go as planned. Who knows. Give me ideas, because I am really clueless.
#9
Adela / Etu Firebound; Dragon Rider
April 05, 2019, 06:24:38 AM
BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Etu Firebound
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Pansexual
Age: 29
Height: 6' 4"
Build: Muscular
Race: Human
Nationality: Adelan
Occupation: Dragon Rider
Residence: Ketra, Adela


PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Art: Etu Firebound
Art Credit:  LAS-T

Quite tall, but not bulky, Etu is long and lean, years of hard training has covered his frame in well-defined muscles. Coppery tanned skin is rough, with callouses on his hands from working with tools and his weapons. Here and there you'll run across faint scars along his body, none particularly serious as he has yet to be grievously wounded. They are from skirmishes with Duhjari and even from sparring, as they rarely take it easy on one another.

Straight, silky dark brown hair, with very faint copper undertones, falls almost to his waist, though he tends to keep most of it pulled up in a high ponytail. That doesn't keep a small bit of it from often escaping and falling into his orange eyes, although flecks of a golden yellow can also be seen when peering into them. They have often been commented to remind people of flames.

Etu possesses a handsome face, if a bit long. His cheekbones and jaw are angular with a strong chin and serious slant to his mouth. The warrior's eyebrows are thinner and more delicate than one might expect, as is his nose. Tattoos are prominent on his face. Intricate designs in golden ink form a thin sort of mask over the right side of his upper face, crossing over his nose, and ending under his left eye. In the same golden ink is a line over his bottom lip down his chin.

Preferring to remain as tribal as possible in his clothing choices, Etu often leaves his chest bare when he can get away with it. Whatever clothing starts at his waist down is generally made of soft leathers or fibers and he also enjoys going barefoot when possible.



PERSONALITY

Fire tends to lend people to think of chaos, flitting, and uncontrolled. Those things couldn't be further from the truth. Etu may have been gifted with fire, but fire in no way controls or defines him. He is the least hot-headed person you will find. Some have commented that he has more in common with stone than flame.

Etu is steadfast and proud of his heritage, both the older tribal lineage and his place as an Adelan and a dragon rider. The thing is he is not vocal about it. Truthfully this particular warrior isn't vocal about much of anything. You might have an easier time pulling teeth from a grumpy dragon than get this guy to hold a casual chat. He isn't unfriendly. It is just that he rarely feels like there is anything he needs to say outside of barking orders or signals to fellow soldiers or riders.

Like many Adelans, Etu is very spiritual and deeply superstitious. He especially reveres dragon and fire spirits, for somewhat obvious reasons, but he will show great respect at any shrine he comes across. It is not unheard of him to actually pause a journey so that he may pay his respects to local spirits and shrines so that they will not be offended at being ignored and may grant him their boons and blessings.



SKILLS

Beastspeaking: The psychic ability to commune with animals – most notably dragons.

Fire Immunity: Etu is immune to fire and heat in general. He knows things are hot, but it simply doesn't matter to him.

Firestarter: Creating and controlling flame is a cinch, and how he earned the name Firebound.



RELATIONSHIPS

Brimstone the Lava Eater: This dragon has a higher heat threshold than any other breed, for he is truly a lava dragon, most at home basking within the magma chambers of active volcanos. His scales look like jagged volcanic rock and sand. Between the scales is a bright mix of orange, red, and yellow, giving this behemoth the appearance of being a living creature crafted of molten lava. A true dragon, he possesses four legs and two wings.

Dragon Riders: His comrades-in-arms. Etu respects and trusts his fellow riders, for the most part, but probably does not think himself particularly close to any of them.



BACKSTORY

Etu hails from a deeply tribal village in rural Adela. He was always fascinated by fire, and it was discovered early that his childish curiosity did not earn him burns as it had many children before him. Because of his affinity with this common element of dragons, and his ability to communicate with them, he was selected to go train with the dragon riders before he even reached puberty.

The boy was a natural born warrior, and he pushed himself hard. His fascination with flame easily turned to an almost zealous devotion to dragons. Years of training earned him the right to attempt to become a dragon rider.

Brimstone bonded with him and he joined the ranks of Adela's most dangerous and feared military force.

Etu has been a man with a single-minded dedication ever since. While he technically resides in Ketra, as do many of his fellow riders, he prefers to be flying high over the terrain all across Adela. He is definitely one of those 'married to his work' kind of men.
#10
Plotting Center / Island Plots
April 04, 2019, 01:30:59 PM
Hiwa Ahuja belongs to the Temple in Suna, Thanatos. She's a young, non-native looking Thanati girl thanks to mainlander blood on her father's side. Hiwa is kind, gentle, and naive. Also definitely at an age where the matchmaker is probably starting to give her the side-eye.

Other cool things? She has holy life magic with healing and small weird luck stuff! Uhm...I don't have any solid plot ideas yet, so please throw some plots and characters at me so we can hopefully work something out for this sweet island girl.

Also I am totally open to her being forcibly removed from her island home! Having to face the big, scary world outside of Thanatos under duress might be fun.
#11
Thanatos / Hiwa Ahuja; Temple Priestess
April 02, 2019, 01:41:43 PM
BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Hiwa Ahuja
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Height: 5'4"
Build: Slight
Race: Human?
Occupation: Temple Priestess
Nationality: Thanati
Residence: Suna, Thanatos


PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Art: Hiwa
Art Credit:  LanWu

The only truly Thanati characteristic about Hiwa is that she is a short woman. Her hair is a rich dark brown with a faint wave, and her eyes are almost dark enough to be black. Neither is a common trait for true islanders. The woman's fair skin also stands out like a sore thumb.

Hiwa has a soft face, with large almond shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and pouty lips. Her shoulders are narrow, with a full bosom, curved hips, and slight waist. Around the outside of her ears she enjoys wearing golden cuffs and her ears are pierced. However, she has no other body modifications or decorative tattoos, which is considered somewhat unusual.



PERSONALITY

Hiwa is as polite and reserved as the next Thanati. Honor, duty, family, and of course Inima are the primary driving factors and values in her life. She is kind-hearted and good natured, but naturally wary of outsiders and untouchables. A strong sense of curiosity and willingness to learn make her grateful for the opportunities the Temple has given her.



MAGIC
Holy Radiance: Hiwa has an aura surrounding her. It is not something visible to most, but the young woman radiates a calm, gentle holy presence. Animals normally skittish around humans do not fear her. Even the most aggressive stray village dogs do not bite her. She has never been scratched by a cat or stung by a bee. This unwillingness to cause her harm even extends to some people. Wilting flowers are rejuvenated and bloom all the larger and brighter. Sick or injured individuals start to feel better faster.

Healing Touch: Since she was born Hiwa has been able to lay her hands on the sick and injured to make them better. This is a far more intense and direct healing than her simple aura. She can't cure a gash or broken bone like it never happened, instead she accelerates the natural healing process. A cut can look as if it is several days old, disappear completely, or form a scar, depending on how long she channels her holy power into the patient and if the wound would naturally scar or not.

This ability can be dangerous for her, however. The energy to mend such wounds comes from her own reserves and it drains her. Trying to completely heal serious injuries can leave her exhausted and feeling unwell. If she gave too much of herself she could even die.

Threads of Fate: Certainly the hardest gift to truly explain. Imagine that every living thing – whether human, creature, or plant – has a shining golden thread connected to them, and that all these threads are woven together in the tapestry that is Fate. They can weave, tangle, and intertwine with one another drawing together to form a shared destiny.

When Hiwa was born, imagine a knot was formed in this constantly weaving, unweaving, and reweaving tapestry. This knot draws in and tangles everything around it. She is far from the only knot in the threads of Fate, but she is certainly a knot in the pattern. This manifests in unfathomable and innumerable ways, not only impacting her but everyone and everything around her.  Some might consider this a strange form of Luck. For example, during a thunderstorm lightning struck a tree outside her home seven consecutive times. A gambler might throw only winning rolls or they could unfailingly strike out. It is neither good nor bad Luck – strange things that could almost be considered coincidences just happen to occur when she is near. Once a child climbed a tall tree and fell from the tallest branches all the way to the ground only to get up and walk away completely unharmed. The next day a man stumbled off his steps and broke his neck.

The key things to know are that this is a completely passive gift she has no control over and that small, odd, random things happen around her.



RELATIONSHIPS

Ashe Ahuja: Her mother, alive and well on Ruka.
Soren Falk: Her father, alive and well on Ruka.



BACKSTORY

Born on the island Ruka. Hiwa was a miracle child. Her mother is a Thanati weaver and her father was a Serenian merchant that visited the island and stubbornly never left after falling in love with the local culture – and a local woman. They tried for several years to have a child together, but all attempts ended in miscarriages and heartache. Some said it proved that the relationship was cursed, and that Ashe was at fault for marrying a foreigner.

The very last pregnancy of Ashe, she managed to keep the baby all the way to term, but her daughter was born not breathing. Both parents held their unresponsive newborn and prayed harder than they had ever prayed before, and after five minutes, Hiwa took her first gasping breath, followed by her well-earned first wail.

Ashe never conceived again, but was content that she had finally managed to have even one child of her own. Strange things began happening almost immediately to the small family. It was nothing major, just odd little coincidences. When Hiwa was a toddler was when the real discovery was made. Her father suffered a bite from a deadly snake. He was laid in his bed and showed signs of succumbing to the venom, but his daughter lay on his chest and cried inconsolably. Soren got better and Hiwa became very weak and ill. Her parents tended to her for three days before she finally recovered and began acting like a normal child again.

Shortly after that incident they were persuaded to give their daughter to the Temple. Healing gifts were very rare, and the child was clearly blessed.

From that point on Hiwa's life has been spent in service to the Temple. Her parents, though they miss her, consider it an honor for her to have such a life. She has gotten a very fine education, especially once moved to the capitol city.
#12
It was a dreary day. The sky was overcast and a cold rain drizzled down over Moonspear. Dirt and dust had churned into a hazardous mud on the unpaved smaller roads that twisted and turned to every far reach of the kingdom and beyond. A careless step would get you a sprained ankle or even worse, a horse with an injured leg. If such a fall didn't bring harm to both mount and rider, that was. This was one of those days where if you weren't careful you'd get your wagon or carriage wheels stuck and end up having to dig yourself out.

Victoria didn't like days like this, but she didn't hate them either. Mud caked the hooves of the blue roan gelding she was riding down the cobbled streets of a small city that fell along the border of Moonspear and Jadenshine. Her clothes and armor remained dry thanks to a heavy leather cloak that had a thick coat of wax on the outside to repeal the insistent droplets. The rain and whether wet or dry was far from her mind, however.

All the soldier could think about was an envelope tucked safely inside a waterproof pouch at her side. It was a summons. A member of the Aethaam – what a fancy name – was requesting her presence at their domicile. They had offered her a position as a bodyguard with a promise that if she did a fine job that the reward would be patronage toward knighthood. She knew that they were a noble family, and that was really all she knew of them. It didn't matter much to her. One noble family was as good as another if they were willing to let them serve her and earn the right to be knighted.

She wasn't so sure about the bodyguard part, but it was just staying close to someone and making sure they didn't get killed. How hard could it be? A time doing a less than thrilling job was worth it in the long run if it got her closer to her goal. If she served the family well it could mean a fairly comfortable and respectable life.

The estate was impressive – most noble estates did look pretty daunting to a bumpkin like her. She produced the summons to be allowed past the gates and rode through up to the front entrance. A stable hand, she assumed, took the reins of her horse when she dismounted. The door was opened by a servant when she knocked, and they took her cloak before asking her to wait while her patron was informed that she had arrived.

Victoria stood silently in the foyer, hands clasped behind her back. Her dark brown eyes were the only part of her that moved, roaming over what of the home she could see from her current location.
#13
Draconi Forest / Forever on the Run [DragonSong][M]
March 26, 2019, 07:32:43 PM
He'd done it! Again.

Mikhail had lost count of the times he had run away from this master, let alone the number of times he had run across every single master that had owned him the last decade. It never mattered how many times he made a break for freedom, it was always snatched away from him far too quickly. He was bitter about that fact, among so many others.

The dark metal collar around his neck felt like a giant weight, the few links of thick chain hanging from it rattled as he ran through the forest, red eyes well suited for seeing in the deep dark. Behind him, and gaining, were the howls and bays of hounds. His master hadn't wasted any time sending hunters to fetch him back. They were annoyingly persistent, and he was flagging with exhaustion. It was entirely the stupid collar's fault. He could never truly escape unless he could find a way to get the blasted thing off his neck. It drained his strength and blocked his magic power.

Mikhail heard an alarmingly close howl and turned his head, eyes darting through shadows behind him, trying to spot his pursuers. Those few  moments not paying attention to what was in front of him caused him to stumble right over a bank, falling to his hands and knees in a creek, breath coming out in ragged pants.

His thoughts had been so consumed with fleeing the slave hadn't even noticed that he'd run straight towards someone's camp, apparently. Mikhail looked up, noticing that there was someone there, and cried out in fright.

"Please, help me!" Asking for help wasn't something he relished doing, but what choice did he have? He was desperate enough to hope this stranger would be willing to aid him.
#14
Wanderers and Independents / Mikhail; Slave
March 26, 2019, 06:34:15 PM
BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Mikhail Mordeth
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown
Height: 5'7"
Build: Slight
Race: Vampire / Demon hybrid
Sexuality: Not Picky
Nationality: Unknown
Residence: Wherever his Master says he lives!


PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Mikhail looks remarkably like his father, a man he's never met.

A very pale complexion, narrow foxlike face, lightly pointed ears, and almond shaped eyes make him almost a spitting image of his sire. They have the same willowy, seemingly fragile build, and they stand the same height. Mikhail has inky black hair that is just long enough to fall into his eyes, which are a bright crimson red.



PERSONALITY

A lifetime of slavery has left Mikhail bitter, guarded, and untrusting. He yearns for freedom more than most other things, probably more than anything except finding his family.



SKILLS

Umbramancy: Mikhail is first and foremost a shadow magic user. His abilities center on solidifying shadows into weapons and melting into the shadows, jumping from one shadow to another as a form of teleportation.

Pyromancy: A secondary magic for Mikhail. He is much weaker in controlling fire, but he can imbue his shadow weapons with flames to make them even deadlier, fire cannot burn him, and while he won't be able to produce raging infernos he can light and snuff small flames like candles and campfires.



RELATIONSHIPS

Master: Whoever owns him at any given time!



BACKSTORY

Mikhail, like his fraternal twin Nikolai, was born and raised in slavery. Not much is known about his origins, not even to his first master who had owned his mother at the time of his birth. The twins were separated and sold to different buyers as soon as they were old enough to survive without their mother.

He has not seen his mother or brother since.

The hybrid child changed hands plenty of times over the years, he doesn't know how old he is and really doesn't care. Some masters were nicer than others, but all of them were still his oppressors, and as such, deeply hated. He has attempted to run away many times, but unsuccessfully. Mikhail is always recaptured fairly quickly, despite his best efforts. The reason for his failure is likely a magic suppressing collar that prevents him from using magic and physically weakens him.
#15
La'marri / Sunshine and Roses [Goblin]
February 28, 2019, 04:14:54 PM
It was still very dark in the small upstairs bedroom when the pile of blankets began to stir, a few minutes of soft, rustling movements before the covers were pushed aside so that Jordan could sit up, rubbing at their eyes sleepily. A new day was only a couple hours away from greeting them with a bright, sunny dawn and that meant it was more than time to wake up and get started. There was always so much to do, especially now that they were doing it alone, but they never complained and truly didn't mind staying so busy. If they were so busy all the time there was no time to get lonely or worry about things that couldn't be helped.

Humming softly, Jordan stretched before climbing out of bed and immediately turning to make it back up again. Some people thought making the bed in the morning was pointless, but they found that it was very nice in the evening, after a long day of work, to have a tidy bed that they could turn down the covers and crawl in to have some well-earned snuggles with their pillow.

With the bed made, it was time to go to the wash basin and freshen up, washing their face and hands, then scrubbing their teeth with a minty solution before rinsing. The longest part of getting ready began when they started brushing the long red curls free of tangles, running the bristles through the strands again and again until they were silky and smooth.  Jordan decided to tie his hair back with a pretty green headscarf with blue roses today; a matching apron went on after his soft brown breeches and grey linen shirt.

Finally they painted their eyes, making the blue truly shine. Jordan admired their reflection in the mirror for only a minute, quite pleased with how they looked today, but there wasn't time for lingering vanity. The greenhouse was humming when they entered. It was a soft, gentle hum that only they seemed to hear, but they knew the plants were happy and eager to greet the rising sun.

Jordan sang to them lovingly while they watered and tended to them. The rest of the pre-dawn was consumed with taking care of the plants that they adored more than other people. Once the sun was up and smiling the greenhouse became hot and humid, it could even be called muggy. With those chores done they delicately dabbed away a few beads of sweat from their brow and retreated to the cooler interior of the shop. That needed attention too. Shelves were dusted and merchandise was carefully arranged and restocked before the floors were meticulously swept. It was hard to keep dirt off the floors given the nature of their business, but nobody could accuse Jordan of not trying!

At last they unlocked the doors and took the welcoming sign to set up out front. They left the door propped open invitingly as they practically skipped back inside, humming all the while. Today was going to be another good day.

They could feel it.
#16
Sirantil Valley / Family Business [Goblin]
February 27, 2019, 11:11:47 AM
Julia was no stranger to weddings, certainly not to noble weddings. She had attended her eldest brother's and had participated in her older sister's wedding. Both had been arranged as well, and her two younger brothers would also undoubtedly have their wives chosen for them. That was just the way the world worked when you were the child of a Lord like her father. She didn't resent him for it, even as she suffered silently through hours of preparation.

That didn't make being in a foreign country easier. All her life she had known the day would come where she would be given to a complete stranger, would be expected to perform certain wifely duties and functions, and to provide him with children. Julia had just thought for sure that the man would be Serenian and that she would not have to leave Serendipity. Connlaoth might as well have been another world entirely. These people were so different and strange. She did not know the customs and expectations facing her in this new land.

It was enough to make her almost feel faint.

Perhaps the dress also played a part. White silk, lace, and diamonds were the materials, with a fitted bodice that accentuated her fine figure and elegant skirts that weren't unwieldy in their bulk. Her clothes were always extravagant, but her mother had gone to great lengths to make certain her wedding dress was perfect, and to remind her over and over again that her marriage was important to the family and that she needed to be a good wife.

Surely the stress of the unknown was another factor. What was her soon to be husband even like? All she knew was his name. Ithel Conlaoch, what kind of man was he? Was he kind? Gentle? Was he as preoccupied with business as her father? Would he be indifferent to her presence beyond her expected functions? What did he even look like?

Before she even knew it, Julia found herself holding to her father's arm, her bouquet of white roses in her other hand, as the chapel doors opened. Her nerves were strained as she forced her best smile, trying very hard not to make eye contact with the dozens and dozens of gazes that had come to rest on her. One such gaze belonged to the man would be her husband very, very shortly.

Her father began leading her down the aisle.

I can do this. This is perfectly normal. What does it matter that I've never met him? This is business, family business.

What if he doesn't like me?


Too soon she was at the altar, her father passing her to Ithel solemnly. She looked up at him, but not his eyes. Julia had never been more nervous and unsettled in her life, and she was honestly afraid of meeting his eyes and finding some flicker of disappointment there.

Julia had to be a good wife.
#17
La'marri / Jordan Harper; Herbalist and Apothecary
February 26, 2019, 01:44:43 PM
BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Jordan Harper
Gender: Genderqueer
Age: 24
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 133 lbs
Race: Human - Fae
Sexuality: Pansexual
Nationality: Serenian
Residence: La'marri


PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

A willowy beauty with long, slender limbs; Jordan has a body that is straight and narrow as a ruler with no curves whatsoever and a lot of leg. If the truth was told they are a bit on the side of being too thin and looking slightly underfed. They are not starving, but probably also do not eat or sleep enough and work too much which does affect their health negatively.

Jordan has delicate hands with long, boney fingers – palms usually lightly stained from the rich dark soil and mulch they work with daily. Their skin is naturally a soft peach, and despite their love of working outside or in the greenhouse, they never develop a tan.

Their body has an obvious thinness to it, their face is not. Jordan has rounded cheeks and while their mouth is small, they possess full, glossy lips with a tiny button nose resting above them. Huge baby blue eyes are very expressive and highlighted with black eyeliner and mascara. Like many fae, Jordan has slightly pointed ears. They have a very soft, gentle air about them that you can both see and feel. 

Perhaps Jordan's best feature, their crowning glory, is their hair. Jordan love the deep red waterfall of hair that cascades down their back, gloriously wavy with curls on the ends – if it was shorter and not weighted down it would be in natural spirals.


PERSONALITY

Jordan is very much the type to keep their head down, their nose clean, and not to cause waves – or even ripples if they can help it. Inquisitive, hard-working, and kind-hearted, Jordan loves to be working with their hands in the dirt, experimenting with new growing methods and showering their plants with affection. They are the closest things to friends or family they really have right now.

Most of their time is filled with running the shop and tending to their plants, at least twelve hours a day every day of the week. Late in the evenings when the shop has closed they love to spend their time reading books of every genre or taking walks through the beautiful Niahi Woods that surround the city.

Socially they are something of a dud. It isn't at all that they don't like people, but Jordan has very deep self-esteem and anxiety issues. They are different from most everyone else, and it makes them self-conscious.

Fun Facts:

•   Smells like orchids, which happen to be their favorite flower.

•   Has a soft, lilting voice that is great for singing, particularly lullabies.

•   Grows and blends the best herbal teas, essential oils, and natural remedies which they sell for reasonable prices in their shop.


•   Hasn't done more than trim the split ends off their hair since they were eight years old.


PSIONICS

Florapathy- This is Jordan's greatest gift, they are much better at communicating with plants than people. Not actual word conversations, mind you, that would require the plants to have human thought processes, but they can feel and understand each other just fine.

Faunapathy-  Like with plants, they mostly communicate with feelings and simple pictures and concepts. They can connect with some creatures much easier than others. Insects, while simple in their thoughts, are easy to communicate with, while the more intelligent the creature the harder it becomes – perhaps surprisingly.

Empathy- A fairly weak sense, but they can get feelings from people. It is little more than an uncanny ability to know when people are angry, upset, happy, or lying.


RELATIONSHIPS

The Harpers- This is their birth family; mother, father, two older brothers, two younger brothers, and two younger sisters.

Laura Dell- The older woman that took them in after their family abandoned them. She is deceased and they miss her very much.


BACKSTORY

Jordan has certainly endured their fair share of unfortunate circumstances and rotten luck in their still relatively short life, but they are grateful for the good parts of which there are enough.

From birth it seemed fate that they would not live a boring, unnoticed life. A bouncing baby born to a very conservative couple, they disapproved highly from the start of their child, the third born of seven. For starters, Jordan was born with flaming red hair, of the seven children, Jordan is the only one that inherited such deep red hair – the rest of the family is honey blonde or strawberry blonde. Their mother refuses to acknowledge her infidelity and blames Jordan's overly delicate and fae looks on the most innocent party – Jordan.

Their mother kept their head shaved bald rather than look at the damning color. A fact that always deeply troubled Jordan, who loved their hair.

As if the red hair wasn't bad enough, Jordan was always a strange child. Sure, most children are curious and like to play in the dirt, but Jordan was downright obsessed with everything to do with being outside and gardening. There is nothing wrong with wanting to nurture nature, of course, but Jordan was supposedly born to two human parents and his attunement with flora and fauna was unnatural.

It was shortly after Jordan's seventh birthday when it became apparent that they were communicating telepathically with not only the local flora, but the fauna as well. It was the final straw for the family, really. How could they expect to deal with a child that seemed so different and wasn't wanted in the first place?

They couldn't.

Jordan was abandoned in La'marri during a business trip. The rest of the family returned to Serendipity, but Jordan was told to wait in a shop while their mother grabbed one last thing they needed. It certainly hurt to be left behind and cast aside by their family, but they had always been different and disconnected from not only their family, but everyone else too.

They were taken in by a kindly older widow who ran an herbal specialty shop and greenhouse. She had four children of her own, but they were all grown and had moved all over the world.

The arrangement worked out wonderfully, really. Laura Dell got a new little one to fill her empty home, help with her shop and caring for the plants – uniquely gifted help – while Jordan received a home where they were loved and appreciated for what they were – imperfect but genuinely trying.

That was a lucky break for them; a turning point in their life where the unspoken dislike and resentment of their family gave way to acceptance and contentment in their new situation. Sure, everything wasn't perfect, but it was good. They got to really embrace themselves for the first time and it was very liberating to not have their every action called into question or criticized by their parents or teased by their siblings.

Jordan was twenty when Laura, their beloved caretaker, passed away from natural causes. Her children returned for the funeral, and Jordan catered to them in her home. They were surprisingly kind to them, and when it was made known that both the shop with a small apartment above it and the greenhouse had been left to Jordan they were not angry in the slightest.

The last four years have been bittersweet for Jordan. On the one hand they still sometimes miss Laura very much, but at least the plants and insects keep them from being too lonely without her. On the other hand, they now have their own business, a reasonably successful one at that. Yes, they will never be rich, but they have what they need to get by happily.
#18
Draconi Forest / Howl-n-Run [Sanct] [M]
August 31, 2018, 07:38:18 PM
[PM or DM me with a character and an idea!]

There was nothing quite like waking up in a bed of soft, loose dirt and leaves. It made him feel peaceful and content. Howland was in no rush to get up from his primitive bed. Instead he simply basked in the soft morning light as it filtered through the trees, enjoying the rich, earthy scents that filled his nose. A fur-covered ear twitched as he appreciated the sounds of birdsong. He could make out some jays, magpies, crows, and far in the distance the distinct rappa-tap-tap of a woodpecker. Deep in the Draconi Forest he felt at home, where it was wild and free and pure.

This was where a wolf belonged. It was where he felt most at home. His needs were simple and unbiased.

Well at least half of him. The human side was another creature entirely – complicated and savage in ways a wolf could never contemplate. When you mixed the two together you could find harmony or absolute chaos. It was a delicate balancing act between his conflicting natures.

After several days roaming uninhibited through the remote, unsettled parts of the forest his beast felt satisfied and fulfilled. He had feasted on fresh blood and flesh, reveled in the thrill of the hunt, ran for no other reason than the wind felt good whipping through his thick fur, and lazed about to his heart's content because there was no one to tell him to do otherwise. It was the simplest, purest way to live and he loved it.

On the other side, a week of complete solitude with no one to talk to had made him start to itch in an unpleasant way. Both wolves and humans were social creatures. He had started to grow lonely. It was time for him to slink back into the life of a man.

Howland rolled to his feet, his paws were large and heavy, and they made the dirt shift beneath him as his toes sank and wiggled in the foamy soil. He stretched and yawned in an unhurried way. It was a rare occasion where a wolf ever felt the need to rush. Time was inconsequential to him, beyond where the sun hung in the sky. Humans worried about such abstract concepts as hours and minutes, not wolves.

The hollowed out log where he had left his human belongings was easy to find. It was just within the tree line outside a small town he planned to stay in for as long as the humans could keep him entertained and happy.

He had managed to change his shape back into a man and retrieve his clothing, but not to actually pull them back on, before a pair of women came upon him. One was a bit older, in her forties, and the other looked to be her daughter, late teens, possibly twenty. They were carrying baskets and if Howland had to guess they were on their way to forage edible mushrooms, it was that time of year.

A human would have thought of things like decency and modesty. If he were just a man he would have tried to cover himself with his bundle of clothing instead of simply letting everything continue to just hang out, but he wasn't just a man and definitely wasn't modest. A predatory, wolfish grin crossed his features as he took the shocked women in, they weren't hard on the eyes at all, and it had been over a week since he'd last laid eyes on the female form.

"Well hello ladies."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Howland would have sworn he had no idea how he got into these sorts of situations! It wasn't his fault that mother and daughter had been into it and into him. Well technically he supposed he had been in them, but that seemed irrelevant. It also wasn't his fault their husband/father had come home earlier than expected. Or that the man had been carrying a hatchet.

Truth be told he probably had not set a personal best on time when he'd jumped from the bedroom window and took off running down the road. It would have been nice if he'd stopped long enough to grab his clothes before bolting.

How long had he been running? Was he far enough away? The angry, screaming man had been a human so Howland figured he was probably pretty safe on distance by now. He could have killed him, but that would have made the women upset and then they would have screamed and he would be called a murderer. Changing back into a wolf would have gotten him farther faster, but that added the risk of being seen which would just start up an all-out werewolf hunt and that was all just more headache than it was worth.

At least it was a very nice day.
#19
Adela / Howland Hart; Rogue Werewolf
August 30, 2018, 01:14:56 PM
BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Howland Hart
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Height: 6'4"
Build: Solid
Race: Werewolf
Nationality: Adelan
Residence: Draconi Forest, Adela
Occupation: Rogue Wolf


PHYSICAL APPEARANCE
Human Form:
Howland is tall and broad with deeply tanned skin sporting rich copper undertones. His entire body is encased in a lean layer of defined muscles. In a traditional Adelan fashion, the werewolf wears his hair quite long, personally preferring to make small braids at the sides that join into a single braid that falls down with the rest of his loose hair. The colors are somewhat unique, in that while most of his hair is a glossy jet black, there are contrasting silver strands spread evenly through the dark mane.

An angular face with a strong jaw, prominent brow, and hawkish nose give Howland a decidedly rugged appearance. His eyes are a stormy blue-grey, and usually have a glint of mischief behind them, making them bright regardless of their color.

Clothing and gear are practical, soft boiled leathers and either wool or linen, depending on the time of year.

Werewolf Hybrid Form:
Taking on a hybrid form, Howland is a towering beast at over nine feet tall with bulging muscles, long, thick limbs, and deadly fangs and claws. In this form his body is covered in a short, fine coat of silver sable.

Wolf Form:
When Howland drops into his full wolf form, he is easily the size of a bear or small pony, with a thick double coat in a breath-taking silver sable.



PERSONALITY

This wolf is a bit of a wild card – think chaotic neutral. Howland marches to the beat of his own damn drum and if you don't like it go play your stupid baby drum somewhere else. He is impulsive, sporadic, and unpredictable. Not to say there isn't method to his madness, you just might need an act of divine intervention to figure out that method.

That isn't to say he's bad. Howland won't go out of his way to cause trouble or harm to anyone. If you get in his way there might be some consequences, but if you leave him alone then you're probably in the clear. He isn't above petty theft, and frequently swipes things he needs or wants with absolutely zero guilt in doing so. Human notions of possession are wonky as far as he's concerned anyway. If he needs something and you have it but don't need it or aren't using it, then why the hell can't he have it? That just doesn't make sense.

Unlike his little brother who is quite prejudice against humans and prefers not to interact with them more than necessary (even though he chooses to live at the edge of a human village like a dummy), Howland dives into human society with gusto. When he feels like it. It isn't like he thinks humans are just as good as wolves. He just finds them amusing and thinks they provide adequate social stimuli to his very social creature brain.

When he's had his fill of people it isn't at all uncommon for Howland to retreat deep into the forests and live for days or even weeks on end in absolute freedom as a wolf.



SKILLS

Howland has some fairly typical werewolf abilities; heightened speed, strength, senses, and reflexes as well as accelerated healing and decelerated aging. Obviously he has the ability to shape-shift into a wolf and also a hybrid form.  He's got some typical weaknesses as well, such as silver and wolfs bane.

There is no correlation between his ability to shift and the moon cycles. He changes his forms at will and rabidly.



RELATIONSHIPS

Father – Mingan Hart, 64, Alive
Mother – Laneri Hart, 60, Alive
Siblings 
•   Cortland Wayland, 33, Alive
•   Ulrich Hart, 27, Alive
•   Lunette Hart, 23, Alive
•   Cathwulf Hart, 22, Alive
•   Wolfram Hart, 21, Alive



BACKSTORY

Howland was the second born of his family. Both of his parents were werewolves, his older brother, two younger brothers, and two younger sisters were born werewolves, and his aunts, uncles, and cousins are all werewolves. The Hart family has lived for generations among humans spread out across Adela, going about relatively normal lives aside from the ability to turn into wolves and all the benefits and downfalls that come with it.

There particular family unit can be considered somewhat dysfunctional. Typically a wolf family can live in relative harmony, taking in mates as they arrive and welcoming new offspring exuberantly. Mingan Hart is a crotchety bastard of a wolf, though. Ask any of his three oldest sons or his two daughters and they will agree that the wolf is somewhat off. Howland's youngest brother, Wolfram, did not see nearly as much of their father's unhinged side. As the baby his older siblings did shield him as much from the family patriarch as they could. Although Wolfram will tell you his older siblings were bullies that picked on him.

Howland wouldn't completely disagree. He pushed his runty younger brother around quite a bit. It was never malicious, more protective and attempts (perhaps misguided ones) to toughen him up.

All the boys shared the same fate. At age sixteen they were driven from home by their father. They should have been able to stay with their family for as long as they wanted, that would have been more typical. Mingan tried to claim that the reason the boys had to leave was because too many wolves would draw human suspicion or strain the local hunting resources. The real reason was he wanted his sons gone before they became big enough, bold enough, and smart enough to question his authority and possibly usurp him as the alpha male.

Howland still jokingly calls his old man "the big bad wolf" on the off chance he gets to talk about it with someone. He knows how his brothers are doing, even though none of them have really attempted to stay together. Cortland is an alpha now, and a damn good one it seems like. Ulrich does carpentry work and gets by well enough. Wolfram has his own forge and is a small village blacksmith; the runt got big and seems to be going okay. Howland worries about him, though.

As for the sly wolf in question, he isn't like his brothers. They all settled down, to one degree or another, possessing territory and a home. Howland is far more of a rogue. He hasn't gained any interest in carving out a patch of land to call his own yet. Instead he's chosen to wander as he pleases, when he pleases.
#20
Adela / Aralysr Yvel; Grumpy Elf
August 20, 2018, 01:37:39 PM
BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Aralysr Yvel
Gender: Male
Age: 249
Height: 7' 4"
Build: Slender
Race: Starstrider Elf – House Antares
Sexuality: Hypermonogamistic pansexual
Residence: Ketra, Adela


PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Very tall. Much red. Red-orange eyes. Crimson hair.



PERSONALITY

The grumpiest raspberry elf.

Aralysr traveled across the world, left his home and family behind, lost friends on the journey, feels stranded in a strange land with strange people, and the mistrust, the fearful responses, the comments about his appearance - he is not hopeful he will find his Resonance, and is starting to despair that even if he does find them that they will not want anything to do with him because of how different he is.



SKILLS

He has typical elf things, like better senses, strength, and reflexes than a human. Aralysr is effectively immortal as long as he isn't killed. He is a skilled spear wielder.



RELATIONSHIPS

Bibi – A Procyon weaver by the name of Raunaeril Yvel.
Opo – An Archernar fisherman by the name of Anlyth Fyn.



BACKSTORY

Aralysr had a typical upbringing for his kind. Things were fairly uneventful, and he waited patiently to hear his Resonance. He didn't start to despair until he realized that no matter how long or how hard he listened, his Resonance was clearly not among his own people. Others noticed this distressing phenomenon and when an expedition was launched to head south where they were being called, he jumped for the chance to go.

Things have decidedly not been easy on the long journey to Adela and Aralysr has begun to lose hope that he will even find his Resonance after so much hardship.