[Open thread to one person!]

It was easy to chew on her nails or worry her lip. Aster stared at the setting sun - sort of, looking at the sun was always bad news, that's how someone went blind once, her papa told her so - but at least the clouds were pretty and the sky was pretty but... The dread that settled in her chest every sunset was not pretty. Aster sucked in a deep breath and got ready for bed, washed her face, brushed her hair. Nighty on, crawl into bed. Luckily, Aster always fell asleep decently. She never woke up tired.

However, she jolted awake, one foot in the pond with a pokey leaf on her face. Aster groaned as she got up, looking at the sky and winced when it was a little brighter than usual. Normally she stayed in her rooms. Woke up leaning on the windowsil because Duck's don't have arms and can't open windows. Guess she accidentally left her window open, which was good for her. Aster shuffled back to her rooms, arms covering what she could of her naked body and let out a happy noise because, indeed, her window was open. Easy to slip inside and get situated into her nightgown again - though muddy foot prints gave her away.

Easy to fall asleep again, Aster didn't wake until morning. Her maid making annoyed clucking noises and looking down at the muddy foot prints. Her maid knew what was going on. A women old enough to be her (very young) mother, she sighed and cleaned the mud up. A part of Aster's curse was that you couldn't speak of it. Ever. Anyone. At least not in any amount of detail.

"Again?" She said, closing the window. Aster looked at her maid from her spot on the bed and gave a small nod.

"Poor dear, should put a lock on the window," She tapped a the glass and went about her business, laying out a dress before she shuffled away. Aster of course, got out of bed and got a loose shirt and a pair of pants from the wardrobe instead. It was an easy day. Market day. Aster fixed her shirt, tucked it in, boots on. She'd read recently that there had been a tea she could brew to help her sleep. Maybe she could make that and finish it and she'd just... Sleep through being a duck.

"Amber, I'm going out!" Aster called, grabbing a small ornate looking pouch of money and empty knapsack and rushing away. Before Amber could reply, Aster was gone.

Then began her day. The sun was high in the sky, she had a few snacks waiting for when she got hungry and she was perusing the dried herbs, chewing on her lower lip and simply... Looking. There was a drawing of what she needed in the money pouch and... Aster tapped at her belt, blood going cold. There hadn't been a tug or a bump and... Was she really so dense?

Aster gave an awkward smile to the stall owner before awkwardly shifting away. Then, "excuse me?" she tapped someone on the arm, "Please, something of mine was stolen. It was blue and had flowers sewn on and---" The person shook their head and Aster's face fell. The next person. Another person.

Surely someone would notice such a pouch?

An arm was tugged on, "Excuse me? Please?" Aster's eyes were wide and she looked like she was about to cry, whether from frustrating or tears of disappointment and sadness, "Please, have you seen a pouch? It's blue and has flowers and someone stole it from me and... I can't find it. Please, have you seen it?" Aster's hand was firmly holding the strangers sleeve and she just.. Gazed. Concerned, sad and disappointed that someone would steal something from someone else.

NAME
Aster Flovik

ALIASES
Duckling.

AGE
21

GENDER
Female

SEXUALITY
Murr?? Is too worried about being a duck overnight to be interested in that stuff. (Though she thinks she likes boys? Or at least people that look like boys)

SPECIES/ETHNICITY
Human based Serenian Sometimes. Between the hours of 2am and 4am she is a Fulvous Whistling Duck.

HEIGHT/BUILD
5'2,  slim.

OCCUPATION
Officially - to inherit her families business's and manor. Currently, doing her best to maybe perhaps learn magic to break her curse.

RESIDENCE
Arca, Family Manor is in Darken Vei where they own land and various businesses

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

PHYSICAL
Aster is a wee thing. A small cute face with wide blue-green eyes, found cheeks and a pointed chin, a floof of red hair on her head that has a tendency to curl up and always leaves her with a case of bed head, no matter how much she tries to prevent it. At most she's learned how to style around her bed head. Slim and dainty, she doesn't have voluptuous curves and it would be an exaggeration to say she looked like she could hold her own in the cold.  Generally she wear's nicer clothing, her parents leave her wanting for nothing and the only time she's truly unkempt looking is after a long night out(as a duck).

Between the hours of 2am and 4am, Aster resembles a reddish duck that's about sixteen inches tall. She can fly, quack, eat bugs and do various other things as a duck. Her clothing does not change and if her duckling self doesn't waddle back to her room she generally wakes up in a pond nearby, naked and muddy in the reeds. Luckily, the pond is close to where she lives and it's generally dark enough to scuttle back to her lodgings.

PERSONALITY
The type of person to hand her lunch to someone who looked hungry, Aster is a little naive, a little too sweet for her own good but not unlike a porcupine or a hedgehog. One way is great. The other way is all spikes. While she's sweet and naive, she knows when someone is probably taking advantage of her and will be hesitant but if found out, she's nothing but prickles, spite, claws and fangs. For the most part, Aster is perky, wants to see the best in people and chooses to forgive and forget.


ABILITIES
Nothing outstanding. She's a regular basic human being except between the hours of 2am and 4am, then the curse sets in.

Aster is cursed to never speak of it and those that know or learn of it can also not speak of it. Cursed to become a duck every day until she gives into it and simply remains a duck forever.

Perhaps she's good at being a sponge for information desperately wanting to cure herself.

RELATIONSHIPS
Has a momma and a papa. A personal nurse maid/turned maid/caretaker that lives with her in her small apartment in Arca while she studies(who knows she's a duck and also doesn't understand why).

The Witch that cursed her ( though she hasn't found her since that night)

Maybe a childhood friend?
Betrothed?
Older/younger sibling?

HISTORY
A very normal life up until she was about 16, in which a midnight walk (always something she'd enjoyed doing) had her happen upon a rather terrible ritual. Dancing and fire. Demons and witches. Aster doesn't remember much of it, it was a traumatizing experience for all the things she witnessed, but she does know instead of being killed and eaten - which she was sure a demon had suggested - she was simply... Cursed to being a duck.

A duck couldn't get into as much trouble at night, wandering about. And thus began Aster's interesting nights. There's a sense of knowing when she's transformed and Aster had slept few a good number of nights after the incident. Waking up with a few feathers. Covered in reeds and mud. Sleep Duckling-ing became a way of life and at 18, moved to Arca with her personal maid in an attempt to research how to fix herself.

It's been three years in the city and she has yet to find a 'cure,' if there even is one. Of course, things aren't improving and sometimes when Aster turns back in the morning, there are a few feathers left over and she has to painfully pluck them from her skin.


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NAME
Kou'Lu

ALIASES
Sky Blue, Lizard Merc.

AGE
At least fifty.

GENDER
Male

SEXUALITY
He enjoys being the little spoon at sleep time but the rest doesn't matter.

SPECIES/ETHNICITY
Kulshedra, throwback variety.

HEIGHT/BUILD
6'6"

OCCUPATION
Whatever pays.

RESIDENCE
Zantaric

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

PHYSICAL
Kou'Lu is a tall broad man and if all that's visible it's an imposing figure. Usually dressed to cover his face and body, a simple cloak with a pulled over hood, a cowl when he doesn't want to be stared at. Kou'Lu is interesting looking in the light. A humanoid species, a Kulshedra, Kou'Lu is unnatural. While his species has a split mouth to the ears, he was born different. Without the culture of a gem. With a constant smile. The price he paid for this is made obvious by his lack of a right ear, having been sliced off when his mother left him in the woods for nature to take him.

His hair is a stormy blue-grey and the scales that cover his face like a mask are a bright sky blue. The scales continue along his body, leaving his nose and mouth free to be fleshy in a dark tan, down his throat to just under his collar bone. The inside of his elbows, his lower belly, inner thighs and groin. Kou'Lu has a long tail, sometimes he ties things to it like blades or spikes but for the most part it remains bare and behind him, a useful tool for his balance. His feet are non-humanoid, digitigrade and ending in clawed toes, he goes without shoes and instead, sometimes, puts a wrap around them. Shoes are too difficult to bother with. Clothing wise, he wears whatever fits. Most of the time it's dirty but he can only stand in the rain so often and so long before his scales get itchy.

PERSONALITY
Probably has a chip on his shoulder. Grumpy Angry Boy.

ABILITIES
Has good aim.

RELATIONSHIPS
Murrr??

HISTORY
Left to die. Got taken in and taught to thieve. Lost an arm and now he stabs things and gets paid(and then gets drunk).


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NAME
Eryani Ryu Kou

ALIASES
Goes by just about anything

AGE
354

GENDER
Male

SEXUALITY
Hypermonogamous pansexual

SPECIES/ETHNICITY
Starstrider Elf, House Horizon

HEIGHT/BUILD
6'10" / Dainty and pearshaped

OCCUPATION
one of the linguists  for the Starstrider envoy that had traveled to Adela.

RESIDENCE
He desperately want one.

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

PHYSICAL
Eryani is slim and perhaps a little sick looking. He has long black hair near to their hips, so black it barely reflects light on a good day and it falls over his shoulder usually in a singular braid. His skin is a dark dusky blue-grey and his eyes are a vibrant blue. The intensity of his eyes is perhaps the only intense thing about him. His face is round and his lips are plush, resting above a cute small chin. Long neck and broader shoulders, he's not overly muscled and casts a nice silhouette with wider hips. 

His build is a clear indicator that he isn't much of a fighter,. having no hyper defined muscles and instead being perhaps a little 'squishy'

PERSONALITY
Quiet and shy. Eryani secretly craves to be noticed and loved. He'd never voice it but he dreams of the day he's important to someone beyond translating and beyond work done. Hardly one to raise his voice even when vexed, it takes a lot of effort and a lot of needling to make Eryani lash out or react beyond just getting more quiet.

Already teetering on the edge, Eryani is slowly turning into a little ball of nothing. Choosing to feel nothing over feeling anything at all. When he does feel it's intense and usually he always has a weight in his chest and can be seen frequently rubbing his sternum, like it will make the constant weight go away. It doesn't.

ABILITIES
Eryani is Omnilingual.  Which is to say he can speak and understand any and all languages. To extend this he also able to partake in beastspeaking. He understands animals and can communicate with them as well.

RELATIONSHIPS
He has a resonance out there somewhere. The specific someone just for him. He can feel it in his bones and it's killing him slowly that he can't find it.

HISTORY
Part of the Starstrider envoy headed for Adela, he knew if he remained he would perish. Knew that his resonance was somewhere out there. None of the previous stops had quieted his song but here, Adela, he felt something. Something close. He was never really welcome, being a Horizon, one out of the bright star cycle, there's been a sense of hesitation - though the amount of journeying has quelled that somewhat. Now, he just wants to be useful. Wants to put the past behind him and start a new life.


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It was easier than Grant had thought it would be.

The knives had been sharpened so they cut through the throats like butter. While he never much cared for the sight of a gaping neck wound, it was the fastest most efficient way. They'd sent Purple in to grab a few of the prettier ones, the large broad Kulshedra had proven to be a good pet and had simply... Bonked two of them on the head before smashing in the face of another. Grant chuckled to himself while he picked his teeth with a shard of bone, digging through the group's pack for things worth selling. They'd lost the wavy haired one earlier though he'd made sure to wave the knife around tell them running away gets them killed, even went so far as to wiping the eyegoo and blood off on the blonde kid's pants. Right on the thigh, on the top so he could look at it.

Maybe that one was lost? Blondie. Grant stood up and stretched at his spot leaning against a tree, glancing at the sky. Ah well, maybe if he was a virgin he'd go for a bit extra since he was all pretty and tanned but still had the pretty gold hair. He licked his teeth again and rolled his shoulders.

The three they still had, Blondie, BabyFace and Blue Eyes were tied up. Hands bound behind their backs, thighs and feet tied together for the break. Cassen was on watch and Grant could see how much waiting and watching was irritating him. Purple was in charge of feeding them and for such a giant guy he was surprisingly gentle. Something Grant would have to cure him of eventually. Maybe after they passed off the three kids to their new owners.

They hadn't moved very far yet, maybe a mile or two away from the original campsite where they'd all been ripe for the picking.  Titus swears there were ten people in the group but... Grant only saw nine which meant that Titus was an idiot who couldn't fucking count. Korminic stretched, rubbed his thumb through his dark beard and glared at the packs Grant had been picking through lazily. It was enough rations to last them a while but it was heavy and he didn't want to carry them.

"Titus," Korminic yelled to the dark haired tanned man, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared, "Do we really need all of this shit? I looked through it and half of it is garbage clothing. I ain't fuckin' gonna change their clothes, so why do we need it?"

Titus shrugged before he began to go through the the bags that weren't rations. Keepsakes were pocketed and he pulled out a little heart shaped locket, chuckling at the small carving of a spider on the front. "This yours, Baby Face? You like them eight legged?" Korminic gave a cackle before placing it in his pocket, a few more things were tucked away before he kicked the bag over and deemed the things inside it either too small to fit or not good enough to use as a come rag.

"Have you finished fuckin' feeding them yet?" Grant snarled to Purple who looked up hastily, eyes up for a moment before looked down and away.

"No," He whispered, a deep soft noise. Purple was a large man. A Kulshedra. His hair was long and dark, shining purple. Hair back in a loose braid - easy to grab and catch. The lower half of his face was covered in a muzzle of sorts, he could still talk but there'd be no way he could open his mouth to it's full throat biting potential. Where he'd once had scales there were deep discolored scars, clearly having been skinned. His tail was stubby and wrapped in bandages, the end of the bandages stained with old blood.

"Well fuckin' hurry it up, we gotta get moving. Korminic, we have what, two? three days? To get to the wagon?" Grant snarled, glaring at Purple while he spoke. Korminic nodded before he daintily ate a piece of dried apple he'd found in a ration pack, giving a delighted hum at the taste. He'd never had it before.


--


"Alright Purple, that's enough. Get 'em up and let's get going. I got shit to sell." Grant barked. Then the ropes were removed and the three Greenclaws had a bandit guiding them along, a hand tight around their bicep, a knife placed at the ribs, easy to sink in and pierce the lungs. A threat to all should one try to move.  A lesson learned from when Avalaton managed to get free and die for it. Now, if one gets free, the other two die.

Or at least that was the idea.

Summary -  The Greenclaws have been tied up are/were in a daze and in shock by four large bandits and one large Kulshedra slave. It's mid morning the day after the ambush. Their friends are dead and the remaining three are tied up. If they struggle they'll be bound tighter.  They are not blinded and while being fed they are not gagged. If they scream they will be ignored.

Purple  Has been going between Daxten, Kesrel and Sincuvo and has been hand feeding them. They have been given enough jerky and water to remain 'healthy' but not over fed they will probably still be hungry. When he can get away with it, he attempts gentle touches to their heads and necks. If they are kind, there's a faint purring and kind eyes. If they are not, he simply does his job.

The Greenclaws are roped together always at the waist and right thigh and left foot.

Daxten "Blondie"  has been hit in the head. He has a lump above his right temple from when he was bashed in the head and is at the end of the three man line, Grant has also cleaned off his dagger on Daxten's pants, leaving a smear of Avalaton's blood and what eyebits may have gotten on it.

Kesrel "Blue Eyes" has a wound at the back of his head that had been bleeding but has since crusted/oozed over. He's in the middle of the line.

Sincuvo "Baby Face" has a bruise along his cheek bone and a black eye on the left side. He is at the front of the line.

Okay. Go!

@Paladienne  @nephero  @ GoblinFae

[ @nephero ]

Pallaton hadn't said anything after Valys told him that maybe he'd be impressed. There was a quick glance to the sunshine coloured elf, a slight pull of his lips but nothing beyond that.

Instead he just gave a clipped polite smile and started to walk, hands held behind his back again. Cape trailing behind him with his head held high. Pallaton led the pair through the castle, casting a glance behind him at the rushed steps of Rho catching up to them. Decked out and ready to go. Good. He paused briefly for the other elf to catch up before continuing again, steps brisk and long because he would not be out paced by Valys. There was a sneaking suspicion the elf would try it even though he had no idea where they were going.

As it was, the walk there was a decent one. Cheeks flushed when they finally got there. The thin mask he'd been wearing since learning of his son's disappearance was cracking. Showing up as his eyes looking a little more intense. His stare hard. His lips a thin line in an effort to keep himself a solid strict being.  If he frowned too much he knew he'd break just a bit more and Pallaton wasn't sure how much more he had in him before he gave into the anxiety churning in his chest. He could feel his pulse in his throat and it was a constant reminder that he was breathing just the bit faster than normal.

Still, he willed himself calm. Pallaton took a deep breath while guiding them to the large building. It looked like stables. Nests were in a few far too large for horses, one or two had eggs momentarily left alone. A few Adelans were shuffling around the little dens and one even smoothed their hand over an egg, giving a pleased noise before continuing. Pallaton tossed back his head and gave a cry. Not a wail but a yell, a yell that turned into a song of sorts. A quick song that was repeated a few times before he finally grew quiet and a shadow grew before the sound of beating wings filled the air and grey clawed feet gently touched the ground.

It was comforting to be so close to Arcturus again. Neither of them had seen one another often since he'd been made Regent - he didn't need to practice or do drills with him anymore. "Hello," Pallaton said, reaching forward and pressing his cheek to Arcturus's head, who gave a low vibrating grumble and nuzzling back.

"These are why Adela is so well protected," Arcturus chuffed, eyeing the group of elves before giving a look to Pallaton who nodded to his companion.

"They're our friends," he said gently, pressing a hand to Arcturus's neck. A lovely beast. Arcturus was more than large enough to carry the weight of three grown men, his wings thick and strong, his body large. He was a bigger dragon, a unique blend of Adelan lowland beast and Thunderblack blood. His horns turned transluscent and glass like the longer they got and his eyes were a startling vibrant blue.

"Avalaton is missing," Pallaton said softly, turning his attention to the dragon. Arcturus's eyeridges lifted in surprise and then fell into a frown, he nodded towards the elves and Pallaton nodded. "Arcturus suggested you help us find them," he gave a tired chuckle and he smoothed a hand along Arctrusus's neck again who leaned into it gently. He kept his gaze on the little blue elf, leaning in and pressing his nose to that ones chest before moving to the other two.

"He's never seen your kind before. He wishes for me to tell you that you smell like good people," Pallaton smiled slightly, glancing at Valys, "And that's a good a welcome as any. I informed two other Dragonriders to bring Arami and we'll take them with us to begin our search. It's forested so the most our friends will be able to do is drop us off, the trees might give them trouble and Arcturus is bigger than most." Pallaton paused for a moment, looking a little shocked.

"Ah, I forgot to introduce you. Anastolyr. Rhosiris, Valys...  This is Arcturus. Before I was Regent, I was a Dragonrider and he was my partner. He's in a semi-retirement now that I'm not part of active duty. I think he's expecting his first clutch, aren't you?" The Dragon looked at Pallaton before giving a nod, nudging his head against Pallaton impatiently. "I know you want to go find him, Arc, but we have to wait. Rho, Valys and I are ready but we need to wait for the soldiers to suit up." He sighed and looked past the elves towards the doors, nothing for a moment so he focused on them again.

It wouldn't hurt to ask them what they thought. "Do you still want to stay here? These aren't our pets. They're our friends and partners. At least in Ketra, they are. The other places have their quirks, which you'll learn if you choose to leave here."

NAME
Arami Valor Saras

ALIASES
Arami

AGE
19

GENDER
Gender neutral - they, them.

SEXUALITY
Hasn't really figured it out yet. Kinda into all of that.

SPECIES/ETHNICITY
Adelan

HEIGHT/BUILD
5'7", willowy and slim.

OCCUPATION
Soldier part of the Greenclaws Squad

RESIDENCE
Adela, currently Ketra.

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

PHYSICAL
Arami is a willowy little thing with big doe eyes and lush lips. Sharp cheek bones and a pronounced jawline leave them looking almost regal and the tone of lavender their eyes are make their gaze almost hypnotizing. Their hair is cropped short, grown out a little and while they were keen on keeping their twin braids on either side of their head, instead, Arami keeps the beaded braids as bracelets.  There are no piercing or tattoos. 

There is a general 'androgyny' about Arami, besides how they feel about themselves. They don't go through great lengths to look 'boyish' or 'girly' but they do bind their chest for comfort and dress in the more masculine fashions of Ketra. Growing up with their tribe, most things were worn by both sexes and now that there's an option for dresses... Those are not their bag. Tried it once and they vowed never to do it again. Arami is physically fit, though slim and dresses in things that are usually a little loose when given the chance. Their armor is fitted and there's always a zing of excitement when they wear it - a visual indicator that they'd achieved what they had set out to do.

PERSONALITY
Quiet and reserved. Arami is also very stubborn. Willpower for days and an unbreakable resolve. Arami is the sort of person that sticks to you like glue through thick and thin if they believe you're worth it. Being unable to help in any situation turns them into an anxious ball of nerves. Arami holds everything close and isn't the most expressive with emotions, preferring to keep them under wraps and held back. Of course, when there's a glint in their eye, there's time to prepare for some witty remark or a tongue lashing. Arami is, if not, quick to quip.

ABILITIES
Arami is good at sneaking. Light on their feet, good at controlling their breathing, they constantly win hide-and-go-seek when they played it as a child.
Also, they're a trained solider, though after recent events, they're regretting the choice and probably seeking to return home.

RELATIONSHIPS


HISTORY



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The Roster

Arami
Sincuvo
Daxten
Kesrel
Avalaton
Jayniton*
Lynn*
Mataren*
Marippi*
Sansirshi*

Daxten, Sincuvo, Kesrel and Avalaton were captured. In the early hours Avalaton managed to flee from his captors though the blood left on the blade and the sharp cry of pain that had echoed through the trees doesn't mean he got out alive.

The event beings late morning, the night after the ambush with the kidnapper and murderers discussing what exactly to do with the remaining three and how easily the one that flee had been to end.  It Begins...


Day 2


Day 4

[ @nephero  ]
    There was no way this wasn't what dying felt like. Avalaton felt the ropes at his wrists, rubbing the flesh raw. Breathing too deep made his ribs hurt. His tongue was swollen from where he'd bitten it. The tight grip at his bicep to push him along on his own death march - because wherever he was being led was to some sort of death. Avalaton winced slightly when he felt a fat raindrop land on his head, ducking his head down before being jerked to the side. It was dawn now. The sun clawing it's way up, back lighting the dark angry clouds that were trying so hard to rain more consistently.

    "Stop slowing down!" The man behind him barked, pushing Avalaton roughly. A harsh forward momentum. It wasn't difficult for his balance to be pushed off and the good shove had him slam a shoulder into a tree with a grunt. Avalaton looked to his captor, then the few men around him. He was still a little dizzy. Everything didn't make sense yet. His eyes drifted closed for a moment and he felt the arm at his bicep again, squeezing harshly. Another soft hiss and he glared over his shoulder.

    "Stop looking at me like that. You keep your fuckin' bedroom eyes for when we get you down to Essyrn, eh?" The man jerked Avvy's arm again before shoving him along. "You're gonna catch us a nice pursefull of coin," The man purred into his ear, though Avalaton did his best to lean away. The day continued with Avalaton being led along, hurt, tired. Going through scenarios in his head on how to escape. From what he'd gathered he was the only one from his small group to be here. Which meant his team was either dead or left for dead. Maybe just wounded. Avalaton didn't ask. Didn't even know where he was - at least not really. He knew he was on the Thunderblacks but... It was no time to think of that. He just had to be safe. Get somewhere else. Anywhere else.

    They were breaking for food which meant there was finally the slightest chance of anything. He could die here in the forest. The land he was born in. Or let himself be dragged to... To Essyrn. It would be hard to run with his hands behind his back but... He could do it. It would be fine. Avalaton watched his main captor for a moment before he sprang to his knees, feet and then took off. Luckily, or unluckily, that's when the rain picked up. It began to pour. A flurry of movement, he glanced over his shoulder to see if he was being followed and sure enough, his captor was close behind.

    A second to turn back, but all he was met with was with a hot slice of pain.  A sharp gasp and Avalaton jerked to the side and fell to his knees. Rain pelted his face and all he heard was his own ears. Though, he could open one eye and see a pair of them fighting. The bloody knife in one hand. His head hurt like fuck. He couldn't open his eye. He knew his wrists were bleeding but... He had to get up. He had to get away while they were fighting. The only chance he had. Some of the words they were screaming sunk in past the fog of his brain. Ruining the merchandise.

    Had to go. Had to run. Avalaton sucked in a breath and rolled onto his knees before he got up and ran. Deep into the trees. The rain was pouring, all he could taste was blood. One last glance over his shoulder, the blonde hair of one of the attempted captors and then... Slippery leaves. With a sharp cry Avalaton's foot slipped and with no arms to catch himself, he went crashing down a steeper part of the path, down in the bushes. He felt leaves and branches catch whatever cut was on his face. Sticks and thorns slice and cut his flesh. The sound of ripping clothing.

    The world was still spinning even after he'd stopped moving. His hands were pinned under his back and his breath was knocked out of him and Avalaton lay half under a bush, the rain still falling down onto him. leaves and sticks in his messy hair. At least dying here would be better than dying in Essyrn as a pet.  A few attempts at deep breaths. The sound of footsteps almost made him cry but he kept it in, sucking a breath in shortly before the real pain set in and he finally overloaded and Avalaton's eye closed and he passed out, breath evening out after he'd finally fainted into blissful darkness.

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NAME
Avalaton Valerius (ah-vah-lah-ton)

ALIASES
Avvy

AGE
19

GENDER
Male

SEXUALITY
Hasn't even fooled around, been too busy to notice what he may find attractive.

SPECIES/ETHNICITY
Human, Adelan/negligible amount of Serenian from his mothers side - it gives his hair a gentle curl.

HEIGHT/BUILD
6'1"

OCCUPATION
Currently traveling to and around Adela with the Greenclaws

RESIDENCE
Ketra officially

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

PHYSICAL
Tall and broad like his father, he strikes a semi-imposing figure. Tanned with loose curly black hair, Avalaton has softer features no doubt inherited from his mother and his features are made more gentle still by the bright blue of his eyes. A recent acquirement - or loss - is his right eye, the wound-soon-to-be-scar starts under his right ear, goes up over his eye and ends at his forehead.

PERSONALITY
Raised in the family estate, it's easy to assume and would be correct to think that he'd been raised with big soft beds and well tailored clothing. For the most part he's been spoiled by things and sometimes his booksmarts doesn't translate well into world smarts. Avalaton isn't entirely spoiled. He's stubborn, determined and occasionally sweet. Though, since his mother's death he's had a shorter temper and is more prone to violent acts of temper.

ABILITIES
Avalaton is educated. He grew up with books and maps. His writing is beautiful. He speaks a number of languages and he was educated to someday maybe take his father's place should it come to pass. While his education was book based for a long time, he also has basic knowledge of sword play and of course, how to ride a horse. He's learning how to be part of Adela now.

RELATIONSHIPS
Mother - As the first born child, and the only child for a long time, Avalaton was doted upon by his mother. Raised lovingly and gently by the woman, he values the lessons she taught him and someday he wants to be a parent to his own children like she was to him. His training around Adela started shortly before she died and he didn't learn of her death until many weeks after she passed. Avalaton is still devastated by the loss and irrationally is angry at himself for not being there for his mother after her death.

Father - Not a very close relationship but not strained.  Avalaton blames his father for his mother's death and while they were once close, the young man does his best to push him and keep him away. What relationship they do have is strained and what was once solid is in desperate need of being repaired.

Lucille - His little sister. he doesn't know her so well - she was just a baby when he started his tour of Adela

HISTORY
He's doin' stuff.


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NAME
Roony Berg

ALIASES
Rune

AGE
21

GENDER
Male

SEXUALITY
He loves Ansgar? The church? He's so repressed he doesn't anything.

SPECIES/ETHNICITY
Human

HEIGHT/BUILD
5'9"

OCCUPATION
Runaway

RESIDENCE
Anywhere he can put his head for a moment.

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

PHYSICAL
Connlaothian stock, Rune has shaggy white blond hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders and a trim waist. He's relatively muscular and while he currently is a little on the thin side, Rune isn't emaciated and no one would call him skinny. With an innocent face, Rune looks unassuming and easily blends in with most crowds of people. Rune is incredibly un-incredible. There is however a point on him that people would probably notice something a little off. From his left bicep down it appears to be armor. Black armor that's worn tight to the skin, moves with him. Practically a second skin.

It also splits up the middle of his arm. From the end of his palm to his fingers to a bit past his wrist is a strange split and sometimes it opens up into a mouth. Sometimes an eye. Rune's sold some of himself to be saved and now he's paying back.


PERSONALITY
Quiet and reserved. Religious and soft spoken.

Hippo is loud and manipulative, angry and demanding.

ABILITIES
Has an inhuman monster arm.

RELATIONSHIPS
Hippo - arm beast

HISTORY
Rune was given to the church in Connlaoth at a young age and he was raised there. A mage, he was marked and while not treated unfairly he wasn't treated well and went willingly when the mages of the country were sent north. He spent a while at the camps. Too long. Until he came across a gauntlet. It spoke to him and while he thought it was a dream and he surely was dying. It told him to put the gauntlet on. It would help. Unfortunately for Rune, it helped all too well. He killed six people that day, almost cried when the gauntlet opened up and ate the meat of the fallen soldiers.

Now he's on the run. Anywhere he can be. No matter where he goes though, the gauntlet is hungry and it needs to eat. Or it eats him. It's almost reached his shoulder and he can't peel it off. Rune is stuck, afraid and he needs more help now than he ever did in the mage camp.


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[ @nephero  ]

It was strange to hear rumours about the people that have been spotted around. Pallaton was concerned. It was hard enough with everything he had to do and now there was... Strange creatures. Humanoids. Pallaton frowned down at his hand, going over this initial meeting in his head.A mock up of how it should go. What questions he should ask and how he should ask them. Doing his best to paint a picture of these people he was meeting in his head. An idea. The initial description was that they were mostly tall. Pointed ears. Elf-like but not Serenian. Pallaton sighed and closed his eyes before going into the grand ornate office.

There was a throne in this room. A grand throne that sat empty. Pallaton was not a King but a Regent and in the absence of the leader he was it. A tall man, Pallaton was imposing, tanned skin, short hair with a few braids decorated with a small mount of charms and beads. Golden eyes. Stern look. It was clear he wasn't or at least hadn't always been a political figure, the scar that cut across his ear and face, the scar opposite on his neck. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath, imagining these creatures. Apparently there were fangs as well and so far the imagine his mind painted for him was a less than flattering one. Beast like. Pointy ears. Maybe kind of like orcs? His lip pulled to the side in an ill disguised grimace about what he'd been dealing with soon.

The request for an audience was a surprise to say the least. The request alone meant that they weren't hiding from anywhere or at least weren't wanted for criminal reasons. That was good. Or, they were from so far away it didn't matter if they were wanted by whatever law. Pallaton sighed and brushed off his clothing, picking invisible strings from the fabric and fixing the way it looked. He needed to look regal and imposing. His height usually did that. His golden stare was intimidating. This was a new situation though.  There had never been a request like this before and he wasn't sure how to handle it. Did he put on the tough-leader cold stare routine? Act giving and welcome them with open arms? Pallaton didn't know all the details - that was what this meeting was for. Get everything on the table and discuss the future. Pallaton seated himself at the long table. Water with a few tin cups were placed off to the side and there were three chairs across from him. Their supposed leader and two body guards.

It was only fair he let the bring in body guards. If it was an assassination... Well, he would be replaced quickly. Pallaton was not the King and the people would not mourn him.

Impatiently, Pallaton looked at the window, frowning at the light before he rolled his shoulders and tried to get comfortable in the seat. This was always the worst part. The sitting and waiting to do something part. The sooner these colourful orc-elfs got here the sooner they could have a discussion and the sooner they could... Leave? Have a home? What exactly was he supposed to do here? He supposed if there weren't too many of them he could put them up in the Castle like a good host. Would they be worth it? Could they fight? Could they farm? Do anything? Another sigh, his hand moving to his face and he leaned back in his chair and stared across the room at the door, ready to sit up and look imposing and regal when his guests were finally announced. Either way, it was going to be a long day.

[[NAME]]
Pallaton Valerius

[[NICKNAME]]
Absolutely no nicknames. - That he knows about

[[AGE]]
37

[[GENDER]]
Male

[[SPECIES/ETHNICITY]]
Human, Adelan

[[HEIGHT/BUILD]]
6'5"

[[OCCUPATION]]
Regent of Adela

[[RESIDENCE]]
Adela, Ketra.



[[PHYSICAL]]
Pallaton is a tall imposing man. Broad shouldered and trim. Years of hard work has left him a large man over all and well muscled. His skin is a dark tan as are most Adelans and his hair is black. Most of the time his hair is slicked back, sometimes tied into a pony tail with a chunk of hair from behind his ear tied off into a small braid. Sometimes it's decorated but usually, is not. His eyes are the classic gold, thick lashes give him a near constant bedroom gaze. It can turn intense though, his eyes are so bright.

A handsome man, he has high cheekbones and a square jaw which he uses quite well for frowning with, the scars on his face are a thing he considers a sign of weakness. Still, he wears them as proudly as he can even though they're an example of a near failure. The scar on his face cuts from below his left eye, across his nose and cheek, cuts into his ear and partly across his scalp. The hair has grown back but alas, the chunk of ear is still missing. The second scar was one that near killed him. Infection never set in and he managed to not die of blood loss. This one is simply a cut to the neck and much more easily covered up.

Various scars are on his body but the two largest and most notable are the ones on his face except for one that cuts across his left palm and up his index finger - the one time he tried to help the Help cut things up for the evening meal. It went badly and he uses that scar as a reminder of just how little kitchen finesse he has.

[[PERSONALITY]]
Pallaton is a no nonsense man. He's to the point, blunt, and aloof. Pallaton is bigger, stronger and smarter than you are and he knows it. However, he's not above asking for help should he need it and he seeks knowledge like a sponge. Pallaton can be seen with his nose in a book and writing notes as often as he's seen exercising.

Leader
A born and bred leader. Pallaton draws attention wherever he is with a large physical presence, a commanding voice and a gaze that can cut through stone - not literally of course. He knows his way around the politics and has always had a mind for it. It's a battlefield all the same and he's a magnificent sight on both.

(Secretly) Doting Dad
The one thing Pallaton loves above all else is his remaining children. They're his singular weakness and he cherishes them immensely, of course, he only shows this in private. Most nights before the children's bed time - Well, his daughter, his son isn't really a child anymore - he finds some way to spend time with them. It's a quiet moment for him and bonding time with them.

Reading is Relaxing
Pallaton also loves reading. It could be the most boring thing in the world and he'd still have a sense of peace about it. Being read to is something wonderful beyond everything else. While his wife was alive, he'd rest his head on her lap and she would read to him and it's become a thing he's missed greatly since her passing. Usually they were documents or letters - nothing romantic or lovely - but hearing her voice soothed him and more often than not he'd fall asleep there and have to re-read the document the following day anyway.

Mourning Widower
Pallaton's wife of 18 years had passed recently in childbirth. It's only been a year but still he mourns them. For the wife he won't be able to spend the rest of his life with, his rock, and the child he never got to meet beyond holding him for a few moments before being lifeless and cold. Still Pallaton is slowly coming out of his mourning, sometimes though, a noise reminds him or a scent on the wind that carries her favourite flower and he needs a moment to collect himself. Occasionally, when in the depths of his room the faint sound of someone trying to hold back tears breaches the thick doors and honestly, he has no idea who it could be from. Maybe her ghost.


[[ABILITIES]]
A brilliant tactician, well read and well spoken. Pallaton is a man who is more than what he looks like - and he looks like a giant brute.

Along with being a tactician he is also an accomplished fighter with a sword and shield and many pole arms. Spears. Halberds. Anything pointy you can stab someone with on dragon back. Hand to hand combat is decent - though he's never had to do more than punch someone in the face. Most ground combat was with a sword when it was done.

Decently talented with bows. Not an expert marksman but he can make do and knows his way around the weapon.

[[RELATIONSHIPS]]
Maribeth - Wife of 18 years, deceased as of one year ago - A lovely woman with tanned skin, a mess of dark curls for hair and bright blue eyes.

Avalaton - Son. Recently sent on an easy mission to get his feet wet as a soldier but didn't come home the same.

Lucille - Daughter - Toddler, old enough to run but also not old enough to read. Has nurses and is taken care of. Tiny girl with a spring of curls on her head and bright blue eyes.

Arcturus .X. -  Pallaton's dragon partner. Grey. Big. Beautiful. Big wings and a big heart. Arc is sassy and enjoy's naps in the sun. He has a lovely rack of horntlers ( horn antlers ) and towards the tips they harden and go clear. Arcturus is a pretty rainbow maker.
Art of Arcturus done by my friend! For me!

[[HISTORY]]

Born privileged, Pallaton is the son of a Dragon Rider and an Apothecary. While not famous, his mother was a brilliant woman and her dragon was just the same. Her armor stained red for her love of Adela and her hair as black as night. Pallaton idolized his mother and aspired to be where she was. His father was a little disappointed he wouldn't be in medicine like him, but as a proud Adelan he was pleased when his son chose to join the military.

Like he did in everything Pallaton excelled. It was a short while and early into his career when he met Maribeth, a woman whom he commissioned to make most of his formal clothes. A brilliant seamstress and weaver Pallaton was taken in by her big blue eyes instantly and it was more out of necessity than proper planning that had them getting married so early at 18.

It was only a few months after they were officially married that she gave birth to their first child. Pallaton worked harder to climb ranks. To prove himself to his mother. To give his child someone to look up to. His wife kept with her work, coming from a long line of brilliant weavers and designers, nurses kept the child occupied and sometimes Pallaton was home for dinner. As the years went on, he climbed the ranks. Made himself known as a calm man. Cool headed. A good thinker.

The birth of his second child, a daughter, made him a mushy man for a while but he didn't let that stop him on his climb. Pallaton was known as a just and sure leader to his squad, and when the King went missing he was part of the group of potential candidates to watch over the throne. He knew how to lead, he was deeply Loyal to the crown of Adela. Finally, after much deliberation, he was selected.

Pallaton fell into the role easily, it being a figure head and hardly glamorous. Though he knew that in the first place or he'd have fought being stuck reading and making hard choices with tooth and nail. Still, if someone was going to make hard choices he'd rather it be him. He trusted him. Of course, he also thought he made the best choices. There's also whole counsel before anything is decided -- so that helped. He has no interest in being the true leader as of yet.

It wasn't long into the new role of pseudo-leadership that Maribeth fell pregnant again, a third child. The pregnancy was full of complications though and a few times they'd thought they'd lost the baby, the ending was far more tragic though because Pallaton lost both. His children lost their mother and their sibling and he lost a wife and a child. He couldn't wallow though. He couldn't afford to, not with a country to help run.

Mostly he keeps his mourning to the dead of night. Hugging the pillow on her side of the bed. There's still a nightgown - just one - and he keeps a few of her plain rings on a chain around his neck. It's been a year since she's passed but she was supposed to grow old with him and it still hurts. Pallaton faces every day though like it's new and he has no intention of letting the death of his wife end his own. The wound is still there, but it's healing and he tries to do his best by his country and by his King.

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@AlmighyXcavus

The strange pang in her gut told her she should eat things.

Lallianolu didn't really know how though. The few time she'd eaten before she'd been mimicing. Put food in mouth, bite it with the teeth and then do the swallow thing.  Well, chew it a little first. Lallianolu had choked a few times and the resulting panic hadn't exactly been fun. The chirping of birds kept her occupied while she walked, her cloak getting snagged in branches and making it hard to balance.

It turned out, walking over roots and soft moss was difficult when there was naught but two hooves and a small frame.

For the most part, everything was still very new. Sunsets delighted her. Sunrises were beautiful. Leaves and bark and flowers were amazing beautiful things. Lallianolu wasn't sure how she found herself in a forest of thick trees but she was here now and she supposed she'd make the best of it. The trees were pretty. It smelled nice here. Her ears flicked at the sound of the wind through the trees and she dragged her fingers along the bark.

More chirping birds.

Another angry hungry gurgle in her torso.

Lallianolu pursed her lips before she tilted her head towards the bird chirping noise up there in the trees.

Hmm... That was food right? Could be.

It took a great deal of effort and a few awkward positions but she finally - finally! - managed to grab a nest from a tree, looking down at it curiously. Strange spheres a little warm to the touch but no feathery puff. Not pointy face horn. Lallianolu looked at the nest, the wooden cradle for the warm oval things.

Hm. A moments pause and she held out her hand into the air, making a motion like she was tugging something from the air. A flame. Perfect! "Yes," she said softly, moving down to the ground before finding a few twigs and sticks and putting them in a pile. Gleefully she kneeled at her makeshift pile of sticks before feeding the flame to them, smiling when it took and she held the nest of eggs above it.

Fire made food. Or something. So gleeful about the prospect of making the gnawing feeling in her belly go away, she didn't really notice the fire crawl along the forest floor, licking at the dry sticks and leaves and branches. The fire was almost as hungry as the strange girl who conjured it.

art by meeee
wip kind


NAME
Sol

ALIASES
Sword. The Sword. Sol

AGE
Looks adultish. Is technically, under a year old.

GENDER
Male

SEXUALITY
He's gotta at least like you first.

SPECIES/ETHNICITY
Well. He was a sword.

HEIGHT/BUILD
6'2" slim. Athletic.

OCCUPATION
Pants charmer.

RESIDENCE
Essryn

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

PHYSICAL
dark purple hair. Seafoam green eyes. Tanned skin.  He takes after his physical mother and traits of his old phyiscal self.



PERSONALITY
The world is strange and he isn't fond of it.

TL;DR
having arms and hands is awesome. Legs and feet too.

ABILITIES
He is a very talented mage.  Not a god, no where near a god -- but he likes to think he could be.

RELATIONSHIPS
His mother, Aura-lee. His father, Hydra. It's a mess. He was taken from them the moment he was born by Reinier. Technically, he is his own father. Sort of. It's confusing.

HISTORY
A mage from Fell, the he and his brothers chose to transform themselves into a strange set of weapons than become extinguished. Over the years they lay dormant and slowly they remembered themselves and plotted ways to regain bodies. Sol has recently gained his body, using the womb of a silly mermaid girl who would do anything to keep her love -- which Sol took full advantage of. He remained inside her, growing as a human child before his birth in which his brother - Reinier - felt him and sought him out. The second he was born he was whisked away, learned how to use his powers and forced the body to grow to an appropriate age to harness the magic he wanted to wield.

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[ @Lion  ]

It was a gilded cage.

A pretty bauble to be a wife. A pretty woman on the arm. Exotic. A pretend ally. Adalia had been running for what felt like a month now, no doubt she looked it. The time for bathing had been slim. Her clothes were dirty and covered in mud. Her hair was a tangled mess. No doubt she looked tired and sleep deprived. All in all, the Once Duchess of  Highheart  didn't look to be a duchess at all.

She was a runaway mage now. Stealing the child of a Duke. Though, it was technically still inside her and would be for quite a time yet.

Adalia had set off, snuck away as soon as her husband had left to return to the front lines. The pregnancy had set in and things were looking fine. Adalia had never so much as hinted at running away. Seemingly content in the cage. A foreign land. A mage in the belly of a country of mage eaters. It was simple. One day she was there. The next she was not. No valuables were taken. the presents she'd brought were left. The dresses and baubles were left. Hopefully, Adalia sincerely hoped, that his daughter would one day wear the dresses.

They were expensive and it'd be a waste not to out of spite.

With her stomach barely rounded, Adalia snuck what she could away. A simple glamour away from a mordecai and then... Gone. The traveling was consistent for many days. Little rest. Little food. It was selfish of her but she wasn't the most concerned with the state of her child. She wasn't running away for it. She was running away for herself. Sold to Connlaoth under the guise of a hand a friendship. There was none. There was claws and teeth and chains.

Dusk was setting in finally. Adalia pushed her hood from her face and panted to catch her breath, sweat making her opal hair stick to her forehead but... Still not safe. The hood was still up to cover what it could of her features. What little rations she'd managed to steal were gone but her water skin was full. Finding a shady spot by a tree, she drank deeply and rested.

It was dark. She hadn't been followed as far as she knew.

Once her breath was caught she dug her hands into the dirt, grabbing a handful of tried twigs and leaves and held them up. Smoldering. No mordecai. Good. Quickly she rubbed them into the dirt. Just had to get to Serendipity. Or Adela. Somewhere else. Adalia didn't let emotions grip her, though her chest was tight and hunger gnawed at her. A glance at the setting sun and she let her eyes fall closed. Let the warm unwelcome world slip away into foolish dreams.

It didn't take long for sleep to find her. Her fingers dug into the earth for comfort while she dreamt. Her back pressed against the tree as she curled up over the roots. Adalia slept fitfully. Vision wavering. Her magic pulsed into the roots. The forest alive with the vibrations of it. A quiet plea for help that someone in tune with nature would be able to sense. A way to make the area she was in 'creepy' and 'unnerving.' It had worked so far.

Adalia could only hope it would work still.  Just a little farther to go. She could feel it.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Aveline
Age 25
Gender Female
Species Human
Ethnicity Connlaothian
Height 5'2"
Occupation  Horse Keeper or whatever. Equine lover. Noble woman of Folkvar
Residence Somewhere under the rainbow.

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description  Aveline is a wild looking girl, platinum blonde hair in tight curls that reach her hips. Though, of course this is usually done up in a tight braid. A woman isn't a woman without her long hair, as her mother would say. When it isn't done back in a braid, it's a mass of fluffy curly hair that can be quite untamed. Her nose is a button, her cheeks are flush and her lips are rosy. Her eyes are framed by pale lashes and are a honey colour of brown, almost amber A startling contrast to her pale colouring.

Like most Connlaoth women, she's rather short, though she's built sturdy enough with wide hips and a generous bosom. Her constant horseback shenanigans have kept her fit enough and if need be she can run.

Personality Loud. In your face. Aveline doesn't hide truths and isn't one for secrets. If she knows it... It isn't a secret. A bit of a gossip - because she can't keep secrets - Aveline is, if anything, honest. Stubborn. Probably annoying. Also extremely patient when it comes to some things.

Magic/Abilities Has a gift when dealing with animals. She can read and sometimes writes stories. And she doesn't afraid of anything.

Relationships   Beautiful Day - or Day. Her horse, a frame overo  mare. As of yet not the mother of any. Black and white, the white face left the pretty girl with blue eyes. Aveline's family is known for their breeding of these pretty paints and, along with being pretty, have good lines and usually lead to strong fast horses.

History

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@GoblinFae

I cant remember who else i had plans with/have threads with.

So. This is a sorta heads up for inactivity. Or at least very sportatic posting.

Im moving pretty soon, which means all the fun usual moving things. Changing internet. New routines. That fun stuff.

And i also discovered today that my wee cat little baby Pollux escaped the house on sunday.  He was taken to the shelter that same day as deceased.  Didn't notice he was missing until yesterday. So i'm just... really sad. And not very motivated.

He was my little man and now he's gone.

And im really... really sad.  Castor and Pollux were supposed to get really old together and now that isn't going to happen. I even had a dream i heard his little bell and got to give him snuggles this morning! Which makes this a little bit more painful.

So yeah. Im not super into it. So. Heads up. Sorry for the rambling.

[ open by request! Send me a pm and we'll see if they fit!]

The city was no place for a bird.

Technically.

There was a lot of rodents though and Bee's favourite snack happened to be fat rats. Apollonia yawned into her elbow, stretching her arms up. Still in uniform - though the metal bits had long since been removed - the woman looked mostly inconspicious. Mostly.

It was a plain bench and a quick glance at the sky every now and then let her know where Bee was. High and circling. Looking for snacks. When he got bored he'd come back down and be done with it. Then he'd get his real meal.

Soon enough the damn bird would be too fat to fly.

Apollonia smirked at the mental image and pushed a hand through her short reddish brown hair, sighing softly. Though the sigh turned into a groan at the sound of a scuffle in the ally. Whatever. Not her problem - yet. Cupping her mouth, she let out a noise. It was a strange sort of yell that got her a few looks but...

Bee heard it and soon the large eagle on the bench beside her was the center of attention. "Get enough to snack on?" She quipped to the beast, eyeing the blood in his talons. A smirk and Apollonia relaxed back on the bench, wincing when the bird crawled onto her lap, hunkered down and did his best impression of a sleepy chicken. "You're such a brat," she grumbled, closing her eyes.

Though, the feeling of someone sitting beside her had her open one violet eye and look over. "Can I help you?"

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Apollonia Frost - Nicknames include Appy, Apollo, Nia, Apol, Apple, Frost, Hey You
Age 27
Gender Female
Species Human
Ethnicity Connlaothian
Height 5'6"
Occupation Mordecai
Residence Reajh (mostly)

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description    A mop of red-brown hair, Apollonia is a average looking woman. The few defining features she has being a cross scar on the left side of her cheek, going from her temple and forehead and meeting under her eye to marr her cheek. The rare violet eyes of Hellvion are her - mostly - singular defining feature. Having been a solider for most of her life, her hands are rough and decently scarred and she's lean and decently muscled.


Personality B'dunno. Blunt. To the point. Doesn't skirt around issues. If you're annoying she'll tell you. If you're rude she'll let you know. If she doesn't like you, she'll let you know. Has a bit of a problem with being told what to do but follows orders well enough. Has a short temper. Has little patience. Isn't much for reading. Generally? A soldier.  Likes birds.


Magic/Abilities A mordecai with a mile and a half range. Fights. Brawls. Has high pain tolerance. Can ride horses and is fairly decent with acrobatics.

Has a trained bird.



Relationships   Bartleby ( Bee ) - Golden Eagle, he's about 10. She's raised him since he was a chick.



History   Comes from a long line of Falconery...ers... She just happens to also be a solider and mordecai. Should she retire she wants to continue doing that instead of soldier-ing on and so on and so forth. They are from Northern connlaoth. Something something she really likes birds.


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