It was nearing noon, and the Mosaic Reverie was enjoying a steady stream of customers. Evening and nighttime were always the times of most traffic, but there were always some discerning travelers who wanted to experience the games it had to offer without having to deal with the crowds. It was a time for the dealers' next shift, and the transition proceeded smoothly.

 The card games that were the centrepiece of the Palace of Fortune were always popular. Eltanin was proud to see that the newest additions took off well. Human ingenuity had no limit, and he needed to keep a watchful eye out on new games to be added to the repertoire offered by his palace. The alcoves offering darts and other cardless entertainment saw some traffic, but many of them remained empty.

 Eltanin descended the staircase, leisurely taking in the situation. There were a few regular customers; a rare sight, but the Mosaic Reverie was prepared to serve them no matter the hour. Travellers flitted among card tables and rest areas like a school of trouts in a northern river; ever the lasting, although prone to change presence in the palace. Why, there seemed to be someone coming in right at the moment.

 Serendipity, Rhuneth decided, was not as fun as people claimed it to be. Oh, the towns were brimming with colour and full of personality; the markets well-stocked with not just curios and mementos, but also some clothes and shoes that were her size, almost enough to tempt her into thievery! Unfortunately, the people were such disappointments. She could never bring her friends along, everyone would drastically overreact and turn hostile at the mere sight of undead flesh. It was so sad and lonely to have to keep her minions away from the fun, and to say farewell to the lively roads. It wasn't like the wilderness of Serendipity wasn't pretty or filled with tasty berries, but it got boring after some time.

Also, her shoes were simply not suited for hiking. Rhuneth was beginning to slowly understand why some of the other halflings elected not to wear any in the first place. She liked cute outfits too much to follow their example, but she was very fed up with her shoes. She was going to replace them the next chance she got!

For now, she would just have to make it to the next town - or a wandering cobbler, if she was lucky. Ugh, days like this one made her wish she was born a Kulshedra or a human with their long legs and limber bodies. She got a piggyback ride from Lillian, her zombie, but she could not keep going for the entire day with a heavy load! Lillian was neither built nor raised for cargo mule purposes!

Perhaps she should just get a wagon and drive it around the world. She could keep her friends hidden inside! But it would require some animals to pull it, and they would probably have to be alive. Rhuneth was not good with caring for the living. She always forgot when to feed them, and the susceptibility to diseases, injuries and exhaustion was just a pain to deal with...

So deep was she in thought, she failed to pick up on someone approaching.

 It was pure pleasure to be lounging on these new pillows, Athanasia decided. After several weeks of having to make do with her old ones, nothing to do but wait for the cotton plants to mature. Her worshippers had some fluff and feathers saved, but the pillow cases couldn't be made until later. Forced to choose between allowing lesser fabric and waiting, the goddess grudgingly elected to wait. She never considered patience a virtue, it was closer to a waste of time her inferiors had to engage in... but this one time, it paid off.

As she luxuriated in the comfortable softness, she heard the distant sound of a bell. One of the people must have arrived to seek her blessing, or to pray in person. The life of a goddess was truly filled with work. Athanasia shifted her position a little, just to appear more imposing. She took a breath slightly deeper than usual, then blew out fire. Two jets of flame erupted in front of her lips, leaping towards the entrance to frame it in the light of her power. It would look better flying across the ceiling, but she didn't want to risk setting fire to her shrine.

One of the young people tending the shrine pulled aside the curtain at the doorway, allowing the petitioners to enter, flanked by flames. A human couple came in, the man's arm protectively wrapped around the woman who was clutching something. Athanasia extinguished the flames, earning a soft gasp from one of the attendants. Perhaps by this time she should have been used to their awe, but it always sounded just as sweet.

The woman handed her offering to one of the attendants, who presented it to the goddess with a practiced bow. Athanasia's eyes glittered with pleasure as she surveyed the gift. It was a bracelet, woven with some kind of a solid vine or wicker... not her favourite. But there was a lovely glint within the lattice, piquing her interest. The goddess summoned a small flame to give it a better light, and was rewarded with a sight of resplendent red gems. Now that was a present fit for her! She immediately slipped it onto her left wrist, then turned to welcome her worshippers. They've certainly earned her time.

The humans fell to their knees, bowing their heads respectfully. "Our Gracious Lady of Ruin" the man began, "I am Franco the carpenter, and this is my wife Maria. She's with our first child. We- we've come to seek your blessing, so that our son will be born healthy."

"Come, Maria" Athanasia beckoned. The woman took a few timid steps forward, stopping just before the dais. The goddess sat up, reaching with her left hand as she commanded her flames to surround them both. Maria let out a small yelp, frozen in place.

Athanasia rested the palm of her hand against the human's belly. "Thus I ignite the spark of your life into a blaze that shall burn bright and long. Rise, so that one day you would stand on your own before me." She pulled her hand back, extinguishing the flame.

"Your son is fortunate to have parents so devoted and talented" she proclaimed. "Go with my blessing, and raise him well."

The couple burst out into words of gratitude. Athanasia leaned back onto her lounger as she watched them leave. Now that was a good day of work. She called on a few flames, making them move around her arm. She wanted to admire her new bracelet in all lighting possible.

Suddenly, the bell rang again. The distraction made her flames go out as she sat up straighter in surprise. Another petitioner, so fast? Now that was going to be a busy day.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name: Wu Hebei
Age: 41
Gender: F
Species: Shijie-ren
Ethnicity: Songtu-ren
Height: 5'10
Occupation: Magistrate
Residence: A beautiful house in Jingshen

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description: There's not a single hair out of place or a crease on Wu's robes. Her appearance is finely curated to convey respectability and dignity of her station, emphasize the trappings of the office and make her instantly recognizable as a magistrate. It is a uniform no less formal or strict than a soldier's, and she respects it just as anyone enlisted would. Outside of traditional magistrate garb, she wears muted colours and no accessories at all.

Personality: Wu is an advocate for positive solutions over pointless revenge and punishment for the sake of punishment. She believes that prisons are a drain on the empire's resources and do little to actually address the problem. She views her duty as a calling beyond doling out punishment, and is eager to search for underlying causes and cracks in the system that could drive people to break laws. When it comes to dealing with culprits, she favours solutions that put their abilities to use and, if possible, fix the damage caused. In her mind, a true achievement of the justice system is not the removal of the guilty, but turning them into a worthy member of the society dedicated to making it better.

These beliefs and work may make Wu appear to be a gentle and deeply caring person who can see the good in even the worst criminals and would dedicate herself to guiding them down the path of redemption. That couldn't be farther from the truth. The reasoning behind her work is strictly utilitarian, as she views making use of their skills a superior outcome to either excising them from society or wasting resources on isolating them. As any proper magistrate of Songtu, she would never value a criminal's possible rehabilitation above the safety and comfort of the victims. She is not the kind to be taken by any insincere tears of remorse or fake desire for reform, and even to those genuinely wishing to make amends, she is merciless. The whole point of a criminal who wants to change and be better is to look past oneself and prioritize the others' needs. Her job is not to soothe their egos or to be their therapist. Her job is to prepare the path ahead.

Magic/Abilities
- Excellent knowledge of Shijie laws, their history, and social structure. She's more than willing to debate it with fellow magistrates, judges and philosophers.
- She has a very useful in baking magical ability to evenly mix up to four separate substances.

Relationships
- Family and work colleagues

History: The Hebei family occupies a comfortable position in Songtu's society, not quite the elite, but important enough to be respected. As one of its children, Wu had the privilege of an excellent education and a very bright future. Her interest in law was encouraged and allowed to flourish, as she was given superb tutors and apprenticeships under notable figures.

This effort paid off in shaping a keen mind and a strong sense of morality that above all prized the society she grew up in and the victims of the crimes she pursued. Once she entered the ranks of magistrates, she was quick to associate herself with the faction that supported restorative justice and community service in lieu of prison sentences. There, Wu soon found herself in a precarious position on the edges of the faction. Her strict approach to crime and clearly stated priorities make her ideals closer to those of differently-minded magistrates, who in turn are more willing to listen to and debate with her. However, her cold attitude earns her no favour among her comrades.

Character Limitations: Leave her thoughts alone. Minor actions and words are acceptable if the plot is heading in this direction (i.e., if the characters are running from some danger, feel free to describe her running alongside).

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__________________QUICK STATS
Name: Mingke
Age: 34
Gender: Female
Species: Shijie-ren
Ethnicity: Sheng-gu-ren, but it's hard to recognize
Height: 5'9
Occupation: Scientist, alchemist
Residence: A comfy house in Gushui. Quite possibly the only comfy house in Gushui.

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description: Mingke may be the most Huohu-minded Sheng-gu-ren in existence, and it shows. Her attitude towards her hair and antlers, the pride of Shijie-ren, is full of begrudged practicality. She's taken to filing the antlers every now and then to keep them short and prevent them from getting in the way. In a way, it's a good marker of how her research has been progressing - the longer a period of work has been going on, the longer her antlers get with no time wasted on cosmetic maintenance.
Her hair usually faces a similar fate. It's a necessity to keep them long enough that people won't mistake her for a criminal, but she finds it little more than nuisance. Most of the time, she would braid and bind them around her head so they wouldn't get in the way or catch on things.
As her alchemy work frequently involves handling dangerous substances, most of the time she's wearing a wrought metal mask that covers her entire face. It is a simple concave plate with two eyeholes, both secured with smoked glass. She takes it off to eat and sleep, but most of the time she doesn't bother removing it even when she's not working for once. Her face underneath is mostly unremarkable, save for the discolourations and skin problems caused by her work.

Personality: Mingke views the natural laws and physics as nothing more but a set of rules no more inviolable or perfect than the rules of men. She has little interest in the laws of society, leaving the complex process of enforcing and improving them to the Songtu-ren, but the laws of nature seem like a personal insult to her. She sees no convincing rational to obey them, save for the lack of power to do the otherwise - and it is precisely this power that she aims to create.

She is dedicated to her work and has little time or interest for other matters. She does have a lot of respect and regard for fields connected to alchemy, such as botany and geology she relies on for ingredients used in her projects. Her devotion resembles the ambition of other Sheng-gu-ren, but she tends to eschew the association and avoid their company. While her research will ultimately benefit her people, she seeks neither their acclaim nor their company. Whether her achievements change the life of the empire entirely, or gather dust, forgotten in some library; her victory will be no less complete.

Magic/Abilities:
- Ace of Alchemy: Mingke dedicated her life to studying and progressing the science of alchemy. She is not the very best alchemist in Shijie, but her skills and knowledge are top-notch.
- Secondary Skills: Mingke has an acceptable knowledge of botany and geology all over Shijie, mostly to know where particular ingredients can be found, and how to safely harvest, transport and preserve them.
- Commanding Rotation: Mingke has a minor power that Le'raanians would consider magical. When touching something directly and saying a number, the object touched would spin until it has completed that set number of rotations.
- Survived Four Years in Gushui: Whereas Mingke only ventures outdoors to obtain what she doesn't trust staff to fetch, these sporadic excursions and travel grant her more experience and orientation than what one might expect from Sheng-gu-ren

Relationships
- Out of necessity and for convenience, Mingke keeps some "staff" at hand. Their job is to handle chores like cleaning, cooking and procuring what's needed, for a hefty sum. One additional duty assigned to them concerns her finances. She "makes a living" by producing some alchemical supplies essential to the life in Gushui - oils that protect against freeze, some preserving agents, sealants etc. Selling them for markers and purchasing necessities are solely the staff's tasks. As Mingke has neither interest nor time to supervise if they're not pocketing anything on the side, she has a preference for hiring Huohu-ren and Songtu-ren, for their reputation of honesty.
- Periodically, Mingke gets visited by a spirit that looks like a jewelled turtle.

History: Mingke considers herself fortunate not to be born a Rulastinian. From as early as she remembers, she's had trouble conceptualizing these so-called laws of nature. The closest she got to understanding them was by viewing them as some sort of a game. A game had clearly defined rules that one had to follow - not out necessity, but to use them as framework to best display one's skill and cunning. Anyone can overturn the game board and stomp all over the pieces, but  it's far from a true victory.

Mingke grew to cherish most those victories that were won with the closest adherence to these rules. She began viewing them as handicaps that proved mastery, and wanted to prove herself within them. Thus, rather than lending her expertise to the already existing research into the postmortem transformations of Shijie, she recognized the gap in their scholarship. Almost all of the scholars focused on reversing or preventing the transformation, sometimes battling the opinions of philosophers who argued against their work. Few realized that there was another solution to pursue. The problem would naturally disappear, should immortality be achieved.

Her path was laid out for her. It was by no means the only intriguing project to take on, but it seemed most logical to begin there. Should she succeed, she would have an eternity to pursue other victories. For now, she focused her efforts on producing deterrents to death and observing their results to further refine her craft.

She remained in Sheng-gu for a while, until she's grown too disillusioned with the way Sheng-gu-ren did things and moved to Songtu. It was not the best move for someone researching postmortem transformations, as the skull wolves are a respected and desired part of their society. She learned to rebrand and present herself as an alchemist working on enhancing natural physical abilities - not a lie, as longevity counted among these. But the damage was done, and it didn't seem like she would be getting any more work in Songtu for a while.

Mingke was considering moving to Huohu, where people at least recognized that being turned into a bloodthirsty tiger was a problem that needed solutions. It was then that she heard of the poet Guyang. It was purely by coincidence - she wasn't into poetry, but one of the fellow alchemists she was working with was a huge fan. It was from him that she learned that Guyang had chosen to spend his twilight years in Gushui, to seek inspiration in its harsh beauty. A few probing questions revealed that the poet had an entire house built for himself in the frozen wastes, with all the appropriate comforts and close enough to a settlement for the staff to provide him with what he needed.

She was intrigued. She never before thought of working in Gushui, considering how inhospitable the province was, but if an elderly poet could survive a few years there, it should not be impossible for her. She's sank what coin she managed to amass into purchasing his house, and moved to continue her research there. It's been four years since she's made herself at home, and has rarely regretted it.

Character Limitations: Leave her thoughts alone. Minor actions and words are acceptable if the plot is heading in this direction (i.e., if the characters are running from some danger, feel free to describe her running alongside).

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__________________QUICK STATS
Name: Heiyue Li
Age: 23
Gender: M
Species: Shijie-ren
Ethnicity: Shijie-ren
Height: 5'7
Occupation: Peddler of respectability
Residence: Permanent residence? Ew. No. He lives on the move, and on his bitch-ass wagon.

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description: Li's rarely seen without a smile on his face and a product advertisement on his lips. True to the ages-old maxim of 'never get high on your own supply', he doesn't make use of his goods, preferring instead to subject his hair and antlers to an assortment of ribbons, settling for only a few adornments. It's difficult to estimate their proper length and volume, as his preferred hairstyles leave it ambiguous. His robes look fancy and colourful, but can be very practical if need be, barely restricting movement and holding many pockets. Just don't let him hear you calling it practical, he might take offense and hike up the prices.

Personality: Li's very much a people person. He's friendly, chatty, gregarious, and it's rare to see him not engaged in a conversation or at least an attempt. It's really easy for him to make connections, which, combined with his pleasant manner, is responsible for a significant part of his business's success. He's not the best in formal settings, but it has yet to have a detrimental effect on his daily life. Anyone significant enough to require proper respect would not be caught dead at a peddler's wagon, not when they can send a servant instead.

Though his wagon is not a large one, he's been frequently seen giving rides to travellers, especially wandering musicians. He has a soft spot for artists and performers, and often spends a lot of his income there.

Magic/Abilities:
- As expected from one in his position, Li has a good understanding of each province's economical situation, popular and well kept roads, and present state. He's also a capable haggler, but seems affluent enough to give discounts, if earned.
- Li's sight is magical. It manifests in a variety of weird ways, most frequently by assisting him in appraisal. He's yet to come up with a method of seeing through clothes, to his displeasure.

Relationships

History: He was born, he grew up, he got a job.

Like many successful merchants, Li owes his achievement to noticing a need in the target customers and presenting a way to meet that need. He wasn't the first to notice the value Shijie-ren placed on their hair, and certainly not the first to make a profit off it. He packs his traveling wagon full of wigs, hair extensions, alchemical care products and even some decorations, all available for the right price. He's set to travel all across the empire, keeping up with the newest developments in the hair industry, fashion, as well as trade.

Character Limitations: Leave his thoughts alone. Minor actions and words are acceptable if the plot is heading in this direction (i.e., if the characters are running from some danger, feel free to describe him running alongside).

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__________________QUICK STATS
Name: The documentation at Wyrdwood recorded his name as Blaise Lyall
Age: Teen. Young enough to be obnoxious, old enough to get some of the dirty jokes
Gender: Male, but can pull off a frighteningly deceptive drag if need be
Species: Looks humanoid.
Ethnicity: Probably Serenian
Height: 5'5
Occupation: Student, dilettante prankster, connoisseur of cupcakes
Residence: Wyrdwood dorms

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description: While never breaking the Wyrdwood dress code outright, there always seems to to be something wrong with his appearance. Be it sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his robe's hem being discoloured or altered by some experiment, or a peculiar item sticking out of a pocket; there is always some evidence of past activities to be found about him. It is a miracle Blaise rarely makes an impression of being slovenly or untidy. His oddity seems at least to be incidental, rather than a purposeful flaunting of the rule.

When looking past it, he's easier to accept as a part of Wyrdwood. Even the white streak in his otherwise dark hair appears almost acceptable, when compared to some of the more colourful fixtures at the academy. There is a few students who find him cute, but otherwise unremarkable. His blue eyes and completely average skin colour only make it harder for people to play the guess-the-province-of-origin game.

Personality: The single word that describes him best would have to be "playful". Perhaps as a consequence of the Fae blood in his veins, he seems to treat almost every occurrence as a game or a contest of some sorts. He's always up for pretty much any activity, conspiracy or prank, which makes him a semi-reliable partner in crime for many students.

There is a more scheming and calculating side to him, one that eagerly weighs all sides to the situation and seizes any advantage that presents itself. Perhaps as yet another mark of his fae heritage, he enjoys playing games with people. While he is yet to break his word or a rule he's set, he is not above "creatively interpreting" them, or gleefully exploiting loopholes.

Magic/Abilities: Blaise's original magical ability has something to do with binding. For now, he can temporarily chain a person down, with external help block an ability from being used, and assist with oaths. It's probably come from his Fae ancestor. He's also interested in learning magic taught at Wyrdwood, and would probably make progress soon.

Relationships

History: I'll come up with that later.

Character Limitations: Leave his thoughts alone. Minor actions and words are acceptable if the plot is heading in this direction (i.e., if the characters are running from some danger, feel free to describe him running alongside).

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 Due to a sudden imposition, my posting speed is going to slow down drastically.

 "Are you gonna be alright?"

Kolva rolled all of her three eyes. "I don't know, sis. I mean, you're leaving me in a dangerous warzone. With all those blades and spells flying, I'll be surprised if I live to see the sunset, let alone recover from my injuries. Now, if only there was a peaceful little village somewhere where I could convalesce in peace..."

"Never mind. If you're feeling good enough to use your big words, I suppose I don't have to worry aboutcha" Tarroth grinned. "Well, I guess I gotta head for the headquarters. Would be nice if Defenceless Old Ladies got big enough to have branch offices - it's annoying, having to make it all the way there..."

"Shouldn't have jumped on a random ship, then."

"Hey, how was I supposed to know it was going all the way north? There was no worker in sight I could get the information out of, everyone was hiding!"

"Excuses, excuses" Kolva chuckled. "Well, I enjoy friendly banter as much as every other gal, but I probably shouldn't keep you. I don't think this place can afford you staying for another dinner."

She had a point. After this whole fiasco that landed them in the backwater of Le'raana, they spent almost all of the coin they had on curatives and renting a room at the inn for Kolva to rest in while she recuperated. It would be more expedient to hire a healer so that they could both head to the headquarters together, but the village mage was apparently missing, for a little over a year.

"I guess Siran is right, working in Serendipity is the best" she commented. "At least there if we get separated from the rest, there's no trouble finding a healer."

"Speaking of finding a healer" Kolva squirmed into a more comfortable position. "Ugh, my pillow needs fluffing. Anyway, I've heard the gossip that the missing mage's daughter is going to look for him. Since you're broke, I thought any information about a new job would be helpful-"

"Well of course I'm going to be helpful! I'm going to drag this asshole here by his hair if need be! What an irresponsible idiot, leaving his daughter alone like that! What was he thinking-"

"Cool down there" she sighed. "The daughter in question is pretty grown up, I'm pretty sure you're getting the wrong idea here."

"I'm not!" Tarroth insisted. "It was still incredibly rude to leave her alone without a word for a year! He better have a good excuse!"

"Right" Kolva chuckled. "Anyway, if the girl wants to head out, she will probably visit the traveler's shop, so that's a good place for you to start looking."

"I will. Thanks."

__________________QUICK STATS
Name: She's better known as the Mask of Zantaric, but her name is Trisk
Age: Dozen revolutions
Gender: Female
Species: Wingless pixie? Sprite? Something small and angry
Ethnicity: Summer
Height: About eight inches
Occupation: Vigilante
Residence: Zantaric

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description: Trisk is a tiny thing about the size of an adult human's palm. Her body is plump with muscle rather than fat, but supple enough to wiggle out of the grasp of any fool who would try to grab her. She lacks any sort of wings, tails, horns or additional appendages, although it is unclear whether it was always so or if some enterprising purveyor of magical parts hacked them off. In a way, she looks like a miniature human.
Under her motley cloak, her skin is dark and spotted. She keeps hacking her hair off whenever it grows too long to fit in her mask; at the moment it looks uneven and ugly. It would be hard to describe her face, considering that it is rather small, usually covered, and few people ever get close enough to look.
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Personality: Eight inches of anger, violence and temper. The most polite thing she is capable of doing is straight-up ignoring someone - not that she takes that option. Brash and outspoken, she is an open book that doesn't shy away from making it known what she really thinks of people - and acting upon it. She has almost an endless supply of rage, fueled by thousands of petty frustrations of everyday life, and frequently takes it out on criminals she chases.

As almost every person she has to interact to in a hypothetically civil manner is larger, she has seen a fair share of idiots who looked down on her, underestimated her, or - worst of all - dared to coo over her miniature stature. It is guaranteed to make her explode in fury and ruin all hopes of a peaceful resolution. Those who dare to imply an inferiority complex or have the gall to try some stupid jokes end up hurt the most.

Magic/Abilities: Trisk augments her streetwise fighting with alchemy that allows her to take otherwise undefeatable opponents of any species. The potions she uses were produced for a human-size client and account for their body mass and size, so the effect they have on her small form are noticeably greater. She has also been able to ration them better in order to make them last for a longer time. However, while they grant her great advantages, each also has a side-effect she has to manage. The potions she has at her disposal are:
- Ductile Drops: A crafty concoction that turns her flesh very tough and flexible, able to stretch over great distances. It takes on a rubbery texture and is able to accumulate kinetic force and bounce it back at the opponent just as efficiently. Its side-effect is rendering her hearing unusable - once the bones in her ear turn rubbery, they do not work the same way, leaving her with one sense less.
- Strength Serum: The simplest potion there is, brewed to enhance one's physical prowess. A normally-sized person would experience a rush of strength, enough to lift a fallen tree. A giant would receive a minor, almost imperceptible increase. Trisk gets to punch out people way out of her size bracket and crack stone with her fists. Its drawback is the greater momentum, making it hard if not outright impossible for Trisk to stop an action already begun or change direction mid-movement.
- Perception Potion: A tasty elixir enhancing all of her senses. With just a small drop, she can hear the entire district, see clearly in the darkest night and smell particles only a canine nose could pick up on. Its drawback is the sensory overload that comes with it - it's easy for her to become distracted or overwhelmed when using it.
- Sip of Solid: A curious substance that alters the density of Trisk's body. Upon partaking in it, her flesh becomes so hard that no weapon can even break her skin. Of course, heaviness that follows confers a significant disadvantage, and vertical progress such as climbing or jumping is out of the question.

Relationships
- Every outlaw in Zantaric is her enemy. Let's just put the entire population of the town here.

History Trisk arrived in Zantaric in a hastily thrown together cage. An enterprising alchemist mercenary by the name of Remei Garcia has captured her, intending on selling the curious sample to a freak show or someone in need of ingredients like pixie dust. She headed to the best market on Le'raana that handled such exotic wares, and was mugged in the street. While most of the time, Garcia was more than capable of looking after herself, one of the blows in the ensuing fight struck the cage.

Rather than do the smart thing and escape, Trisk followed her instincts and joined the fray. Her size made her rather difficult to hit, and she provided quite a distraction - enough for the assailant to thrust his blade through Garcia's throat. The wounds inflicted on him were serious enough that he didn't live long to enjoy his victory - he bled to death in the alley.

Having seen a group of enterprising thieves check a corpse for valuables before, Trisk performed her first (and last, if only those without alchemical support are counted) feat of supernatural strength, dragging Garcia's bag away before the locals arrived to conduct a proper looting. She squeezed herself (along with the baggage) through a crack into the space between walls, where she was safe enough from the big nasties.

The bag turned out to contain Garcia's potions that she mixed to keep her edge in battle. The mercenary brewed them for her own use and prepared doses for someone of her weight and metabolism. On someone much smaller, it had even a greater effect. A single drop was enough to turn Trisk into a superhero - and that was exactly what she was going to do. She made herself a costume by ripping a few pieces of fabric off the bag's lining and set out on her quest to punish the wicked!

Character Limitations: Stick to what your character does and let me describe what happens to mine, the reverse also applies.

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__________________QUICK STATS
Name: Vei Aensland
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Ethnicity: Serenian
Height: 5'7
Occupation: He's employed in one of the local drinking holes, and also functions as a paid guide to foreigners
Residence: One of Essyrn's districts

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description: It is clear to anyone with any way of perceiving the world around them that one Vei Aensland is not a native citizen of the great empire of Essyrn. His skin is far too pale to be a product of the desert sun, the lines of his face seem strange when compared to others around him and his hair is a peculiar shade of blond, almost impossible to find among locals.

Apart from this, Vei walks, dresses and acts like a local - with a scarf wrapped around his head, he is practically indistinguishable from the native Essyrni. His clothing is well-worn and practical, clearly a hand-me-down from the older siblings.

Image removed. Please read our art usage policy. Thank you!
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Personality: Vei's a problem solver, through and through. He was never the kind to sit around and mope when there was action to be taken, and spares no time to be wasted. His no-nonsense attitude and comprehensive knowledge of the city frequently makes him seem older than he really is. Living in the greatest city on Le'raana had him encounter a variety of strange individuals and events. Consequently, while he cannot be accused of growing indifferent to the wonders of the world, he's pretty much able to accept anything and is rather unlikely to be shocked about what he encounters.

Those who encountered him in a professional environment would attest to his skills and probably call him stingy. He gives no discount and has no regard for special circumstances. He has a large family to support.

Magic/Abilities: Vei has a magical ability to manipulate density as well as concentration of mixed substances. He also developed a variety of practical skills, such as languages, bargaining and reasonable knowledge of the underworld.

Relationships:
- His mother Rinka Aensland, a great Serenian patriot
- His unknown father
- Tenuous relation through his siblings to all their fathers
- Elder sister Qadramah (26), married and refusing to have anything to do with the weirdos
- Elder sister Jade (24), working as a guard at the arena
- Elder brother Tirian (21), apothecary's apprentice
- Younger sister Kiana (18), has fled the country after being wanted for murder.
- Younger brother Falliaen (16), runs the house
- Younger sister Feather (15), cutpurse
- Younger sister Summer (13)
- Younger sister North (11), Raven's twin
- Younger brother Raven (11), North's twin
- Younger brother Verde (7)
- Rinka is pregnant with the last child, which will be named after Whitesands

History: The Aensland bloodline, as one might guess from the name, come from Serendipity. They used to be loyal vassals of a great noble house of Telyavelic. This name no longer bears any weight in Serenian politics, for they have been struck from history for the crime of attempting to assassinate their province's ruling family. Every Aensland that assisted in their transgression was executed, and the rest was exiled.

Their exile was set to last fifty years. The Aensland remnants had to leave their nation, with mixed feelings. Some accepted it rather quickly, others decided to make the best of their lot and try to make a new life, but there was still a few dedicated patriots who awaited with bated breath the moment their banishment was over and they could return to their beloved homeland.

Amar Aensland was one of those. He moved to Essyrn where he raised his daughter Rinka in the patriotic spirit that ruled his life. While she had no memories of their beloved homeland, as she was barely born by the time of Teylavelic insurrection, the endless tales of Serenian glory and superiority shaped her personality and future. With bated breath, she counted years to the end of their exile, ready to return to their true home and to clear their family name. Once again, it would be viewed as a synonym for loyalty, rather than betrayal.

Rinka's patriotism expresses itself in almost every aspect of her daily life. The inn she used to run with her second husband offered free service to Serenian travelers, she tried to furnish her house in the style of her homeland (and failed miserably), bothered almost every person she recognized as or mistaken for a countryman for news and turned into pretty much a textbook stereotype of an immigrant. Her family was not spared - as stupid as it is, she decided on having twelve children, each named after a Serenian province.

While her first husband Ihab did not fully know what he was signing on, taking a Serenian-raised woman as his wife; he still managed to stand his ground. In the end, their eldest child was named Qadramah, a compromise combination of Essyrn words for moon and spear. She was pretty much Ihab's greatest success when it came to family, as she ended up in a comfortable position as a second wife to a Merchant Prince's highly placed servant and is overall not associated with her family of weirdos. By the time Jade was born, Rinka had her spouse henpecked to the point that the name passed, and he barely lived to meet his son Tirian. A plague was sweeping through Essyrn's lower district, and there was a limit to how many people Rinka could keep immune with her power.

She married again a few years later, to an innkeeper. Vei was born 8-9 months after they said their vows, leading Rinka to have doubts about his parentage. It wasn't important for her, and she saw no point revealing it to Essyrn's "regrettably backwards and sexist culture". She wasted no time having Kiana, Falliaen and Feather before her second husband died to a friendly fire in a fight between a Merchant Princess' guards and thugs sent by her rivals. She never remarried, since twice a widow with a gaggle of kids was not an attractive prospect for the Essyrni; but that didn't hamper her reproductive plans.

She had Summer, then got pregnant with what would be a pair of twins. Before they were born, her eldest daughter left the house. She married as according to the Essyrni tradition and cut ties with the rest of her bizarre family. Tirian decided to fill the void she left and support the family. His memories of the plague that took his father's life led him to apprentice himself to an apothecary.

Rinka's age and the difficult birth of the twins forced her to take a break in her reproductive efforts. She had to focus on caring for and bringing up her already existing children as well. She was aided by her eldest children - Jade put her sword skills to use guarding the coliseum, Tirian put all that he had in learning his craft, Vei and Feather turned to theft and Falliaen helped his mother in daily chores. While Verde's birth was an accident - Rinka swore that she took the proper decoction - the household was as prepared for it as it could be.

It has taken a far longer time for the financial stability to get to the point for her to continue. The older children suspected that time might also be a factor in her decisions. They like to jokingly ask Rinka what would happen if she has another pair of twins, or even triplets. Still, they're rather resigned to accept their eleventh and hopefully final sibling. Their family lost one more member, as Kiana got caught up in something unpleasant and had to flee Essyrn.

Character Limitations: If there is a significant difference in power, or there is a friendly relationship, feel free to land minor touches or hits. Otherwise, discuss it with me and do not describe his reactions or thoughts.

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 Warning: this application contains mention of love potion roofies and animal death


__________________QUICK STATS
Name: Joshua Colbrande, nee Gallows
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Species: Like most Serenians, he was born a Fae-blooded human
Ethnicity: Serenian
Height: 5'8
Occupation: Mageknight
Residence: The Colbrande family has a mansion in Atlas Verde, but he spends most time in the field

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description:
His chosen profession is clear to everyone around him through his behaviour. Joshua walks with a confident step of a fighter; watches his surroundings with critical, analyzing gaze; even when standing he defaults to the at-ease position. Most of the time, the army uniform emphasizes this impression - few people have ever seen him in casual clothing and lived to tell.

His skin is a few shades darker than what one might expect from a Serenian, though he rarely shows more of it than is absolutely necessary. There are few marks or scars marring his complexion - a sign of either impressive abilities, to avoid serious injuries on the battlefield; or an indication of availability of magical healing at his disposal. He considers himself lucky to have a completely unremarkable face - a pair of boring grey eyes, a rather average nose, thin lips. A vain man would take a page out of Thanati playbook and have a specialist give him a more eye-catching appearance, but Joshua prefers to let something more substantial than looks fuel his narcissism.

Spoiler

Source: Last Exile game

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Personality: The impression people would get from him is one of a professional. To the members of the squad under his command, his superiors he reports to and any civilians he encounters in the line of duty; he's appropriately polite, while focused on the mission. In a way, he appears to be a model soldier: always composed, efficient, clever enough to find the best way to achieve his objective but not enough of a smartass to question his orders.

Beneath the comfortable shell of professional focus lies a sharp mind armed with practically scholarly curiosity. As it is not a part of the soldier stereotype, some people tend to underestimate his intelligence - but it's not a mistake anyone makes twice. Another trait that distinguishes him from the veneer of a model soldier would be the verbal wit. While he's never turned his tongue against the undeserving, he does not suffer fools or frustrating foes gladly; and has no problem mocking them for the amusement of whatever audience he happens to have.

Spoiler

People who know him as a researcher rather than a soldier would paint quite a different picture: one of a frighteningly inquisitive and capable scientist. They would speak with appreciation about his diligence, insight and efficiency; quite frequently expressing willingness to work with him again and regretting his departure. His few friends and family, on the other hand, would laugh and change the subject. If pressed, they would joke about him - he's quite a project person and requires privacy.

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Magic/Abilities
- Knowledge and skills connected to his occupation as a soldier: combat both alone and in a squad, familiarity with Serenian terrain, tactics etc
- He is most adept with a spear, having only gone through basic training with other weapons. His magical ability makes him a scarily accurate sniper, though he doesn't have the strength to pull the heaviest-draw bows
- His magic allows him to manipulate space and distances, dimensions to a lesser extent. He cannot affect sentient living beings with that or so he claims
- Excellent knowledge of magic theory
- Due to weird brain chemistry, he's resistant to attempts to influence him (mind control, drugs etc). He's not completely immune, however, and people who know how his brain works can completely circumvent it.

Relationships
- Few close friends
- His fellow soldiers
- The only person counted among both: his superior, Captain Jarred Jevoran
- His family. He's only close with his sister Alisha
- His wife
- His old colleagues. For security reasons, he's no longer in contact with them.

History: Even though the heart of Serendipity is Kia's Court, its mind is Darken Vei - the province famed for its scholarship and the power of its magic. The stereotype associated with its people would be the one of a passionate scholar, master of the arcane arts, driven by curiosity rather than a specific code of honour or earthly desires. While the Colbrande family were simple craftsmen with only minor ability, the culture they were raised in led them to recognize their younger child's natural gift and allowed them to quickly find appropriate education for him.

The opinions Joshua's teachers formed about him were quite single-minded. The most significant was the sharp contrast between his study and his behaviour. They were all astonished by his learning speed and intelligence, covering in weeks material most students would take years to learn. His brain, however, was the only part that matured ahead of age, unfortunately.

The isolation that proceeded was the natural consequence of this situation. Lauded for his intellect, Joshua's pride grew and led him to consider himself superior to others - not just other children, but most of the adults around him; those poor fools who were content leading their ordinary routine lives and whose education stopped at the level of barest necessities. But even without his ego, he would have become isolated - few of his peers could understand what he was talking about, let alone provide a stimulating conversation.

Any attempts at forming a relation with adults would be coloured by his own age. Joshua ended up reaching for means of longer-distance communication in order to seek a connection. It was a simple matter, writing some distinguished professors a letter of appreciation for their books, asking a few polite questions. He was intelligent enough to understand etiquette and fit neatly into the social norms; and the written form hid his age preventing it from being dismissed on those grounds.

Soon, he was corresponding regularly with a variety of respected scholars. They expressed interest in him, and he carefully assessed the situation before divulging the truth. His calculations were proven to be correct - while the trusted ones were surprised by the reveal, their pragmatism overcame social convention. The professors wrote to his family and offered to sponsor his further education - an offer no sensible person would refuse.

Able to learn at his own pace and no longer restricted by a common child's limits, Joshua ravenously devoured every scrap of knowledge offered to him, progressing at blinding speed. Soon, he was more than just a child prodigy; he became a valuable asset his benefactors were more than willing to take advantage of. His understanding of ethics was purely theoretical and immature - he viewed the tasks he was given from an entirely academic perspective. He was wholly unconcerned with the question of right and wrong, only with whether it could be done and how. Of course, he was aware of the law and the option of simply reporting his colleagues to the authorities - he just chose not to exercise it. There would be little benefit to it and he would probably not be allowed to continue the research.

He carried on with his clandestine activities for years.  Fortunately, interacting with people he actually respected, led him to develop some social skills. They definitely came in handy once he and his sister hit puberty and drew attention. One of his colleagues, an esteemed Verdan scholar, came from a province where opportunist nobles picked magically talented commoners to marry into their houses and enrich the bloodline. Joshua's space manipulation and Elisha's uncanny sense for timing were enough to spark some interest, and her recommendation solidified them as worthy prospects.

While Joshua didn't particularly care for marriage, he loved his sister and wanted to make sure that she was happy. He carefully observed her interactions with the candidates, measured them against what he knew of her expectations and spent a surprisingly long time trying to select the best one. His hidden work was then thrown into the gutter when she announced her engagement to a man known to him only by name.

It was surprising, forcing him to put together a quick investigation into his background. He found nothing objectionable, and they seemed genuinely happy. It was a relief, and now that she was wed, most of the Verdan nobles interested in the wonder children of north focused on him. He was as interested in it as he was in anything else outside his research. He approached all proposals from this angle, and would probably end up choosing to marry into the family that had the best resources or access, had someone not forced his hand.

The woman who would become his wife was Adaline Colbrande. During Joshua's research trip to Atlas Verde, she decided to tip the scales in her favour and attempt some in-person seduction. She augmented her efforts with a love potion she added to his cup. While for some reason it didn't work on him, she was already one of his preferred choices. He found out when doing routine chemical tests (a habit he's gotten into since the group lost two researchers to food contaminated with samples), but it didn't really change his mind. Neither did he choose to confront her about it. He still wasn't sure why the potion failed to work, and preferred not to reveal his cards.

He married Adeline shortly thereafter, but the only major change in his life was moving to the Verdan branch of his research group. When he began to have doubts, he blamed the change of environment, but luckily for the entire Le'raana, he didn't lie to himself for long. It took time, but he gradually realized that ethics have a purpose other than an intellectual game, and that perhaps he shouldn't spend his life working on immoral research. His transformation didn't affect his intelligence; he knew that his colleagues were very unlikely to change the way he did, and even less likely to let him resign in peace. He needed a plan.

The lynchpin of his plan was Baroness Nolanni - an old, scarred veteran who could no longer lift a sword. Her military obsession led her to fund a massive reward for any healer who could restore her lost youth so that she could return to her former position in the army. In the meantime, she supported the Serenian forces by sponsoring the career of promising talents. Joshua discreetly arranged for a group of bandits to waylay her carriage as she was returning home after visiting her family. He swooped in at the right moment, rescued the danger in distress and made quite an impression. Naturally, Baroness Nolanni insisted on his joining the army, and since the cover he received as a part of the research effort was some petty drudgery, there was no excuse for him to get out of it. They understood, appreciated his faith in their ability to carry their mission through, and carefully cut ties.

Joshua threw himself wholeheartedly into his new life. While the training wasn't enough of an intellectual challenge to actually satiate him the way his research did, but being too exhausted to think got around that need. Once he improved to the point that he still had energy left to think, he began to set challenges for himself. While the logistics formation wanted him for his magic, but he ended up entering the ranks of the mageknights. The main problem he had to deal with was the cavalry aspect - the horses were unanimous in their dislike of him. He had to trade some favours to get a teammate with a compulsion ability to calm the assigned mounts - in plural. They had a tendency to end up killed or lamed; the other soldiers were quite amused by this 'Colbrande Curse'. "It's like they can sense that their fate is sealed the moment you climb into the saddle!", "Good thing you married into a family that can cover all those costs, huh...", "I bet three shils that this poor beast won't live to see next week" etc

Character Limitations: Do not describe his actions or reactions (unless you're referring to my previous post from your character's point of view). Physical actions and spells will be handled on a case by case basis.

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An excerpt from the Mordecai file on 'Radiant Midnight'
SECTION A: AN OVERVIEW
Name: Most of the time, the target goes by 'Radiant Midnight'. Our spies also caught him introducing himself as 'Julius Vinthaeris', assumed to be a fake name.
Age: Appears to be in his late twenties or early thirties. We could get a precise number if we found out his original identity.
Gender: Male.
Species: Human. His appearance, pride in his cursed magic and most tellingly, reaction to iron, allowed us to identify him as Serenian, therefore he should have some Fae ancestry.
Ethnicity: See above.
Height: 5'7
Occupation: A thorn in our side. Radiant Midnight has engaged in a variety of unlawful activities, including but not limited to:
- Practicing unlawful magic: for details, refer to Section C
- Assassination and murder. Radiant Midnight is confirmed to have killed over a hundred of our brothers, and is suspected of being responsible for the deaths of twice as many.
- Arson, vandalism and theft: for details, refer to Section D, subsection 2.

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF
SECTION B: TARGET CHARACTERISTICS
Subsection 1. Physical Description: He's almost a textbook example of a cursed denizen of Serendipity. His skin is pale and unmarked, clearly a sign of magical healing, considering the amount of battles he fought. His noble features and natural charisma makes it easy for him to pass himself off as an aristocrat. It's hard to get a closer description, as most of our units do not survive an encounter, but one of our spies pretending to be working with the magic users managed to see him up close and provide a following account:
'A tall, imposing figure, the kind that dominates any room he enters through natural force of will. Most of the time, he wears mage robes and a complimenting staff - he clearly has no intention of hiding his identity. He appears to be the very picture of highborn poise and grace. This impression is further confirmed by his noble features and elegant bearing, as well as the way he speaks. He was trained to modulate his low, clear voice in order to make the best of every word and carry his charisma further; his large vocabulary and refined way of speaking further reinforces this impression.'

Subsection 2. Attached depiction produced by one of our spies:

Spoiler

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Subsection 3. Psychological profile: Radiant Midnight's main driving motivation is pride in his ability and identity as a magic user. It wouldn't be a problem to us if he just stayed in Serendipity summoning demons or whatever it is he used to do, but he chose to do something else with his life: be a thorn in our side. He bears a hatred of us and Connlaoth itself so deep, he kills anyone and everyone connected to it, including innocents. In his twisted mind, there are only three types of people: his unnatural kind, tools to be used and discarded, and enemies. But it would be easier if he was just a zealot blinded by rage and hate. He doesn't let it guide his actions - he's highly intelligent and dangerous. That he operated for so long in our territory and survived - succeeded, even - is a proof of his ability.

SECTION C: THREAT ASSESSMENT AND CAPABILITIES
Subsection 1. Magic:
- Radiant Midnight is a powerful healer, able to bring a man from the brink of death. This makes him exceedingly hard to kill, bordering on impossible without direct engagement.
- The Curse of Corruption: Radiant Midnight's greatest weapon. Those of our brothers and sisters who come in contact with him die in agony and cannot be cured. I am hesitant to put it down on this page - if it truly were brought about by magic, it should pose no threat to us. We need to either verify his nature as a mortal, or divine the truth about the Curse.
- He was shown bending the natural world to his will. Is there nothing in the world his hubris won't make him enslave?!
Subsection 2. Other Capabilities:
- A highly competent tactician, capable of adapting at a fly. His knowledge of our tactics and methods is uncanny - could he have a source on the inside?
- Unusually high leadership ability, even considering his natural charisma. Is it possible he was born to rule or command?

SECTION D: CRIMINAL PROFILE
Subsection 1. Associates Radiant Midnight has consorted with other magic users and their allies to ruin our country.

Subsection 2. Known crimes: [CLASSIFIED]

Subsection 3. Timeline: The first reported appearance of Radiant Midnight was registered ten years ago. A man matching his description arrived an an inn in the town of Llanfair. A pair of our brothers was staying there, on their way to convey a magic user to her execution. Somehow, Radiant Midnight managed to murder them and free the prisoner. Ever since, the accounts of his crimes only continued.


WHAT THE ENEMY DOESN'T KNOW

Spoiler

To his allies and fellow mages, Julius is a completely different person. He makes it clear that he'd do anything to help his people, and delivers on that promise. He's willing to take on just about any assignment, and works as hard as he can. Even when staying at the base, he's usually working with the research division or making sure that everyone is comfortable. His adaptability makes it very easy for him to intuit the others' needs and preferences. He can be a treasured friend or a useful tool.

When on a mission, he's a great asset. While he is most comfortable when working under a fellow Radiant, he can take charge and lead if needed. His siblings in arms praise not only his magical power, but also his versatility and the ability to adapt. Even to the magicless, he is professional and polite.

Those gentler of heart or less violent of disposition may find it difficult to reconcile his kindly behaviour around them with the absolute contempt and loathing he feels towards the enemy. Julius doesn't just want them defeated, he wants them to suffer, beg for mercy, see their worst fears come to life. While he absolutely refuses to show any shred of mercy to those he deems unworthy, the best way to get him to stop would be to appeal to their mission ("We don't have time for this!") or to one's own sensibilities ("I don't want you to do it around me")... although the latter is just as likely to convince him to just keep out of sight.

Julius' passion for magic manifests in not only his desire to help his fellow mages, but also in a scholarly curiosity. He's always willing to discuss the particularities of someone's power, complicated theory, or just planning strategies to deal with the enemy. He constantly seeks new ways to utilize his already versatile ability, both to support the others with healing and augmenting their bodies, but also to wreak havoc among his enemies. One of his finest accomplishment is a plague he calls the Contagion of Consequence. His research on the Mordecai and the Adhara led him to develop a strain of bacteria targeting them specifically. The bacteria are kept harmless by magic - as soon as it is nullified, they wreak havoc on its source.

His greatest weapon and closest kept secret is a bargain he struck with a demon. The boon he received was the ability to endow his magic with the nature of an immortal, so that it can exist in the presence of Mordecai and Adharas. The price he pays is one cell from his body per one spell affected. The sacrificed cell cannot be regenerated, healed or replaced. He only informed his superiors of it, as it can be a factor when making plans. Another consequence of his deal was the inability to mend his wounds with his own magic - while he can improve his body and affect it with his powers, he has to rely on other healers.

Character Limitations: If you're playing a fellow mage, feel free to land hits/touches on him to your heart's content. Otherwise, case-by-case basis.

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Name: Shandar Ravindra Chandrahas
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Ethnicity: Thanati
Height: 5'8
Occupation: A representative of the Chandrahas Trading Company
Residence: On the move

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description: Shandar looks exactly like what people might expect from a Thanati. His dark skin is so smooth and unblemished, some suspect it to be the work of the flesh shapers his homeland is known for. With his high cheekbones, even lips and thin-shaped nose, he is attractive by the standards of most nations. Both his curved eyebrows and long hair are white - a colour rather common among his people. It is unknown whether it's a natural colour of dyed.

As a representative of his family, he dresses the part. He favours colourful garments made out of foreign textiles and stitched in complex geometric patterns. Since his role frequently takes him to dangerous places, he took to choosing robes that hide his movement and can be used to conceal a variety of weapons.

Spoiler

source artist's art policy (free for personal use)
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Personality: Like most of his people, Shandar places great value on family. He does his job with pride, and would put any amount of effort into success. Highly intelligent and educated, he can bargain with dogged determination and won't let himself be swindled. It is telling that he can make deals with Essyrni Merchant Princes and not come off completely ripped off.

What sets him apart from the rest of the Thanati is his attitude towards the rest of Le'raana. While his countrymen suffer from a completely justified and warranted xenophobia, Shandar spends most of his time traveling around the world and searching for opportunities for the company. He has developed an intricate understanding of the other cultures and can assimilate well enough, adapting to Serendipity's competitive environment, Essyrn's dangerous deceptions, et caetera.

Magic/Abilities:
- Excellent knowledge of trade routes, economy, bargaining and other mercantile arts
- A good fighter with a staff
- Shandar has recently been experiencing strange dreams and portents that seem to come true. His sight seems to be affected as well.

Relationships:
a) His family
- Aishwarya Ila Chandrahas, his mother and head of the Chandrahas Trading Company
- Jaswinder Murali Chandrahas, his father
- Thamarai Nalini Chandrahas, oldest sister and the heiress of the company
- Indra Ezhil Chandrahas, older brother currently working as the head of the Adelan branch
- Zafar Aditya Chandrahas, younger brother, a Maoin in training
- Amrita Pallavi Chandrahas, younger sister, training to take over the Yoreiqi branch
- Indira Anjali Chandrahas, his wife. Their relationship is rather rocky, since he spends virtually no time at home
- Lavanya Nasrin Chandrahas, his older daughter
- Rachna Malati Chandrahas, his younger daughter
- Lots of nephews, nieces, and siblings in law

History:
Shandar was born to Aishwarya and Jaswinder Chandrahas, into the Chandrahas Trading company - a well-respected firm dating back to the foundation of Thanatos. Like with most Thanati children, his life was planned for him before he was even born: both career path and later marriage. He was educated thoroughly in economy, mathematics and languages. Unlike most of their countrymen, Aishwarya and Jaswinder didn't discourage him from engaging with the outsiders - they found it important to be able to anticipate the others' needs.

He married at fifteen, but still prioritized his birth family and the duty to their company. Because of it, he rarely returned to the isles, spending most of his time traveling for Chandrahas business. He was responsible for finding new trade routes, obtaining appropriate permits from the other nations and handling a variety of minor concerns. Somehow, he managed to have two daughters, but his absence caused him to incur his wife's displeasure.

While his work is always on his mind, recently there's been another concern clouding his thoughts. He's been having strangely logical and detailed dreams that seem to be portents of the future. Whether it's a bandit attack, or a trading post burning down, it always comes true.

Character Limitations: Nothing really. He's as mortal as they come. If you want to throw a terrible dream at him, I'm all ears!

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Name: Lucien de Meavir
Age: Unknown, looks from 26 up to 39 years old
Gender: Assumed male and never bothered to correct anyone
Sexual Orientation: Since he prefers to spend coin on armour repairs than on whores, it remains unknown
Species: Human with ancestry of Kulshedra, or naga, or lizardfolk or... whatever has tails.
Ethnicity: His skin is too dark to be a pure blooded Serenian, but too light to be a Verdan or Adelan. His family tree was probably a tangled mess
Height: 5'9
Occupation: Leader of a small mercenary band called the Swiftblades
Residence: Wherever his band camps at the moment

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description: One could say that Lucien's appearance strikes a perfect equilibrium. At one side of this balance is his apparent warrior's physique - his toned, athletic body makes his occupation clear. He walks and moves with practiced grace that speaks of his experience and training. The weapons he carries, from his personal sword to the smallest throwing knife bear the marks of many battles, but are maintained well enough to serve him in the fights to come.

Opposed to his warrior self, at the other side of the medal stands a distinguished gentleman that hardly could be connected to the sweat and grime of the battlefield. When needed, Lucien can speak with unexpected eloquence and refinement. He can be likened to a chameleon or a shapeshifter, adapting perfectly to the environment and matching the interlocutor perfectly.

Most of the time, he can pass for a full human without anyone ever realizing. The only signs would be his changeable body temperature and the tail. Most of the time, he hides it in a leg of his pants - there's plenty of space in the armour, and whenever he's not wearing it, the trousers he prefers are baggy enough to conceal it. The reason for it is purely practical - he cannot control the tail well enough to use it in combat, save for one specific purpose. As there is no benefit to showing it off, and racism against hybrids can hinder his chances at getting a contract; he usually wraps it around one leg and keeps it hidden. It is an unspoken tradition of his mercenaries to either treat it as a ludicrous fake rumour "Luc has a tail, a pair of horns hidden under his hair and spilling his blood summons demons!" involve it as a part of hazing: "Boss is wearing a fake tail for your next task - you have to sneak up on him and try to pull it off!",  "Your job is to tie this ribbon around his longest body part - and stop with the smirk!"or just joke around about.

Spoiler

Source: Legends of the Cryptids game
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Personality: An excellent leader, he strikes the perfect equilibrium between being personable enough to engender loyalty and ease interacting with him, and being serious enough to avoid having his orders questioned. He makes a point of learning the names of every fighter under his command. There's just as many staying in the band out of simple mercenary need for coin as out of personal loyalty and friendship.

His employers would describe him as a pleasure to work with. He possesses a surprisingly in-depth knowledge of noble titles and addresses, which he's more than willing to use to show appropriate respect - it's as if he's personally set out to destroy the thug mercenary stereotype. His efforts are augmented with an excellent understanding of social dynamics and an instinctive way to tell how to act in a given situation.

Magic/Abilities:
- Leadership skills
- Knowledge of tactics
- Combat ability, most skilled with a shield plus sword or spear
- He has a rather situational magical ability: whenever he makes a rhythm, he can make everything in the earshot (or everything that the sound waves reach) follow it. It has earned him the nickname "the Conductor"

Relationships:
- The soldiers under his command

History: Few fighters have been with him for long enough to know. Because of it, his past before starting the squad is a common topic for gossip. When asked, he gives a rather lackluster response. He lived in a completely ordinary village, was picked up by bandits masquerading as army recruiters, managed to escape this life after a few years with some comrades, then became a sword for hire. While there's really no reason to doubt the story, some of the more imaginative Swiftblades like to invent more complex backstories for him.

The rest of the story can be gotten from the other founding member of the Swiftblades, an aged elf named Disval. She and Lucien used to work together in another squad, the Valiant Hawks, but they didn't like its leadership. Together with a few others - none of whom survived to the present day - they left and formed the Swiftblades.

Character Limitations: Friendly bro interactions such as clapping him on the shoulder or slugging an arm around him are fine. Please do not respond for him or assume his behaviour. Fights can be approached on a case-by-case basis, or mutual understanding.

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 Fortunately, the personal quill Research Assistant Lyra was assigned, survived yesterday's fiasco. "Just a moment" she promised, searching the mess that has been made out of the lab for an ink puddle or something close enough. She estimated that the iridescent pond by the door was too far from the shelves to contain anything dangerous and bent down to dip the quill in it. The strange substance bubbled questioningly at her.

"Sorry for the mess" she muttered, her nerves frayed to ribbons thin enough that she was now making excuses to the delivery gnome. "It should be safe now." Those words were spoken with more confidence than the rest - while she was as much at a loss about what to do with Silence Within, she trusted her knowledge of its mechanics. If there was any bad consequence of the mess, it would have triggered when its cause was still present.

She examined the package. One celestite crystal, ready for the ritual. "For all the good it'd do." She suddenly realized that she's spoken her thoughts out loud. Oh no! The last thing she needed was to make a reliable supplier think Lyra doubted her wares! "I mean, I'm sure the crystal is of high quality. I just, well, don't know if anything would work against this stupid curse."

__________________QUICK STATS
Name: Lost to history. He's mostly known in modern times as Rimefinger, Sovereign of Snowstorms and Symphonies, the Aurora Rider. No one alive remembers the name he bore before, and no records remain of it.
Age: Ancient. The earliest records of tales that might have featured him date back to thousands of years ago.
Gender: Overall accepted to be male, little evidence or speculation to the contrary
Species: His appearance matches in broad strokes what one might expect from a human, but only the ignorant would assume that he is one. There is a varying amount of evidence supporting theses of ice wraith, some sort of a snow spirit, a rare kind of Fae or something yet undescribed by scholars.
Ethnicity: Hard to say. Due to his pale skin and facial structure, most would assume that he hails from the the northern lands. As it is unknown whether his most agreed upon appearance is original, or just a product of shapeshifting or illusions, any discussion would require quite a lot of shaky assumptions.
Height: 5'8
Occupation: Would "folklore myth of unknown origins" count?
Residence: Gravenhall, best described as a synthesis of an glacial formation and a castle hewn entirely out of ice. It is located at the west wall of the Mistfloe glacier, deep to the north of Hyoite

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description: Strangely, on this matter most sources are consistent. For all intents and purposes, he appears to be a pale, thin man - most probably it's only the way mortal eyes interpret his form. His fair hair surrounds his face in a soft halo, barely long enough for that. Beneath it hides a high forehead, its lower border demarcated by a pair of thin brows. Below lies a pair of pale blue eyes, framed by fair eyelashes. A thin nose divides his face, hanging over thin lips. His high cheekbones and subtle jawline keep the shape of his face somewhere between triangular and round. His slender neck is rarely seen, mostly hidden behind puffed up collar or a coil of shawls. Almost no other scrap of skin remains exposed; he dresses appropriately for the freezing temperatures, as if the cold weather could still affect him.

Strangely, his garments resemble more what a wealthy Serenian or Connlaothian would wear for the winter, rather than the more practical outfits sewn by the Hyoite natives. Visual and written depictions usually describe some kind of a long winter coat, reaching to the ground. The patterns and fabric vary, but no one has ever seen or described him wearing anything in colours other than shades of white and blue.
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Personality: The sources on the matter are highly irregular, so they should be taken with a grain of salt. The passage of time could also account for inconsistencies, explaining them as changes in character. Some tales describe him as a trickster character, fond of playing with any poor fool that entered his domain, visiting trials upon travelers and testing their virtues. In others, he is an undeniably helpful presence, willing to give directions and information to the mortals who come upon Gravenhall. There are a few mentions of him giving sanctuary to those in need, albeit only as a temporary arrangement - all beings capable of surviving the bitter cold of the north are too powerful to ever require such help.

Magic/Abilities:
- Rimefinger: His touch can elicit a variety of effects connected to the low temperatures, from conserving provisions through inflicting frostbite, to completely freezing the target. His clothing seems to be immune, and there are accounts of interaction with magic that imply existence of ways around it. As evidenced by Tale of Three Hunters, fire magic seems to be an excellent counter to it, as he was unable to freeze a phoenix; several shield spells seem to nullify the effects as well.
- Sovereign of Snowstorms...: He seems to be able to effect Hyoite's weather in some way. Whenever he's depicted outside of Gravenhall, there is always a blizzard accompanying him. It is unknown whether it's voluntary, or just a side-effect. Several villages treat him like a spirit or god of a sorts, making offerings to gain his favour.
- ... and Symphonies: The hallways of Gravenhall are long and winding, their strange sloped walls and bizarre shapes make the gusts blowing through play a strange melody. He appears to be able to direct the air somehow, using the entire place as his instrument.
- Aurora Rider: His domain over Hyoite's skies is not limited to snowstorms and winds - he is also able to influence the northern lights, as if weaving its colours.

Relationships

History: His first appearance that the scholars accept is dated for over a thousand years. It is an account by a group of explorers that took notice of a strange new ice formation west of Mistfloe. Their journey towards it yielded the first description of Gravenhall, a place that Aurora Rider seems to be tied to. While the only indication of his presence is a throwaway line about a strange figure seen on an inaccessible balcony, its identity can be safely assumed, as there was never any indication of anyone else living within Gravenhall.

What follows is several centuries of sightings - hunters reporting seeing a strange figure walking through the storms, skygazers describing an indistinct form weaving the aurora into eerie patterns, a few travelers bringing back tales of a spirit taking human form. The myth was slowly spreading - while in the majority of Hyoite it has failed to catch on, there were some small communities that accepted it as a part of their beliefs. Some offerings were made - and, as far as everyone knows, accepted.

While the villages in question believe that those offerings earned them the Rimefinger's favour, there is not enough correlation to prove that they were the cause behind his more frequent appearances in the centuries to come. Rather than remain a mysterious figure at a distance, the Aurora Rider chose to engage with people more directly. There is a surprising amount of accounts written by people who visited Gravenhall or came across him in the tundra. While in some cases they came out of such an encounter richer at least in experience, there are also reports of unlucky men tricked or deceived by him.

Character Limitations: He's less powerful than he appears to be. It's fine to move him if the situation calls for it (for example, if in my post he suggested to show your character the way to X, you can describe them going to X in yours). Minor physical handling is fine, especially if your character is protected from the cold.

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__________________QUICK STATS
Name: Widdershins
Age: Seventy curses
Gender: Greencap
Species: Lesser faerie
Ethnicity: Boggart
Height: 8 inches
Occupation: Mischief maker
Residence: The mound under the alder tree

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description: A scrawny little creature with a malicious spark in his eyes. Her brownish skin proudly displays a variety of warts and spots, each hiding its own story. The green cap marking her kith is covered in various kinds of filth that makes it very hard to guess its original colour; even the flower petal stuck in it is dried and crumbling. Her clothing is clearly not a priority - the old spiderweb skirt has long since lost its whiteness, and the vest woven from hair has plenty of holes. At least the old boots of leprechaun-make still retain their quality.
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Personality: She's a nasty little piece of work. She takes some sort of twisted pride in his work, and few things please her more than playing a spiteful prank on unsuspecting mortals. She clearly has little need for friendship or company, eager to chase away anything that intrudes upon him. Her attitude only changes in the presence of higher ranking Fae (or clever impostors thereof), which turns her from a caustic hag into a sycophantic toady.

Magic/Abilities
- Her urine has an ability to accelerate oxidation in organic substances. Don't let her piss in your milk
- Can make her hands move very fast, able to knot a pony's mane in a few seconds
- While she cannot produce changelings good enough to replace a human baby, she has assisted in kidnappings before
- While in the wild, she is capable of waylaying travelers and making them go lost. When aided by others of her kind, she can even make them stray into the land of the Fae

Relationships:
- Begone!

History

Character Limitations:

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__________________QUICK STATS
Name: He has many. Dantalian, the Seventy-First Spirit. Agaliarept, the taker of secrets. Bifronze, the keeper of doors. Morgain Straggen, the merchant of miracles
Age: It would take an entire division of mathematicians to calculate it in human years
Gender: Usually male. He can shapeshift into a variety of bodies of any gender, and has done so over the ages.
Species: Demon
Ethnicity: Hellish
Height: Hard to determine in a shapeshifter. Most of the time, he determines it based on the target's psychology, to either tower over an easily intimidated mortal, or to appear smaller in order to lure them into a false sense of security.
Occupation: Demonic Prince of the Seventh Circle, former General of the Fifth Legion, currently a passionate pact maker
Residence: A small pocket realm of Nehemoth, serving as his personal abode

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description:
As a shapeshifter, he is capable of assuming pretty much any form he is capable of imagining and shaping into existence. Most of the time, he takes an appearance of a creature similar in species to the mortal he is bargaining with, out of courtesy as much as in order to better manipulate them. However, living for so long taught him that mortals place undue emphasis on the visual aspect, and therefore it would be convenient for them if he had one 'usual' form he would utilize in most of his deals. For this purpose, he prepared himself the shape later called Rainwashed Twilight.

The Rainwashed Twilight looks downright drab in the multi-spectral eyes of other demonkind, but works well when communicating with mortals who have trouble taking a brighter-dressed demons seriously. Pale skin, grayish blue eyes and hair (superfluous, really, but he's willing to keep up appearances for the sake of etiquette and comfort of his customers), even two pairs of horns to better match the mortals' image of what he should look like. They were quite cumbersome, though - by now he's had enough time to get used to them and not ruin his cultivated image with a low-placed door frame. The black armour is actually purely decorative. Considering his power, there is few things that can truly harm him - and armour wouldn't defend him from most of those.
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Personality: For a demon, he is surprisingly civil and polite. While he has no aversion to pain and violence to speak of - and is quite adept at doling it out - he considers it to be a resort of those too foolish to find a better way. For him, stooping to the physical level is like an admission of defeat - if one cannot best an opponent by wits or words, they may as well be the loser. This is, however, closer to a personal taste than any moral code - should a deal or situation require him to dirty his hands, he wouldn't lose sleep over it.

He is a connoisseur of fine arts and culture, but also mortal psychology. His interest in deals and bargains stems from it - rather than aim to gain greater power, he is far more interested in seeing what mortals do with the power he's given them. This led to a quite personalised approach when handling them - he orders his minions to extensively spy on his 'customers' in order to find our their weaknesses and figure out the best deal to give them.

Magic/Abilities:
- Usual demonic powers, including but not limited to: shapeshifting, transportation and magic
- He's in possession of a powerful magical artifact, called the Leyeght. It allows him to spy on one person at a time, offering both real-time surveillance and selective view of their past. He uses it to investigate customers and later watch the effects of the deal they made.
- His main specialty and most favoured ability is to weave the strands of fate into a bargain for a mortal to benefit from. Only a mortal can enter such a contract - fates of the immortals and demons are too tangled for even him to work.
He sees the flow of karma and balance of the universe and manipulates it in order to create a blessing and a curse. The equilibrium between those two elements makes it so that the balance of the world is not disturbed, making it very efficient for him to use. Other demons use their own power to create the effect they promised their contractors rather than play accountant with the force of the universe - in comparison, he retains most of his personal power.
This style of deal-making is not something a lot of people are familiar with, and most of his customers believe that their curse is a part of the deal. However, he is more interested in seeing new outcomes than creating a perfectly balanced bargain - should a need arise, he's willing to use his power to compensate in order to produce the desired result. He watches a mortal contracted to him, and would intervene if they were in mortal peril. This clause is not something he ever tells them - the last thing he wants is for them to just rely on his power rather than the bargain they purchased.

Relationships:
- His fellow demons. Most of the time, he treats them the same way he treats mortals and prefers to deal with them through contracts and pacts. His attitude provides them with a measure of certainty, comfortable knowledge that any favour he would demand would be repaid.
- Chayyliel, former Angel of Fortitude whom he's defeated and whose power he's absorbed
- The people with whom he's made pacts.

History: His ascent to his current position was mostly owed to the great general of Hell, Berith. Berith was more than a master of war, he was almost War itself, as close to embodying the ideal as one can possibly get. It was the only thing he was ever interested in - any other way of interacting with others was just a chore. In order not to have to lower himself to such level, he created a servant to do it in his stead.

Dantalian fulfilled the role he was created to play perfectly. He spoke with Berith's allies, inspired the troops and reached out to valuable mortals to recruit them. This last duty was one he enjoyed most. While his fellow demons were creatures of cold calculus and math, always choosing the path of greatest benefit, each mortal was plagued with a different bouquet of flaws and failings, things that prevented them from choosing the 'best' path. Some would pursue revenge at the cost of their own lives. Some were willing to cripple themselves for short term gain. It had become almost a game to him, trying to predict what terribly misguided decisions they'd make, what they were willing to sacrifice.

Demons have more enemies than just each other, and at some point, Berith's machinations have grown dangerous enough to draw the attention of angels. Dissatisfied with this obstacle to his conquest, the hellish general dispatched his forces to handle the threat. Dantalian's unit was caught in an ambush by Chayyliel, Angel of Fortitude. The demon fought him in a duel and somehow prevailed, killing his opponent. The angel's power sought the closest compatible vessel to rest within, and it so just happened to be the enemy who's brought him down. While those circumstances made Berith and his officers suspicious of potential corruption, the power itself could not choose how it was expressed, and was subject to whomever held it. In a demon, it manifested as a fascination with mortal endurance, and a desire to bring it to its very limits - something Dantalian would soon have a chance to make his life's work.

Berith's warlike nature ended up being his undoing, and his arrogance led him to throw himself into a battle even he couldn't win. His generals have either fallen or went into hiding. Dantalian saw it as his chance, taking some of the remains of Berith's power base, and assisting other demons in taking the rest in exchange for temporary nonaggression pact. Finally, he would be his own master.

From that time on, he kept himself rather separate from the affairs of his fellow demons. His specific way of making deals left him with plenty of personal power, which was enough of an incentive for others to leave him alone and not take risks. It was for the best - he far preferred the unpredictable company of mortals and watching their struggles.

Character Limitations: The usual - please don't act/think for him, and I will reciprocate.

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__________________QUICK STATS
Name: Luchtaine
Age: Impossible to express in numbers
Gender: Fae
Species: Fae
Ethnicity: Galvanised
Height: 9'0, can shapeshift to change it
Occupation: Smith
Residence: Clockwork Mountain in the Fae realms

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description:
credit to Zhengyi Wang, Guild Wars 2: Path of Fire concept art
Luchtaine's true form is one of wonder and terror, a massive construction of metals rarely seen in the world of mortals. One could compare his appearance to one of a masterfully crafted armour. From a massive chest that doubles as a furnace, to four powerful arms that can withstand any heat, with long thin fingers that double as tongs. From the furnace-chest spring extended metal folds compared by some well-mannered calamari to tentacles. They hide a variety of compartments outfitted with drills, vices and a variety of tools mortals have not invented yet, all to attend his craft.


Personality: Granted the power of Glamour like all Fae, Luchtaine can make himself enchanting and attractive to mortals. While he has little love for socialisation, he can see the purpose in cultivating important elements of his craft. His particular brand of Fae charm makes him appear an expert on the subject, the kind of a gripping lecturer everyone listens to with bated breath and feels so much more knowledgeable after.

While Luchtaine is perfectly capable of acting charming in order to get a chosen mortal to cooperate, or foster something he finds interesting, it is but a facade. The only thing he is truly interested in is his work. He structures his life around it into a duality: a period of wandering, searching for inspiration and new exotic materials to work with; and a period of frantic, intense creation at his home. Unlike a lot of craftsmen who are very peculiar about their finished work, refusing to hand it over to the unworthy; Luchtaine has little interest in what happens to his pieces once he's done. Even if someone manages to destroy a creation he's slaved over for more than a mortal lifetime, he will just react with interest, eager to learn the particulars. The way he sees it, each and every thing that comes out of his forge is so brilliant that not even the greatest fool could actually misuse it.

Magic/Abilities
- Typical Fae abilities, such as shapeshifting, glamour and the power to move between his home and the realm of mortals.
- The Forge of History: Luchtaine has the power to steal away abstract concepts and forge them into his great works. Whenever he's not working at his current project, he walks among mortals in order to find something worth taking.

Relationships

History: In most of the stories he's mentioned, Luchtaine appears briefly, usually cited as the source of whatever wondrous item one of the characters is wielding. The tales in which he takes a more active role are rare, clearly indicating that he is more interested in his craft than any other actions.

Those uncommon stories feature him as a villain, wild card or even a deus ex machina at times. Luchtaine's appearance is foreshadowed by his presence bleeding into the world of mortals before he sets foot (well, appendage) on their soil. Twigs or seeds thrown on the ground, rather than fall into a chaotic pile, arrange themselves into shapes of gears or working tools - vices, hammers, levers. Craftsmen and engineers benefit from his arrival, for they find their bodies yielding to their will, allowing them to work longer without succumbing to the needs of their body. They would benefit from having their skills enhanced, their measurements gaining greater precision, their observations providing deeper insight.

Few rare fairy tales include the characters raiding the Clockwork Mountain for what it holds. While they have to deal with traps and sentinels constructed by Luchtaine, the smith himself never appears; it is clear that he does not find intruders to be important enough to stop his work, and he cares little for what he already completed being stolen. One could deduce that it is possible to lure him out into the open, should someone steal something so important to his current work that it could not be replaced.

Character Limitations: Let me decide whether an attack/action affects him, and I'll do the same with you.

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