Name:
Galendrial Valerrose
Nickname(s):
Gale
Gala (Mostly by Alyce)
Title(s):
Non Yet
Age:
24
Gender:
Human
Species:
Human, though there might be a little bit of something less mundane in there somewhere too.
Ethnicity:
Adelan/Serenian
Height:
5'9
Occupation:
Dragon Rider/Monster Hunter/Military Scout
Residence:
Adela



Birthplace:
Adela
Affiliation(s):
Adelan Dragon Riders
Adelan Military
Saticc Osbeka- Fellow monster hunter and scout, whom Gale has come to regard as something of a brother figure. Sometimes, he's not sure who's supposed to be the elder in their relationship.
Dragon- An as of yet unnamed, previously feral, dragon Gale somehow found himself bonded too. Suffice to say he's still in training and is, if possible, even more clueless at how respectable civilisation works than his human. Probably a general source of exasperation and annoyance from the rest of the civilised dragon population.
Appearance:

Tall but slight, Gale goes against the Adelan norm a little, with his wiry frame and pale skin. This is down to his Serenian heritage, but his eyes are very much a trait of his Adelan genes; a vibrant orange colour, they can reflect warmth in a way that almost seems to emulate flames themselves, or a chilling cold like the strongest blizzard. With dark hair an off-shade of black, streaked with the occasional strand of richer red, he has certainly thrown further to Adela than Serendipity.

Tough and fit, Gale's small frame is certainly not without muscle. While not quite conforming to the standard of tall, broad folk that Adela generally breeds, he has the strength to hold his own in a fight, but his true strength is stamina. As a general rule, he is never without his dragon, but should the need ever arise, he would be more than capable of covering a great deal of land on his own two feet. Likewise, this stamina transfers into his fighting as well Generally a long distance fighter, he keeps the enemy on their toes and inevitably tires them out before swooping in with the finishing blow. He also has the training to fight in the air, generally with bow and arrows, though he also carries a short, curved blade as well.
Personality:
Gale is a bit of a mess, though not nearly as bad as his dear friend Alyce. While, on first meeting, he might appear cool, collected, focused, and like he knows exactly what he wants in life and precisely how to get it, the truth is a little different. Due to an extremely sheltered childhood, he really has not the slightest clue how the world actually works. Fighting, flying, and recreational arts are about the only thing he really has a handle on in his life, the rest is all a bit of a muddle. He has little to no knowledge of social norms and could honestly be perceived as a little naive, definitely too trusting. He does have some smidge of an ability to detect a lie, but if it's someone he knows and or trusts, that wariness goes completely out the window.

Kind and generally honest to a fault, Gale has little idea of tact and will most often just say whatever he believes to be true in the current situation. He does have a filter, if only barely, and will try to be compassionate if he sees someone having a hard time, though, still, always honest. He's quick to make promises he probably can't keep, and has something of a Good Samaritan complex, but always means well at heart. To some, he might be a little intense, but the truth is he's just incurably curious and wants to learn everything he can about the world and its people, starting from home. More often then not, this curiosity and general lack of any real world experience gets him into some shape of trouble or another, but the realisation that he is mostly just a clueless idiot generally gets him back out of it.
Abilities:
Archery- Gale is a talented bowman, capable of making clean shots from midair atop a dragon's back. His aim is impeccable and finely honed, a skill he crafts most every opportunity he gets. It's hardly a rarity to see him taking potshots at trees, pottery, or any other item he spies that might make for a challenging shot.
Swordplay- While he carries a short, curved blade, the bow is definitely Gale's preferred weapon of choice. He's skilled with the blade, it's true, but he doesn't love the craft as he does his archery, and that shows in his generally lacklustre performance with it. When push comes to shove, he can definitely use it to defend himself and fight back, but his preference is to stay at a distance and tire his opponent out, not get up close and personal.
Healing- Possibly his most valuable gift, Gale inherited the magic of Serendipity from his father's heritage. While not the strongest of magic welders, he is able to heal shallow to moderate injuries and sicknesses, and at least ease the suffering of those with greater afflictions. While his ability was once more of a subconscious one, he has honed it over the years and is now mostly able to focus it when he most needs it. All the same, an aura of calm and soothing seems to surround him constantly, a fact that may help soothe over some of the bigger scrapes he's gotten himself into.
Background: 
Born into one of the wealthier, military centred families of Adela, Gale was raised from a young age to be a soldier. Kept away from the outside world in favour of his studies and training, he spent much of his youth attempting - and ultimately failing - to escape his family home and see the world. Knowledge of how the outside world worked was deemed not necessary by his extremely strict parents, worthless information that would only distract him from his true goal in life - being a good soldier. As such, his expression of interest into becoming a Dragon Rider somewhere around the age fifteen was like a godsend to his harried parents.

Fast forward a few years and Gale was a well bonded Dragon Rider, finding the friendship he had sought from the outside world in his Dragon companion, Illysial. They became an inseparable unit, doing most everything together, until, finally, he was sent on his first mission.

It was a disaster, but not for a reason anyone could predict.

Charged with scouting duty, as a relatively junior member of the unit, Gale was sent ahead of the group to survey the land ahead of them. All seemed to be going well, exceptionally so, until he unwittingly flew into the hunting ground of an elder Griffin. Unprepared and taken by surprise, Gale and Illysial didn't stand a chance. By the time the rest of the unit caught up, Illysial was dead and Gale gone. He had fled, panicked and agonised by the death of his bonded dragon. Injured and alone, he wandered for some time before stumbling across another of the Griffin's victims; a young, wild dragon. Badly injured, the dragon was unable to fight him off, and already mourning the loss of one of the great beasts, Gale couldn't not help him.

A few days later, he returned to Ketra, mounted atop a feral dragon and carrying the scars of losing his Illysial, but somehow held together by a tentative bond with this new beast. An honourable discharge and general distancing from his family later, he found himself with a sudden freedom to explore the world. And explore he did, right up until he found himself and his dragon spending the night in the stockades for ""stealing"". Soon after that, he met Alyce, and things just went downhill from there.

Character Themes:

Current Threads  Soon^TM
Complete Threads

Name:
Kytorin Aryan
Nickname(s):
Kyto
Title(s):
Lord Aryan - former
Commander Aryan - former
Age:
56
Gender:
Male
Species:
Human
Ethnicity:
Connlaothian
Height:
5’11
Occupation:
Retired Soldier - former
Mercenary
Residence:
La’Marri - former
Not Applicable



Birthplace:
Reajh
Affiliation(s):
Connlaothian Army -former

Fiachna Unofficial wife of four years and the father of his child

Kanimir His and Fiachna’s son.
Appearance:

Tall and broad, Kyto strikes an imposing figure. He has a hard face, seeming perpetually set in a displeased scowl, and pale green eyes are cold and harsh. His hair, a dark brown streaked with the odd strand of silver, is long enough to touch his shoulders, though front portion is almost always tied back in a half-ponytail. A full beard hides the lines of his jaw, grown out into two thin braids on each side of his chin and fastened with thin, silver clasps. A wide array of scars decorate his pale skin, but perhaps the most impressive is the arcing gash hidden beneath his armour, a mark that reaches across his back from left hip to right shoulder in constant evidence of the near-death he survived.
Personality:
While once a charming young man, dedicated to his country and determined to fulfil the paths laid out for him by his family, Kyto has been jaded and chilled over the years of his life. While still a firm believer in the Connlaothian way, he is now very much a man for himself and little else.

Bitter and tired, he comes across as entirely disinterested upon first meeting. That would be mostly true, though he might eventually warm up to someone were they persistent enough. Kyto is mostly stuck in the past, angry and vengeful towards those who wronged him, and he is so focused on that anger that he often forgets the wonder of the world around him. While there may still be some vestige of a good man in him, the loyal, charming soldier is long buried, and it doesn’t take much to make him lash out in rage and frustration. Short tempered and irritable, he makes a fairly poorly travelling companion, and as such, leads a mostly lonely life, a fact that only adds to his stellar personality.

Living mostly on the road and earning a living as he goes, Kyto cares little for the plight of the common people, responding only to calls of aid that promise payment and, on the rear occasion he feels altruistic enough to help out without the offer beforehand, he makes sure to get what he’s owed after the fact, one way or another, be it in gold, or something he deems of equal value.

Abilities;
A talented swordsman, Kyto carries a broadsword that, once upon a time, ran in the Aryan family line. It’s name is decidedly tainted, now, used as little more than a tool, rather than the treasure and honour it once was. Still, he keeps it in good condition, preferring to look after what he has than have to deal with the bother of finding a replacement.
Background: 
8D

* Born the second eldest child of the Aryan family. Had careful plans laid out for his life and did his best to follow them. This included joining the army and fulfilling an arranged marriage by the time he was old enough.
* Met Fiachna during his time as a soldier. Inevitable fell in love with the Chaos angel and, at her urging, broke off the arranged engagement and eloped with her, scattering the family plans to dust. Eventually the two of them ‘settled’ in La’Marri, where soon after Kanimir was born.
* All seemed well for a time, Kyto was happy and his son was a healthy, bouncing bundle of trouble. It didn’t last, though, and as if sensing the trouble on the rise (a very likely prospect) Fiachna up and abandoned him only a few short months before Kanimir’s powers began to manifest. Realising he had been fooled, by what he came to consider a witch, about the same time Kanimir’s horns grew in, Kyto realised his son was a creature of magic and, that atop his heartbreak at Fiachna’s disappearance and betrayal, something in him broke.
* Tried to raise Kanimir in his own jagged way, unable to cope with the fact his child was a creature of magic and trying his very best to beat it out of him, sometimes literally. Swung between bouts of fury regarding what Kanimir was and periods of trying to patch things over, during which he taught his son to fight with weapons and his hands, rather than the curse in his blood.
* Eventually, during a hunting outing from La’Marri with Kanimir and a few others, Kyto was wounded by travelling bandits when he got in the way of their attack on a small village, earning his jagged scar across his back. Believing his father deceased, Kanimir unleashed his magic on the bandits, slaughtering both them and the entire village, before fleeing. Heavily wounded and alone, Kyto managed to drag himself back to the woods, where he was found by the rest of the hunting party inches from death’s door. They were able to save his life, but what little warmth had been left in him had died at the sight of what his son had done, the way he fled without a backwards glance, and only shortly after his recovery, Kyto left La’Marri for good.
* Since then, he has travelled the world, working for coin and little else. The irony of how alike to the bandits and thieves he once fought against he has become has not occurred to him, for bitter anger and vitriol are a powerful shield. He wonders what happened to his son, sometimes, or if Fiachna is still alive. For both, his reasoning is vengeance, the desire to make right the wrongs done by him, and when he heard word of the ‘Chaos Assassin’ flitting between Connloath and Serendipity, he knew exactly who they spoke of. He hasn’t yet had a chance to ‘catch up’ with his son, but the day draws ever closer.

Character Themes:
No Mercy

Current Threads
Complete Threads

---

Night falls over the foothills of the Kilanthro Mountains like a shroud. Dark, hazy clouds hang in the sky, blocking what little light might have been provided by a wan moon, sickly and pale. Kanimir's breath frosts in front of his face, ghostly in the chill wind, and he tugs his coat slightly closer around his frame. He's lost feeling in his toes, tough and hardy boots of leather perhaps not best suited to the snow crunching underfoot, and he wraps his free arm back around his torso to keep his coat close. His other hand is held up in front of him, sparks and cracks of red and gold bouncing around in his palm and between his fingers as a source of light in the cloying darkness.

He had hoped to make better time, reach the foothills before dusk. But, as usual, circumstances had changed, they had been slightly waylaid, and those precious hours that should have been put into the journey were lost. It's not the first time he's made this particular climb in the dark, nor does he doubt it will not be the last, but he can't deny he feels poorly for his companion. Glancing back, he half turns to illuminate her, sparks flaring brighter in an ever so tightly controlled effort to add a little more light to their path. At the very least, he had managed to convince Keithia to actually acquire more than an oversized shirt before this particular leg of their journey, quite certain that, nature nymph or no, she would be frostbitten and hypothermic before they even made it to Rienna if she didn't.

Satisfied that she was still a few paces behind him, if looking slightly miserable, he turns back ahead, squinting through the darkness and snuffing the magic in his palm for a moment when his eyes catch the faintest outline - there. Lights twinkle in the distance, and he lets out a relieved huff of air, adjusting his bag straps across his chest and turning back towards Keithia.

"Almost there." He says, voice almost lost in the wind wailing gently around them, and pushes his chilled body forwards, snow crunching underfoot in a way that is quietly satisfying. The village is less than twenty furlongs away, and the prospect of a hot bath and a tankard of something strong to warm his innards is motivation enough to push his chilled limbs forwards once more.

Perhaps, tomorrow, he might look at buying them both some furs. Again. He really should stop loosing his travelling apparel during the interim between countries. Then again, it's not like he needs furs in Adela, and his likes to travel light.

The village draws ever closer, twinkling lights drawing them on like beacons in the dark.

@SanctifiedSavage

Belatedly realised I should probably do another of these, but, better late than never.

So basically me and my family are shifting house after living in the same place for 30+ years, which is a pretty big event, as you can imagine. As such, I'm going to continue not being on for a little while as we get everything sorted out and settled in at the new place. So yea, basically just a heads up that it will be quite a while again before those posty replies come in.

Thanks for your patience, y'all, ya really are the best group o' chums. ;)

@DragonSong @SanctifiedSavage @InvitedPanda

Name:
Ash
Age:
17
Gender:
Male
Species:
Draconian (species under development)
Ethnicity:
Connlaoth
Height:
6'0
Occupation:
Currently: Slave
Soon, maybe: Sentinel of Shinrai




Birthplace:
Draconi Forest
Affiliation(s):
To Be Updated

Appearance:


It doesn't take much of a look to determine that Ash is inhuman. Where humans have skin, he has scales, silver in colour and bright enough to reflect most light. There are three places where the colour of the scales change; his neck, and both collarbones. Here, there are birthmarks in a deep, royal blue that fades out across the edges of the scales and adds a contrast to the potentially monochromatic tones of his scales. His body physique and long, creamy blond hair are perhaps his most human aspects, while his eyes are a deep rusty red, fading out to a more mustard-y colour at the edges, with a dark blue iris.

Two small, slightly curved horns of a smilier colour to his skin, if slightly darker, protrude from under Ash's untamed hair, pointed and surprisingly strong. They are a permanent body part, and would not grow back if cut or damaged in any way. He also has a long, fluffy golden tail, long enough to wrap around his torso to keep it out of the way in a fight or just to avoid it being trodden on, with a large tuft of golden fur at the tip.

Personality:
Ash appears as a very private person, preferring to keep to himself and out of the way rather than holding even the slightest conversation. He has an air of nervousness around him, a static energy, and always seems to be waiting for the next infliction of unpleasantness on his life. He is usually very anxious to do what is asked of him as quickly and efficiently as possible, and will easily become flustered if he believes he has failed in a task or disappointed someone in any way.

Despite this, he can actually be quite open and kind to some, compassionate even. He cares a great deal about the safety and wellbeing of innocents, and would do anything to protect even a total stranger. He is extremely awkward around others, even people of his own age, as he has little knowledge of how he is expected to interact with others and simply shuts down to avoid dealing with the situation; hence why he appears so cold on first meeting. He still knows joy and love, anger and sadness, but so rarely does he interact with others in a more casual, social way, that such emotions have become somewhat stunted, repressed even.

Attachment to anyone or anything is something Ash dreads, and his tendency to close off and become hostile when a conversation turns personal is a self defence mechanism against becoming tied to anyone. He wants nothing more than a place to call home, a real home, and a family he can trust, but he does not trust himself to be able to judge where such a place might lay. Also contributing to this difficulty, he finds it extremely hard to place his trust in others, regardless of what they might do to win his faith. He does, surprisingly, have a sense of humour that has a habit of popping up at the worst moments, for instance, the middle of battle, or when things look dire.

His humour is regularly wry, sarcastic, or a bitter truth veiled in a thin coat of mirth. Unfortunately for those who might persevere enough to spend a little bit of time with him, he has a veritable arsenal of one-liners and puns he won't hesitate to employ, often surprising people with sudden bursts of random wit.

Ash is also smart, and a quick-thinker. He has a head for planning and excels at strategising on the move or in the thick of a battle. He is truly pessimistic in that he never bothers to plan too far ahead in the inevitable event something will go wrong, but his plans are almost always pragmatic and clean, even if he pulls them out of thin air in a span of two seconds. He revels in a challenge to his wit, enjoying the test to his intelligence, and once he has accepted one he won't stop until it's done.

Under all of this, Ash carries around a deep sense of guilt and self-loathing. He was raised to think of himself as nothing more than a weapon, a means to an end, and his self-esteem is incredibly low as a result. The scars he has gained are many, and almost all hidden beneath the scales, and the instincts to react as little as possible, or in the most submissive way he can, are as ingrained as the need to eat.

Abilities:
Fire Resistance:
As a Draconian, Ash's scales are almost completely resistant to all heat. Be it from the sun, a forge, or any other kind of external heat, most all will bounce right off his 'skin' harmlessly. There are some extreme forces of heat and flame that could potentially break through his natural defences, but he has yet to encounter them.

Fire Control
Ash can control and create fire and heat around him as he sees fit. This power comes from his core aura, or 'Dragon's Heart' and while very powerful, is not limitless. There is only so much energy he can use before becoming exhausted, and to push himself too far could potentially be life threatening. Once he has exhausted his aura, Ash has to regenerate his energy, a process that can take any amount of time, depending on the conditions he finds himself in. Energy can be absorbed from the heat around him, such as heat from the sun or an external fire, or will gradually regenerate over time.

Enhanced Senses:
Ash's heritage also gives him enhanced senses that make it easier to hunt and fight. These include stronger hearing, a better sense of smell, and a sort of sixth sense that might be found commonly in prey animals, magic users or highly trained warriors; that of sensing those around you and almost being able to predict their movements. These senses do come with a catch, though, as a Draconian's eyesight is devoid of many of the main colours humans and most other species enjoy. They are almost entirely blind to most shades of green, red and yellow, and instead just see grey or blues.

Weaponry:
Ash is also a competent fighter with a spear and shield, capable of handling himself reasonably well in a magic-free environment, though it would not be his first choice. He easily has the stamina and endurance to survive in an equal match, but would be taken down fairly quickly when put up against a better trained opponent.

Background:
If you've read any of my other profiles you know that this is a major WIP...

* Born in the Draconi Forest. - Draconians typically live alone with their mate and child and remain within their own territories unless in a dire situation. Ash was raised as such and knew only his parents' attentions for some years.
* Warmongering mages intruded on their territory when he was still just a child and killed his parents and, seeing his potential for great destruction in the damage his parents caused, took him as a prisoner to be conditioned as a weapon for their crusade.
* Spent the next decade or more in the hands of various dark mages, learning to be subservient and obedient to whosoever held his chains. Went through the hands of various masters, some kinder than others, who taught him to destroy whatever was placed before him and fight like his life depended on it. On many occasions it did.
* For now, he still resides under the oppressive thumb of the latest group to have fallen into possession of him, a small group of mage bandits with a bone to pick and a bad attitude. Soon, though, that may change.

Character Themes: 


Current Threads:
Completed Threads:

Heyho, all. Just a heads up to my rp partners/prospective partners, I ain't going to be on much for the next five-six days due to irl competition event stoofs. I'll try to pop in and post when I can and'll probably be active-ish on discord, but yea.

Happy writing~

@SanctifiedSavage @DragonSong

Name:
Ambrose de Chiel
Age:
25
Gender:
Male
Species:
Human Mage
Ethnicity:
Loosely Serenian
Height:
6’2
Occupation:
Traveler, Scholar and Treasure Hunter




Birthplace:
Serendipity
Affiliation(s):
To Be Updated
Appearance:
Standing at an impressive six feet two inches, Ambrose would cut an imposing figure, with his broad and well muscled frame, were it not for the calm, peaceful air of almost child-like innocent he exudes to everyone in the area. Make no mistake, however, those large, gentle hands are just as effective at welding a sword as they are bandaging a scraped knee.

With hair a dark navy blue, and soft, expressive eyes to match, his Serenian ancestry is clearly obvious, if somewhat offset by the strong, sharp structure of his facial features; a broad, straight-set nose, almost squared jawline, and heavy, thick-set brows. Ambrose’s features are hardly off-putting though, all drawing together to create a face of rugged handsomeness. With skin a soft, reddy shade of brown and a spattering of freckles, this rugged look is slightly lost in the soft, youthful expressions of clear-to see empathy frequently displayed on his face.

Life isn’t all sweetness and sunshine with Ambrose, though. To the contrary, when he sets himself like the brick wall he really is, there is little that can escape his wide scope of vision, and his large, broad frame is hardly a detriment to the speed with which he can move.

Personality:
To Be Expanded
Raised in a small village on the edge of the Serenian border, Ambrose’s life has had little event of conflict or strife, and his personality reflects this and the kind hearted soul he is, both. Always wishing to believe the best of people, he perhaps carries an air of nativity or childishness, and maybe is so, but also has a surprisingly mature view of the world at the same time. He tends to bring out the best in people, if only through his kind, compassionate and charismatic way of living life.

While all of the above, Ambrose is by no means a push over. He will fight for what he believes in and will not allow someone he cares about to be pushed around without recompense. He is a surprisingly wise soul, sometimes surprising those around him with his ability to seem young and naive in one moment, and like a wisened scholar in the next.

Vibrant, loving, and eager to learn, Ambrose faces the world with an optimistic outlook and seems to always be looking for ways to make life better.

Abilities;
Empathy - Ambrose can feel and very vaguely manipulate the emotions of those around him. This is not a conscious skill, but something he does without even thinking about it. It can also be used on himself, when he is under extreme pressure or feeling a great deal of one emotion etc, to slightly dampen the effects of these feelings, if only for a brief reprieve.

Elemental Affinity - A talented Elementalist, Ambrose can wield all four of the major elemental categories, and a few of their sub-groups, with natural skill. He learned this through both his own experimentation and research, and from a few other talented individuals willing to help him learn.

Runesmith - The main fruit of his labours as a treasure hunter and scholar, Ambrose is slowly learning the art of Runes; the ability to draw seals or binding spells using the caster’s own energy. As of yet, he has mastered only a few basic Runes, but with every new discovery or ancient tome he finds, his skill grows.

Background: 
Oh look another MAJOR WIP how shocking

Basic Plotpoints
*    Raised in a peaceful village on the border between Serendipity and the Kilanthro Mountains, one of the few places in Le’Raana to still practice common use of Old Serenian. Due to this, Common Tongue is his second language and, while his grasp is quite solid, he still uses Common in a slightly odd way.
* Enthralled with ancient studies and learning from a young age, devoured the village’s entire ‘library’ before the age of ten and still thirsted for more.
* Left the village on peaceful terms after his coming of age, intent to travel the world and learn more about the history of the continent, and try to prevent any further traditions and peoples from falling into extinction like his first language almost had.
* Proceeded to travel the world, mostly Serendipity, Connlaoth and Adela, searching for lost knowledge, places, treasures, and peoples.

Character Themes
Learning To Fly
Cold Water

Current Threads
Drink It In ~ Rhiari|SanctifiedSavage & Rhitomi|InvitedPanda

Complete Threads

HeartOfFlame's Great Grand And Glorious Character Catalogue For Casual Perusing

---

Independents

Kanimir "Chaosbringer"
A Chaos Nephilim with a penchant for murder and adopting slaves. Owns a house full of the damn things and can't seem to figure out why he keeps getting more. May have a small adoption addiction. Currently trying to teach a slightly broken nymph how to be independent and maybe forming a slight attachment to said nymph.

Chaos And Healing, An Odd Encounter ~ Keithia|SanctifiedSavage   ~ completed
Oh Deery Me ~ Meriana|DragonSong & Keithia|SanctifiedSavage
Beware Birds Of A Feather ~ Keithia,  Yukina,  Fiachna| SanctifiedSavage & Kyto    

Tyka Ren
The first slave Kanimir adopted and current overseer of all things that happen in his overfilled house. Lives in a constant state of exasperation with her dear friend but still owes him a life debt and would never dream of abandoning him. Also technically a NPC but has far too much depth for that she'll probably have a profile soon.

Connlaoth

Ash
A Draconic fire mage who's lived as a weapon slave for the majority of his life. Sweet nervous boy, far too eager to please and capable of literally razing a moderate sized village. May or may not be joining an anti-mage extremist group some time in the future

Kyto
A bitter and angry soldier who had his life plans torn apart by  your friendly neighbourhood angel of Chaos, who happens to kinda still be his wife. Kanimir's father and grumpy about it, he's been roaming the world giving blood for coin and idly keeping an eye open for either of the two individuals he believes wronged him most in life.

Beware Birds Of A Feather ~ Keithia,  Yukina,  Fiachna| SanctifiedSavage & Kanimir

Adela

Gala
A talented young dragon rider who lost his career in the Adelan army after a tragic accident and subsequent bonding with a feral dragon. Now dedicates his life to hunting monsters alongside his dear friend and brother - Alyce

Weathering The Hunt ~ Alyce| SanctifiedSavage

Essyrn

Aurelio Sunstryer
Angry Gladiator with a brother in danger and a very large desire to murder his owner with the swords said owner 'gifted' him. Currently planning ways to also murder owner's latest 'purchase'

Are You Not Entertained ~ Nathara Chu'si|DragonSong

Eleodoro Sunstryer
Aurelio's younger twin brother, slightly less murderous and a whole lot more fun. Currently trying to stop his brother from murdering everyone. Technically an NPC at this point but we shall see what the future holds

Serendipity

Ambrose de Chiel
A travelling Elementalist with a thirst for knowledge and a strange way of speaking. Sweet boy who knows how to throw his weight around but is also incredibly innocent. Currently hunting down elusive treasures and potentially joining a pirate crew.

Drink It In ~ Rhiari|SanctifiedSavage & Rhitomi|InvitedPanda

---

To be completely honest, nature had never appealed to Kanimir all that much. It was pretty, he'd admit, and the chaotic way it overtook anything and everything in its path through sheer determination of life and will appealed to him, but all in all, he simply found it...bothersome. So many ways to die confined within one simple category of life, be it a poison fruit, deadly sap, itching leaves, treacherous waterfalls, the list went on. Nim was by no means afraid of death, he welcomed the Reaper's attempts with a fist of steel and a flashing grin, but the repeated attempts by a seemingly non-sentient entity were beginning to get vaguely vexing.

His current predicament was also nature's fault, he had decided. Every tree and leaf looked the same, every bend in a path long overtaken by grass identical to the dozen beforehand thanks to the flickering shadows of sun trying to break through thick foliage, creeping vines trailing up tree bark. Kanimir did not get lost, had been travelling the world far too long to allow such a thing, but now he found himself....waylaid. Yes, that was a good word for it.

It would be tempting to just blow up the forest, a little bit of Rivening here and there, watch the bothersome nature turn itself inside out and rip into tiny bits...but he had more self control than that. There were beings who lived in the woodlands, after all, both sentient and otherwise, and a sadistic, chaotic bastard he might have been, but they had never personally offended him or had their names stuck on a piece of paper for him to hunt, so he supposed murdering them in cold blood would be perhaps a bit extreme. Keithia was also in the forest with him, and while he was confident he could keep her from harm, he doubted the nymph would look kindly on him destroying a swathe of her nature.

Sighing softly to himself, the Chaosbringer continued to shred the large tree leaf in his hands, pale eyes roving over the surrounding area, attempting to pinpoint a source of light through the thick trees and shrubbery around him. Everything looked the same, light breaking through the foliage in deceptive patches, and he had honestly no idea when or where he had gone off the beaten path. How vexing.

To make everything worse, the forest was quiet. An oppressive silence that pressed down on him like heavy rain. He disliked it, greatly, tingles racing through his fingers with every second he sat, comfortably at least, in the 'peaceful serenity' of the woodland realm. How boring. He would have to take note to never, ever get lost in the forest again - not lost, waylaid.

He wondered how long it would take Keithia to start looking for him.

---

Sunset washed over Uthlyn like faded paint. The city was coated in varying shades of red and gold, light catching in closed windows and reflecting splinters of light back through the streets and into the sky. Clouds rolled around the edges of the picturesque sky, hemming the vibrant light of the drowsing sun in pink and orange puffs of light cotton.

Kanimir trailed a long shadow at his feet as he strode into the sun, eyes squinted in the striking rays of light falling directly into his face. The road upon which he walked was set directly west, with rows of high caste manor houses and mansions rising up on each side of him and a long path straight ahead, straight into the sun. Kanimir's hood hung loose over his head, pushed upwards by the curve of his horns, but fell just a few inches short of throwing shadows into his eyes. It was...irritating.

The Chaosbringer had been back within Connlaothian territory for less than a week, and already his services had been called for. A smile touched his lips, eyes ducking back to the hard packed cobbles beneath his feet as he walked, there was no shortage of work for a man like him, not in these fickle walls. Dukes and Duchesses, Lords and Ladies, all Nobles seemed to be cut from a very similar clothe, all only too eager to take any chance to undercut one another, outbid each other and, more often than not, have each other killed. Kanimir had no qualms being the middle man, so long as he was paid for his work, and actually found the whole thing entirely entertaining. They all thought themselves so high and mighty, so above the common man, yet here they all sat, in their pristine manors and mansions, with servant at their beck and call, squabbling like dogs over a bone. All of them had blood on their hands just as much as he did, theirs was just easier to hide.

A large, grandiose mansion rose on his right, courtyard lit by a long line of torches several feet taller than Nim, even on his tip-toes. He regarded it blandly for a moment, turned away from the sun, pales eyes raking over the entirety of the building. Roughly four stories high, he'd guess, with a multitude of high windows leading onto balconies for every floor but the ground. Plenty easy enough to get in and out of, especially with a little help from the power in his veins, if the situation went south.

He smiled, lifting the thin scarf hanging loose around his neck to cover the lower portion of his face, and moved through the courtyard, in plain sight between the towering torches. The house rose up to meet him, the roof disappearing somewhere behind the second story balcony as he reached the steps to the intricately carved wooden doors and lifted a hand to rest over the smooth, polished wood. Oh, how easy it would be to simply blow it inwards. A snap of his fingers, that would be all it took. A tingle raced through his fingertips, taunting, tempting, but he shook his head with a sigh, lifting the hand back to tug at the edge of his hood as he kicked the door in preference of knocking.

Thud thud thud

'Excuse me, Lord Harvael, your requested assassin has arrived.'

Name:
Kanimir
Nickname(s):
Nim
Title(s):
Chaotic Kanimir
The Chaos Assassin
Age:
34
Gender:
Male
Species:
Nephilim (Son of an Angel of Shogai)
Ethnicity:
La'Marri-an
Height:
5'1
Occupation:
Wandering Mercenary/Assassin
Residence:
Modest Chateau In Uthlyn, though generally lives on the road.



Birthplace:
La'Marri
Affiliation(s):
Tyka Ren - Hyoite woman Kanimir saved from slavery nearly a decade past, the start of his trend. Runs the Chateau and remains Nim's close friend.

Keithia - A nature nymph whom he freed from a life of slavery and being displayed as an inanimate trophy. Unwittingly ended up with her as his travelling companion and now somehow thinks of her as his.

Fiachna- The Angel of Discord mom he doesn't really remember beyond the fact he inherited his good looks and charm and magic abilities from her. She also, apparently, wooed his father damn good and broke his heart when she left.

Kyto- Dear old dad. Presumed dead for roughly twenty years. Unfortunately is not.
To be updated
Appearance:
The first, and most striking, feature to be noticed about Kanimir is his eyes. Thin and sharp, they hold a sinister light, but the prominent factor to their appearance is their colour; stark ivory, with only a thin shade of steel grey to signify a pupil. This is accentuated by the strange tone of his skin, an earthy colour closer to what one might expect to find on a well weathered stone than a living, breathing being, and similarly smooth. Contrastingly, his hair - cut short around his face but for a thin braid behind his left ear, then tied into a thicker, loose braid behind his head - is a dark burgundy shade, lingering between red and deep plum. It is unknown if this is natural or dyed, and Kanimir has little intention to dispel that mystery.

Breaking gently through the messy cut of hair, Kanimir also has two small horns, little more than four inches long, with a radius of roughly two inches at the base and narrowing to a sharp point in a soft S curve over the top of his skull. For facial features, he appears quite elegant in heritage, with high, smooth cheekbones, a sharp, angular nose, and defined jawline. This is slightly off-set by the large scars across the majority of his left cheek, a signature of large, hooked claws leaving four wickedly curved slashes through the skin, though some would argue the scars only add to his attractiveness.

Perhaps disenchanting for some, Kanimir is also incredibly short. Compared to the majority of those he interacts with on a daily basis, his stature is quite minimal, his body mass also appearing quite light, though toned. Despite his small size, he still cuts an intimidating figure when he wishes too, possessing the skill to make even the most hardened soldier shiver with the pure intensity of his aura. He does not appear dark, but powerful, and quite honestly, uncontrollable. He is a spirit of Chaos, as easily tamed as a live hurricane, and bows to no man.

Personality:
Vaguely WIP

Kanimir is very hard to get a read on for personality. In the space of a few seconds, he can flip from one mood to another, and change from a light, almost pleasant aura, to a dark threatening one just as fast. He is as Chaotic in personality as he is in all other aspects of his life, and gets a kick out of breaking expectations. Thinking of an assassin, most people would assume him to be cold, stand-offish, aloof, maybe even arrogant. While he certainly can be those things if he so wishes, Kanimir is actually normally be inclined to simply seem bored. He takes very little seriously and has an incredibly short attention span to anything vaguely outside his scope of interests.

Nim lives for chaos, and if none is to be found, he has no qualms making it. His respect is given rarely and certainly not to laws or rules, the only guidelines he will follow are his own. Shockingly, he does have a strong moral compass, when he so chooses to use it, and many would be surprised to learn he can be incredibly gentle and helpful to those who have been hurt, wounded, or otherwise traumatised by those around them. He has little problem slicing the throats of any in his way, or to whom he is pointed, but he will also happily throw in a job and - more often than not - rebound to the original client if he discovers that his target is not who he was led to believe they were. He takes being lied to poorly, always bluntly honest himself, and will not hesitate to rip a man apart with his words or his weapons.

To summarise, Kanimir is blunt, abrasive, often rude, and eager to enjoy life in the most chaotic, hell-raising ways he can. At the same time, he can be kind and caring to those he decides deserve it, and holds the capacity for great compassion and gentleness, if it were ever to be coaxed out of him.

Abilities;
Magic:
Courtesy of his mixed heritage, Kanimir holds power over Rivening Magic, a chaotic power capable of ripping apart most anything in its path. He has learned to master this power, and can destroy with a simple snap of his fingers. The power of Rivening Magic is not unlimited, drawing its destructive power from Kanimar's aura, and while he does hold an unusually large amount of energy, inevitably, it will run out. For this reason, he typically does not rely on his Magic, preferring to fight with fist and blade instead, though he will not hesitate in the slightest to tear someone or something to shreds should they get in his way.

Weapons Training:
Before his unfortunate death, Kanimir's father was a warrior, formerly of Connlaoth before his 'retirement' to La'Marri, therefore his son was taught much in the ways of sword play. Ironically enough, catching Nim with a sword is even less likely than predicting his mood. Instead, he favours either knuckledusters - generally pointed and brutal - or his Chakram. The Chakram is a round, disc like blade that can be split into two half-moon throwing blades, both of which are still perfectly usable for close quarters fighting as well.

Background:

MAJOR WIP

Basic "Plotpoints"
* Son of an angel of discord and the Connlaothian Warrior who managed to be woed and inevitably ruined by her.
* Grew up in La'Marri learning how to control his Rivening Magic and generally raising hell. Was generally regarded as a troublemaker and a twerp.
* Father was killed by a mercenary group while travelling outside of La'Marri. Kanimir ripped them to shreds and fled.
* Left La'Marri to become a mercenary himself, eventually earning quite a name and also moving into the territory of assassinations. Earned a reputation for being ruthless, if unpredictable, and efficient.
* Contrastingly to this reputation, he also has a habit of buying or stealing slaves and releasing them. No one, himself included, is quite sure why he does this, but it has been happening for several years now.
* Also came into possession of a modest chateau in Uthlyn as payment for a job for someone who couldn't actually afford his services. He lives in it rarely but it is open to the various conglomeration of grateful slaves and other downtrodden sods he has earned the gratitude of.
* To be expanded.

Character Themes:
Why Worry?
King

Current Threads
Oh Deery Me ~ Meriana|DragonSong & Keithia|SanctifiedSavage

Beware Birds Of A Feather ~ Keithia & Yukina|SanctifiedSavage   

Complete Threads
Chaos And Healing, An Odd Encounter ~ Keithia|SanctifiedSavage   

---

The arena is full today. It was the first thing Aurelio thought as he approached the firmly shut portcullis, dark eyes narrowed in some mix of disgust and excitement. He could feel the familiar thrill of anticipation running through his veins, burning with a fire he could never quite contain. He clenched one hand around the solid wood bars of the gate, glared at the crowd with venom as they jostled and clamoured in anticipation of the coming match. He would have liked to see them down there, in the pit, fighting in the grit and sand and blood. It was not the first time he had thought it, and he knew it would not be the last. Most of them wouldn't last five minutes. A cruel smile twisted at his lips, 'Not if I had any say in it.'

"Lio." Eleodoro called his attention away from the arena outside, his vision turning black as he moved away from the portcullis and the glaring light outside, to the dim shadows of the passageway. His armour, light and leather, scratched and worn by years of use, hung from his brother's fingers and he couldn't help the shadow of a smile that danced across his face as he stepped forward to accept it. No words passed between them as Eleodoro helped him into his armour, tying the matching braces around his arms with silent precision. He had been doing this for years, for as long as Aurelio had needed it, and they do not need to speak to know what the other is thinking, fearing.

Eleo tied off the last strap, tucking it safely behind the leather brace, and dropped his hand onto Aurelio's shoulder, contrasting pale eyes meeting Aurelio's own, and he silently leant forwards to press their temples together, hand cupped around the back of his brother's neck. Eleodoro released a soft breath, his fingers digging into the flesh of Aurelio's shoulder.

"Be careful." He whispered.

Aurelio nodded fractionally, letting his twin's presence temper a little of the fire racing through him, controlling it instead. "I always am."

The crowd cheered outside the gates, the sound echoing through the empty passageway and drawing both their gazes. Aurelio squeezed Eleodoro's arm reassuringly and collected his weaponry from its place against the wall. He faced the portcullis, head held high and stance strong, and lifted his hands to pull the loose strands of hair around his face into a tight, half-ponytail behind his head.

The chains on the gate clattered and groaned with the effort of pulling the heavy fixture upwards, and the crowd roared as he stepped forwards into the light.

What are your favorite kinds of plots and relationships to play? Mmmmmmm. I love a plot with a point, and I'm a sucker for relationships developing from enemies to grudging partners to friends etc. I'm all about that angst and suffering, too, though, but in most cases I feel like that's half the fun. I like to let the relationships grow naturally, rather than decide this person will be friends/lovers with this person way back and then forcing it to happen. Much better to let 'em grow of their own accord, I feel.

What are your least favorite kinds of plots and relationships to play? Mm. Not a big fan of plots that go nowhere and super controlling/dumpster fire relationships do nothing for me. Generally I think I'm pretty cruisy, but I'm not terribly GOOD at writing romance, so, there's that.

What are your favorite character types to play? Okay asking the tough questions now. I'll admit I have a soft spot for the damaged ones. Anything jagged of broken, haunted or abused, guilty or ashamed, selfless or sacrificial...I WANTS

Are you a planner or a pantser? Do you prefer to pre-plan and stick to a script when posting, or do you prefer to surprise and be surprised? To a certain degree, both? I like to have a rough plan of where I'm going and what I want, plus an end goal, but I'm happy to catch any curveballs as well as I can, so long as my partner doesn't mind having some thrown their way too ;)

How do you feel about group threads? Hmmm. Two or three people is probably my limit? I've played with a group of four (including myself) and that was almost too much for me to keep up with and include everybody, so I like to keep it chill, keep it relaxed, and try and cover what everybody wants a plot to entail.

How often can you reply to any given thread? How long should a partner wait before nudging you for a post? Usually I can reply a couple of times a day, though I might have odd days where I don't get on at all, and others where I can volley, so it's a toss up really. I'd say two or three days is probably a reasonable time to wait before nudging me, but anyone can feel free to poke me at any time if I'm taking a little while to reply; I don't bite!

What is the longest you're willing to wait for a reply to a thread? Generally I'm pretty patient so, if I don't get warning/an explanation a month/slightly more is probably as long as I'm willing to wait before I move on? But if you tell me what's going on/why you can't reply/just that you'll be busy for a little while I'll wait as long as you need :)

How do you feel about instant messenger RP?I can definitely do that

Ho do you feel about post volleying/rapidfire RP? Heck yes

What's your preferred posting style? Long posts? Short posts? Anything and everything? Generally I prefer long posts, so long as they don't move/assume anything about my character. I'm quite possessive and dun like other peeps powerplaying/godmoding my charas. Nothing personal, I promise, just a bad experience in the past.

Any RP styles/habits that you love? Mmmm. I love getting in the character's headspace and really attacking a scene from their emotional and psychological POV, but, really, I love pretty much all styles, so long as the posts are clear and easy to read/make sense.

Any RP styles/habits that you avoid? Really the only thing I try to stay away from is powerplaying/other people moving/speaking for/etc my characters. Like I said I'm very possessive and would never dream of doing that with someone else's character, so, yea. The only other thing I would say I dislike is rapidly changing the plot course without discussing it with your partner(s). I've had this happen before and it was very hurtful and confusing for both parties. Communication is always better than assumption :)



What are you limits regarding powerplay/godmoding? I think I covered that in the previous section, but just to clarify, please don't.

What are your limits in regards to romantic situations? Generally I'm pretty chill with it? I won't go out of my way to create a romantic relationship, but if I feel a connection has grown in that sense I'll try to nurture it/let it grow. On the subject, I'm not really a fan of relationships with big age differences or any kind of romance where one party is being forced into it/abused/etc. I'm also not that keen on super possessive relationships or argumentative ones? Like I understand couples fight but that old cliche of the guy wanting to protect the girl and the girl getting angry about it is SO old. Of COURSE he wants to protect her, he loves her, right? But so long as he's not smothering/telling her she absolutely no way cannot do something and he'll lock her in a tower if she tries, I don't see the big problem.

Okay that got long, but you get my point.

What are your limits with regards to graphic content such as sex, violence, drug use, sexual assault, etc? What is your comfort level? Okay so violence is fun and we should all stab our characters at least once. Sexual content is...icky, and I am nowhere near comfortable writing it. Implying it, fading to black after a kiss, sure, but no more. NOPE. Aside from that, yea, I'm pretty much good with anything.

What are your limits in regards to pregnancy within plots? I'm pretty okay with it, so long as it's not, like...weird.... O_o


What about healing? It depends? Like if my character was going to DIE without it, like, for realsies, than yes. Otherwise, I prefer to play it out and see what happens. Obviously if there is, like, a healer RIGHT THERE I'll get 'em some heals if possible, but basically I guess it's best just to ask first?


What about characters being transformed against their will? Basically the same as healing? It depends on the situation and the character so, yea, just ask me first and give me a chance to escape/pull out/wave my voodoo doll and save my character :)

Anything else?
I will crush their hearts one way or another :D

Name: Aurelio Sunstryer (or - rel - ee - oh) (sun-stri - a)
Nickname(s): Aurel, Lio
Title(s): Bloody Sun
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Species: Half Elf.  Human Mother - Elven Father
Ethnicity: Essyrni/Adelan
Height: 6'4
Occupation: Gladiator Slave
Residence: Essyrn currently, may change soon


Birthplace: Adela
Appearance: Aurelio is tall for an Essyrni, carrying an aura of strength and static volatility. With a height of 6’4 and a slender build, he gives off a quietly powerful vibe,  with sharp, piercing eyes accentuated by thin rings of kohl and a face made up of a combination of sharp lines fading into softer angles; A strong, sharp jawline that travels into a slightly pointed chin and high, curving cheekbones in a face that holds a look of haunted gauntness about it made more noticeable by shallow, hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. Long, slender curves make up his brows, arching over his dark lavender eyes with attractive prominence while a curved, slightly pointed nose - bent ever so gently to one side - and thin, gently peaked lips complete the elegant set of his facial features to create a seemingly constant expression of neutral indifference. 

With skin a light cocoa brown, fairer than a true Essyrni but much darker than a foreigner, his mixed heritage becomes evident, with his light auburn hair -highlighted by streaks of pale blond - only adding to the statement, while his pointed ears pay homage to his eleven heritage. Several pale scars break the smooth hue of his skin, though none mar his facial features, and a long, curving brand - one that marks him as a slave, and property of Hassir, no less - has left a permanent burn in the tender flesh under his shoulderblade. His body is well toned and built from years of fighting and surviving, but also light and somewhat gaunt from equal years starving and being beaten. His hands are calloused and scarred, strong for a punch and nimble for a blade, while his arms hold the strength and suppleness for a bow. With legs toned and muscled for running, evading, kicking, and snapping bones, he looks - and is - the perfect face for a Gladiatorial commercial.
Personality: On first impression, Aurelio appears quiet, reserved and disinterested. He makes little effort to make himself easy to communicate with and even less to hold an actual conversation. Apathy and disgust appear his prominent emotions, covering all else with a mask of indifference and detachedness.

Truly, Aurelio is a little more than a traumatised child. Quick to anger and slow to forgive, he has a volatile temper that can wash away all else in its path once it has been sparked into life. Regret often comes from these bursts of anger, things said and done in the heat of rage not so easily repaired in its wake, and from this a deep sense of self-loathing has been born. Aurelio hates himself, he hates what he has become and he hates that he enjoys it. He is repulsed by the life he leads, but at the same time accepts that it is what he must do to survive, and more importantly, for his brother to survive.

Aurelio's life revolves almost completely around Eleodoro; while his brother manages to maintain some hope of a light at the end of the dark tunnel that is their lives, Aurelio's light is his brother

Underneath it all, Aurelio is a hopeless introvert. He craves attention and compassion but can't bring himself to seek it out or accept it from anyone bar his brother. He has a hard time reading people, and is made nervous but not understanding their intention, and then that nervousness escalates into anger, and so the cycle repeats itself. Despite all of this, Aurelio still knows kindness, more importantly, how to give it. While his emotions may be stunted and confused, he still understands that if someone is in pain, you comfort them, if they need help, you help them. It is a coin toss as to whether or not he will actually act on that knowledge, but human decency does still exist within him, buried under years of torment and confusion, but there.

Buried far beneath all this Aurelio is reasonable and sensible, with a good head on his shoulders and an honest heart. He won't hesitate to lie to save someone's skin, if he sees them as worthy of saving, but as a general rule truth is what he speaks, if an edited version. He knows how to respect others, if they've earned it, and is far humbler than he would have others believe; while he puts on a good show of arrogance and brashness, truly, he has little to no faith in himself in anything other than his ability to raise hell.

When Aurelio loves, he does so with all his being. His is a fierce, compassionate, almost possessive love. He would do anything and everything for those he cares about, would gladly take a bullet for them, die for them, if it meant they could live on. He will almost never show this burning protectiveness, however, making it seem as though it comes from nowhere when he does act upon it. Few understand the force of his emotions, and by now, fewer still bare witness to them in all but the simplest of senses.
Fear(s): Aurelio's greatest fear is losing his brother. He has sacrificed everything to keep Eleodoro safe for a full decade and more, and he would move heaven and earth to keep it that way.
Preferred Weapon(s): Twin shortswords and a bow and arrows
Family: Mother - Aurora - Essyrni human
Father - Orion - Adelan elf
Twin Brother - Eleodoro - Essyrni/Adelan half elf
Background: 
* Mother was an escaped Essyrni slave who fled to Adela - Aurora
* Father was an Adelan elf who took her in after she was injured on the run and helped her back to health - Orion
* Aurelio elder of two twins, Eleodoro younger by fifteen minutes
* Lived simple life on outskirts of Adelan town - Aurora trading and working as a merchant, Orion as a bounty hunter
* Twins were kidnapped when ten years old and sold back to Essyrni as slaves - came into the possession of Hassir, a Gladiatorial Slave owner
* Aurelio fought to escape at every opportunity until Hassir threatened Eleodoro - made a deal to stop trying to escape and fight ruthlessly in the colosseum in exchange for his brother never having to fight in the real blood battles, instead only serving in the mock battles and fights without actual death.
* Fifteen years pass - Aurelio learns how to kill and how to survive, while the bond between him and his brother becomes unbreakable.

Character Themes
Just Like You
What Have I Become?

Active Threads:
Are You Not Entertained ~ Nathara Chu'si|DragonSong
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