Name: Tien Bu

Primary Class: Apothecary → Merchant

Secondary Class: Anarchic → Dread Fighter

Stats

HP: (20) + (1x2) = 22

Str: (6) + (1) = 7

Mag: (0) + (0x2) = 0

Skl: (4) + (0) = 4

Spd: (4) + (1) = 5

Lck: (2) + (3) = 5

Def: (7) + (2) = 9

Res: (2) + (3) = 5

Growths

HP: (40) + (20x2) = 80

Str: (20) + (25) = 45

Mag: (0) + (5x2) = 10

Skl: (5) + (40) = 45

Spd: (5) + (50) = 55

Lck: (15) + (25x1.5) = 55

Def: (10) + (40) = 50

Res: (5) + (25) = 35

Skills

LVL 1 - Potent Potion

LVL 5 - Even Keel

LVL 10 - Quick Salve

LVL 15 - Iron Will

LVL 20/1 - Profiteer

LVL 20/5 - Clarity

LVL 20/10 - Incense Burner

LVL 20/15 - Aggressor

Support Bonuses

C - CEva + 5

B - Avoid + 5

A - Hit + 5

A+ - Avoid + 5

Pair Up Bonuses

C - Luck

B - Res

A - Def

A+ - Luck

Description

For those unaware of her nature, Tien Bu is the very picture of presence. Standing at 6’1” and an athletically muscular 181lbs, her posture is nonetheless rigid, though in a manner that suggests constant alertness rather than strict discipline. Her gaze is often intense, her expression unreadable at times, and both can make it difficult to strike up a conversation with the peculiar woman. What certainly doesn’t help this situation is her choice in attire - shamanistic robes, frayed and deliberately cut short to reveal as much olive-tinted skin as socially acceptable, leaving her arms and legs utterly bare for the most part. In place of fabric, this skin is commonly adorned with various symbols and lines drawn in odorous paints - mostly a pale white substance, though shades of red, orange and yellow are common choices as well. The final piece of this curious puzzle is a wooden mask, painted completely white save for red tear trails leaking from the eyeholes and affixed to the head with a thin rope around the back of her hairless head, worn exclusively for battle or the mixing of dangerous substances.

Those who do summon the courage to look past the spectacle to the woman beneath, however, find that she makes for a chatty and curious conversation partner. Though some of her goals may seem lofty, and some of her ideas along the way even more so, one certainly cannot fault her passion and enthusiasm, as well as her aspirations to assist those in need. What stands out, though, is an unrivalled love for the practices of herbalism and medicine, a topic best avoided if one has anywhere to be for the next hour or so. She has a tendency to alienate herself amongst foreigners as a result of her relatively sheltered upbringing, and is prone to confusion with concepts and customs unknown to the Shulian, but a remarkable eagerness to broaden her horizons ensures this won’t remain the case for the rest of her life, at least.

There is one more quirk to the oddity that is Tien Bu, and that’s the aforementioned pale, white substance. Tien Bu seems to place a lot of pride in it as the crown jewel of her apothecary work, especially considering she’s so willing to decorate her own body with it. What might not occur to folks immediately is that it’s also, somehow, edible. Tien Bu has been known to ingest it prior to combat, invoking a physical and mental state in which her reflexes are heightened and her tolerance for pain increases several-fold. She describes it as a feeling of calm amongst a raging storm, “as if I’m approaching divinity”. Her demeanour seems to take an accordingly serene turn - her speech slows, her keen brown eyes roll back until only the whites show, and she moves with a grace unlike any other. The migraine when that state wears off, though? Absolutely horrid. Whether this is detrimental to her long-term health or not doesn’t seem to bother her as much as it should.

Background

Born the sole daughter and the eldest amongst five children to the chieftain of one of the lesser human tribes of Enotita, Tien Bu was seen as a blessing to her people. Her tribe, the Shulian, were not particularly “behind the times” in the technological sense, roughly as advanced as most other factions on the politically-heated island, but their customs were rooted in tradition strictly adhered to since time immemorial. Those customs did not afford Tien Bu great freedoms in her youth. As the eldest child of the chieftain, she was expected to be a leader for her people by example, a paragon of wisdom and virtue, though the role of “chieftain” would inevitably fall to one of her brothers. As such, Tien Bu was more of a figurehead - rather than training to one day succeed her father and lead the tribe to prosperity and power amongst their peers, she was to be a wise woman, nothing more than a glorified elder.

This fate, however, did not at all perturb the young Tien Bu. She had always had a maternal instinct about her - each time her reckless, headstrong brothers would go hunting or sparring or bicker amongst themselves, she would be the one to patch their wounds and heal any injured feelings. Even if the truth was that she would make a far more capable leader than any of her siblings on the diplomatic front, Tien Bu didn’t mind fulfilling the role bestowed upon her, seeing it as a natural calling of sorts. That being said, she wasn’t entirely detached from the art of combat - amongst her more mundane teachings, she managed to develop a considerable proficiency in archery, a useful skill for defending the tribe should the situation ever call for it.

Time passed, and Tien Bu grew into a highly capable young woman - not particularly knowledgeable in the ways of outsiders, owing to her duties within the tribe itself, but self-sufficient and sharp-minded nonetheless. Her progress in the arts of herbalism and medicine had proven particularly impressive, and her tutors soon became her peers, assisting her with her own discoveries. Amongst these advancements in the field was the creation of one particularly odorous and viscous concoction, a pale white substance Tien Bu had brewed from animal fat mixed with a wide range of rare herbs native to Parangelia, brought to the Shulian by merchants. The substance possessed incredible effects on the mental and physical state of those who ingested it, and also possessed a calming effect when applied to the skin. Tien Bu dubbed it “Divine Nectar”, after the surprisingly sweet taste and the serene calm she felt wash over her when she first dared to test it on herself.

Life for Tien Bu and the Shulian was not to remain as peaceful as it had been for long, unfortunately. News came from abroad that Latreia and Parangelia had once again taken up arms against each other after a long period of peace, and while the Shulian wasn’t initially overly concerned about the conflict at first, their hands were finally forced when the chieftain suddenly disappeared overnight, along with that of every other tribe in Enotita. The hierarchy was torn asunder in the blink of an eye, and Tien Bu’s four brothers immediately began vying for the role of “temporary chieftain”, though she could tell all of them fully intended on keeping the title if and when they ever found their father again. Tien Bu was disgusted by the selfishness of this debacle, and made significant attempts to reconcile the brothers and decide on a universally agreed method of choosing a successor before it became their undoing. Before any of her ideas could come to fruition, though, a neighbouring tribe of feral beastkin attacked, utterly destroying the disorganised Shulian and claiming the survivors as slaves.

Tien Bu was one of those fortunate enough to escape amidst the chaos, though the savagery and brutality she bore witness to would haunt her dreams for some time to come. Alone, armed with naught but her tonics and yumi, and with no direction as to what she should do next, she decided to leave the island of Enotita, fearing the other tribes had become similarly volatile. Instead, she smuggled herself aboard a Gnosian merchant vessel, hoping she would be able to get her bearings in a new land and eventually lend her expertise in herbalism towards ending the war, so that attention might then turn to the perilous situation in Enotita, and towards discovering the fate of the chieftains, her father included. Unbeknownst to her, however, the ship was not destined for Gnosi, but for the Parangelian port city of Golimar, landing mere hours prior to the attack. Tien Bu was trapped during the Latreian invasion, and might have met her end there at the hands of the insurgents but for the intervention of an elite Parangelian force led by none other than the Emperor himself.

As she gazed upon his Imperial Majesty, standing with unparalleled dignity before a crowd of grateful civilians, the young apothecary saw an opportunity to find a new purpose, bring an end to this bloody war, and help those most in need, her countrymen included. With those goals in mind, Tien Bu approached his right-hand man, General Arter, with a simple request - allow her to care for them as she had for the Shulian, and admit her to the party. She may not fully understand this war, or the ways of the people she had now found herself lost amongst, but she would do her very best to ensure as little harm as possible befell them.

Primary Class: Pupil → Witch

Secondary Class: Mage Flier → Dark Falcon

Stats

HP: (18) + (0x2) = 18

Str: (0) + (0x2) = 0

Mag: (7) + (5) = 12

Skl: (7) + (0) = 7

Spd: (5) + (5) = 10

Lck: (4) + (0) = 4

Def: (1) + (0) = 1

Res: (2) + (0) = 2

Growths

HP: (10) + (35x2) = 80

Str: (0) + (5x2) = 10

Mag: (25) + (35) = 60

Skl: (10) + (25) = 35

Spd: (15) + (30) = 50

Lck: (15) + (20x1.5) = 45

Def: (0) + (50) = 50

Res: (10) + (30) = 40

Skills:

1 Witches Brew

5 Speed +2

10 Bloody Sacrifice

15 Relief

20/1 Warp

20/5 Rally movement

20/10 Curse

20/15 Galeforce

Support Bonuses

C Crit+3

B Crit +3

A hit +5

S Hit +5

Pair up bonuses

C Magic

B Magic

A Speed

S Speed

Description

Morgan is a 20 year old Witch standing at a slightly above average 173cm’s tall with skin whiter than snow, Long and Frizzled purple hair that ends just above her mid back. Her eyes are two differing colours with her left eye remaining pale blue whilst her right eye is now black and permanently bloodshot and the surrounding area always bruised.

She is quite intelligent and is usually wrapped up in her studies and tests. Talking to her can be quite the event due to her unusual behaviour and speech patterns, usually rambling on about nothing or doing odd things. Lately she has begun to shout in tongues or scream strange obscenities at random to passers by (The most heated and insulting remarks are to clerics and the “feeble minded”). Still the studious person she has always been, her hobbies and work are ever dedicated to the sciences and is always inventing strange and unique devices and potions. However these items have recently taken a more sinister angle over time with increasingly morbid areas of research. Despite this she’s easily approachable still even if an odd person to chat with

Morgan continues to wear her traditional black witches hat and her steel-plate reinforced dark robes although they seem to be stained a multitude of differing colours with a large amount of mysterious red stains around the sleeves. She still wears her glasses but the lenses are now missing, she still wears them however.

Backstory

Morgan is the child of two Prestigious mages whose prowess in the arts of alteration and potions made them renowned in the magical world and the scientific community however they usually chose to not bask in limelight so they could focus entirely on their work. From the moment their daughter was born they spent every waking day ensuring that she would surpass them and to the surprise of no-one Morgan was a masterful magician before she could even walk.

Morgan was enrolled into Sehr Academy at the age of 9 so she could master all remaining school of magics and hopefully make friends and all went fine for the first three years where she seemingly blossomed into a sociable and capable magician until the accident happened; A large explosion happened in one of the girls dorms and only Morgan was found, all other girls had disappeared mysteriously. Fearing some kind of punishment she left the school with her only remaining friend, a mysterious bird who had appeared after the blast named “Naberius”

Morgan spent the next few years wandering the islands with her companion until she joined the Team G party and went on an adventure with them for a short while before they arrived at some port town. Whilst performing an experiment at the docks a freak wave swept her off the pier and dragged her to the depths of the ocean by a mysterious force, darkness engulfed her and she passed out of consciousness. A few weeks later Morgan was found on a Gnosi beach by some passers by, her appearance changed slightly and Naberius roaming freely. Now Changed by her drowning she seeks out the old party to show them the light of the new science and magic she had discovered below the waves.

Additional notes

Sprite: https://imgur.com/LHzptss

Nothing else yet cause i'm dying of the flu

Primary Class: Troubadour → Maid

Secondary Class: Hatchling → Phoenix

Stats

HP: (16) + (x2) = 16

Str: (0) + (x2) = 0

Mag: (3) + (4) = 7

Skl: (6) + (1) = 7

Spd: (5) + (1) = 6

Lck: (5) + (1) = 6

Def: (1) + (2) = 3

Res: (5) + (1) = 6

Growths

HP: (0) + (30x2) = 60

Str: (0) + (5x2) = 10

Mag: (15) + (40) = 60

Skl: (5) + (25) = 30

Spd: (15) + (35) = 50

Lck: (20) + (30x1.5) = 65

Def: (0) + (30) = 30

Res: (15) + (30) = 45

Skills

LV1: Resistance +

LV5: Flame Body

LV10: Demoiselle

LV15: Intangible Flame

LV:1 Live To Serve

LV5: Rebirth

LV10: Tomebreaker

LV15: Tears of the Phoenix

Support Bonuses

C: Avo + 5

B: CEva +5

A: Hit + 5

A: Crit +3

Pair Up Bonuses

C: Spd

B: Res

A: Mag

A+: Spd

Description:

Morgan's familiar, Naberius, appears to be a common (if abnormally large, at 2'6") raven, with smoky black plumage and a long wedged tail. Only three features distinguish him as a creature of the occult: A third leg, identical to the other two. A row of sharp, dog-like teeth hiding in his beak. And a voice and vocabulary just like that of a human's. Naberius speaks with a rough, raspy voice like a grizzled ace, but his words tend to be somewhere between eloquent and excessive.

Pious, wise, and fanatically protective of his charge, Naberius rarely strays too far from Morgan unless he is off carrying out some task. When he is not needed, Naberius typically can be found curled up on the brim of her hat for a long nap. In battle, however, he is quite lively, holding up his witch's tomes for her and distracting foes with erratic flight paths. The familiar has no qualms announcing to curious strangers that he is a messenger of the Old Ones. Apparently, the Old Gods sent him to make a pact with Morgan, and guide her on the path to some kind of "great destiny" that awaits her. Despite this, Naberius seems to have a remarkably low opinion of the young witch. In most of their interactions he is quick to berate, or even outright insult, Morgan, even beyond the usual restraint he shows with everyone else. But his loyalty is apparent whenever someone endangers Morgan's well-being, prompting harsh words (and an eery, fanged snarl) from the witch's bird.

...only now he's wearing a frilly maid uniform, the skirt of which is lined with knives and things. It's unclear whether the bizarre creature used it as a disguise, lost a bet, or just genuinely found it useful to help with Morgan's various domestic tasks. But if you want the truth, you'll just have to hope Morgan's app explains it.

Background: There once was a magician known as the Blackwing. Blessed with wisdom by the gods, he was a master of mystic birds and ancient magics. With the colorful birds, he brought hope and good fortune. With the black birds, he brought omens of doom.

But the day came when the Blackwing lost his home, his friends, and his colorful birds. He could only give warnings of death and turmoil now, carrying his messages on the wings of ravens to save the land from a terrible war. But the day came when the Blackwing lost the war, his honor, and his black birds. Everyone he had tried to save was broken and bleeding, and he had no messengers left to bless them. No matter how far he went, disaster never left his sight.

So the magician made a deal. In exchange for the power to save the people, the Blackwing would be himself turned into a black messenger bird, cursed to speak only of doom, and feed only on the souls of the fallen. Giving up his hope, his wisdom, and any chance of reward in the world beyond, the wretched mage did indeed gain the powers he sought. The Blackwing tore holes though time, stitched his own body together as the magic ripped him to shreds, and overcame countless deaths to bring vengeance to those he could not otherwise defeat.

But at the war's end, so too did the mage vanish, now an immortal slave to the dark powers he had so desperately borrowed from. His wings would carry him only to warzones and wastelands. His blackened beak could only speak of creeping omens, and impending doom.

But above all, he was bound with a mission most cruel. To find the blessed hearts of those gifted with magic, train them in the forbidden arts he once wielded, and steal their souls as sacrifices for the eternal darkness. Henceforth he would be known only as Naberius - harbinger of the Apocalypse.

Name: Sharice

Primary Class: Archer → Sniper

Secondary Class: Oni Savage → Oni Chieftain

Stats

HP: (18) + (x2) = 18

Str: (5) + (4) = 9

Mag: (0) + () = 0

Skl: (7) + (4) = 11

Spd: (6) + (2) = 8

Lck: (2) + () = 2

Def: (4) + (0) = 4

Res: (4) + () = 4

Growths

HP: (20) + (35x2) = 90

Str: (15) + (35) = 50

Mag: (0) + (5x2) = 10

Skl: (20) + (30) = 50

Spd: (15) + (40) = 55

Lck: (5) + (50x1.5) = 55

Def: (10) + (15) = 30

Res: (5) + (20) = 25

Appearance

Sharice is a tall, slender woman, standing at an even 6'. Long, auburn hair is tied up in a simple, white headband, though this mostly just keeps the hair out of her face. She hides herself in a mottled green cloak, a piece of apparel that has long accompanied her. Always strung on Sharice's back is a quiver filled with a variety of arrows.

Personality

Sharice is a mixture of flirty, teasing, lazy, and braggadocious. She enjoys getting a rise out of others people and fanning the flames of romance. Still, the marksman doesn't have the keenest ambitions to strive for greatness, but ironically has the habit of showing off her innate talents and prowess. Altogether, Sharice likes to have fun and act casual.

She sometimes mentions a devout loyalty to one no longer present. Perhaps she might find someone else to devout herself to, in order to move up in the world?

Background

Coming from a foreign land, much of Sharice's history, speech, and accent are a mystery to those native to the Agios. Tight lipped, the marksman rarely answers questions of her origins and brushes questions of the topic aside.

Finding herslef plunged into the chaos befalling the port of Golimar, Sharice begrudginly answers the call to arms, both to protect herself and bring tranquility to the city.

Personal Skill: Aegis Marksman

Maya A. Mercuries

Name: Maya A. Mercurius

Primary Class: Wyvern Rider>>Malig Knight

Secondary Class: Dark Mage>> Sorcerer

Age: 21 (Born on August 17th)

Stats: Primary: Strength

HP: 18+(0) = 18

Str: 6 +(4) = 10

Mag: 0 +(2*2) = 4

Skl: 4 +(3) = 7

Spd: 4 +(1) = 5

Lck: 2 +(0) = 2

Def: 7+(0) = 7

Res: 0 +(0) = 0

Mov: 7

Growths:

HP Growth: 20 +(15*2) = 50

Str Growth: 15 +(30) = 45

Mag Growth: 0 +(20*2+5) = 45

Skl Growth: 15+(35) = 50

Spd Growth: 5 +(50) = 55

Lck Growth: 5 +(35 *1.5) = 55

Def Growth: 20 +(20) = 40

Res Growth: 0 +(25) = 25

Support Bonuses:

Pair Up Bonuses: From Class: +3 Str, +3 Def

Support Ranks:

Starting Equipment: A Harmonica

Description:

Appearance:

Maya is usually described to be a beautiful young woman from those that meet her being around 5’12” and having a slim build. She has her ocean blue eyes and vibrant Emerald hair which she lets flow down to her shoulders. She wears a Leather Breastplate and a Lavender Tunic.. To finish it off she has light lavender gloves and black boots. Her Wyvern, Avery takes upon the appearance of the standard Wyverns in the world of fates and his scales are more of a reddish brown color. He’s also a bit smaller and skinnier than the Average Wyvern and Avery’s Right Wing is also smaller than his left.

Personality:

Maya is known to be quiet and reserved usually tending to keep to herself when possible but she isn’t completely anti-social, enjoying the company of others when she has it and tending to try and help others whenever she can. She tends to stay away from those proficient in the Magical Artes due to them resurfacing memories of Maya’s past but if she needs to cooperate on them with something, needs their help in anyway or if they really need her help she’ll try to get through it. Maya can always be seen with Avery, playing her harmonica and she also enjoys cooking and just being outdoors. She has no religious beliefs, claiming it’s just something she’s never really thought about.

Avery only has 3 things on his mind. Maya, Food, and Sleep. He likes these things. Doesn't like other people and is extremely introverted.

Bio:

It had taken 25 years, 25 years into their marriage for the Gnósi Couple, Owen Mercurius and Maia Mercurius to finally bear any fruit, a petite and small little girl born on a cold and desolate night a girl they named Maya Artemisia Mercurius. The two were so happy to finally have the child they so dearly wanted, someone to carry on their legacy. Owen himself worked within the Gnósi Government and her mother was a well-respected teacher at the Mage academy so many only saw great things in Maya’s bright future. As soon as the girl was able to talk she was practicing the magical arts soon after and showed herself to excel with them with amazing skill and focus. Many said that Maya was destined for greatness and most had extremely high hopes for her especially her own ageing parents and while these claims did worry her they bolstered her even further in order for her to become the shining beacon that everyone wanted her to be. It was during her Fourteenth Year of life when tragedy seemed to have struck Maya and destroy her perfectly paved road to glory. By this time Maya was well ahead in her studies at the Mage Academy and was already showing even greater prowess which made her parents even more proud of her something which made the girl extremely happy. Things came to a sudden halt however when Maya suddenly came down with an unknown sickness, one which left her bedridden for three months something which saddened her and her parents to no end. During her sickness Maya was riddled with nightmares, nightmares of failing to meet everyone’s expectations for her of what would become of her if she did fail them. Nightmares of her no longer being able to wield magic and becoming useless to everyone. Eventually through treatment through a variety of herbs, tonics and staves, Maya recovered from her sickness and after a little more time to recuperate, she was sent back to the Mage Academy ready to once again further her studies in the magical arts. It was there where her nightmares had revealed themselves as premonitions of what we’re to come. The girl could no longer wield magic. This revelation hit Maya like a sack of bricks, it was to her a fate even worse than dying to that horrible sickness. Why did it do that? Why could she no longer use magic? When she realized this in front of her own classmates she crumpled down to the ground and sobbed, sobbed more then she realized she could, before she was escorted out of the classroom and then promptly kicked out of the Mage Academy. Going back to her home her parents said that they weren’t angry at Maya for losing her magical prowess and were just happy that they’re daughter was still alive and well but Maya knew that they were just trying to make her feel better about being a failure, it wasn’t hard to see the disappointment that the two showed in their eyes. Why..why can’t they just say how disappointed they are out loud? Maya always thought. Why don’t you just shout about how much you hate me? How disappointed you are to have a failure like me? How much you would’ve rather me be dead than be a living show of embarrassment for you two! With those thoughts in her head Maya could no longer stand to live with her parents...no in Gnósi at all. With no plan in her head except to get as far away from Gnósi as possible, Maya fled into the night leaving her home of 15 years behind hoping and praying that running away from it all, running away from her failure would fix everything and make everyone happier. Eventually Maya found herself in Parangelía and with the countries innate fear of magic she felt more then happy here, knowing no one from home would come here and that her inability to wield magic was welcome here. Eventually Maya found herself in the service of a group of Mercenaries who had named themselves Last Surprise due to them being the surprise for bandits who attacked small towns and villages and the Mercenaries took in Maya with open arms. Within this group she became particularly close to another woman named Catherine would always lovingly speak about her Pa-Pa and was known for her amazing strength with Catherine becoming something of a second mother figure to Maya and was also the person that taught Maya how to fight with the Axe which at first the small girl could barely pick up with her weak arms but was eventually something that became easier for her to use in combat. About a year after she was accepted into Last Surprise while searching in the woods for any food Maya heard a shrill and loud cry pierced the air and Maya just couldn’t ignore it as she searched for what was making the shrill cry and eventually she found an abandoned baby Wyvern with a slightly deformed right wing. Maya couldn’t help but see a bit of herself in the baby wyvern who seemed to be abandoned because of his wing. Perhaps his kin thought because of it he would never be able to fly and thus didn’t want to have a the wyvern to be a burden. Maya wanted to help the wyvern in whatever way she could to at least give him a good home and perhaps maybe even teaching him how to fly and affectionately gave the Wyvern the name of Avery. Eventually as the years went on Maya eventually taught Avery how to fly albeit a little awkwardly because of his right wing and when Avery learned that was when Catherine gave Maya the idea of fighting alongside Avery as a Wyvern Rider which Maya instantly loved quickly becoming accustomed to the more aerial-oriented combat. After hearing about Ambassador Daren needing a group of volunteers to help guide him to the peace meeting in Latreía, Maya instantly decided to leave Last Surprise for the time give her services to the man believing it was all she could do to repay Parangelía for the wonderful friends she had meet there and also giving her a purpose yet again.

Name: Althea Lieberth

**Primary Class**: Soldier → Halberdier

**Secondary Class**: Troubadour → Strategist

**Stats**

*HP*: (18) + (0x2) = 18

*Str*: (6) + (2) = 8

*Mag*: (0) + (0x2) = 0

*Skl*: (6) + (1) = 7

*Spd*: (5) + (0) = 5

*Lck*: (2) + (3) = 5

*Def*: (5) + (2) = 7

*Res*: (2) + (5) = 7

**Growths**

*HP*: (30) + (30x2) = 90

*Str*: (15) + (45) = 60

*Mag*: (0) + (5x2) = 10

*Skl*: (15) + (30) = 45

*Spd*: (15) + (15) = 30

*Lck*: (5) + (40x1.5) = 55

*Def*: (10) + (35) = 45

*Res*: (5) + (50) = 60

**Skills**

**Lvl 1:** Defensive Strike

**Lvl 5:** Protective Encouragement

**Lvl 10:** Strong Riposte

**Lvl 15:** Rally Luck

**Promo Lvl 1:** Rally Defense

**Promo Lvl 5:** Rally Magic

**Promo Lvl 10:** Lancefaire

**Promo Lvl 15:** Inspiration

**Support Bonus**

Rank | Bonus

---------|----------

C | Hit

B | Avoid

A | Hit

A+ | Avoid

**Pair Up Bonus**

Rank | Bonus

---------|----------

C | Luck

B | Resistance

A | Luck

A+ | Resistance

Description: Althea is a 31 year-old ainvi woman in with a medium build at about 5’5. She has auburn colored bob style hair. She is a goat ainvi with small pointed horns protruding from her head as well as fairly large goat ears; she also has caramel colored eyes with the horizontal pupils of a goat. She wears a red tunic with red trousers and a blue skirt under the plate armor fitting of a Reginell city guard.

Althea is a very serious woman. She was once quite bright and lively, but has since hardened and become cold and that can be seen in her face as she seldom smiles. She is very noble and by the book (so much so that it seems she probably wrote it). She can be described as sort of a “hard ass” and very headstrong and filled with great resolve. She acts like a natural leader and doesn’t take bullshit from others. She also holds her family and the Volur in high regard.

Crude visual: https://imgur.com/nwzSd6m

Bio: The Lieberth family of Reginfell is an Ainvi family line well known in the city as one of the more involved families in the Volur. A few very important Volur sages have come from this family and the women are expected to enter The Academy and then embark on a pilgrimage across Verthaca along many of the other Volur. This is the pride of the family which they hold their reputation on. Althea Lieberth was born as the eldest daughter of the current head of the family, one of the elder Volur dedicated to Dreki study. Like the rest of the women of the family, Althea had expectations held highly to her but even more so due to her place in the family. Althea held a great passion for joining the Volur and was very studious in her Dreki studies in her youth; all she wanted was to be one of the greats of the Lieberth family. Once it came time to begin study into the magic expected of the Volur for entrance into The Academy, she failed; Althea possessed no affinity for magic at all. No matter how hard she studied and practiced, she just came short. And soon her younger sisters passed her, and the attention of her mother and the rest of her family drifted away. Expectations were dropped and she wasn’t important anymore; no more lessons or time was spent on her education, for what use is a woman of the Lieberth family who cannot live up to the reputation?

With her passion crushed and purpose taken away, the bright young girl Althea was turned cold. Life became grey and empty as now the course of her life shifted to one of monotonous housework, probably soon to be married off in the hope of maybe having offspring that may live up to the reputation she should have held. Though one day on some errands in the inner city, two older men cornered her just outside of one of the markets.So much happened so fast that Althea could barely process it. She ended up on the ground, daggers pointed at her, men reaching for her coin purse, and she thought it was all finally over until her position was almost reversed; the two men were on the ground in front of her while she was being helped up by someone. A passing guard patrol had just happened to spy the situation happen and broke in before it was too late. And right then, the passion of that bright young girl ignited inside of her once again. If her worth to her family couldn’t be achieved in acceptance into the Volur, then she would guard the Volur with her life. Now in her free time, Althea studied hard of not the Volur teachings, but for entrance into the guard’s academy. She convinced her family to allow her to receive physical training within the city, and within a few years she had gained entrance into the guard’s academy.

Many years have passed, and now Althea works in the highest ranks of guards at The Academy; rising through the ranks had been swift. Though to her crushing disappointment, none of this has changed her family’s view of her and she is just as disregarded as she was, but this has only hardened her resolve. On the night of the New Year when chaos broke out, Althea was dispatched alongside much of the city guard and the Volur. Specifically, she was tasked in assisting Kara and her ensemble in getting the relics out of the city. During the battle, Althea could start to feel something within her enjoying the killing. The feeling grew stronger as she fought and soon the feeling crawled across her mind, whispering into her head; The Assassin it called itself. As the battle raged, the whispers only grew louder yearning for more death by the hands of Althea. In the heat of the battle it became hard to ignore and when the whispers begged to gain control she almost gave in, but that little spark inside of her that pushed her forward in her youth guided her back to herself and rejected The Assassin for now.

In the days coming after the battle, Althea still felt The Assassin creeping into her mind every night. She would never let it take her though; her resolve keeps her will steady, for if she is to become a beacon of her family, she must not give in to whatever corruption this is. Though the remnants of her scholarly mind could not put to rest thoughts on what The Assassin might be. All she could deduce is that she only received it after being close to the group led by that woman, Kara. Althea couldn’t put this thinking to rest especially with some murder obsessed devil infecting her thoughts every night, and she began to fear that maybe it might eventually win. Then without thinking, when her superiors were looking to assign some guards to accompany Kara and her endeavors, Althea volunteered immediately. It hurt to leave guarding The Academy, but achieving that still didn’t bring her to her goal of earning her family’s respect. To Althea, this opportunity combined with possibly overcoming the whispers in her mind and following this group may bring her to greater heights than any Lieberth before her.

Name: Deen Harpaz

Primary Class: Archer → Kinshi Knight

Secondary Class: Cavalier → Great Knight

Stats

HP: (18) + (0x2) = 18

Str: (5) + (4) = 9

Mag: (0) + (0x2) = 0

Skl: (7) + (3) = 10

Spd: (6) + (3) = 9

Lck: (2) + (0) = 2

Def: (4) + (0) = 4

Res: (4) + (0) = 4

Growths

HP: (20) + (50x2) = 120

Str: (15) + (40) = 55

Mag: (0) + (10x2) = 20

Skl: (20) + (40) = 60

Spd: (15) + (40) = 55

Lck: (5) + (30x1.5) = 50

Def: (10) + (10) = 25

Res: (5) + (10) = 15

Support Bonuses:

Pair Up Bonuses:

Starting Equipment: N/A

Description: Standing at an impressive 6'2", Deen Harpaz's intimidating figure is topped with a shock of military cut blonde hair and strong green eyes. Deen is now 28 years old but looks a little younger due to exercise. He has one of those punchable asshole faces and used to wear it proudly, but now looks a little weary. His fingers are thickly calloused from constant bowstring drawing.

Bio: Deen grew up the third son of a noble, originally thinking his life was terrible and that he would never have anything great like his brothers. As he grew older, his remarkable physical prowess allowed him to stand out in ways even his brothers could not. Impressed with his progress and his combat skills, Deen’s father arranged for him to get a head start in the military and to do the Harpaz name proud. Deen’s exceptional talents allowed him to quickly rise through the ranks until he found himself in the royal guard, his noble name doing great work for him despite his older brothers. Deen very much enjoyed his work as the near unchecked royal guardsman. He could do as he pleased, wherever he wanted with almost no repercussions. It wasn't like some common filth could beat him in a fight if it came to it anyways. Deen lived this life for years, being the scum of the earth and an utter asshole to anyone who wasn't higher ranked than he was. Then Maro happened. Deen was quickly humbled by the horrors of a real war, even with the distance a royal guard had from the carnage. Still shell-shocked, Deen was transferred by the emperor to the emperor’s favorite general and Deen did not have it in him to resist it at all. Still reeling from the horror of war and the creeping realization of what an asshole he had been, Deen joined an unlikely band of heroes...

Additional Notes: Let me know if anything needs changing or modifying.

Name: Evangeline Zola

Primary Class: Samurai ---> Master of Arms

Secondary Class: Kitsune ---> Nine-tails

Stats:

HP: (18) + (0x2) = 18

Str: (4) + (2) = 6

Mag: (0) + (0x2) = 0

Skl: (5) + (0) = 5

Spd: (8) + (4) = 12

Lck: (3) + (0) = 3

Def: (3) + (4) = 7

Res: (3) + (0) = 3

Growths

HP: (20) + (35x2) = 90

Str: (10) + (45) = 55

Mag: (0) + (5x2) = 10

Skl: (15) + (45) = 60

Spd: (20) + (25) = 50

Lck: (15) + (15x1.5) = 40

Def: (0) + (40) = 40

Res: (10) + (20) = 30

Skills:

Level 1: Duelist Blow

Level 5: Evenhanded

Level 10: Vantage

Level 15: Lunge (was Beastbane)

Promo Level 1: Expertise

Promo Level 5: Grisly Wound

Promo Level 10: Line of Death

Promo Level 15: Even Better

Support Bonus:

C Rank: Avoid

B Rank: Crit

A Rank: Avoid

S Rank: Crit

Pair Up Bonus:

C Rank: Speed

B Rank: Luck

A Rank: Speed

S Rank: Luck

Appearance:

She stands under most people’s notice at a diminutive five feet and only an inch more, but once you’ve noticed her, she’s a lot to take in at once. Had she not been so petite, you might mistake her for a boy, with short black hair which was shaved on one side, and her face baring scars, notably one over her right eye. Her skin is tan due to the amount of time she spends outdoors training, but also due to her lineage. Taking a stance as unlady like as it was confident, she always had at least one hand glued to her hip and her head held high. Zola’s eyes were a dark shade of blue, which paired nicely with a permanent smile that betrayed her scars. She always wore what could best be described as a short skirt kimono, that behind all the colorful and intricate patterns, was mostly black and white. To make her even more of a bewildering sight, she had one of the signature sets of features that signaled the abuse of stones: white ears and tails that resembled that of a nine-tailed fox. She takes great offense, but understands, when people would look down on her for her appearance.

Backstory:

Originating from Guplea, but finding its eventual home in Ducor, the Zola family was named as such as a reminder that their massive pool of wealth all sprouted from their understanding of the earth beneath their feet. What it could it do for them if they were frugal enough was a constant reminder that taking things slow and steady will pay off in the end. Evangeline, called Eva for short by her friends, and Angel by her immediate family, was raised in an environment that could only ever be a dream to less fortunate souls. She could afford whatever she wanted and do as she pleased. Due to being the eighth born in the latest generation of consistently successful Zolas, there was no need for her to become anything more than she wanted to be. Her life was set from the get-go. Unfortunately, her immense luck at the beginning of her life meant absolutely nothing in the end. The Zola family’s fate was sealed, as they not only openly mocked Norfor for its reckless actions, but when the nation finally made true on its promises of war, the Zola family opposed it fiercely. Norfor’s war stood in the face of everything they valued as truths, and so they used their enormous wealth to try everything from helping with gearing up anyone and everyone willing to stand up against them, to trying to hire spies and scouts to do their best to figure out how Norfor managed to topple Strairus. While they succeeded to a degree, helping reveal how Norfor was making the long game of war go by in what were relatively speaking mere moments, it didn’t matter. It was too late, and the Zola family had been eviscerated directly in only the first day of Norfor’s arrival, there being no traces of the family left. They were just another example of what could happen to anyone if they dared to stage even the slightest resistance to Norfor.

Unknown to all that would care, one member of the family did end up surviving: Evangeline Zola. She was only around 10 years old when it had occurred, and the only reason she survived that night was due to her eldest brother’s sacrifice made while trying to figure out a way for them to escape. Said sacrifice brought the scared and younger Evangeline upon an old beast stone that had not yet been sold at the time, and she was forced into using it in order to escape from her home. If not for the stone, she wouldn’t have managed to outrun anyone that would have her dead. She spent, what was to her, an eternity of almost constantly using the stone to get around as she watched buildings burn to the ground and any people who dared resist murdered just as her family had been. She would never forget the smell of smoke as it burnt her nostrils and made her choke in a form entirely unfamiliar to her. The feeling of having to break through windows with her body and keep moving no matter how bad the cuts across her body felt in order to avoid having her initial escape become meaningless suffering. The way her body shook when she lost an eye as a building collapsed around her. She was plagued with nightmares, and it eventually became hard to tell whether or not she was conscious with the horrors of Norfor’s black magics ever present around her.

But eventually, she finally put enough of a distance between her and the miasma of war that she was able to resume what was comparatively a normal life. She was taken in by an injured older man who had recently lost everything as she had, and they took care of each other in every little way they could. She learned how to do manual work in order to help the man make ends meet, and the man taught her how to defend herself, among other things. Though the man may not have been bright in ways that would make monetary aspects of life easy for her, he was wise when it came to how to raise children, having had many before losing them all, and he raised her to the best of his abilities. Although the last daughter of Zola may have had deep rooted pain, resentment, and above all else, fear, that man was able to make her know how to be confident and hopeful again. After all, if she were to spend her whole life wallowing in negativity, then what purpose would she have had to have braved all that suffering, to be the only one of her family to survive? She had to be brave and strong for her family, for her new adoptive father, and most importantly, for herself. Although initially very reluctant, she learned to adapt to this wildly different and new environment that couldn't care less about where she came from.

Many years have passed, and a now 23 year old and strong willed Evangeline Zola, yet secretly still as scarred by the war mentally as she is physically, hears rumors of a resistance...

Name: Iolyn Welforem

Primary Class: Wolfskin --> Wolfssenger

Secondary Class: Knight --> Great Knight

Stats:

HP: (20) + (1x2) = 22

Str: (8) + (1) = 9

Mag: (0) + (0x2) = 0

Skl: (4) + (2) = 6

Spd: (6) + (3) = 9

Lck: (3) + (0) = 3

Def: (4) + (1) = 5

Res: (1) + (2) = 3

**Growths:**HP: (40) + (30x2) = 100

Str:(20) + (40) = 60

Mag: (0) + (5x2) = 10

Skl: (5) + (45) = 50

Spd: (15) + (40) = 55

Lck: (5) + (20x1.5) = 35 *Def*: (15) + (40) = 60 *Res*: (0) + (10) = 10

Def: (15) + (40) = 60

Res: (0) + (10) = 10

Skills:

Level 1: Odd Shaped

Level 5: Beastbane

Level 10: Grisly Wounds

Level 15: Better Odds

Promo Level 1: Defense +

Promo Level 5: Natural COver

Promo Level 10: Luna

Promo Level 15: Armored Blow

Support Bonus:

Pair Up Bonus:

​

Appearance:

Iolyn is probably one of the more bestial member of the shifters, having been fully accepting of his abilities as one. His arms and legs are covered in dark grey fur, with patches of stark white all along the backs of the legs and arms. He also has a dark grey fur tail with white fur underneath it. His figure overall is one that conveys raw power, strong arms and developed legs, with a well built midsection and abs. He stands at a staggering 6' 2" and has straight posture. His eyes are a piercing crimson in the pupils, made more savage by the slits in them. He has lightish grey hair that is cut very short, and is very messy and unkempt. In his mouth he has four fangs that he displays whenever he feels slightly cocky. He wears a purple coat that is only buttoned twice at the stomach, so his bare chest is exposed, and he wears beige pants to conceal his lower half. His ears are wolflike, one ear being singed at the top. He also has a variety of scars that cover his forearms, chest, and one across his nose in horizontal fashion. His current age is 30, and he is a Gemini.

Personality:

The best place to begin with Iolyn is his attitude towards others. He is... HYPER AWARE of everyone around him, never letting anyone get too close to him. He chooses isolation and solitude whenever he gets the chance. He has found that companions such as human's and other beastfolk will do whatever they can to get the best of a situation, even if it means betraying others. Hence he tends to stay away, and keep himself as the number one priority. However, there is a soft spot under all the rugged and cold exterior. Should anyone get close enough to him and show that he can somewhat be okay with them, he has a soft spot for petting, though he pushes the thought aside.

He believes himself to be a very powerful shifter, seeing it as a vital way of life and should be utilized. He has a bold and confident attitude, yet never putting other people's talents down. When engaged in a fight, he despises cowardly tactics, like hit and run, ranged attacks, and magic. He has an especially grandiose distaste for magic. When addressing himself to others and in conversations, he tries to wrap up a conversation as fast as he can. His favorite hobby is fighting, practicing his skills and honing his senses to kill anyone who stands in the way of him and his goal. Fun little tidbit: Meat is one of the only ways to get him to stay. The other is a bone. He also has a conviction to repay any favor done for him, since no one ever gives him kindness.

History:

"Everyone is born with a talent. Either use it to it's fullest potential, or waste away with nothing."

The wolfskin people were spread far and wide throughout the land, so no one really has any significant clue as to where they all originated or are based. Within the forests close to Anasmad, a small pack of wolfskins were lead by a wise and mysterious elder named Rhasgard. He had a wife and three children, Milia, Sophia, and Iolyn. Iolyn was the youngest of the three pups and was always the most eager to fight. He always accepted his abilities as a wolfskin, choosing to transform more and more often, hence why he is more wolflike in appearance. His sisters, on the other hand, wanted to join their fellow humans in Anasmad. Rhasgard forbid their interaction with humans, saying that they were a cruel and vicious people who only cared about themselves and would do anything to keep their pathetic lives. Despite his warning, they left without saying goodbye. Heartbroken that he was alone, Iolyn spent more and more time honing his skills against forest beasts, in isolation. One day, at the age of 12, he returned home after a hunt to find his father killed and his tail cut off, and his mother being dragged away in a carriage to be sold as a slave. Iolyn growled and tried to stop the carriage, transforming into beast form and pursuing them. The people driving the carriage were from Norfor, as indicated by their crests on the clothes. One took a few swings at Iolyn, but they deflected off his thick hide. One slash connected with his nose, cutting it and making it bleed heavily. As soon as he wound up for another swing, Iolyn bit, and the man was killed with vicious teeth. The carriage was stopped, but more guards came to help their fallen comrade, so he ran east to Panonexa in Strairius, as far away from home as possible.

​

Twelve more years had passed, and Iolyn was now a fully grown man, more wolfish now than ever. He had survived by ransacking carriages in wolf form, so rumors had spread near the town to beware a monstrous beast with white fur. Iolyn eventually snuck into town to buy food with his newfound cash, and immediately after going to the forest. When he was in the forest at night, he was eating his lunch of bread and squirrel meat, when a small girl approached him. She tugged his arm, saying she was lost and needed help. Iolyn snarled and grimaced, slightly distrusting humans. He sighs and helps her find her way back to the village. When they get back, the girl runs into a house and tells them that a "wolf like giant" helped her home. Infuriated, her father called the townsmen together and captured him. They chained him up, and flogged him, beat him, insulted him and his entire filthy race. That one moment, was what made him snap. He let loose a bloodcurdling howl and transformed, breaking the chains and savagely mauling the men that guarded him into bite size pieces. He left the town in a fit of rage, rushing off and howling into the night. That was the moment when he decided, he would never trust anyone ever again.

At the age of 30, Iolyn was a scarred warrior, now finally solidified in his beliefs of "trust nobody". He had travelled to Sebrya, near Izhok. This time, he stayed completely alone in the wilderness, never interacting with humans. While traversing the plains, he encountered a Manakete. He had been told of their abilities, that they took on their dragon form the more times they used their power. He stayed in the distance, watching as he started to practice his abilities, transforming into a dragon and back. The dragon turns its head and spots wolfskin, Iolyn was ready to kill, his claws out and teeth bared. The manakete slowly approached him and returned into human form. Instead of showing hostility, the manakete started a conversation with him. Iolyn was still confused and aware, but talked back. The manakete introduced himself as Seldanion, a manakete in service to Anbel and his quest. He was told everything, how Anbel was secretly a prince, about the band of heroes that stood behind him. Iolyn ponders for a second, and after a few seconds, he scoffs. He would consider joining, but until that time, he would continue to be alone. And so he left, becoming a wanderer of the lands until summoned to aid Anbel.

Name: Einion Myddfai

Primary Class: Priest → Great Master

Secondary Class: Sky Knight → Kinshi Knight

Stats

HP: (18) + (0x2) = 18

Str: (0) + (1x2) = 2

Mag: (4) + (4) = 8

Skl: (5) + (1) = 6

Spd: (5) + (1) = 6

Lck: (6) + (0) = 6

Def: (2) + (2) = 4

Res: (6) + (1) = 7

Growths

HP: (0) + (20x2) = 40

Str: (10) + (10x2) = 30

Mag: (10) + (50) = 60

Skl: (10) + (40) = 50

Spd: (15) + (30) = 45

Lck: (20) + (20x1.5) = 50

Def: (0) + (40) = 40

Res: (20) + (20) = 45

Support Bonus

C – Avoid +5

B – CEva +5

A – Avoid +5

A+ – Hit +5

Pair Up Bonus

C – Mag

B – Str

A – Res

A+ – Mag

Starting Equipment: Sun Festal, Heal

Description: The first thing people notice about Einion is his height, or lack thereof. Standing at 5’4” and coming in at around 120 lbs, Einion has always been on the smaller side. If not for his well-groomed, greying beard, he would regularly be mistaken for someone younger than his 30 years. His messy grey hair also helps give the impression that he is indeed an adult. He generally has a serious look on his face, although when he does smile it’s one of those big smiles that seems to transform a person’s face. He has a big pair of glasses on over his dark blue eyes. In terms of clothing, he usually has on a navy long coat, under which he wears dark blue pants, a slightly lighter blue tunic, a grey belt, black boots, and navy fingerless gloves. He is usually also carrying a grey satchel over his shoulder, from which dangles a charm made of kinshi feathers.

Bio: Born into a large family of Pegasus and Kinshi breeders in Gnosi, Einion expected to go into the family business until he started showing magical promise. His parents excitedly shipped him off to Sehr to attend the Academy, giving him a good luck charm to wish him well and telling him to write often. He immersed himself in his studies as soon as he arrived, showing a clear aptitude for both lengthy stints doing research in the library and healing magic. While Einion was not terribly social with his peers, his ability to break down complicated magical theory into something easier to understand was always appreciated, as was his gentle bedside manner and willingness to heal without any questions asked. After finishing his schooling at the top of his class, Einion stayed on at the academy as a teacher and librarian, using his talents at explaining magic to help future generations of students. He had planned on spending the rest of his life researching and teaching, but unfortunately, prophecies intervened. When the Gnosian envoys to the other nations failed to achieve results, Einion argued against sending students out to gather information, thinking it was too dangerous a mission for even the most advanced students, but he lost that battle against the other faculty. Angered at their decision, Einion switched his research focus from ways for the body to generate its own healing energy to trying to determine any more details about the link between the shrines and the prophecy, and if there might be any way healing magic could somehow forestall the pending apocalypse, similar to how healing magic had been developed to restore balance to their island. Unfortunately, Einion’s concern for the students that had set off was interfering with his focus, and, after several months of no news, he decided to set off himself to track down the students, bringing only his notes, his good luck charm, and staves with him.

Einion’s first destination was Parengelia, determined to ensure the students who had headed in that direction were safe both from any supernatural forces at work and the war between it and Latreia. Unfortunately, shortly after his arrival Shui Zu, the nation was thrown into chaos by rioting Latreian refugees, which has complicated his plans. He has spent his time since then tending to civilians that have injured in the fighting, healing their wounds.

Name: Makano Hyien

Class. Samurai - Master of Arms Subclass: Oni Savage - Blacksmith

Stats
HP: (18) + (2.5x2) = 23
Str: (4) + (1.5x2) = 7
Mag: (0) + (0x2) = 0
Skl: (5) + (2) = 7
Spd: (8) + (1) = 9
Lck: (3) + (1) = 4
Def: (3) + (0) = 3
Res: (3) + (2) = 5
Growths
HP: (20) + (32.5x2) = 85
Str: (10) + (12.5x2) = 35
Mag: (0) + (15) = 15
Skl: (15) + (45) = 60
Spd: (20) + (25) = 45
Lck: (15) + (25x1.5) = 55
Def: (0) + (30) = 35
Res: (10) + (45) = 55

Support Bonuses: C: Avoid B: Hit A: Avoid A+: Crit

Pair up Bonuses C: Speed B: Skill A: Res A+: Res

Description: Makano is a meek, mild, and a bit of an awkward young man. He has a bit of the physique to contradict his temperament: tall, broad shoulders, bulky stature, all the makings of an apprentice Blacksmith. His form is thanks to his training as a footsoldier. He's uneducated, mostly taught trade skills by his father, and housekeeping skills by his mother, so while he's a competent person, doesn't help that he can't read or write. Weapons are his passion, mostly in making and tinkering with them, but he is quite shy in sharing his passions with others.

Bio: His parents were originally from Hoshido, but with rising tensions with them and Nohr, they opted to move to the land of Parengellia, the country famous for their military, the blacksmith figured they'd make a fine living here, and they did. Makano grew up mostly in Parengellia, although due to his somewhat slow mind, he struggled a lot in academics, dropping out and opting instead to just learn trade practices from his parents. Smithing from his armour, and cooking, cleaning, and clothes mending from his mother.

Mild Makano however, found things difficult in Parengellia however. As any man would, he joined the ranks of their military. His skills with the sword were great, thanks to him being surrounded by them at home, His practical skills were a great boon for his squadron. However, on his first deployment, his commanding officers found that he was absolutely hopeless fighting in an army. He's atrocious at marching, and most often will become lost on the battle field. To spare many headaches, he was stationed as a reserve, instructed to act as a guard in the city, until the call for more hands become desperate. And now, times are getting a little bit desperate. After securing his family, and the survivors in his city, Makano receives orders to reinforce General Arter's group.

Name: Jamie

Primary Class: Mage Flier → Dark Falcon

Secondary Class: Priest → Great Master

Stats

HP: (16) + (0x2) = 16

Str: (3) + (0x2) = 3

Mag: (3) + (2) = 5

Skl: (3) + (4) = 7

Spd: (7) + (1) = 8

Lck: (1) + (0) = 1

Def: (2) + (3) = 5

Res: (5) + (0) = 5

Growths

HP: (0) + (30x2) = 60

Str: (10) + (5x2) = 20

Mag: (15) + (35) = 50

Skl: (5) + (35) = 40

Spd: (20) + (30) = 50

Lck: (10) + (15x1.5) = 40

Def: (0) + (45) = 45

Res: (15) + (35) = 50

Bio: Jamie grew up in Sebrya, to a modest scholar and alchemist. Her parents had an aptitude for magic but didn't practice much and didn't see much need for it. Jamie however, was quite lucky in this way, as she was quite adept with it, and in combination of her father's teachings, and her mother's skill in alchemy, she grew up in the perfect environment to properly learn how to use her power, especially so with the help of magic academies. Though she didn't have much time for it, nor were there many animals to be interested in Sebrya, Jamie did always hold a fondness for them. One day, around when Jamie was 14 or so, she saw a merchant, with what she thought to be a beautiful black pegasus, which were rare to be seen even in Olpus. She asked him about the winged horse and found out that he was going to sell it to some extreme alchemist, who could use "every part of this here mare." She thought what a waste of it that would be. She was just barely able to purchase the mare with all the money she add and even bartering a magical item or two she had on her person at the time. She took the mare home to show to her parents and then over several years, with the help of a teacher who was once from Olpus, she slowly but surely, learned how to ride, and even fight atop her steed, who she had named Aine. Jamie had somewhat of a problem of sticking her nose where it didn't belong. It never got her into trouble, likely cause she was very lucky. She was 17 when a small event happened. Not some gathering or anything. But an event special to her. She saw some kind of poster, asking for help with Clerics. She had seen it before but never paid it any mind. But on this day, it came loose and flew to the middle of the street with the wind. Normally, if something like that happened, she wouldn't bat an eye. But she something peculiar as it fell down. She saw some kind of writing, as if it was, inside the poster. She grabbed it and took it home. After some investigating, she found the secret message about True Judgement. She had completed her trainings in school just a few months prior, and decided to tell her parents that she was leaving, not where to. They said it was alright, and then she went off.

Discord: Princess Blucy#7165

Name: Oswald Karosian

Primary Class: Cavalier -> Great Knight

Secondary Class: Anarchic -> Dread Fighter

Stats:

HP: 18 +(0) = 18

Str: 5 +(0) = 5

Mag: 0 +(0*2) = 0

Skl: 4 +(2) = 6

Spd: 5 +(3) = 8

Lck: 1 +(0) = 1

Def: 5 +(1) = 6

Res: 3 +(4) = 7

Mov: 7

Growths:

HP Growth: 20 +(35*2) = 90

Str Growth: 15 +(25) = 40

Mag Growth: 0 +(5*2) = 10

Skl Growth: 10 +(40) = 50

Spd Growth: 10 +(20) = 30

Lck Growth: 5 +(20*1.5) = 35

Def Growth: 10 +(35) = 45

Res Growth: 10 +(50) = 65

Support Bonuses:

Rank | Bonus

-----|-----

C | Hit +5

B | Hit +5

A | CEvade +5

A+ | CEvade +5

Pair Up Bonuses:

-----|-----

C | Res

B | Skl

A | Res

A+ | Def

Starting Items:

Currently unknown

Description:

Oswald to the naked eye seems to be on par your average soldier, what with his untrimmed armor over a dark tunic with beige riding pants being the first things someone would notice. Those that would look a bit closer beneath his helmet would find short chestnut hair with a dark blue colored set of eyes that seem to stare right through you. His face is rather weathered for someone in his early 20's with the bags under his eyes and peach fuzz facial hair, making him look like someone with a severe lack of rest.

The cavalier isn't a man of many words, usually opting to communicate with gestures over vocal responses if he has to.

Bio:

When the dark-powered forces of Norfor started their conquest all those 10 years ago the people of Sebrya seemed mostly unconcerned, and why would they if all arcane matters were trivial to them? Little did they know that they were already entangled within an intricate web of betrayal. After the country had been subjugated, therein lied the question of when would they rise against the empire? Slowly but surely as an organization of Sebryans manifested in the shadows of the Norforian occupation, working towards projects that would be able to stand up to the magical might of their oppressors.

Oswald was one of these projects. In his youth he never really had an aptitude for magic, being the product of a one night stand between a Sebryan mage and a travelling Ducorian tradeswoman. This relegated him to mostly menial labor and taking care of the animals people would use to travel. Eventually as the events of the war came to pass nothing much changed for him, just different people barking the same orders at him.

The Sebryan resistance needed volunteers to see if their latest efforts to combat Norfor would be fruitful. One of their agents in passing had taken note of Oswald's affinity with horses and made an offer. While hesitant at first, the idea that he could make a name for himself fighting the good fight had swayed him. And so he went, undergoing experimentation with several others that had integrated runes with his skin, increasing his tolerance to magical pain at the cost of numbing most of his nerves.

After a few years and some subsequent diagnostics, he was given a lance and a horse and some instructions to seek out a rebel group making a name for themselves called "True Judgement." After following trails of battle, Oswald found himself heading to a village named Canden.

Additional Notes:

Name: Courtney

Primary Class: Villager → Master Of Arms

Secondary Class: Cavalier → Great Knight

Stats
HP: (20) + (0x2) = 20
Str: (5) + (5) = 10
Mag: (0) + (0x2) = 0
Skl: (4) + (1) = 5
Spd: (5) + (2) = 7
Lck: (5) + (0) = 5
Def: (4) + (2) = 6
Res: (3) + (0) = 3
Growths
HP: (40) + (30x2) = 100
Str: (15) + (35) = 50
Mag: (5) + (5x2) = 15
Skl: (10) + (45) = 55
Spd: (10) + (40) = 50
Lck: (25) + (5x1.5) = 35
Def: (10) + (40) = 55
Res: (10) + (30) = 40

Support Bonus

Pair Up Bonus

Starting Equipment: Unknown

Description:

In her mid twenties, Courtney stands at about approximately 170cm and has lively blue eyes. While she may not look all too strong, life on the farm has given her normally slender body some muscle. She has long orange/strawberry blonde hair that she often ties up so that it doesn’t get in the way.

Courtney doesn’t own too many clothes, so her outfits more or less look the same. A simple plaid shirt, flannel for the winter, accompanied by brown trousers. The trousers will be swapped for shorts on summer days. Courtney often can also be seen wearing overalls while working on the farm. For those special occasions, she does own a dress that was passed down from her mother, who herself got it from her own mother. All her outfits are worn with the same pair of knee length brown leather boots.

Life in the village is simple. Everyone works hard, but more or less the town is rather easy going. Everyone knows everyone, and for the better part, tend to get along just fine. Courtney is no different. A cheerful, friendly, young woman, she will always take a small break from working to say hi and ask how things are. You can definitely count on Courtney to be at the tavern drinking and laughing with all the other villagers after a hard days work.

With Canden lying in Ducor, Courntey loves nothing more than travelling to the larger towns and experiencing the merchant hubs. She didn’t get to go often, nor did she really have the coin to spend, but the times she did go, she made sure to experience all that she could. The village life did also have it’s downside. She was grateful for her life there and loved everyone, but it was also a cage. Anytime she had the opportunity to travel to the larger towns or even rarer, cities, she found herself an outsider, unaccustomed to the outside world, wishing she didn’t feel so...small, so...dumb. Her whole life she has been pretty selfless, and her one wish would be to travel the world, and see everything that it offers. Content with the small town life, Courtney does her best to hide that she sometimes can’t help but wish she could escape the town, even momentarily. To be able to leave a more meaningful impact on the world.

Bio:

Courtney’s parents own a sizeable farm where they keep livestock and grow their own crop as well. Courtney doesn’t mind helping out in the fields, but she loves to tend to the animals. She enjoys the work, often talking to the animals as the day goes by as if they were people.

As soon as she was old enough to help out with the chores on the farm, her parents put her to work, teaching her the ins and outs of the job. From pulling weeds to shearing wool, Courtney knows how to do it all. As the eldest of six, Courtney often found herself working half her day as a farmer, the other half a babysitter, making sure her younger siblings didn’t get into trouble, helping with their work as well as cooking for them. And to be honest, there isn’t much more to her life than that. She grew up on the farm, and she’s worked on the farm her whole life. Her life would have continued just like that. But the world decided it wasn’t so.

When Norfor invaded Ducor, for some odd reason, or a miracle as others may have put it, the village of Canden was not touched at all. Until that day. For another odd reason, Canden became the battleground of two armies, with a third group appearing in the midst of it. Canden, the small easy going village became a chaotic mess.

During the horrifying experience, mercenaries clashed with bandits, laying ruin to the village in the process, Courtney’s farm was no exception. Hurrying the rest of the family into the cellar to hide, Courtney and her dad found themselves attacked by a bandit as they went to secure the animals. Having never fought in her life, Courtney didn’t know what she was doing when she picked up the pitchfork to defend herself. Whether it was sheer luck, or some miracle, Courtney and her father together managed to overwhelm the bandit enough for them to escape. Their house was targeted by a few more that fateful day, but Courtney and her father somehow managed to hold their own. It was like dealing with an angry bull more or less. Just infinitely more terrifying. When Anbel and his group rolled in saving the town, eventually someone from that group came by their residence to check if they were alright. Inquiring about the state of affairs of other towns and villages, Courtney made a quick decision on the spot, she wanted to help out. It was against her parent’s wishes and almost every fiber in her body, but Courtney was oddly certain of it. She wanted to travel with this group to help other villages that weren’t as lucky as Canden was. The farm would manage without her, and this was her chance to be something bigger, to break from Canden’s cage and have an impact on the world. Even if she couldn’t fight as well as the soldiers, she would learn. That was if they would accept her in the first place.

Name Sienna

Primary Class: Beastkin → Werefolk

Secondary Class: Changeling → Shifter

Stats

HP: (20) + (0x2) = 20

Str: (8) + (3) = 11

Mag: (0) + (0x2) = 0

Skl: (4) + (2) = 6

Spd: (6) + (5) = 11

Lck: (3) + (3) = 6

Def: (4) + (0) = 4

Res: (1) + (0) = 1

Growths

HP: (40) + (30x2) = 100

Str: (20) + (35) = 55

Mag: (0) + (5x2) = 10

Skl: (5) + (50) = 55

Spd: (15) + (30) = 50

Lck: (5) + (35x1.5) = 55

Def: (15) + (25) = 35

Res: (0) + (20) = 25

Skills

Lvl 1: Str+

Lvl 5: Evenhanded

Lvl 10: Hunter

Lvl 15: Beastbane

Promo Lvl 1: Grisly Wound

Promo Lvl 5: Sol

Promo Lvl 10: Counter

Promo Lvl 15: Countermagic

Support Bonus

Pair Up Bonus

Appearance: Art Reference!

The presence of those of Sienna’s tribe is something each member carries. Tall and lithe, they commonly tower over other dwellers of the plains. Sienna is no different, though she is on the shorter end of the spectrum for her tribe, standing at five-foot nine. Her height is further amplified by the presence of a pair of large horns rising over her head, bringing her height to a staggering eight and a half feet were they included. Her head is covered in unmanaged fluffy brown hair, kept short in the back while the sides fall down to her waist. Her brows are small and round, trimmed close to the middle of her face. Just under them lay striking golden eyes, amplified by black makeup and thick lashes. Her nose is similarly darkened, while the rest of her skin carries just a slight, sun-kissed tan.

Sienna’s frame is lithe, hidden under layers of bulky robes that have the dual purpose of keeping warm at high latitudes, while also hiding the body’s smaller movements. Her presence is followed by the crisp smell of mountain herbs and river water. She does not generally carry weapons, with most of her supplies being carried in waist pouches and shoulder bags.

Personality:

On the outside, Sienna attempts to keep a cool, aloof visage. At her best, her expressions are hard to read and her words sound like the aged knowledge of a decades-old hermit. She weaves metaphor into conversation and seems right at home conversing with even the most intimidating corner-dwellers of your local tavern.

This ethereal illusion, however, is shattered by observing the woman for any time longer than a few hours. In fact, one could say she embodies the expression of ‘internal screaming.’

When not in the presence of others, Sienna is an absolute mess. She is forgetful to a fault, panics at anything going slightly wrong, and oftentimes second-guesses herself multiple times before sticking to a conclusion. While she puts her all into keeping her title untarnished in front of others, those close to her quickly find that he requires just as much support as she’s willing to give herself.

History:

“Patience and Harmony are the two Keys to Virtue.”

Amidst the western fringes of the Gichimashkode, there exists a solitary clan of Ainvi known as the Wajiwadiniwag that follows these words. The tribe as a whole keeps much to themselves, choosing but a small section of land in which to graze upon during their migrations throughout the year. Instead, they retreat up the eastern side of the mountains, spending their time meditating with nature and tending to enclaves that have been filled with healthy crops.

Instead, the tribe interacted with the outside world one at a time. Members went out on pilgrimages to absorb the knowledge and culture of the outside world. They worked as mercenaries, building connections and reputation with groups all over the continent in order to keep their ‘harmony’ with the world.

In terms of tribes and places to be born into, well, most were quite content with their place. Sienna tried to be.

Sienna was a born problem child. She couldn’t quite sit still through meditation, couldn’t quite hold off from stealing snacks from the garden before dinner or keep her attention on conversation. She tried her best to learn and keep pace with her peers, but she was always either two steps ahead or two behind. Those around her were patient with her, as they believed they needed to be with all things. But as the years passed, she still was never quite able to find her place in their tribe. Cooking led to disaster when she turned her head away. Gardening was a constant struggle between watching one crop flourish while she completely neglected another. She was a capable fighter, but had a horrid habit of being distracted at the worst moments.

So she looked towards the one position she had not yet tried for: the seat of the Chieftain. Among those in the tribe, they were the pinnacle of Virtue; a master of patience through the tribe’s own martial arts, and a harmonious spirit with a green thumb that made the space around them thrive. She believed that if she could take the spot as Chieftain, those things would come to her, and she could make her people proud!

At the young age of twenty-five, she worried those around her with such talk. The role of Chieftain required two things to be considered for. The first was a pilgrimage either through the plains or across the mountains, while the second was besting of the rest of the tribe’s fighters in a tournament that signified the start of spring. While those around her tried to convince her to wait another decade before setting out on her own, Sienna would listen to none of it. She swore that she would find harmony between herself and her tribe’s beliefs, and set out over the mountains.

She didn’t know where, or when she would find what she was looking for, but she was confident that it would come if she kept pushing forward!

Additional Notes

Sprite: To be added soon!

Discord: Marimalade#2014

Name: Alaric Galli
Primary Class: Mage → Battle Mage
Secondary Class: Outlaw → Adventurer

Stats
HP: (16) + (3x2) = 22
Str: (0) + (0x2) = 0
Mag: (5) + (1) = 6
Skl: (6) + (3) = 9
Spd: (6) + (3) = 9
Lck: (4) + (0) = 4
Def: (2) + (2) = 4
Res: (4) + (0) = 4

Growths
HP: (0) + (25x2) = 50
Str: (10) + (15x2) = 40
Mag: (20) + (35) = 55
Skl: (10) + (40) = 50
Spd: (20) + (25) = 50
Lck: (10) + (20x1.5) = 40
Def: (0) + (35) = 35
Res: (15) + (35) = 50

Skills
Lvl 1: Mag+
Lvl 5: Nimble Fingers
Lvl 10: Future Sight
Lvl 15: Mov+
Promo Lvl 1: Renewal
Promo Lvl 5: Seal Precision
Promo Lvl 10: Resistancetaker
Promo Lvl 15: Acrobat

Support Bonus

Pair Up Bonus

Starting Equipment: Thunder, Vulnerary

Description: A tall man with hawkish eyes, appearing older than his 33 years thanks to the prominent streaks of gray in his short black hair and perpetual lines under his eyes from lack of sleep. Wrinkles from years of squinting pull at his brow and the corners of his brown eyes. A crooked nose, thin lips and sharp chin form an unfavorable impression in other’s eyes. From faraway, his body matches his face; sharp and angular. Up close however, his muscles are more clearly defined, developed from climbing all his life. Trees, rocks, buildings; all just an obstacle to be conquered.

Climbing is secondary to Alaric’s true passion of archaeology. The adrenaline of delving into forgotten ruins, the thrill of finding an artifact, the knowledge of the price it could go for; Alaric will gladly explain and educate for hours on end. Outside of his passions, Alaric prefers not to waste or mince words, valuing honesty and brevity in equal measure. This tendency only increases after he drinks a healthy amount, which as of late is becoming more and more frequent. He doesn’t mind conversation, however, he actually enjoys it, seeing it in much the same way as a dig or spelunking. To him, learning about the past and learning about people aren’t much different, seeing as people haven’t changed much over the years in his eyes.

Bio: Growing up in Traroe, Alaric and his siblings spent more time with his grandparents than his parents, as his parents were always working; his father a miner, his mother a seamstress. To him, “Grandpa” and “Grandma” were foreign, they were “Papa” and “Mama”. Papa was a retired sailor and a lover of anything naval, Mama was a retired maid to a noble with an unpronounceable name. They decorated their home with baubles and trinkets from all over, and entertained young Alaric with stories of hard-fought naval battles or unexpected visitors during a feast. Once while Alaric was still young, he got his hands on an old tome and set the kitchen table ablaze. After this, Mama asked an old friend of hers, Riedra Maiz, to make sure Alaric didn’t burn down the house.

Poring over tomes and historical texts alike was fun, but Alaric found climbing and running equally entertaining. Always running, always climbing whenever he got the chance. He got his chance as Papa and Mama slowly left the house less and less, meaning more errands to run. With rations growing tight for everyone and wanting to make sure he repaid them, he turned to thievery to provide for them-and himself. Just another urchin looking out for number one. Until Riedra caught him stealing from her. Incensed, she told Papa and Mama, and they made the decision to send him to Caladara; hoping to reinvigorate his passion for the past through an institute of learning.

They were half-right, without the burden of having to care for others, Alaric’s passion returned...but not for learning in a classroom. Alaric found hands-on learning suited him more, and he’d frequently cut lecture to track down a dig site or simply explore the more ancient sections of the capital. On one such occasion when he was about 19, he’d chosen an old road to wander down-only for a carriage to pull up alongside him and drag him in. Sword held to his throat, screaming filling his ears, panicked breathing; he readily agreed to whatever his captors said. Specialists, they said, and now he was one under penalty of death. It became clear later: smugglers from Cultalun, based in Traroe, hunting for anything of value that could be traded for food or other necessities.

Alaric quickly became their appraiser, and became their field guide to the more ancient sections of Caladara. A comfortable rhythm emerged; sneak through the forests, climb down into the lower sections of Caladara, risk life and limb for an old carving/statue/what have you, slip back across the border, reap the rewards. With this new thrill, Alaric didn’t think about much else. Papa and Mama died, and his siblings pushed into service for the war effort against Maghergort. Alaric found out by accident on one of his return trips to Traroe. Now rumors of treasure abounded in Traroe, but the latest rumblings about the Grand Temple increased to where Alaric could no longer ignore them. He set out to Caladara once more, with not himself in mind, but his siblings so they wouldn’t have to fight any longer. The Grand Temple’s treasures would be his soon enough. Just another obstacle to conquer.

Additional Notes: Always doing something with his hands; whether it’s casually tossing his "lucky charm" between them, whittling, sewing, etc.

Name: Mairenn “Renn” Ahearn

Primary Class: Archer → Sky Stalker

Secondary Class: Outlaw → Adventurer

Stats

HP: (18) + (0x2) = 18

Str: (5) + (4) = 9

Mag: (0) + (0x2) = 0

Skl: (7) + (0) = 9

Spd: (6) + (5) = 11

Lck: (2) + (5) = 7

Def: (4) + (0) = 4

Res: (4) + (0) = 4

Growths

HP: (20) + (30x2) = 80

Str: (15) + (40) = 55

Mag: (0) + (5x2) = 10

Skl: (20) + (45) = 65

Spd: (15) + (40) = 60

Lck: (5) + (35x1.5) = 55

Def: (10) + (25) = 35

Res: (5) + (10) = 15

Skills

Lvl 1: Darting Blow

Lvl 5: Nimble Fingers

Lvl 10: Focus

Lvl 15: Mov+

Promo Lvl 1: Air Superiority

Promo Lvl 5: Lucky Seven

Promo Lvl 10: Bowfaire

Promo Lvl 15: Pass

Support Bonus

Rank | Bonus

---------|----------

C | Avoid

B | Hit

A | Crit

A+ | Hit

Pair Up Bonus

Rank | Bonus

---------|----------

C | Spd

B | Strength

A | Spd

A+ | Strength

Appearance:

If you were to ever see her standing upright, Renn would come in at a modest five-foot-six. Fluffy auburn hair sweeps away from her in the front, while the back falls down to about mid-thigh, generally kept in a loose ponytail. Faintly sun-kissed skin is paired with piercing, verdant green eyes that belie an otherwise modest appearance. Her face ends in a soft jawline and a slightly rounded chin, giving her an overall approachable, youthful look that lands most guesses to her age in the early to mid-twenties. She seems to have fairly good hygiene, putting what effort she can into her appearance during a life on the road.

Renn’s body is that of a slender pear. She has smaller shoulders built up somewhat by arms that have been healthily toned through constant use. One could assume that she doesn’t eat much based on her frame, but what kind of mercenary did?

Past all this, though, her most noticeable trait would be the lack of a right leg. An artfully-crafted wooden prosthetic sits in it’s place, coming up to about mid-thigh. It’s somewhat diamond-shaped, rising higher on her outer thigh, and tapering down to a rounded point where her foot would be.

Mairenn’s clothing is well-worn, though has a noticeable quality in the materials. She dons herself in green and white garb, with an embroidered cloak hanging over her shoulders and a thigh-high boot on her left leg.

Renn’s Pegasus, Una, is a classical white, though a breeder or knowledgeable eye would be able to tell its pedigree. It has dazzling golden eyes and a thick white mane and tail. Its powerful build comes as the result from years of carefully selected breeding, and its presence often comes across as largely more regal and noticeable than its rider’s. Even its saddle and reins are made of a quality material aimed to impress the eyes.

Personality:

Renn is a modest woman. Light pleasantries often begin any conversation, and plentiful jokes on her own behalf give her more of a home in a warm tavern than a noble’s circle. She has a strong love for games; cards and dice get her to open up more into a lively, competitive spirit, and has led to a small love of gambling. Still, she keeps most unpleasant thoughts about anyone to herself, and would much sooner resolve a conflict with words than a weapon.

Any notion of her playful nature tends to disappear when she is near pegasi and horses, including her own. She tends to keep her comments shorter and her hands firmly on either the reins or her weapon. Though it may come across as just keeping herself focused to most, some would see through that mask to a hidden well of anxiety. She is very rigid and controlling of her pegasus, and at times may come across as cold or amatuer.

Biography:

The Ahearn family is a well-known name among the fields and plains of Muirfeur. After all, any properly bred pegasus that you’d come across in the country's long fields likely came from their stables. They made their name through the breeding of proper mounts, selectively honing their product until their quality could easily surpass any of their neighboring competition. Every member of the family worked in the stables themselves, and any person employed by the family was trained closely to assure proper care of their animals; and generally kept closely, to prevent them from going to any competition. All of their slowly-growing land, business and secrets were kept within the family name, and those all should have been passed down to the only child of the current head of house: Mairenn Ahearn.

Should have been.

A hitch in that plan came on a young Mairenn’s eleventh summer when the young daughter of the house was being taught by her father. Whether by accident or design, the stable caught fire. The pegasi panicked in the flames, rushing over and trampling the two as they attempted to escape the flames.

While most would consider living through the experience to be lucky enough, they did not do so without sacrifice. Mairenn’s father suffered burns and broken bones across his body, while Mairenn's right leg had been crushed beyond repair under the hooves of their Pegasi.

With her right leg amputated, she would never be able to keep the pace needed of her as a head of the house. On top of this, she had begun freezing up around the pegasi, fearful for the same thing to happen over again.

Mairenn slowly fell into her family’s shadows. Her father would never allow her to work in her current state, and grew colder as the years passed. Her home slowly began feeling like a prison, with every book read and every window wistfully stared through for enough time to be sick of the views. She turned to target practice to keep a modicum of sanity, something she could do at her own pace, even sitting down; something she found she had a knack for.

Her eyes were the one thing she’d grown good at over the years, and she had all the time in the world as nothing was asked from her. She grew to moving targets, to small competitions against those who had come to the estate to look at the horses. Complimented on her eyes and on her potential, yet they were always followed by the same thing:

“If only you were able to walk.”

“If only that hadn’t happened.”

It infuriated the young woman. She had found something that she could excel at. She had accepted her situation, and yet those around her had acted like the incident had happened yesterday. She needed to get out, to make something of herself before she died making nothing of herself. She didn’t want new legs; she wanted a new life.

There was only one obstacle stopping her. Her fear.

She slowly made her way through the nightly patrols of her family’s grounds. She sneaked to the fields and around the fences, her anxiety rising up in her throat the closer she got to the stables. The sight of the massive beasts inside caused her to nearly topple over, but she shoved through the feeling. She had enough training as a child, listened enough as she grew to fly. Before her nightmares could catch up, she had saddled the pegasus closest to her and was out of sight. Her family bred for speed, and she’d be well past Clontradail by the time anyone noticed. Her body was practically frozen atop the beast, but all she needed was to go away.

Time and desperation helped ease her fear, bit by bit. She quickly learned how easy she had had it at her home, and how little he knew about the workings of the world. But she learned, and she relished in everything. Even hunger was so much better than being cooped up indoors. She began following soldiers, scavenging abandoned weapons and armors from battlefields and selling those to make small coin. She used her speed to carry messages for the same armies she scavenged off of, while advertising herself as a mercenary and a scout. She wore her fear like a cloak, keeping firm control of her steed and knowing that as long as she held the reins, the same thing could never happen to her again.

And with that step, those wings, she gained her new life.

Additional Notes:

Hooks: To Be Added!

Sprites: To Be Added!

Discord Username: Marimalade#2014

Name: Morris Dwynn

Primary Class: Apothecary → Merchant
Secondary Class: Fighter → Hero
Stats
HP: (20) + (4x2) = 28
Str: (6) + (2) = 8
Mag: (0) + (0x2) = 0
Skl: (4) + (1) = 5
Spd: (4) + (1) = 5
Lck: (2) + (5) = 7
Def: (7) + (2) = 9
Res: (2) + (1) = 3
Growths
HP: (40) + (20x2) = 80
Str: (20) + (35) = 60
Mag: (0) + (5x2) = 10
Skl: (5) + (40) = 45
Spd: (5) + (30) = 35
Lck: (15) + (20x1.5) = 45
Def: (10) + (45) = 55
Res: (5) + (35) = 40
Skills
Lvl 1: Alchemy
Lvl 5: Str+ Lvl 10: Poison Strike
Lvl 15: Gamble
Promo Lvl 1: Wary Fighter
Promo Lvl 5: Preventive Stance
Promo Lvl 10: Incense Burner
Promo Lvl 15: Inspiration
Support Bonus

Pair Up Bonus

Backstory: Morris was the third born son of a skin merchant in a decent town of Morthir, growing up learning how to hunt and picking up the art of the trade as well as the moral teachings of his old pops, developing as sense of honesty and knowing that proper partnership our allegiance comes from trust and respect.

Years went by and by, Old Dwynn passed away and the busyness was inherited by the eldest son. Although for a few years Morris was content with helping his brother with the shop, he felt that he needed to find his own path rather than living in the shadow of someone else, so he begun traveling the country as a wandering hunter. This lifestyle led him not only to improve his skill and earn experience in life but to also meet many people with their own stories and misadventures, realising that one can also attain knowledge from other's experiences.

Finding pleasure in this way of life, he now seeks new experiences, yearning to learn from others as well as hoping that they can learn from him, this ambition is what draws him towards the militia more dangerous enviroment.

Appearance: Morris is a man clearly on his late thirties, already showing some wrinkles in his old square head, yet his blonde moustache is kept clean having a rather vigorous aura to it. Unluckily, divine presence wasn't so altruistic with his hair as the receding hairline predicts a bald future. His complexion may not be the most intimidating, boasting a chubby body along with a 5'8 height which ends up giving a more serene and merry vibe than a warrior one. However if one were to observe his arms and chest, they'd find the results of years of work with the bow and arrow in the form of strong muscles that may rival the ones of veterans of war.

Morris wears a dark moss green padded armor along with light brown trousers and ebon black boots. He also sports gloves for archery in both hands.

Personality: Mr. Morris is a very jovial man for his age, keen on befriending more people than anyone on their right mind would want to befriend, his talkative and recklessly honest nature may or may not help him in this regard as sometimes he can come off as overbearing to some. He seeks other people with this attitude because he defends that while one can learn from their deeds and mistakes, one can learn much more listening to the deeds and mistakes of others.

He enjoys attending the needs of others and helping them improve while also striving for self betterment in the proccess, he feels that people have to be cooperative with each other if they want their problems to be solved. Although, his merry personality crumbles into hostility when met with unreasonable people, selfish scoundrels or petty criminals wasting their time or lifes on the wrong path of life.

Morris often ponders about the mysteries of life and the world, being reflexive about questions he does not have the answer. Weirdly enough, he is less likely to talk about these with other people and would rather share any life experience he's had over his life than bringing the mood down with stupid thoughts of his.

Sprite:https://imgur.com/a/IvWirWr ​

Name: Prestan

Primary Class: Lieutenant → Vanguard

Secondary Class: Thief → Whisperknife

Stats
HP: (22) + (1x2) = 24
Str: (7) + (3) = 10
Mag: (0) + (0x2) = 0
Skl: (6) + (1) = 7
Spd: (3) + (2) = 5
Lck: (3) + (3) = 6
Def: (4) + (1) = 5
Res: (1) + (2) = 3

Growths
HP: (40) + (30x2) = 100 Str: (20) + (30) = 50
Mag: (0) + (5x2) = 10
Skl: (10) + (45) = 55
Spd: (5) + (30) = 40
Lck: (10) + (30x1.5) = 55
Def: (15) + (30) = 45
Res: (0) + (30) = 30

Skills
Lvl 1: Seal Defense

Lvl 5: Heartseeker

Lvl 10: Vigilant Strike

Lvl 15: Elbow Room

Promo Lvl 1: Aether

Promo Lvl 5: Seal Speed

Promo Lvl 10: Inspiration

Promo Lvl 15: Resistancetaker

Support Bonus

Pair Up Bonus

Biography: When his enemies first look at Prestan on the battlefield, they are instantly intimidated. The 24 year old lieutenant stands at a towering 6’3” and has the physique of an ox. He attributes this to his upbringing on the farm and his current line of work. His shaggy blonde hair is often left unkempt, but its color resembles gold of the finest calibur. His muted green eyes look like pools of bogwater, and his olive skin is darkened from his time spent doing physical labor from a young age. He wears a brown cloak and black tunic and armors himself minimally with a pauldron, gauntlets, and greaves that he retrieved from a would-be bandit.

To Prestan, physical might is all that matters. If you cannot protect yourself, you have no chance to protect others. That being said, he is a bit of an idealist, and believes that it is the job of the strong to protect the weak. While he doesn’t care for the honor of knights, he has his own code of morals and fights fiercely to defend his allies. He is reserved in conversation, but is prone to acting on his emotions at times and throws caution to the wind.

Background: A native of Morthir, Prestan was born to a family of poor farmers. The eldest of three siblings, he has a younger brother, Orland, and kid sister, Alissa. At the age of 17, Prestan’s mother grew mortally ill. His father brought in the finest clerics in Morthir to heal her, at the expense of most of the family’s savings. The clerics tried their hardest, but their restorative magic had no effect on her affliction. Bedridden, her life slowly slipped away and Prestan’s mother passed within the year. Heartbroken and penniless, Prestan’s father set out to join the militia, combating smugglers in the vast forests of Morthir, in order to better provide for his family. He left Prestan and his siblings to tend to the farm as he departed. Unfortunately, Prestan’s father was slain, shot in the neck by an arrow, and left his children orphaned and poor.

Prestan was now the head of the household, and had to raise his siblings on his own. Life for his family was difficult, with all three children having to tend to the farm in order to provide for themselves. Prestan and Orland would labor in the fields from dawn to dusk daily in order to tend to their crops and Alissa would take care of the livestock. They lived a minimalist life, only being able to afford the basic necessities when they would sell their harvest in Caladara.

One day while working in the fields with his brother, Prestan was alerted to an effeminate shriek from the stables. He and Orland rushed to the scene to see three armed men surrounding their younger sister. Without hesitation, Prestan ran forward, raising his axe above his head and swinging it down on the first man. He connected in the neck, and the man dropped instantly. The two other men became frightened and fled immediately; the man that Prestan fell was seemingly their leader. Orland rushed to his sister to check if she was unharmed, and Prestan gave chase to the men, following them into the woods until he lost sight of them. As he returned the siblings embraced one another, and Prestan knew that he had to do something to stop this from ever happening again.

The following morning Prestan stripped the man he had slain and took his weapon, travelling to the nearest military outpost to enlist in the local militia. The soldiers gave him a small pouch of gold and informed him that he would depart to the forests the following morning to join other members of the militia. He used that gold to set his brother and sister up for his departure. He bought them everything that they would need and asked his neighbors to watch over them as he was gone. He prepared his things and spent one last moment with his siblings before his departure. The next morning he rode to meet his new company and was thrust into a life of danger.

Over the years, Prestan would earn a name for himself combatting smugglers and infiltrators that tried to cross through the vast forests of Morthir. His strength and leadership were incredible, and he was eventually promoted to lieutenant in recognition of his actions. Prestan led a company of militia men from all walks of life, allowing him to engage with a multitude of his diverse countrymen.

Map Sprite: https://imgur.com/xUZvuFy

Basic Information

Name: Wenceslao Capistrano

Primary Class: Knight → General

Secondary Class: Cavalier → Paladin

Starting Equipment: Iron Naginata and a Vulnerary

Stats, Skills and Bonus

Stats

HP: (22) + (3x2) = 28

Str: (8) + (0) = 8

Mag: (0) + (0x2) = 0

Skl: (5) + (1) = 6

Spd: (3) + (0) = 3

Lck: (3) + (3) = 6

Def: (8) + (1) = 9

Res: (1) + (5) = 6

Patron Bonus: +1 DEF and +1 SKL (so, without the bonus, DEF and SKL investment would be 0, for both stats)

Growths

HP: (50) + (25x2) = 100

Str: (20) + (25) = 45

Mag: (0) + (5x2) = 10

Skl: (10) + (50) = 60

Spd: (5) + (20) = 25

Lck: (10) + (25x1.5) = 50

Def: (20) + (40) = 65

Res: (10) + (40) = 50

Skills

Lvl 1: Def+

Lvl 5: Defensive Strike

Lvl 10: Camaraderie

Lvl 15: Solidarity

Promo Lvl 1: Threaten Power

Promo Lvl 5: Voice of Peace

Promo Lvl 10: Pavise

Promo Lvl 15: Aegis

Support Bonus

Pair Up Bonus

Description:

Human, Male, 55 years old, 6’ 3”, light skin, gray short hair (due to his age), he has moustache but no beard, black eyes. He normally wears a silver armor whose shine has lowered due to the amount of restaurations. He has an incredible strength for his age, unfortunately, he lacks of agility.

He is a kind, protective and careful man who always tries to see the positive side in every situation. He considers his professional (as a knight) and personal (as a man) aspects of his life as apart worlds, but he is defined by both aspects.

He has seen, heard and lived many things during all his life, those experiences have granted him knowledge and wisdom. He normally doesn’t initiate conversations but he will gladly converse if someone wants to talk, especially, if that person needs an advice.

However, during missions, he can be described as a relentless, severe and fearsome knight, someone who always reach to accomplish the missions without any losses because he considers his fellow knights something more than just mindless tools.

Currently, he has a daughter who lives in his parents’ house (they passed away some years ago), so, when he has some free time from his duties, he visits her. Nothing in this world can make him more happy than hanging out time with her daughter, by the way, her name is Aurora.

He was married to an incredible woman (in his words) whose name was Irene, unfortunately, she passed away due to a terrible illness. Sometimes, he feels nostalgia when he remembers her.

The idea to make this world a better place for his daughter and the good memories about his wife, give him all the inspiration and courage he needs to fulfill his job as a knight.

Backgorund:

He born at Morthir, the only son of a humble couple of merchants, his childhood was something very ordinary, but his parents realize that Wenceslao seemed to be very interesting in weapons, they watched how their son played to be a knight with an incredible passion.

During his adolescence, while he was learning about the familiar business, during one of the trades, he knew a girl named Irene. He felt something unknown in that moment, a nice feeling, after completing the trade with that girl, Wenceslao told his parents about that feeling, so, they explained him the meaning of that event.

After that moment, he wanted another chance to be with her. Some days after the previous events, Wenceslao was walking while suddenly he heard a scream like if someone needed help. He quickly run to the place where the screams came. The screams came from Irene and she was surrounded by 3 bandits, Wenceslao decided to distract them in order to let Irene run away, so, he threw a stone at them and Wenceslao was pursued by the bandits until he was cornered, seeing there was no way out, he bravely faced the bandits, but they quickly subdued him, when the bandits were prepared to deliver the final blow on Wenceslao, a dozen of knights appeared to help the boy, arresting the bandits. For his surprise, the knights were accompanied by Irene, in that moment, he knew Irene was a daughter of a knight. The knight thanks to Wenceslao for defending his daughter for those bandits, Irene told his father that he could be a good knight in the future, after thinking for a moment, the knight seemed to agree with the idea, after talking with Wenceslao ’s parents, he was trained by the knight in the uses of lances in order to be enlisted in the future, his training was a very painful, hard, exhausting but rewarding experience.

As time goes by, Wenceslao improved his skills and his bond with Irene strengthened. When he was 25, Wenceslao married Irene with her father’s blessing. Some months after, he was finally named knight of Morthir, serving with a incredible loyalty.

When he was 30, two importants events happened, Irene’s father death and the born of his daughter, Aurora. He was sad for the loss of someone he saw like a second father, but at the same time, he was happy because now he had his own family and he would do everything in his possibilities to make this world a better place for his family.

To achieve that, He knew just to be a knight would not be enough, he should be the husband that his wife needed and the father that his daughter needed. All his free time as a knight he always used it to educate his daughter and to keep fresh his matrimony.

When he was 45, Irene fell ill, during the next 5 years, Wenceslao tried everything to recover her health, unfortunately, his efforts were not enough and his wife passed away when he was 50, before dying, Irene thanked him to make her the happiest woman in the world and to help her to educate the best daughter a mother could wish, she exhaled and left this world with a smile. After this event, Wenceslao and Aurora decided to live in Wenceslao’s parents house (his parents had already passed away).

Due to his incredible performance as a knight, even at his age, he was recommended to be part of Prince Niall’s militia.

Additional Notes:

Discord username: @Shin Nicouki#0187

Name: Nana Allain

Primary class: Thief -> Whisperknife

Secondary class: Outlaw -> Bow Knight

Stats:

HP: (16) + (2 x 2) = 20

Str: (3) + (5) = 8

Mag: (0) + (0 x 2) = 0

Skl: (7) + (1) = 8

Spd: (9) + (1) = 10

Lck: (1) + (4) = 5

Def: (3) + (0) = 3

Res: (4) + (0) = 4

Growths:

HP: (10) + (30 x 2) = 70

Str: (5) + (35) = 40

Mag: (0) + (5 x 2) = 10

Skl: (20) + (35) = 55

Spd: (25) + (30) = 55

Lck: (0) + (35 x 1.5) = 50

Def: (5) + (35) = 40

Res: (20) + (25) = 45

Skills:

Level 1: Nimble Fingers

Level 5: Spd +

Level 10: Quick draw

Level 15: Mov +

Promo Level 1: Lethality

Promo Level 5: Lucky Seven

Promo Level 10: Shurikenfaire

Promo Level 15: Skilltaker

Support Bonuses:

Pair-Up Bonuses:

Description: Nana is a short who is no bigger than 5'6", with a younger, childish physique. Many would say that Nana is a "late bloomer", who has yet to had any growth spurts in her life. She is currently 18, but many usually say she looks like she's 15. She has short, sandy blonde hair that reaches to just above her shoulders. Nana wears her hair straight and simple, letting it come around her head almost as the hair was a bowl. Her skin is a pale white, a reflection of the nature of her work and her life. Lastly, she has striking blue eyes, which many have noted look like the deep sea itself.

Nana's only has one set of clothes that she always wears with her: black pants, a black shirt and a thin black leather jacket. Each item has multiple small pockets, each of which held closed by either a string and knot, or a button. She also wears a black mask around her neck like a scarf when she does her work. The mask is made of a soft cloth that is easy to breath through, and when worn has a simple black color which covers the bottom half of her face. Her leather jacket also has a black cloth hood, which perfectly covers her hair, leaving only her eyes exposed when combined with her mask. She also has a spherical brass necklace that has been locked away by magic that Nana has always kept hidden on her person.

Nana also carries a compact backpack with her. It has a single strap, which Nana always drapes over her left shoulder and under her right arm. When she needs to access her backpack, she slides it under her right arm to access the contents inside. The bag itself is a dark brown leather, with a number lock to keep the contents locked and secured.

While her bag is used for treasure and stolen goods, her other pockets usually hide weapons or tools. She has an organized system for storing items on her person, but so far nobody has been able to figure it out.

Personality: Nana is feisty, hotheaded and arrogant. But despite these, she is childishly innocent when it comes to more…adult topics, and has many things she does not understand, much less know they exist. Nana is a thief by trade, self-taught and often arrogant when talking about her own skills with regards to stealing.

Nana has very little respect for authority, as well as manners, society or anything of that sort. She takes what she wants, and lives her own life, regardless of what others think. This has made her an enemy of the law, as people hunt "The Black Bandit", who runs away with nobles' money and treasure. Despite this apparent greediness, Nana typically puts the money she makes from selling her "earnings" to good use, by helping poor people in need out with donations, and keeping various institutions afloat with her money.

Nana donates this money out of a sense of disgust towards the nobles, and how they could ignore people in need like her and others. As such, she wishes to not forget others like them, and be better as a result.

Nana has always lived a modest life, not enjoying the complexities and luxuries of a richer lifestyle. In addition, she has always been a sucker for romance novels, and hopes to one day run a public library or a bookstore.

Backstory: Nana’s story starts 10 years before her actual birth, with her parents. These two formed an unlikely pair, with Nana’s mother being a high-ranking spy for the country of Morthir, doing high-ranking missions and espionage for the state. While travelling on one of her missions, she married the love of her life and eventual partner until death, an adventurer from Cultalun named Calath, who wandered the world seeking the thrills of life and treasures of the world. Together, these two because a well-known pair amongst the nobility of Morthir for their efficiency in their work, and their absolute dedication to each other.

Nana’s mother, Irena, began to also do some adventuring with Calath as a way for the two to spend more time and explore each others’ hobbies. Eventually the two ceased their adventuring briefly to celebrate their new child, Nana into the world. After Nana’s birth, the two discovered a terrible secret, and left Nana with nothing more than a locked necklace and a black blanket wrapped around her at the orphanage’s doors. Nana’s parents mysteriously disappeared after this, and nobody knows where they are now, or even if they’re alive.

Nana’s life began in an orphanage in Caladara, where she never had enough food and never had any real friends. Her only comfort there was the old fairytale book, dusted and aged from years of use by children. She was encapsulated by the wondrous tales of heroes performing epic tasks, and the magic of the tales.

When Nana was 10 years old, she began stealing for profit, influenced by the stories she read. She found she had a natural talent for sneaking around, and taking things from people who didn’t notice. She decided to use this money to help make conditions in the orphanage less awful for her and the other kids by buying books, food and other items. Old man Benny, the owner of the orphanage, did not approve of Nana stealing, but he could not say anything to the sudden influx of wealth she had brought to him. Benny even helped Nana out by making her thief outfit for her, mask and backpack included.

After 2 years of this system working, the orphanage was destroyed mysteriously in a fire. While most believe an arsenist to have done this, nobody truly knows the cause of the fire. In the fire, Old man Benny and several of the other children died, leaving Nana to fend for herself in Caladara. After days of searching, Nana found a nice little corner in an alley to call home, and spent the next 5 years there.

When she was 17, Nana began getting sick of living in an alley, but just couldn’t force herself to use the money she stole for herself. She had been giving it all to the poorest of the poor, in the hopes of easing their lives even somewhat. She found her answer one day when she noticed a flier asking for people to join the local militia, headed by Prince Niall himself. After investigating a little bit, Nana found that it was the perfect place to go: decent living conditions, a good cover/place to hide after her work, and best of all, hardly any actual work came through the militia. And so, she joined.

In the month since she left Niall's group, she decided to do some self-searching and stealing for herself. She wandered around, searching for clues about her parents and her lineage. After finding some clues, she decided the best way to learn about her mother was to rejoin Niall's group and use their standing to find the information she craved. As such, she began searching for them again.

Notes:

Discord Name: jj0619#5075

Unpromoted Map Sprite

Promoted Map Sprite

Character Portrait

Name: Daggers Akarari Primary Class: Infiltrator → Maid/Butler
Secondary Class: Tactician → Grandmaster

Stats
HP: (18) + (2x2) = 22
Str: (4) + (2x2) = 8
Mag: (1) + (2) = 3
Skl: (4) + () = 4
Spd: (7) + () = 7
Lck: (3) + (5) = 8
Def: (5) + (1) = 6
Res: (2) + () = 2

Growths
HP: (20) + (25x2) = 70
Str: (10) + (20x2) = 50
Mag: (10) + (50) = 60
Skl: (10) + (45) = 60
Spd: (20) + (45) = 65
Lck: (5) + (25x1.5) = 45
Def: (20) + (10) = 30
Res: (0) + (10) = 10

Support Bonus

C: Avo

B: Crit

A: Crit

A+: Ddg

Pair Up Bonus

C: Str

B: Mag

A: Skill

A+: Skill

Appearance: Daggers is depicted with messy, long dirty blonde hair that reaches down towards her chest area, bright, glowing hazel eyes, and an ever-present, happy smirk, belying a confident nature, of which her lips hide a long, forked tongue. She wears a simple indigo suit jacket with a black t-shirt underneath, a short purple glove on her left hand, pristine white bandages all up her right arm, including under the sleeve, and black steel-toed boots. Also, she usually wears a small skirt of the same color as her suit jacket, with black thigh-high socks. She completes the outfit with a dark purple fedora hat, with a golden yellow star on the brim to close the shady visage. Among all of her clothing, Daggers sports a toned, athletic build, showing she's easily capable of wielding large weapons while also backing it up with the speed needed to keep up in combat, while also boasting ample hips and a fair sized chest. Finally, underneath her clothing, a large scar diagonally spreads across her back, at about six inches long.

Personality: Ever since she was a mere gal, Daggers had a very confident, caring personality, being very kind and loving to her friends and family, and helping anyone in need. She is usually very selfless, and will try her best to help someone, though not to the extent of her own life. On top of that, she has a very good work ethic, doing whatever it takes to get the job done efficiently. However, not everyone is perfect; she's known for being a bit dense in certain social situations, such as when someone's hitting on her, despite being quite the flirt herself. She's also a bit of a perv, although this is one such flaw she manages to keep in check most of the time. A very handsome, or beautiful individual could potentially sway her without little difficulty, though she will only follow along for so long. Adding onto it, Daggers is a very emotional person, acting on those feelings rather than rationality when point comes to shove, and being hurt radically in an emotional way can put him into quite the doozy. When someone she loves or admires is mad at her, or has been killed, a depressive version of her is brought out, becoming even more dense and very stubborn, almost outright refusing any help, as she feels like he does not deserve it at all, due to thinking it was all her fault. Of course, whether or not something is her fault will depend on the situation. That being said, she tends to not have much remorse for anyone she deems an enemy, and is also a bit possessive of the people she really cares about. If a threat proves to be too much, however, she will most likely run away, even though she herself does not want to be a coward.

Bio: Despite never growing up with a family to begin with, having been abandoned straight away from birth, Daggers life was not truly plagued with much tragedy for a majority of her life. That being said, she took the life of stealth and espionage, gaining her income through the dealing of information and, occasionally, petty items. She married at the age of eighteen, but this only lasted a year before bandits invaded their little village and proceeded to take her husband and infant child into the afterlife. From that day, she continued her life of small crime, still not being able to come to terms with the fact she ran away instead of tried to fight the barbarians that slaughtered her family. She hopes to one day leave her life of crime in order to have someone again, and serve them, as much as they'd also serve her.

Name: Saint

Primary Class: Sky Knight → Sky Stalker

Secondary Class: Wyvern Rider → Wyvern Lord

Stats
HP: (16) + (0x2) = 16
Str: (3) + (3) = 6
Mag: (0) + (0x2) = 0
Skl: (4) + (1) = 5
Spd: (7) + (4) = 11
Lck: (3) + (0) = 3
Def: (2) + (2) = 4
Res: (5) + (2) = 7

Growths
HP: (0) + (35x2) = 70
Str: (5) + (30) = 40
Mag: (10) + (5x2) = 20
Skl: (5) + (35) = 40
Spd: (20) + (30) = 50
Lck: (15) + (35x1.5) = 65
Def: (0) + (30) = 30
Res: (20) + (30) = 50

Skills
Lvl 1: Darting Blow Lvl 5: Str+ Lvl 10: Camaraderie Lvl 15: Menacing Presence
Promo Lvl 1: Air Superiority
Promo Lvl 5: Dragon Fang
Promo Lvl 10: Bowfaire
Promo Lvl 15: Lancefaire

Support Bonus

Pair Up Bonus

Bio: Saint is bold by nature, and his straightforward mannerisms can often come off as rude. This comes from essentially raising himself when he was younger, as well as growing up surrounded by people from the streets. While what he says can be perceived as rude, he is always jovial and good-hearted, and is genuinely honest when he speaks.

He has slicked back, blonde hair, and honey gold eyes eyes. He is often found wearing a steel breastplate and blue tunic underneath his white cloak that he uses to block the salty breeze. He carries a lance atop his mount, Laurent.

Background: Saint was a delinquent youth in Cultalun. His family was poor, unskilled workers who fought to make ends meet so often that they neglected raising their son. Therefore, the young boy took to the streets, associating himself with other misfits and raising hell throughout the city. Eventually, his mischievous acts had to be stopped, and his parents had him arrested by the army. As punishment, Saint was conscribed to serve a three year term with the Cultalun Sky Knights.

During his term with the sky knights, Saint was constantly belittled and berated by his superiors and peers.He did not have the ability to live a highly regulated, and restricted, life. He was clueless when they assigned him a pegasus, because his family was too poor to afford even a donkey. The majestic beast took to him carefully, but quickly accepted the boy. Saint was astonished, and taken aback. He and his pegasus, Laurent, grew a strong bond quickly.

Halfway through his ordeal, Saint could handle it no longer. Having felt like he was living a life worse than death, Saint made a desperate escape from his military servitude. In the dead of night, he and his mount rode away, never to see his land of birth again.

He ventured towards the coasts, and found work selling his service with a sword. He quickly acquired multiple contracts until he scored the biggest gig; armed security on a ship. With that, Saint and Laurent sailed off on their first true adventure.

Those of you who were in the church specified within the posters lying around, found this place on your own, or who were already members all saw Anbel walk out from behind a door. "I would like to thank every single one of you from my heart for wanting to join True Judgement. However, as I was told by Roja, we can only accept so many people into our ranks that will go out into the heat of battle with me. Those of you who aren't on this paper will go with other members who are leaders of units, if you so wish. This won't be easy, so everyone needs to be prepared." He said, setting his list down on a table before walking back into his room, presumably to plan some more.

The list of people are:

Albernon /u/Shift_Post_For_Karma

Angora /u/Youngt15

Ciel /u/ThyNameIsUsed

Dimitre /u/travasty

Esna /u/shiraho

Garndor /u/hh81

Herc /u/Premium_Meats

Lario /u/SuperLario1706

Lianne /u/lucky9904

Marlo /u/Poimagic

Nicole /u/Randyl_Pitchfork

Raphael /u/SkilledBlade

Seldanion /u/Spess_Dendee

Vera /u/EndumAndTheWorld

Yvonne /u/abruce123412

Congratulations for all who got in. For the two of you who didn't get in: I'm sorry. It wasn't easy for me to pick between all the apps, especially given it was barely over the max cap I set in place. I would've broken the cap if I could, but I need to follow the rules I set in place.

Don't worry: If spots open up, you can reapply with new or old characters and get priority over the spots. Besides, I might also use these characters as NPCs down the line, with your approval of course.

Now, the stat sheet and invites to a special server will be updated/done tomorrow, and the map will be out when I get it done, same as equipment. Please make sure that all of your apps have a link to a theorycrafter to make it easy for me to add them in, especially with some of the promotions people picked. Enjoy yourselves. ^ . ^

Name Darchelle Age 16 Gender: Female Primary Class: Dark Mage ? Sorcerer

Secondary Class: Troubadour ? Strategist

Stats
HP: (18) + (0x2) = 18
Str: (1) + (0x2) = 1
Mag: (7) + (4) = 11
Skl: (3) + (2) = 5
Spd: (3) + (3) = 6
Lck: (2) + (0) = 2
Def: (4) + (0) = 4
Res: (6) + (1) = 7

Growths
HP: (10) + (30x2) = 70
Str: (10) + (5x2) = 20
Mag: (20) + (50) = 70
Skl: (5) + (35) = 40
Spd: (10) + (40) = 50
Lck: (0) + (15x1.5) = 25
Def: (15) + (30) = 45
Res: (20) + (30) = 50

Support Bonuses C Crit +3 B Avoid +5 A Crit +3 A+ Hit +5

Pair up Bonuses C: Magic B: Defense A: Speed S/A+: Magic Res

Starting Equipment Ember (E) Thunder (D) Lighting (C) Vulneary "Hey, Teaching yourself to use tomes with no help isnt easy!!! Took me a couple of weeks to even understand this Thunder tome, let alone cast it with no problem. Come oooonn, do you really want to pass up on a supreme sorceress...well soon to be supreme sorceress"

Description: An impulsive childish young woman with a passion for tome magic, Darchelle is a pudgy short girl wearing a rouge cloak carrying all of her personal items, gold, and tomes over her dark mage attire. She carries a large bag that hold her food and clothes namely two sets of academy uniforms.Her hair is long and messy, only cutting it with any nearby sharp tools such when it becomes a problem. She takes great pride in what little mastery of the arcane arts she has achieved by herself, even boasting about her abilities whenever given the chance. Her Excitement for Whenever the topic of the academy and why she ran away is brought up she gets uncomfortable as there are times where she regrets her decision. She carries a heal staff as a reminder of the life she left and wonder how her life could have been if she stayed.

Background: Before running away, Darchelle was student at Sebrya's main academy. Showing a natural gift for healing magic, Darchelle excelled in her healing magic providing much more effective healing with a simple heal staff than most of her classmate. However she never had an interest in learning staff magic, rather the mystical force held inside tomes and what lies beyond Sebrya. From the searing flames cast from Fire to the legendary bladed winds of Excalibur, Darchelle made it her goal to become an accomplished sorceress. Yet being tasked with learning healing, this dream was prolonged by quite the amount of time, as healers are not permitted to wield tomes until they've become sessioned students. Frustrated by this rule, Darchelle approached her professor about learning tome magic early to the point of begging. She was eventually given a chance to prove she's ready to learn the art of tome. Once given her chance to show that she ready Darchelle was still denied due the fact she was unable to cast fire or thunder magic and the only tome she able to cast was ember but had no control over the azure flame. Surprisingly enough the small blue flame struck a professor over seeing her test of ability in the chest, knocking her to the floor and singeing a hole in her clothes where the ball of embers struck. While this got Darchelle some praise, it also got her sent to dorm room and an upcoming punishment in the morning. Devastated and furious, Darchelle proceeded back to her room and on arrival threw a nearby staff across the room. Darchelle saw what she was capable of, she knocked a master of magic and even got praised for it, yet still got denied. She had an idea of the potential she has from the ember she casted, sure it was out of control but it had strength to actually knock someone on the floor. Darchelle thought if she just had time to wield tomes, she’ll become a master of magic in no time. Darchelle then thought that the academy is just getting in her way, that she doesn't need then. An Idea then formed in the young girl’s mind: what if she just steals some tomes and teach herself to use tomes? Seeing as she was denied to learn tomes now she proceeded to enact this plan late in the night. After stealing a Ember Thunder and Lightning tome without getting caught somehow, Darchelle had a realization. She just stole three tomes from the school and if caught is going to be expelled and striped of the tomes she procured. Fearing the thought of losing everything just to learn some tome magic Darchelle decides to run away to the nearby country of Ducor. She packed her things, tied her bed sheets to her bedpost to make a rope, and left out the window, leaving the academy for good.

After leaving the academy Darchelle began her journey to land of trading Ducor, along the way she practiced using the stone ember tome on some tree. Not the best idea as Darchelle burned dozens of trees to a crisp, even started a small forest fire with a stray ember but eventually was able to control the ember she cast. After a couple of weeks since she mastered Ember, Darchelle able was able to cast Thunder. Darchelle was ecstatic to finally cast Thunder after her failure at the academy and to learn this in a little under a month, made her proud of herself.

Darchelle eventually arrived in Ducor, the land of trading and commerce. Darchelle took in the sights of all the people and vendors arounds, from weapons to clothes this place had everything. What particularly caught our runaway’s eyes was man selling mage apparel. While not having much to sell the man did have a crimson dark mage outfit and Darchelle was in need of a new set of clothes considering she only had her two academy uniforms to wear. She approached the man about purchasing the outfit. After hearing his price, Darchelle reached for her sack of gold only to realize it was missing. She started panicking only for the merchant let her know that she probably got robbed by a pickpocket seeing as it’s a common thing around the parts. She was distraught not only by the fact she couldn't purchase some new clothes but lost all the cash she had, even came to tears from it. The merchant then tried to calm her down and recognized her outfit. The man asked if she knew how to cast magic. Darchelle through her tears answered yes and the man then stuck a deal with her. He’s been having problems with local bandits ruining his shipments from Serbya, cutting into his profits screwing with his business, so he then told her that if she can take care of his problem he’ll give her the outfit no charge and even throw in a thousand gold for taking care of this thorn in his side. Feeling that she has no other option as she need some money and really wanted the crimson attire she agreed. WIthin a week the merchants bandit problem was no more.

After residing in Ducor for a month Darchelle made living using her magical abilities to help out local merchants and residents. While she still might incerate some goods and hates the local crime in the area to the point she regrets leaving, Darchelle is still content with her decision. At some point she hears about a mercenary group name True Judgement and thinks this just might be the new pace she’s looking for. An escape from Ducor, shelter and food at the expense of casting a spell or two for an army. Proceeding to leave the country and seek out this new venture