Characters

[Shan Gutarus]

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"A dream exists only in darkness."

Edited by: Luca the Thief at: 11/15/05 2:18

[Shan Gutarus]

Name Shanvorin Gutarus

Gender Male

Age 28

Race Shingar Wild Cat (originally human)

Tribe Avennorian

Occupation Searching for the three emerald figurines

Title Midnight Hunter

   Keep in mind that Shanvorin, as he was once called, is a shingar wild cat. But he still has the thoughts, memories, emotions and knowledge he had before he was transformed from his human form.

Appearance

Shan, as he was called by his closest of friends, was once a very handsome young man. With short, dirty blonde hair with sharp bleach blond highlights and his fair skin, Shan was known to make girls blush with his smile.

But after being trapped in the body of a shingar, Shan’s appearance has altered dramatically. Now, standing just about two fores off the ground to his shoulders and just over two and a half peds long, including a stretched out tail. Shanvorin’s glossy fur is short and very soft to the touch. It is near jet but on close inspection, it is simply a very dark gray with various sized black spots.

His large head has a large black nose and two, small, but sensitive, ears. Shan was able to retain his original blue eye color, causing for a bit of a bit of an oddity for others well versed in the animal world, but his new eyesight is just as sharp as any natural shingar.

His large feet are nearly the size of dinner plates, and they pad silently on any surface. Imbedded permanently in the center pad of his right paw, is a small emerald orb. Kindwin, the secret weaver who transformed Shanvorin, put it there, claiming it necessary for Shan to return to his human form after retrieving the three figurines. Shan’s razor sharp claws are a pearly white and glisten in the light when extended.  His sharp white teeth and are designed to rip and tear at anything that gets in their way, like rows of small daggers imbedded in his powerful jaws.

Personality

   Shan was an incredibly arrogant and conceited person. He respected nobody and thought himself better than every person around him. The young noble ordered anybody beneath him without a second thought and even second-guessed the advice given to him from his father. Shanvorin was immature and would have a fit if he didn’t get what he wanted when he wanted it.
   
Shan is not a shy person, especially around women. There were rumors that made girls blush and fathers worry, some even thought to be started by Shan himself. But that was all they were, rumors.
   
He feels no sympathy for people around him, but expects others to sympathize for the slightest of his problems or concerns. Shan is lazy and laid back, and when asked to the slightest chore, ignores it and goes off to have fun.
   Spoiled rotten, Shanvorin had never slept a night without a soft warm bed and the security of walls around him.

Strengths

Shan is very strong, capable of easily knocking a large person to the ground. His retractable razor sharp claws can rake through skin easily, and can get through leather in a short time. Because Shan was once human, his still limited knowledge of fighting tactics is still more than that of a normal shingar, however clever. The cat’s large padded paws move across nearly any surface in silence and he can pounce from yards away. Shan’s eyesight is sharp and accurate, especially in the night or any shadowed area.

The cat’s lithe figure can weave and jive through trees, brush and other obstacles easily. Shan’s reflexes are good, but his advantage is heightened even further when one takes into account his excellent hearing and eyesight.

Weakness’

   Shan wasn’t that smart, even before his transformation. He was tutored by his father in basic history, geography and the details of the area around him, but was never that interested and did not bother with further education. Shanvorin is rather ignorant, and still hasn’t gotten it through his head that he is a cat now, not the spoiled son of a nobleman.

Glares from bright lights hurt his sensitive eyes and his vision in very close range isn’t as sharp as long range. Not used to his new hearing ability, Shan sometimes hears simple bird songs as screeching calls. In very noisy places, he gets disoriented and confused by so many sounds coming so clearly from every direction.
   
The transformed human has only been in his new body for just over two months, and is still working out certain details. He has constant trouble with keeping his claws extended and has especial difficulty in climbing trees. It took Shan long enough time to get the hang of running with four legs, and still cannot harness it to his full potential.
   
Shan is terrible at chasing prey down, and must rely on ambushing and pouncing on something edible. He still hates eating meat raw, but after nearly starving himself in the beginning of his new experience, has managed to force himself to.

Belongings

Kindwin had given Shan a pouch, about two fists big, to carry the small emerald figurines he has yet to collect and the parchment with the riddle written on it. The shingar wears it on a long rope around his muscled neck like a person would a necklace.
   
Probably the most important item he carries with him, is the parchment given to him by Kindwin the weaver. On it is a poem, written by Kindwin himself (who, for some unknown reason, speaks completely in ryhme), that outlines Shan’s new mission in close detail, once one can decipher the strange riddle-like material. It talks of where he can find the three magical figurines and what may happen on his journey. How this came to be, nobody save the strange, but powerful, weaver knows.

History

In the known city of Marcogg, one Shanvorin Gutarus began his tale. He was born to the wealthy Delfiante Gutarus, known as the only son of a hardworking blacksmith and descendent of many such blacksmiths before him. Shanvorin’s grandfather worked a hard life, shutting out all those around him, even his own wife and son, to build a life as an excellent blacksmith and forger of great blades. He, along with his many ancestors, was skilled in the making of swords, daggers and other sharp pointy things.
   
The blacksmith’s legacy lived on, and his son had to work little to sustain a living, and his grandson had not to work at all, living incredibly comfortable off his family’s legacy. The great swords of the Gutarus men sold for a good amount of money since the Gutarus blades were sold only in the Marcogg area.
   
So it was that Shanvorin, or Shan as those around him preferred to call him, lived an easy life in the lap of luxury and planned to for the rest of his day. As a young boy, Shan, like so many other boys, imagined himself to become a great warrior and a hero of the land. But he soon learned that such messy work was unnecessary, since he could live off the money his forefathers’ worked so hard to come by. He thought nothing more of the future, other than to be youthful forever and that he should never have to worry about bothersome things like money and a family.
   
And so he grew, and as his size increased by leaps and bounds along with his arrogance (with intelligence plodding along the back end at a far third), Shan basked in his self-proclaimed glory. Shan was a good looking boy, usually being watched with the longing eyes of a young women and the jealous glares of his social competition. Shanvorin was an excellent story-weaver, often getting his nights’ worth of free ale by spinning wondrous stories of brave knights battling ferocious monsters, or silly tales of muddle brained dwarves and a pony that wouldn’t pull (but that’s a tale for a whole other time). Yes, Shan’s life was a good one, with as many friends as he could ask for and more enemies than he could count.
   
But of all his friends and close acquaintances, there was only one person he could really count on. Anhew Multin was also the son of a nobleman, and like Shan, didn’t need to lift a finger to get along in life. They were good friends, Anhew and Shanvorin, going off on walks and rides with each other, talking casually about anything and everything.

Shan’s father and Anhew were worried about the hot headed young man, now in his mid twenties. They tried to explain to him that if he kept on living how he did, money would run thin. Shan couldn’t spend the rest of his life handing coin out like presents and having a new woman each week. But Shan would hear none of it, going off and doing whatever it was he dreamed up of doing. But soon all that would change.

   
One morning in late spring when the sun shone and a crisp wind blew, Shanvorin went off for a ride by himself, down the road and along the edges of the Auturian Forest. It was a beautiful day, and the young man was in a good mood. He was 27 at the time, his birthday was coming up in a week and the event was already in the later stages of planning. He whistled a bright tune as he rode his horse along the thinner wood of the forest, for he knew that the elves became a bother if you ventured too far into the forest.
   
A voice broke his peaceful ride and Shan, curiosity getting the best of him, went to find out what it was. There, along the edge of a deep ravine was an old man, dressed in the robes of a mage. He was balding on the top of his head and his skin was weathered and wrinkled. Shan knew little of the ways of the magic users and couldn’t help find himself drawn to the curious old man.
   
As he approached, he caught what it was the old fool was saying. He was babbling on about his cane, and even more bizarre, he spoke all in rhyme. Shan dismounted and approached the old mage, asking what was wrong and why he was making such a racket. The mage introduced himself, as Kindwin the Illusionist. He explained to the young man that he had dropped his walking stick down into the ravine and was in no shape to fetch it himself.
   
“You’re in good shape, with your youth and that grin,” he said, rubbing the gray stubble that grew on his face, “Be a good boy, now, and get the cane for old Kin.”
   
But Shan would hear none of it. He would never do a degrading task such as a fetching a stick for a stranger (who was obviously not well off in the ways of money). He began explaining how he was a very important person in Marcogg, insisting that Kindwin must have heard of the Gutarus family.
   
“But think of it, boy! You would be help an old man. Would you rather be known as the idiot who ran?”
   
Of course not! I don’t care what people think of me. When somebody hears the name Shanvorin Gutarus, I want them to think of a handsome, wealthy man who with the best of social circles,” Shan replied.
   
That had been the last straw. Kindwin pointed a finger at him and began to lecture the young man about values and morals. But Shan, now becoming quite tired of the ignorant old mage and his crazy notions, turned to leave.
   
Those few minutes were a blur to Shan, all he remembered were some strange words being said by Kindwin and a staff that seemed to have appeared out of thin air. Most would believe that the transformation would be incredibly painful, but in fact, he could barely feel a thing save the bizarre feeling of magic coursing through his body.
   
For how long Shanvorin lay there unconscious on the deserted forest floor, nobody knows. All that is known, that when he awoke, the stars had risen and the only light in the forest was the bright moonlight filtering through the thick green foliage of the forest. There, snoring soundly under a large tree, was the old mage, staff in hand.
   
Believing the old man had attacked him and knocked him out, Shan went to stand and confront him, but to his surprise, his body seemed…altered. And altered it was. For Shan no longer appeared the handsome young male, clad in expensive clothes and glittering jewelry, but was now a shingar wild cat.
   
At that moment, the old mage, or should we say, the experienced old weaver, awoke (if he had, in fact, even been sleeping) and approached the confused and horrified Shan. And this is what he said:
   
“You’re crazy, you know, for not helping a bit. Look at you now! Just a stupid old kit! With your claws and your teeth, no more gold you can show. But I can still help, boy, wouldn’t you like to know. I’ll tell you, oh sure, send you away. But this is a chore you can’t do in a day. Go out in the world, that place you shut out. Find three small figures, of emerald, no doubt. Now here is a riddle, this rhyming old thing. It’s a song, I suppose, but I really can’t sing:

The sun rises red
Upon the shadows of night
Riding swift through the trees
On a journey tonight

Take them far, draw them near
Be stubborn as rock
It’s warm now, ‘round there
Not much of shock

A tear for a soldier
And one for her babe
Clouds meet with the earth
On the bottom, she laid

Follow the unusual
Down to the blue
Nights filled with mirth
All watching with you

Let them not
Be lost in vain
Gather what’s needed
Before the gathering rain

Follow a glimmer
Become someone’s hero
Remember who fought
But were left nothing but zero

Lost new friend and old friend
But made one anew
Share time with a loved one
With sunset on blue

That was your destiny
And this is your fate
May gods always be with you
Though just some years too late.”

   The bizarre poem seemed plain gibberish to the cat, who had begun to calm down…somewhat. He stared blankly at the wizard, with his natural blue eyes. Sighing, Kindwin realized that some people didn’t enjoy, and understand, riddles quite as much as himself. So he looked at the pitiful animal and said to him, “Listen boy, you’ve been a jerk all your life. You think you’re so great, because of granddaddy’s knife. Well listen up, kid, and listen up good. For what I will tell you is not quite as rude. Follow the song, and I mean read it right. It’s not quite as clear as a beacon of light. I’ve scattered three figures, and I’ve said that before. Find these green statues, no less and no more. See that green circle? The one in your paw? Touch each with that orb, it’s some kind of law. Now where was I? Oh yes! Then you’ll have completed your quest. You’ll be human again, no fur left at all. Be handsome and gentle and just as damn tall! So be off, great big cat, with your midnight dark fur. You’re a scary thing, really, a pity for her.”

   
Still quite confused, Shan tried to stand again, now on four legs. He managed, his new strong limbs wobbling under him. Attempting to walk, he tried to draw closer to the mage who was now preparing to leave, seemingly have forgotten about the cat. But two small steps and his claws sprung out from the cover of his large forefeet, digging into the dirt beneath him. They held fast to the ground and the cat plummeted to the ground with a heavy thud.
   
Kindwin spun, staring at the cat like he had never seen such a thing in his life. A flicker of life appeared in his forgetful eyes. “Are you still here? Oh yes, now I know! A new body takes practice, though it might start out slow.” The mage smiled sincerely and came up to the cat. He stuffed a rolled up parchment into a small bag and then tied the bag around the shingar’s neck. With a pat on the head, the mage turned and left without a glance back.

   
Shan hadn’t slept that night. It had taken him three hours to learn how to walk and to realize a few things about his new body, mainly experimenting with his claws and finding some entertainment with his tail. He wandered slowly and carefully around the forest. It’s all a dream. Just a dream. I’ll wake up in my nice bed in a warm house and tell my friends what a silly dream I had. he tried to tell himself. But he never did wake up.
   
Kindwin had kindly left a dead deer on the forest floor. The kindly old mage had cast a simple spell over it, to keep nasty little critters from picking at Shan’s first raw dinner. The shingar stared at it for almost an hour, disgusted at the fact that he would have to eat raw meat. He prodded at it with his foot and sniffed it with a nose he was finding to be quite an interesting tool. But Shan was hungry, and there was nothing he could do but eat it. He was surely in no shape to go hunting, even he could admit that.
   
At first the deer tasted horrible, like he was drinking blood. But Shan realized that it was a surprisingly satisfying meal, however revolting it was. After finishing the deer, Shan sat on his hind legs and stared out into the forest. What do I do now? was a thought that coursed through his mind constantly.
   
He found out soon enough. Shan learned that his steps were really quite quiet. Thinking back to his days of being tutored by his father, he remembered learning some quick facts about the animals that lived in the area where they lived. Shan knew then what to do. He must hunt. He crouched in the brush nearby and waited…and waited yet some more. After 3 hours of long waiting, a deer came plodding by, nibbling at grasses and shrubs. It’s not that far Shan reasoned with himself. He coiled down into a pouncing position, just how he had seen cats that pounced on mice around the city, and waited until the deer was close enough.
   
Springing into action, Shan flew through the air, he claws poised for the kill and his powerful jaws ready. The flying black cat came to a crashing thud a few peds from where the deer had once stood, though the animal was bounding away into the forest. After countless, similar attempts, the hungry shingar eventually caught something. Newly humbled, Shan learned to be quite fond of rabbit meat as the weeks passed.

   
Shanvorin lived miserably for the next month or so. Rain soaked through his fur and chilled him to the bone. The summer’s sun tortured him as every ray was absorbed into his ebony coat. Raw meat was still undesirable and Shan longed for his mother’s stews and fresh breads.
   
One day, as the shingar was walking through the Auturian forest, as he did daily, a sound made his small but sensitive ears prick up. It was the sound of a woman talking. Elated, Shan was convinced all of Marcogg had sent a search party out for him. They were calling his name, he was sure of it, as he neared and the faint sound grew louder.
   
But his hopes were shot down as he cleared some brush and saw a woman sitting on a branch overhanging a deep and treacherous ravine. He turned to leave but for some reason, Shan couldn’t pull himself to do it. As he crept closer, Shan was shocked to learn the truth.
   
Clinging desperately to the over hanging branch, a young elfmaid, appearing no older than 25 by human standards, with sun bleached, auburn hair, called out in elven again. The branch was weak and breaking, and would soon fall off completely.
   
The timid shingar approached cautiously, curious at what the beautiful woman would do. She stopped and stared at him when she saw him. Her large eyes were a pretty hazel and Shan knew she was from the elves that inhabited these woods. He had learned about them. The humans and elves in the area tried to keep separate, for old anger over wood still lived within the residents of both the elven community and the men.
   
She stared at him pleadingly, and said something. Shan could not speak elvish, but he thought, by the tone of her voice, it was “help me, please”. But what business did Shan have with this woman? What was it to him she fell to her death? Maybe she was a magic-user! Maybe she could help him turn back into a human again! His father would pay her family off and they would never worry about it again.
   
His hopes fogging any better judgement, Shan moved closer and examined the situation closely. It was simply really. All he had to do was drag the woman closer to the more stable part of the branch. He backed up a few steps and then leapt, digging his claws (which he had practiced with over the past month) and attempted to climb the tree. It was slow, and for every two feet he climbed, the shingar slid down one.
   
But before long, Shan was sitting as close to the trunk of the tree as possible. The elf had watched him curiously throughout his climbing. She looked both confused and frightened, and not so much of falling to her death anymore. The ebony panthers were rare and some believed they were evil, at least that was Shan was told by some of his friends.
   
But he had no time to comfort the elfmaid, she could be the one who turns him back into a human! He took a cautious step further, and the woman recoiled at first, watching the shingar intently. He didn’t have time for this! Catching the edge of her cloak in his teeth, Shan began tugging at it, not too hard for the last thing he wanted was her to fall off.
   
The woman, who Shan could see now was some kind of warrior, since she carried a loaded quiver and bow with her, seemed to understand and wrapped her arms around the cat’s thick muscled neck. Shan pulled, and with surprising ease, pulled the woman to safety. She smiled and patted the cat on the head and jumped to the forest floor, landing with grace and silence. Shan, on the other hand, hesitated at first and lowered himself from the branch, dangling from his forepaws until dropping to the grass below.
   
The elfmaid stared in disbelief and wonder, and began circling the cat. Shan watch her do so, and approached her, rubbing his head up against her leg as he had seen cats do in the past (he had once seen cats as nasty pests that simply got fur all over his clothes and made some of his friends sneeze).
   
The two locked stares for a moment, and the woman crouched down as she pet the cat. She was whispering something to herself in elvish, but Shan could not follow it at all. Eyeing the bag that was tied around the cat’s neck, the red headed elf picked it up and opened it. Out she pulled the rolled up parchment Kindwin had given Shan. She unrolled it and read it over. Confused she muttered to herself and looked at it confused.
   
Shanvorin circled around her and looked at the parchment. There it read that strange poem the old mage had said! At the top it was titled: Song of a Midnight Cat.
   
The elf blinked and then turned to Shan. This time speaking in Common, she said, “Are you the midnight cat? Are you a sign?” Her eyes flickered and then the woman exclaimed, “Yes! A sign from the gods! You will lead me on my adventure, won’t you, midnight cat?”
   
Shan nodded his big head slowly. That was all the woman needed and she patted him on the head. “Lead on, midnight cat!”

   
The next while was very strange. Shan, or the midnight cat as the woman constantly called him, went on his daily, random walks through the forest, only to have this red-headed elf follow him around. Shan thought it a terrible nuisance since she did not appear to be a magic user as the cat had hoped. Al she seemed interested it was the parchment, which she read over several times a day, and the emerald orb that was imbedded into his right paw which she thought incredible peculiar.

   
Shanvorin was walking through the forest, with the red-headed elfmaid at his side, when she stopped dead in her tracks. Maybe she realizes that I don’t want her following me around all day he told himself, as he continued walking.
   
“Midnight cat! Wait!” she exclaimed, and Shan turned his head to stare at her. “I get it now! It’s a map. Well, somewhat. It’s telling us to go somewhere! Look…riding swift through the trees on a journey tonight. I’m on a journey! But that’s not all: Be stubborn as rock. Now, what is stubborn as rock?”
   
Unimpressed, Shan flopped down onto his side and began scratching at the earth with his foot. He stared at her but he couldn’t help but admit that this crazy woman was beginning to make sense.
   
“Rocks. Stubborn. Think of it! Dwarves, midnight cat! We need to go to the dwarves!” she continued, her usually emotionless face beaming brightly. “And here. It’s warm now, around there It’s summer, no? That pass through the mountains. I was told of it. It’s passable only in the warm months! Aren’t you excited, midnight cat? We must follow this message to go to the mountains!”
   
Shan sat up now, interested. What had that mage said?. Shan didn’t have to think hard. The mage’s words rung in his head each time he thought of the brief meeting with Kindwin. Follow the song, and I mean read it right. It’s not quite as clear as a beacon of light.. Of course! It was a riddle. If he could, Shan would have hugged her. Standing quickly, the shingar took hold of the woman’s cloak and began tugging eagerly towards the general direction of the northeast, and the known Mithril Mountains.
   
The elfmaid needed little prodding, for after stuffing the parchment into a pocket (where she now decided to keep it) was off at a run beside the trotting shingar. Shan thinks now of what will he find in the mountain pass, for good or for ill, only Seyella can tell.

"A dream exists only in darkness."

[Paladia Entonei]

Name: Paladia Entonei

Gender: Female

Age: 254

Race: Elf

Tribe: Tethinrhim

Occupation: Kaierian warrior

Title: Auburn Archer

Appearance:

   Paladia, or Pally as she likes to be called, is young elfmaid, appearing no older than 25. She is a very attractive young woman, some would even say beautiful. Her red hair, highlighted with strawberry blonde, is long and straight, falling just past her shoulder blades. On her head, Pally is often seen wearing a cream bandana to keep her bangs and long hair from meddling with her view. Her skin is fair and soft and Pally’s large almond eyes are hazel. Pally has been trained as a warrior and athlete from a very young age. Her muscles are toned for speed and flexibility. She is of average height, standing just under two peds tall. Her elven ears are long and pointed, her body is lithe with long slender limbs.
   
Tattooed on her left arm is tattoo she was given at birth. It appears to be an arrow with a rose on a vine spiraling up around it. She also bears the warrior band tattoo which is attached to the original one.
   
Pally wears a short green skirt with slits up the sides to provide the maximum amount of movement and flexibility. Her top is a cream colored band that is no more than one and half palmspans wide. During the day, she wears a forest green vest but on cooler days or nights, it is replaced by a long green cloak with a deep hood. On her feet, Pally wears soft leather boots that help her move with ease and silence.
   
Personality:
   
At heart, Paladia is a wild spirit who is constantly wondering and yearning for adventure and exploration. But the strict Kaierian training forced her to supress these natural feelings to become an obediant and serious person. Pally is stoic and serious, sometimes thought to be cold. It takes a long time for the elf to warm up to people and even then, is very subtle in expressing emotion.
   
She bottles up her emotions and tries to vent out anger or frustration into physcial activity. Her temper is actually quite short, and it took a lot of concentration and self dicipline for her to learn to control it.

Pally takes pity on those less fortunate in any way, whether they be disabled, poor or low on the social totem pole. This behaviour is sometimes seen as haughty or snobbish. Pally think that elves are the perfect race, one step away from the gods. She looks down on humans and dwarves, and wouldn't even talk to a brownie if it could be avoided.

Paladia is quite a tomboy. She is clueless when it comes to men and any kind of fliratious action. Pally wouldn't know how to do up her hair for a party, and her walk is graceful, but not in a feminine, gentle way, but more of the stealthy stalk of a warrior.

Weapons:
   
Paladia excelled at her Iteh training and her teachers found her quite ‘gifted’ in the art. She is quite good in hand to hand sparring, but that was when she knew her teachers would come to a point and help her. Pally is paranoid of what would happen when she meets her first real fight, where her life could be at stake.
   
Of the basic weapons she was trained in, Paladia instantly fell in love with the long bow. Her aim is dead on and she could draw and set the weapon faster than most. Though she was trained with a few other weapons, Paladia always found the larger ones cumbersome and large, never really taking to them naturally.

Belongings:
   
Paladia was given her bow and quiver by her mother. The set once belonged to her grandfather, a well known Kaierian warrior. It passed straight from him to his only granddaughter, since Pally’s mother never took to the advanced Kaierian training. Even when Pally is at rest, the bow and quiver are never far from her reach. Pally also carries with her a dagger that she keeps concealed with her almost all the time, but only uses it as a last resort in combat.
   
Pally wears the cream colored bandana that was worn by her late older brother, who died honorably in battle at a young age. It does not mean much when it comes to sentimental value, since Pally did not really know her brother. But the fact that he died in honor, she gives the token of remembrance the respect she believes it deserves.
   
Her traveling pack is loaded scarcely, the petite woman wanting to have to carry the least burden possible. She has with her only the minimal amount of supplies and needed tools, along with a small, one-person tent and a bed-roll. Trained as a ranger, Pally rarely sees need to have rations of food with her, though she always keeps some dried fruit, some bread (if traveling time permits) and at least one full water skin with her for precaution.

Strengths

Paladia took great pride in her studies and did well in ranger training. She has a lot of knowledge about the plants and animals of the area. She speaks elvish and common tongue fluently and is generally legible in both. Her sense of direction is good and Pally can read and understand maps quite well.

Pally is a quick person who can dodge and dive quickly. With sharp reflexes and a wide range of acrobatic ability, Paladia is a difficult target to catch. Her aim with a bow is true and she can ready the weapon with a thought. In combat, Pally has nerves of steel and is quick thinking when it comes to battle schemes. She is used to working alone and can cope quite well when separated from a group. Paladia is calm and collected at all times, and can suppress her emotions enough to choose the best solutions.

Weakness’

Pally was trained about the animals and plants in and around the Auturian forest. Her knowledge of the world outside the woods is extremely limited. She has had extremely little contact with other races; only with some humans that received passage through the forest by the elves. She is closed-minded at times and feels that if it is to be done right, it should be done her way.

Paladia bottles up all her emotions and rarely expresses herself. When angry, Paladia tends to vent it out in physical activity and isolating herself from a group. Used to being a follower, Pally has difficulty giving orders or standing up for herself, since such things were never of her concern back at home. Paladia is bad at reading people’s character and thinks that any elf is a good elf.

Pally is not good with heavy or large weapons and her physical strength is not very high. She tires quickly but refuses to give up, even if it would be for her own good. A few times, in her intensive training in the Ria, Pally was known to work until she passed out of exhaustion.

History

Pally’s mother was an average Tethinrhim woman, not taking very hard to the training she was given. She never fought and was a kind hearted person. She cared for her children with all her heart and soul, and always encouraged them when she could.

Paladia’s father, on the other hand, was a skilled Kaierian warrior. He constantly pushed Pally and her late older brother to excel in their training and studies, always expecting the best from them. And to boost his pride, they did just that.

Pally, as a young child, was wild and curious about the world around her. Her parents had difficulty keeping track of her, as she would often go out adventuring on her own into the forest. Paladia had few friends growing up, for her optimistic attitude for life and her rambunctious ways were often seen as rough and hyper. To her father’s dismay, they thought she would never do well in the intensive training of a Kaierian.

As she took to the basic studies that all Tethinrhim receive, her teachers were surprised. Her high energy levels and quick mind made her seem like the perfect fighter. With her fun-loving spirit, the trainers turned their heads, knowing that if she went on to the advanced training of the famed warriors, her days of exploration and care-free attitude would come to an abrupt end.

And so they did. She was asked to join the advanced training classes of the Kaierian. Her first year, she received many punishments, both verbal and physical, from her teachers. It had begun, and Paladia’s mind began conforming into what they wanted her to be.

She became attentive and self-disciplinary, often punishing herself for little mistakes, forcing herself to do better. Paladia’s father encouraged her and pushed her on, and her older brother was doing quite well. She went through the levels at average pace, and took to her studies and training with discipline and intelligence.

Her brother, a graduated Kaierian warrior, was out on with a party one day with a group of traveling bandits and raiders entered their area of the Outran woods. Her brother was sent out to shoo the meddling humans away, but they refused. Before the rest of his scouting party could come and aid him, he was stabbed in the chest by the lead bandit and died with honor in battle.

The bandana he wore around his neck most of the time was given to Paladia to remember him by. Pally never really knew her brother, but wore it proudly and gave the token of her brother’s life the respect she felt it deserved.

The years went by, and Pally’s training intensified. She gained a love for the study of the world around her, about the land, the plants and the animals. She found the other races they discussed, for only brief lessons, fascinating; especially the humans with some good and some evil, and so many of them neutral in a world of good and evil.

Paladia’s life was a stressful one. She devoted any spare time she had to further her studies or training. She still longed in her heart to adventure out in the woods , but the young elf couldn’t disappoint her father. His only son was dead, and he was so proud of his only remaining child. She had done what he dreamed of her doing, and was bursting with pride whenever he spoke of her.

Her mother, on the other hand, worried. She thought that her daughters spirit dwindled more and more each day. Even if she did love to learn and train in the Ria, the elfmaid knew that her daughter just wanted to be free and explore the world around her. Even after the Kaierian training, she would have to follow the strict protocol of the warriors.

Pally’s grandfather had been just like her. He was a wild spirit, always wanting to adventure and discover new things. There was not much left to remember the dead elf by, for he too died honorably in battle. So Pally’s mother gave her daughter the best thing she could think of. From a deep chest in their home, her mother gave Paladia a bow. Pally had taken naturally to the weapon in her training, and loved the pretty carvings and design of the long bow and its matching quiver. Her mother was pleased. Maybe the spirit of her grandfather would rekindle Pally’s natural love of adventure and discovery.

Finally it came time for Paladia to go out on a journey to complete one level of her training. She had been waiting so long for this moment. She could finally prove to her family, peers and teachers how good she was.

She had been traveling for a week, nothing particularly interesting having happened in her time. She began doubting her skills. Maybe she was missing out on something, maybe she was doing something wrong. Pally’s hopes began to sink, hoping to the gods that she hadn’t failed.

One day, as she was walking, she came along an old man. He seemed lost and confused. Paladia had never had the chance to talk to a human in person and was thrilled at the chance. Though she remember the rules, that unaccompanied strangers to the forest should be interrogated.

“Old One! What do you think you’re doing here? You can’t be here with out an elven escort,” she said as sternly as she could in common. It had been taught to her in training since many humans could not speak elvish. Pally had a strong respect for her elders and superiors, and had a feeling that this old man was one who deserved respect.

He looked up, his eyes seemed confused as he looked at the young elf, who appeared no older than 25 to the eyes of a human. “Ah, young woman. Could you help an old drip? I’ve dropped my cane and there’s a pain in my hip. I have nothing to pay, none but my thanks. I hope you are noble, like the others in your ranks.”

She nodded slowly, not wanting to leave an old man defenseless in the forest. “Where is your cane, Old One?” she asked patiently. He nodded and pointed towards a treacherous ravine to the side with a gnarled hand. Paladia gawked, “It’s down there? It must be thirty peds down! With brambles and the sort. I’m sorry, sir, but--.”

The old man waved a hand and sighed, exasperated, and raised his hand slightly, pointing out. A tree had ground along the side of the ravine, its limbs overhanging the ditch. Trapped in some of limbs was a long, straight wooden staff with a gnarled knot of wood at the top, that actually reminded Pally of the old man’s hand. She sighed and cursed to herself, beginning to get onto the branch.

The old man talked gaily, mostly to himself. He introduced himself as Kindwin the Greatness, and babbled something about the weather and how it should be a lovely moon that night. Pally thought she heard him say something about shingars, but it was hard to tell because of his incessant rhyming!

Groaning, Pally stopped to rest as she moved along the branch above the ravine. She looked back at the man who had stopped talking, but to her surprise, he was gone! She thought he had drifted off somewhere and turned back to her effort of getting back his cane, but to her surprise, it wasn’t there either! Was she going mad? She had only been out on her own a week or so, was she unfit for travel?

Making to move back to solid ground (the swaying branch not the most desirable of places) she froze. She hadn’t realized how far this tree actually bent over the gap. It would be a long, and painful fall down, she thought, and the bottom was lined with jagged rocks and various sized boulders. It could mean her death if she were to fall.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, Paladia’s sharp elven ears picked up the distinct sound of ripping. Like the sound of a plant being ripped from the earth. Horror filled her mind…the trees roots were being ripped from the earth that supported it; and her.
She moaned in despair, this wasn’t how she pictured death at all! She wasn’t even a graduated Kaierian warrior and this was far from an honorable death. Trapped on a branch and falling to her death in a river of rocks at the bottom of a ravine. Trying to help an old man, that Pally was actually beginning to doubt existed. She cursed aloud angrily, but it wasn’t as if anybody would hear her. Patrols of Kaierian rarely came out in this area of the forest.

A rustle in a bush made her heart leap. Maybe the old man had come back and could help her. But emerging from the brush was far from a muddle-brained old mage. A beautiful cat, its shining coat a deep ebony that glistened over rippling muscled emerged from the shadow. It’s blue eyes, a rare color for such an animal, shone with uneasy intelligence and a knowing watchful gaze became unsettling. It paced, watching Paladia with close scrutiny. As it walked, with a bit of an off tempo pace as if such movement were awkward,, a green tinted shine caught Pally’s peripheral vision.

But before she could think on it further, the cat did the strangest of things. The graceful shingar, an animal that was respected in the area, pulled itself onto the branch. It did so with difficulty, and Paladia understood that the shingar were excellent tree climbers. Maybe it was wounded? It made it to the branch that Pally clung to, in her awe, she had forgotten about her precarious situation. It crept slowly towards her, the roots of the tree breaking free of the earth like the breaking of bread.

The cat, it’s bright blue eyes watching her constantly, clamped onto the edge of her cloak gently, but firmly, and began tugging. He was helping her! She took the cue, and began to slowly crawl back to the ledge with renewed confidence.

She made it back to the trunk and hopped from it. The cat seemed to hesitate and struggle, then leaped from the tree and landed roughly. It circled her curiously, always watching, and Pally watched in turn, her own curiosity burning in the back of her mind. Jet shingars were relatively rare, only a few seen by people she knew. She was told to give them respect and space for they were ferocious and skilled hunters.

Follow your instincts and your journey will be worth while were the parting words her father had given her as she left for this part of her Kaierian training. What were her instincts now? This cat saved her life. It’s intelligence and knowing, watchful gaze seemed unsettling, yet comforting in a way. Pally knelt down and rubbed its large head. The cat’s ears folded back and pushed into her touch, raising a paw to her knee. Pally’s breath caught in her throat.

Imbedded into the large pad of the shingar’s forepaw was a emerald orb, the size of a child’s marble. It was a pretty bauble, and would sell well in any market. Paladia was no jeweler, but she knew that the perfection of the sphere was remarkable. She held the cat’s paw in her slender hand then looked at the cat. Tied around it’s thick, muscled neck by a long rope was a simple brown bag. She opened it, the cat not seeming to care, and dipped a hand inside. All that she felt was the crumple of parchment at her touch.

Pulling it out, Paladia unrolled it. Written on the good quality paper, with a steady hand, was a song, it seemed. She read it over slowly in her mind:

The sun rises red
Upon the shadows of night
Riding swift through the trees
On a journey tonight

Take them far, draw them near
Be stubborn as rock
It’s warm now, ‘round there
Not much of shock

A tear for a soldier
And one for her babe
Clouds meet with the earth
On the bottom, she laid

Follow the unusual
Down to the blue
Nights filled with mirth
All watching with you

Let them not
Be lost in vain
Gather what’s needed
Before the gathering rain

Follow a glimmer
Become someone’s hero
Remember who fought
And left nothing but zero

Lost new friend and old friend
But made one anew
Share time with a loved one
With sunset on blue

That was your destiny
And this is your fate
May gods always be with you
Though just some years too late.

It made no sense to her and only added to her confusion. Sighing, she replaced it to the cats bag and pulled the string to seal it shut. Then it became clear. It was a sign from the gods! She would follow with cat, with a  coat like the midnight starless sky, to lead her on her adventure. What a tale it would be! “Are you a sign, midnight cat? You will lead me on my adventure?”

The cat stared at her with an expressionless face. It bobbed its head slowly then began to walk away. Pally exclaimed and leapt to her feet. She began walking, just behind the cat. It did not run, but merely cast a wary glance back at her with his baby blue eyes.

She followed the cat, Midnight Cat, she called the shingar. She slept near him and he would lay by her fire at night. It would leave to hunt, then return later and would be off. It did not seem to mind her company, too much, it seemed to Paladia. It was content to sit by fires as she talked to it, but it wasn’t as if the cat understood any of her conversation. It was lonely, but not as lonely as it could have been.

Pally studied the song constantly, curious behind it’s meaning or where it came from. Then one day, it hit her. It was a riddle. Some kind of message. She tried to explain it to the cat, trying to get some recognition from the shingar. “Don’t you see? It’s a message! We’re on a journey tonight, no, Midnight Cat? And look at this. Be stubborn as rock. Like the dwarves. I hear they can be awfully stubborn! Just like the rock they work! And here, it confirms it!” she said, her excitement growing as the shingar seemed to take interest now. “Look, Midnight Cat. It’s warm now, around there. There’s a pass, to get through those mountains. I hear it only opens in summer. It’s summer now! Oh, don’t you see, Midnight Cat?” It was all coming together, and the intelligent animal seemed to agree. It excitedly began tugging at her cloak hem, pulling her roughly towards the north east, and roughly towards the Mithril Mountains.

Paladia finally got her adventure. The one she had dreamed of all her life. Full of mystery and intrigue, adventure and traveling. This was what she had been waiting for.

"Fall down seven times, stand up eight"

[Terra Artemos]

Name: Terra Artemos

Race: Human

Tribe: Sophronian

Title: Wandering Warrior

Sex: Female

Age: 27

Hair: Long, Deep, almost blood Red.

Eyes: Brown

Hight: One ped, nine palmspans

Build: Athletic.

Home Land: The city of Sophronia

Strengths:

Terra is intelligent and mentally disciplined which of allow her to focus on a problem and find a solution despite any distractions. She also has good instincts which she has learned to trust and has learned to be more observant with her keen senses, using all of them more effectively than many people. Her intelligence, discipline, instincts and well developed senses combine to give her a unique and often fuller perception, both in combat and in her travels, and allow her to react very quickly. Her focus and discipline also make her less susceptible to spells targeting the mind and to drugs meant to affect the mind.

Terra is quick and agile, and uses it to  her greatest advantage in combat, dodging or blocking then striking almost as if in a single movement. Her stamina and tolerance of pain keep her from wearing as quickly as others in the heat of battle, and combined with her focused mind can also serve to stay the affects of injuries, such that they do not appear to affect her till they become serious, or over exerted.

Terra is exceptionally good with her moonblade, for one not born to the Kasumarii, adapting her Kar'ii training into a unique fighting style better suited to her warrior's spirit. She is quite good with a dagger, applying some of the same principals to using it as she does with her moonblade.


Weaknesses:

Terra is not particularly strong, and must wait for an opening to use her quickness and agility, this makes her illsuited to fights it tight spaces, where her movement is limited, but can still be a significant threat. Despite her stamina, tolerance of pain, she can not sustain any more injuries in number or sevearity than most other warriors, if a limb becomes seriously injured or over exerted it will go lame, and not support her efforts despite having no apparent effects of her injuries up to this point.

Terra does not have much resistance to magic attacking her physically. Her  ablity to 'displace' objects takes great mental effort leaving her extremely drained, and unable to ward off additional attacks till she has rested.
She has just enough ability with her "Twins" throwing knives to use then, but is not very accurate, and her lack of accuracy makes her dangerous to anyone in the general direction of her target.

Occupation:

Terra is a warrior, her services range from being a bodyguard to a fighter, and she may even work to retrieve items if the cause is honourable. Terra does not care for gaining riches or grand glory for her services, she would be happy just to have her basic needs covered, such as shelter, food, maintenance of her armour and weapons when needed, and a fare amount of currency for her to live on once her services are no longer required.

Long Bio



Description:

Terra looks her age of 27 years old. Her cool, attractive face, unscared despite her battles, is framed by straight, deep red hair that falls past her shoulders. The colour is near enough to that of blood that it does not show easily. Her hair naturally stays out of her face most of the time, except in the heat of battle where it may sometimes be tied back, but not often as it does not bother her. Her brown eyes can always be seen coolly and vigilantly sweeping her environment and drinking in the details others may miss.

She is tall, standing one ped and nine palmspans. Her body is well proportioned and athletic, with nothing out of place, which leads to a rather attractive appearance. She has only a few scars on her body; most are usually not seen as they reside under her clothing. The only scar she has exposed to sight is a fine scar on the back of her left hand, which is barely visible and almost healed, left by a wound from a sparing session in the early stages of her training with the Kar'ii. Terra has a few other scars like this on her arms, also caused by shallow cuts inflicted during the course of her training. Though the speed at which she picked up the skills of using a Moonblade means that there are not many.

To most observers Terra appears cool, even stoic, but she carries herself with grace and pride, that only accentuates her height. It is not unusual for Terra to wear a pear of metal armlets that extend from her wrists and curve gently to a dull point protecting the elbow. She always wears her greatly cherished Moonblade at her hip; the scabbard taking its place behind a plain brown belt, if not it is very rarely farther than arms reach. Terra mainly has two modes of dress. She will often wear her armour, despite being heavier that other outfits she may have. It is made in a way that makes it comfortable enough to wear it regularly, as its weight is distributed evenly across her whole body, and she can move easily and freely in it without discomfort. On occasion when the situation demands she will where a simple yet elegant white dress.

Personality:

Strangers and those who simply employ her and take no time to get to know her, usually see Terra as cool, serious, disciplined, focused and professional, perhaps some more observant than others will pick up an air of torment from her. Though those that take the time to actually talk to her can start to see that there is more to this unusual young woman than was first apparent, she has a strong will that feeds her discipline, a spiritual side despite not following any of the gods, and a stubborn streak, especially when denying her spiritual side.

Her spiritual side is most notably apparent when she speaks about things that are not tangible, usually reciting or paraphrasing old or unusual sayings, or giving her own unique perspective on stories that fits the topic at hand. When topics turn to evil it becomes quite clear, especially when stated outright, that Terra does not believe that evil can ever be destroyed, only kept in control. As for stories about demons it becomes clear that Terra does not believe most of them at face value, but in stead as a way to blame a foreign evil rather than face the evil that exists inside everyone, and thus the reason why evil can never truly be destroyed.

It also becomes more apparent to those that take time to get to know her, that something horrible had happened to her, though she will not talk about it, and none can be certain if she can't or simply won't. As it turns out Terra did witness something that was beyond her ability to cope with shortly after arriving on Guldor, the home of the Kasumarii people. This event inflicted her with a unique form of amnesia, where all memories prior to and including this event were repressed, and her mind as it had been was so traumatized that it was merely swept aside for a new one to take root, though fragments of the old remain imbedded within the new one. Terra can sometimes be impacted by eruptions of the memories of the event on Guldor, but these grow rarer as she slowly faces her internal trauma, and becomes more disciplined of the mind. Though not impacted by the full magnitude of the event, the eruptions bring back great pain, sorrow, and fear. Her reaction can vary depending on the severity of the eruptions from simply looking distant, or entering a catatonic state, with tears running freely and silently down her face, to curling into a fettle position and wailing her pain and sorrow uncontrollably till the eruption ceases, or her voice gives out, and merely convulses for the remainder of the eruption. Other than her reactions to the eruptions of memory, she only expresses severe anger, frustration and irritation in a clear outwardly way, usually as short venomous outbursts, but these are rare as things usually do not get to her to this extent. Otherwise she expresses her emotions in a very subtle manner all but those more observant of human behaviour would usually miss, usually just the slightest change in her facial expression and tone are the only indications of how she feels.

Despite her amnesiac state, Terra is still very self-aware, and it is this inner sight that drives her internal quest. She is aware of the amnesia, and the eruptions bring awareness of the traumatic event that must be the cause, but she is also aware that she is not strong enough to face it all at once. It is this lacking of the memory of her earlier life, and where she truly came from that denies her the inner peace she so desperately wants, thus she tries to face the frightening memories in little pieces at a time, though none of the memory she has regained fit together yet. Since what little memory she has of the event, and things prior are so incoherent and fragmented she often denies that she remembers it at all, mostly because each do not yet occupy a whole thought, and are virtually impossible to communicate.

Terra also governs herself strongly by a code of honour and morals, which lend themselves to her views. She has clearly defined four groups in her mind, Warriors, Soldiers, Combatants, and Civilians. To her warriors are not different from herself, they follow a code of honour and morals, and fight for what they believe is true and just, even refusing to follow orders if they violate the beliefs they fight for. Soldiers are mindless beings only doing what they are ordered to, and will slay innocents despite morals or justice. Terra has a strong distaste towards soldiers, and it is clear in her tone. Combatants are civilians that take up arms against, or otherwise attack her, or those she fights with. She will do everything possible, short of allowing herself or her fellow fighters to be harmed, to defeat combatants without killing them or causing them serious injury. Civilians in her mind are innocents, and will not knowingly harm them in a battle, and will when possible protect them from it.

Magic/Special Skill:

Terra can temporarily displace objects, however 'Displacing' objects is mentally taxing, and can not do damage directly as the change in objects location does not exert any force. But the object can be used to do damage. Once the focus needed to use this ability is lost the object will return to its original position, so she can not use it to drop or throw objects either. The mass of the object also has a great effect on the effort required to displace it. Her Moonblade is as large an object on which she can use this ability, and even then the level of concentration she would need to maintain the effect leaves little of her attention span to wield the weapon. Many times she can only hold this level of concentration long enough to swing the sword once, without any attempt at accuracy.


Fighting Style:

Terra is a strong offensive fighter, with good instincts, more suited to large battles on the open field of battle. Despite this she takes a more reactive posture, allowing her opponent to make the first move. She will focus, and closely observe her opponent(s), looking for any sign of her opponent's next act, such as a change of footing, a slight twitch, or an adjustment of ones grip on a weapon. Her observations and quick reflexes allow her to react very quickly in most situations, and also easily spot her opponents weakness.

Her fighting style greatly draws from an understanding of forces in movement, using her speed, agility, and the momentum of her body, together with the strength and momentum of her opponent(s) to compensate for not being particularly strong. Terra uses her energy as efficiently as possible, allowing her attack, blocks and movements to follow a smooth, graceful, steady, natural flow, with each action often having no observable beginning or ending. Her attacks with her Moonblade are primarily cuts and slashes, where as she favours stabbing and thrusting attacks with smaller knives such as her Twins, and a combination of the two with her long dagger. Her block are not so much meant to stop an attackers weapon, as to deflect them away from her in a manor that requires little energy, and at times can seem effortless though this is rarely true. Her actions appear to combine into a single unbroken movement whenever she dominates a battle, as once she begins gaining momentum it gets harder to throw her of balance. When on foot, Terra usually moves through the battlefield in natural circular, elliptical or arc patterns, having a smooth, graceful appearance.

She will some times use her body in brute force techniques, but only on a limited basis. These attacks can vary widely depending on the situation at hand, but are mostly aimed at knocking an opponent from his or her feet. They are untrained though largely effective when used, although such hits would be inexorable by all but her strongest opponents, she risks injury, and most of the time becomes incapacitated herself for a short time, though rarely longer than her opponents.

She is precise and vary efficient in they way she conducts herself in combat, making her a dangerous opponent to any who would come to oppose her. Though she will never admit it, Terra has raised her fighting style to a spiritual art form that requires her to maintain a strong inner sense of her self, as it is through knowing herself and her limits that she is able to perform so proficiently in the field of combat.

Possessions:

Horse ("Coore") with Tackle, Saddle, and Saddle Bags.

Travelling Pack

Attractive White Gown

Hooded Cloak -Lost in Strata

2 Tailored one piece layered leather/chain mail Armour Suits.
{Terra's armour is unique in the way it is made. It consists of an inner layer of soft leather, a light chain mail layer, and a light but flexible outer layer of protective leather. These three layers are attached together in a form that fits tight to her body and moves easily with her.

The inner most layer of leather covers her whole body, and serves to separate the chain mail from her skin, and provides almost no protection. The chain mail layer also covers her whole body, and provides the bulk of the protection, while still being vary flexible, but is made to be light, so it damages easier than normal chain mail. The outer most leather layer rounds out her protection. It covers most of her body, except for around her joints where she favours the flexibility of the mail over the protection of the leather, and protects all but the exposed mail from lighter hits, allowing the mail to more effectively stop stronger hits over time.

She has two suits of this armour, one of brown leather, the other of leather dyed red as fresh blood.}

2 Pairs of Thin Metal Armlets.

2 Pairs Leather Boots.
{I think the pattern should have dawned on you by now.
But in case it did not, one pair is brown leather, the other is dyed the colour of blood.}

Sword ('Moonblade').
{Sword made with the finest craftsmanship. Light, strong, and vary deadly in the hands of a disciplined and skilled swords person, and Terra's most cherished possession.}

Dagger.
{One weapon she carries concealed in rough areas to fall back on should she be disarmed, or in a situation where her Moonblade is ineffective (EX. Close courters combat.).}

2 Boot Knives ('Twins'). -One lost in Strata
{The only item from her home she carries, are the two boot knives the Sophronians call "Twins". These she always carries, she will fall back on these in situations where access to these are easier than her dagger, or sword.}

A simple coin purse.
{Her coin purse contains three pebble sized sapphires, two Silverbard, and seventy five San.}


History:

Terra was born in the city of Sophronia, much loved by her parents. Her father Morris, was a knight, who rose up from a mere city guard (Little more than a beat cop.), to become Lieutenant of the Sophronian Guards, through his deeds of justice, honour, and bravery beyond the call of his duty. Terra's mother, Miranda also lent to warrior influences, as she was an honourable mercenary, whose men (Of all major races.), often work quietly with the Sophronian Guard. Both parents were born and raised Sophronians, though the traditions of old had become only loosely follow in the times since the kingdoms of old had united into the United Kingdom of Santharia, allowing different peoples to move freely to other places if they wished.

When Terra was born, her mother stayed home to care of her child, having left her mercenary band safely in the hands of one of her most trusted men in her absence. Miranda and Morris had managed to buy a small house in the city, where Terra started her life. It was not much, but it was a cozey little place to live and raise a child. It only had a few rooms, and was small enough that the fireplace in the common room, also used for cooking, could keep it warm with a low fire when nights got cold. Off the common room there were two other rooms, one shared by Terra's parents the other would become her room when she had grown, if only for a short time.

Terra was quiet and respectful, even as a new born, before such ideas could be instilled in her. Rarely did she make a fuss without good reason, or waking her parents in the middle of the night. As her personality developed, it was quickly noticeable that she was feisty and spirited like her mother. From both parents she learned right from wrong vary quickly for a young child, and with far less effort from her parent than other children needed from theirs. This sense of right and wrong together with her feisty and spirited nature, she would often protect other children around her age from others that would do wrong against them, though she really had no interest in fighting. Terra grew to be her own person vary quickly indeed.

Terra was still young when her mother died in a battle, and her father focused on his duties to cope with the pain of his loss. He left Terra in the care of her god parents, Aldas and Anture, but he was always there for her when she needed him. Aldas and Anture, were Sophronian Guards as well, and had a daughter of their own, Aeshey, who was some years older than Terra. Aeshey aspired to become a Sopronian Guard like her parents. Despite the difference in years, view point, and not being related by blood, Terra and Aeshley bonded vary closely with each other, considering each to other to be real sisters.

Morris also spent some of his free time teaching Terra to read and write, as his father had taught him. It was their special time together and neither reacted well when they were interrupted. They cherished ever moment together no matter how frustrated Morris got when Terra just could not seem to get something right. Their time always ended in good cheer, with them laughing, and the frustrations of the lessons and their life being cast into the void. That is not to say these lessons always started with the same cheer, and love of life, it was these times, when Terra and her father were together when she would talk about her worst troubles, things that she could not even talk to her sister about, no matter how close they were, or how open. There were some things only an elder could be trusted with, and as much as she cared for her god parents, the only elder Terra felt she could truly trust to understand was her father, after all she was of his blood.

When Aeshey was training with the Sophronian Guards, Terra was always a moral grounding for her, and was always there to lend her ear when Aeshey just needed someone to talk to. Terra often expressed her view that fighting should never be about blood, or death, but should be about defending what is believed to be moral and right, and to protect life from those that would seek its end. They did have their arguments about their views, and despite how heated these became, that always felt the better for having the argument, and more understanding than the few times they let things between them fester.

Despite being bombarded with warrior influences Terra didn't have any interest in being a warrior of any kind, or even taking up a weapon. Instead had a profound interest in nature, and a love for all life. When she was old enough to go out on her own, she would tag along with the guides from the city, learning how best to travel, how to spot danger in the woods on the few occasions when they ventured that far, what plants would heal or kill, and the only blade she would take up is a small knife for harvesting what was needed from such plants. She was always in awe at the beauty, and balance of nature. No creature taking more than it needs from any other.

When she was eighteen she was given a beautiful Moonblade that had been given to her mother, and had never been used. Her mother though it too beautiful a weapon to bloody. This was the first time when she was willing to take up a weapon, out of curiosity she asked her god parents to teach her, but flatly refused formal training, and so they taught her reluctantly. Aeshey, being well into her training by this time, objected quite vocally to her parents teaching Terra, and often exclaimed that if Terra wished to learn the blade, she should be formally trained, but Anture took her daughter aside and explained her reasons for allowing this. Though Aeshey seemed to understand her parent's decision, the subject remained strained.

Early in her lessons Terra found that the traditional methods, thrusts, slashes, cuts, seemed clumsy to the blade, and the strength she would put into such moves was wasted fighting against the smooth steady motion of the blade. Terra knew that the blade was not of the land she knew, and that the secrets of the blade were to be discovered in another land. These secrets gave her a purpose to which she dedicated herself too, and the focus of her curiosity shifted toward preparing for the quest to find the answers to her questions. She spent the next few years learning swordsmanship from her god parents, and some from her father with renewed purpose. She even approached her excursions into the woods differently; there purpose was no longer curiosity, but to learn to travel swiftly, efficiently, and safely. Between the two she also found time to visit weapons-smiths in the city, they often knew of the weapons of different and distant lands. Most had only heard of such a blade as a vague rumour, and had no useful information on its origin. One however knew of the Kar'ii and a man in a city to the north that could tell her more, and offered what he knew freely never believing the young woman would go in search of them.

On Terra's twentieth birthday she said her goodbyes to her god parents and sister, it was then her god mother gave her a pair of boot knives known as "Twins". Terra then went to her father before she left, for what was to be a long time and maybe even the last time. They sat to talk for a long time as they some times would when something troubled her. She told him that she must leave to find her own way, but that he should not worry about her as she had learned how to identify danger, and how to defend herself if she needed to. She said to him that she had mysteries she must solve, things she wished to know and learn, and that one day she may return with knowledge and wisdom that would make her a better person. She left that night with her fathers blessing, and a modestly rich purse her mother had saved up for just such an occasion, should Terra be like her, or for when Terra married, heading north to the city of New Santhala, to seek the man that could tell her more.

Terra made her way New Santhala, and spent the remainder it the day looking for that man the weapons smith in Sophronia had told her about, but at failing light decided to get a room at a local in and continue her search in the morning. It was not till nearly a month after Terra had left her home that she found the man she had been looking for. He was old, lived alone, and glad that a young lady like Terra would bother to visit him. He talked eagerly, even about such things as the Kar'ii, as he rarely had anyone to talk to anymore, and told her all she needed to know to find her way to the people she set out to find. In the end Terra stayed with the old man, and kept him company till he passed away silently in the night. It came as a bit of a shock to Terra as it seemed as old as the man was that he had a few years left in him, he still seemed quite able to care for himself, and cooked the most wonderful stews. Terra had enjoyed scribing letters for the old man to family in other towns, listening to his stories about adventures that may or may not have been true, and laughing at his jokes not unlike the ones her father would have told in there special time, so it was with a vary heavy heart that she wrote one last letter to his family telling them of his passing. When members of his family arrived to settle his affairs Terra left for Carmalad, and from there her journey would continue by sea to the frozen island of Guldor.

Terra, after a long voyage across the vast expanse of water between Carbrand and the shores of Guldor, on a smugglers ship that reeked of rot and hardly sea worthy for such a trip, finally arrived at the island of Guldor; a year after her god sister had arrived. Terra handed the man the final purse she had promised them for passage, and departed the ship, with a heavy cloak wrapped tight around her making the cold just barely tolerable. It was obvious the men that brought her here did not care if she lived or died, only that they received the small fortune she had promised them for passage. It was not more than a few moments after Terra stepped off the ship, if it could even be called such, a group of men appeared out of the icy waste, she spotted a single wagon with six barely discernible forms in it, then as if out of no where two more forms appeared.

As they approached, Terra could make out more detail, the edge of their white garb becoming clearer as she squinted out at them. The two figures on foot seemed to be watching the land around them, but their attention at each pass caught on her for a moment, then continued their scan of the land. One quickened his past, making his way out ahead of the wagon to confront the strange woman in their land. As he drew near, she could see that the figure was wearing tight clothing that was pure white, and some type of a tight mask over his face, it was not till the figure came to a distant speaking distance that she could tell it was a man.

The man spoke clearly through his mask, though he kept his distance. The disdain at the stranger in his land was clear on his voice as he asked what she was doing in his peoples land. Terra let her cloak open just enough so that she could draw her sword just enough so he could see, then replied that she was looking for the people that forge such a blade, that she was told that they were called the Kasumarii, and were said to live on this island. By the time Terra had replied the other figure had come up beside the first, they looked to each other questioningly for a moment then seemed to have made a decision silently between them, any further questions were best left for the village leaders to ask. The first figure beckoned her to follow him and told her gruffly to stay close. As he passed the wagon, now loaded with goods the smugglers had brought, he grabbed a heavy white hooded cloak and through it roughly across her shoulders, Terra said "Thank You" but doubted it would change his mood, as it seemed quite clear that he was not happy she was there.

They had travelled for some time over the frozen rolling hills. Terra was beginning to feel numb from the cold, and walked with her head down to protect her face from the icy breeze. The cloak she was given helped a bit, but her boots seemed to draw the cold up from the ice and snow. She watched as wisps of snow swirled around the edges of the tracks she followed left by the man in front of her, the woman followed after her. Terra could almost feel the woman's gaze on her back, it had been obvious neither trusted her, Terra figured they had little reason to.

When Terra looked up briefly enough to see if the man was still there, as she had done many times during the journey, she could tell something was not right. The man had two long daggers in his hands, though he did not seem to slow, it seemed obvious that danger was about. Terra directed her limited view from the deep hood up further, one hand on her swords hilt, the other holding the cloak closed. It was then that she first saw why he had taken such action, there were bodies, at first a few, then as her gaze swept up to see many more, human, and what she could only imagine from stories she was told as a child were orcs. For a brief moment she considered the thought of orcs and that she had thought them only things of stories, but that moment quickly passed and the realization of what she was seeing hit her.

Terra had never truly seen death other than the old man who had told her about this place, but that was different, he was old, it was his time to die, and it was nature that took him. Terra was fully aware that people sometimes killed other people, she had never faced it first hand, but she knew of it. Thoughts began to flood into her head; she had never seen death at the hand of a weapon, and had been fortunate to not have to use hers against another. She could not conceive of how such butchery was possible, or what could have caused it. So many were dead of hideous wounds, Terra could not conceive that they would do such things to each other. Terra simply followed in shock, the wave of horrible thoughts in her head beginning to cause cracks in her mind, thoughts stopped making any sense and blurred together.

They came to a patch of land where to bulk of the bodies' lay, with a lone figure kneeling in the middle, an arm across its abdomen. The man Terra had been following approached the figure, and the figure, a woman looked up at him, as a fellow Echiilianni, and told him with pride in her weak voice that she had killed the last orc. It was then that she finally succumbed to her wound and died, falling on her side in a limp heap. It was the dead woman's chilling words that add the last bit of pressure to Terra's already fragile mind causing the numerous cracks to give way, shattering her mind with the weight of that she did not want to know, that she did not wish to see, that which she wish she never heard. At that moment, the moment her mind shattered, she ceased to be sentient, there was nothing. She was but an empty shell, with only a few rudimentary fragments, her spirit still unbroken but shaken, and the singular goal of leaning about the sword at her hip were all that remained.

Terra fell to her knees, only still conscious of the world in the most rudimentary way, it existed, but without a mind to perceive it the world was shapeless and intangible. The two Kasumarii having failed to prompt her to walk resorted to dragging her along until she became aware of her form in existence and the action called walking. With more time their actions guided her to awareness of them in existence and the action called following. As the three continue the journey to the Kasumarii village Terra’s awareness grew slowly, becoming aware of things as she was exposed to them or as her awareness grew enough to perceive them. Things taken for granted by many, first simple thing like up from down, such things led her to concepts of ground and sky, and even the sensation of cold and sense of sound entered her perception, though the exact nature of these things still remained shapeless to her.

Terra still followed only mindlessly between the two when they entered the village. By the time Terra was led into the village she was able to percieve the animal hide tents and the beings moving among them. She followed the two to the center of the village where a single tent larger than the others around it was set up, then the woman the tent, the man behind her having to grab her shoulder to prevent her from mindlessly following.

Muffled sounds, voices could be heared from within before the woman emerged from tent and beconed that Terra be brought inside.

She eventually found the people who made the Moonblade, the Kasumarii, and later the man who had given it to her mother. The man was now vary old, vary wise, and had become vary respected as an elder Nightson.

He took her in, answered her questions, and saw she got the training she sought in the correct use of the sword. Those who would train her were reluctant, and even offered short lived protest to training the tormented and broken young woman, but relented to there respect for the elder. Some became less reluctant when they saw how quickly she learned the Moonblade with natural ease. Her training was not easy however, her trainers pushed her hard. Some wanting to see her fail and prove to the elder that this outsider was not up to the task, others thought they could bend her to their vision, but both soon found their wants would not be fulfilled through her.

Other pupils also became jealous of how quickly she learned the blade. They wanted to do something about her, but they viewed her as a crazy woman, and had heard rumour that crazy woman can kill without warning, or provocation, for reasons of no ones understanding, and with unnatural speed and strength. This stayed them from making plans to move against her at least for a while.

The old man became a friend and second mentor, after her father, who she had not seen since she left.

Among these people she eventually was given the nickname of Blood Dragon, for her tendency to draw blood during training, and for the furious way she would train, and yet be in complete control of herself. She stayed for a short time after she had mastered the skills, but soon her spirit pulled her away again. After she said good bye to her friend, she resumed her journeys.

Journeys that eventually lead her to the present, to discover more mysteries, and horrors.

'I am grey. All but those like me see only darkness and light, they do not see the grey between them. In this greyness I dwell. I would not wish this fate on any other.'

[Thaedras]

Here is My CD. w00t!


Name – Thaedras Ju’Rayle

Gender - Male

Age – 34

Race – Human

Tribe – Zhunite man

Occupation – Ship captain.

Title – Captain of The Maiden

Overview – Thaedras is the captain of the Pirate ship, The Water Maiden. He is also a water mage of some skill. He is always seen with his haloen bird, Lia on his shoulder. He is a charismatic man who enjoys adventure, the sea, and above all, women.

Physical Appearance – Thaedras is 1.82 peds tall and weighs about 1.74 Pygges. His skin is tanned due to years at sea, with very faint scars along his arms, back and legs. He got these scars when his father’s ship collapsed, and the debris cut into him fairly well. His muscles are toned, but he is not overly muscular. His nor’sidian (black) hair is long and pulled back into a ponytail, except on windy days, when he lets it loose, so that it might whip back and forth. His eye is a rich uderza (blue), and it is always filled with a sense of adventure. His rough, seemingly perpetual unshaven face is not care worn, but shows the face of a man who is always ready to deal with the hand life dealt him.

Thaedras is missing his left eye, so it is perpetually covered by a nor’sidian eye-patch. He makes no attempt to hide this, and when he is drunk, he may even lift the patch, and give his fellows a grotesque wink.

Clothes – Thaedras wears a loose, cyhalloian snow (white) shirt, and charcoal pants. On his feet he wears nor’sidian boots. He always wears a karikrimson (red) sash about his waist. He also has numerous pouches attached to his sash, which contain his spell reagents. He wears a nor’sidian eye patch over his left eye. He also wears a ring on his left finger at all times. It is made of gold, with a sapphire in the shape of a drop of water in it.

Personality – Thaedras is, above all else, charming. He makes it a point to be polite to everyone, and always seems full of life. Thus, Thaedras Is very well liked among his crew. He is also quite popular with anyone else he might meet. He is just one of those people who are instantly likeable.

Despite spending years at sea, Thaedras has never picked up the accent or dialect that is common amongst most sailors. This always gives him an air of sophistication. Nobody doubts that he is a well educated man.

Thaedras has a strong sense of adventure. It is his adventurous nature that drives his life. Thaedras has stolen enough money and goods to live in safety and luxury for the rest of his life, but he would much rather be at sea, with the wind in his hair, and the spray of the ocean in his face.

His sense of adventure also causes Thaedras to be extremely reckless at times. He gets crazy ideas in his head that he thinks might work, so he just goes for it. He does not weigh the risks. If he thinks he can do it successfully, then he will do it.

Thaedras loves women. Scratch that. Thaedras loves women A LOT. He loves to flirt with women, to dance with women, and to do anything else you can do with women. He makes it a point to be as polite as humanly possible to any and all females. Any rudeness shown towards women while Thaedras is in the room will be met with hostility.

Strengths
Magic – Thaedras has trained for many years at the academy in Ximax in water magic. He is fairly talented in his area of expertise. He can cast a few spells without any difficulty at all.

Agile – Thaedras is very acrobatic. He can climb the rope ladders of the ship with much ease. He can swing from ropes with exceptional skill, and he can balance on the mast’s posts quite well. He knows the working of his ship, and can move about it with amazing agility and balance. Anywhere else this of course does not work nearly as well, what with his missing eye.

Charisma – Through many years of practice, Thaedras knows how to make people like him. He has always been naturally likeable, but he has perfected his natural talents into an art. He makes it a point to keep on everyone’s (with the notable exception of the authority’s) good side. He is fun-loving, and enjoys nothing more then a good party

Knowledge of the Seas – Thaedras has spent many years at sea, and thus, knows the all the tricks of his trade. He can travel with nothing but the stars. He knows when a storm is going to appear. He knows when the tide comes in and out and when the winds change. He uses all this to his advantage when sailing.

The Water Maiden – Thaedras has The Water Maiden, as well as all the crew and The Maiden’s resources, at his disposal. This makes him a force to be reckoned with, if nothing else does.

Weaknesses
Missing Left eye – Thaedras lost his left eye when his father’s ship was destroyed. He is (obviously) blind on his left side, making it extremely easy for someone to sneak up on him, or for him to miss something with his limited field of vision.

Love for Women – Thaedras has a weakness for a pretty face. He loves women above everything else. This, however, can be detrimental. Any woman can easily seduce him. He is easily fooled by a sweet smile on a pretty face. Needless to say this has gotten him in trouble many times.

Fugitive – The authorities of many port cities would pay very dearly to have Thaedras and his crew arrested for piracy. Thaedras must always be on the lookout for someone who might turn him in. Therefore he rarely uses his real name when out in public.

Reckless – Thaedras is beyond reckless, in his spell casting, his acrobatics, his control of the ship, and every other aspect of his life. He does not consider the odds of getting out of a situation alive; he merely gets an idea and goes for it. The fact that he hasn’t died yet is a tribute to his luck, his skill, or a combination of both.

Water Dependance - Due to Thaedras' love of the sea, he becomes extremely anxious whenever he is away from it. He can't concentrate, and thus his spells are harder to cast. Since he is a water mage, his spells work better near water, so he is severely weakened when away from his calling and affinity.

Show off - Thaedras has utmost confidence in himself, thus, to make peoples (namely women) opinion of him higher, he tends to show off his skills. This can turn out very badly, for some people like to show show-offs the quick way to the end of a fist. He also sometimes uses his magic to show off, which leaves him extremely drained.

Combat - Being a fairly successful pirate, one would expect Thaedras to have picked up some basic comba skills. He has not. He must defend himself with only his magic, and if that fails or he is too tired, then he is in alot of trouble.

Weapons – The only weapons Thaedras has is The Maiden and it’s crew, as well as his magic.

Belongings – Besides all the resources and loot in The Maiden, was well as The Maiden itself, Thaedras also keeps a few things on his person at all times. He always has his pouches with his spell reagents tucked into his sash. He keeps money pouches tucked in his sash and boots (he always carries around a large sum of money.) He also always wears his ring, this being the only thing that shows who he is when he is going incognito. Only his crew knows he wears it.

Artifact - His ring. It is large and gold, with a sapphire shaped like a drop of water in it. The ring allows Thaedras to amplify his voice, so that he might direct battle without fear of not being heard, call to other ships out on the ocean (within a reasonable distance of course), or get attention in a loud room. It is triggered by waggling the finger with it twice, and it is deactivated by the same manuever.

The Ring was originally in the possession of Jarthain, Thaedras' adopted father. It was originally crafted by Shannarra, Jarthain's lover and a very talented, high-level wind-mage. It was given as a gift, before Shannara passed away some years ago. On his deathbed, Jarthain gave it to Thaedras, and then died.

Ship – The Water Maiden is Thaedras' pride and joy. It's very loyal crew was completely handpicked by Thaedras himself, and each member is well paid for their loyalty.

The Water maiden is a three masted schooner. It is very very fast for it's size and weight, but due to it's weight and size, it has very little maneuverability. Across the bow is the figure of a naked maiden, with tears coming from her eyes. The ship's flag is a single blue drop of water, with crossed cutlasses behind it, set against a black background. The words 'The Water Maiden', are etches on either side of the ship, near the stern.

The ship makes port in multiple areas. It most often makes port in Strata and the Scatter sand Shoals, but it also makes port in the Neytherrion Kaleman Amuneth, an island grouping of the south-eastern coast of Nybelmar, and in The Shan’Thai, Ordana, and Dion area of the continent of Aeruillin. Thaedras switches ports depending on level of activity, both merchant and authoritive.

It is a pirate ship, and thus has seen many battles. The main strategy used by The Maiden is fairly simple. Thaedras himself, with the aid of his ring, calls to the soon-to-be-looted ship, and demands surrender with the promise of mercy if cooperation occurs. If no surrender is offered, then Thaedras orders his men to attack. All his men are trained in archery, and the let loose volley after volley at the enemy ship, while Thaedras himself casts Wave against the enemy ship or along the enemy deck, to make the opposing archers have to concentrate on balancing, and slows the rate of return fire from the enemy. When the two ships are close enough, and enough of the enemy archers have been dealt with, the gangplanks are put between the two ships. The boarding crew (which consists of two thirds of the archers, with cutlasses) then goes across. Thaedras usually has lost too much energy at this time to be of much help, so he usually goes to the bridge and commands the rest of the battle from there.

Familiars - A Haloen bird named Lia. This bird was once the property of Jarthain, but the mutual grief felt by Thaedras’ and Lia produced a bond between the two, and now they are inseperable. Lia is always at Thaedras’ side, and should any harm come to her, he would be deeply grieved. Therefore he is careful that no harm comes to her.

Magic – Thaedras graduated at level four from Ximax. Thaedras has trained for years at the academy in Ximax, while there he learned of a number of spells, but only practiced five of them for an extended amount of time, thus he has become capable of casting a number of these spells at higher than fourth level.

Area of Frost - Thaedras can cast this spell at the sixth power level. - A rather unique spell, Area of Frost causes the water cár'áll in the air around the mage to shift, increasing in power and bending towards Earth. As a result, the temperature in the air goes down. The radius for Thaedras' level is 2.5 Peds, centered on Thaedras himself.

Frost Shield - This spell creates a shield of frozen ice to protect the mage from harm or to block off a corridor from advancing troops. The shield is a wall of cold, hard ice that the mage can create up to two fores in front of him. The thickness depends on the height and width.

Water Extraction - "Water Extraction" is a spell with the purpose of extracting the Water Element from the spell's target. Therefore the spell is most effective against targets which have Water as primary cár'áll.

Wave - Thaedras can cast this spell at sixth power level. - Wave is one of the primary water evocation spells, and was often used by mages during times of war to decimate entire armies. The higher the level of the spell when being cast, the larger and more force the wave has.

Freeze - Thaedras can cast this at fifth power level. - Freeze will transmutate the object or person into a statue of solid ice, rendering the target immobile and in the case of a person, in completely suspended animation.

Thaedras has little to no practice with any other spells, although he does have knowledge of most of the lower level water spells. He never attempts to cast them; for being out of practice, there is little chance he would be successful.

History – Thaedras was born at sea, a day’s travel off the coast of Nybelmar. It was a difficult delivery, and his mother did not survive it.

Thaedras spent his entire childhood at sea. His father was a fairly successful merchant, and sold his wares between the continent of Nybelmar and the city of Strata. When Thaedras was very young, his father hired a mage to help protect the ship against any would be pirates. His name was Jarthain, and for the most part he would keep to himself. Although, sometimes, he would watch Thaedras very carefully.

Thaedras enjoyed the water very much. He was a powerful swimmer, and spent any free time he had in the water. Jarthain recognized that this could possibly be due to the fact that Thaedras had an affinity towards water, which might mean he was talented in magic; namely water magic. Thaedras was in fact magically talented, but he did not know that. He just recognized the fact that everything was made of  “auras.” He did not know it, be he recognized the Car’all in all things.

One day, when Thaedras was about 10, Jarthain approached Thaedras and asked him a few questions. Thaedras told him about his ability to recognize Car’all (although he couldn’t put a name to it.) This confirmed what Jarthain already believed. This boy definitely had magical talent. Jarthain went to his father, and attempted to convince him to enroll Thaedras in the Ximaxian Academy as soon as Thaedras was old enough. Thaedras’ father flat out refused, wanting Thaedras to grow up to be a merchant. Disappointed, but not really having a say in the matter, Jarthain let it go.

About a year later, Thaedras’ Father’s ship was on its way to Strata from Nybelmar, when a storm hit. The entire ship was destroyed. During the collapse, debris hit Thaedras many times. He was cut up and down his body, although his face was spared, with the exception of his left eye, which was cut very badly. Thaedras managed to survive the initial collapse and sinking of the ship, and was floating with the help of debris, when Jarthain found him. Both had an affinity for water, thus both could swim fairly well. So they survived the suction created by a sinking ship. Sadly, there were no other survivors. Luckily they were very close to shore, and (bother being powerful swimmers) made it there in a few hours time.

The two traveled to Strata. When they got there, half-starved and tired, the contacted one of Thaedras’ father’s clients. They informed him of the ships demise, and borrowed a large sum of money. The client knew the mage was trustworthy, for he had to deal with the mage on many occasions when Thaedras’ father had been alive.

Jarthain had taken a large interest in Thaedras over the years and decided to go against the boy’s father’s wishes, and enroll Thaedras in the Academy at Ximax.  Jarthain had been well paid to protect the destroyed ship (you have to love the irony), and had been sending most of this money to his lover, Shannara, whom he missed terribly. He used the borrowed money to travel to Ximax, and once he and Thaedras arrived, sent money with a trusted bearer back to the client who had helped them.

Thaedras lived with Jarthain for a year before he was old enough to enroll in the academy. Both being extremely fond of water, they often took long trips to the beach and spent massive amounts of time there. Thaedras also met Lia at this time, Jarthain's haloen bird who had been staying with Shannara while Jarthain was at sea.

When Thaedras was 12, he was enrolled in the academy of Ximax. He was accepted by recommendation from Jarthain and Jarthain also paid for his tuition. Thaedras immediately took an interest in Water magic, which he became quite adept at. He only practiced the spells he enjoyed however, never taking an interest in the others. But those spells he can cast, he can cast with a great amount of skill.

At age 27, Thaedras was called from classes to go see Jarthain in another part of the academy. Jarthain was dying. On his deathbed, Jarthain gave Thaedras his ring, and told him to follow his heart with the sea. The grief he felt was shared with the haloen bird, Lia, and that hardship was enough to create a bond between the two. They became inseparable. Thaedras left the academy, graduating at 4th level, and returned to the sea.

Besides the ring, Jarthain also left a large sum of money to Thaedras, which he used to book travel back to Strata, and buy a ship and hire a crew. Thaedras wanted to sail, to be a captain of his own ship. He deemed his ship The Water Maiden. It was a small caravel, which he used to ship goods between Strata and Nybelmar, much like his father did before him.

Then one day, his ship was attacked, and summarily destroyed by a pirate ship, which took Thaedras prisoner, recognizing that he was a mage and thought to put him to some use. The Captain, who never gave a name and merely referred to himself as ‘The Captain’, soon learned that Thaedras was more useful as a talker, and not as a mage. Thaedras would be the one to demand surrender; Thaedras was the one who would bargain the looted goods for money. The Captain soon learned to trust Thaedras. Thaedras used this to his advantage.

Thaedras was often sent to shore to bargain the price of goods that were stolen by his ship. After two years of doing this, Thaedras formed a plan in his head. He went ashore in Strata, with orders to bargain, but instead went to the authorities. He made a deal with them. If they would give him all the money in The Captain’s possession, Thaedras would betray The Captain. The plan went out successfully. The Captain and his crew were all arrested, and the ship was taken apart by authorities. True to their word, the law gave Thaedras all of the pirate money. Thaedras quickly put this to use, in a very ironic way.

Over the two years with The Captain, Thaedras had gained a love of the pirate life. He loved the excitement and danger of it. He used the money to buy a three masted schooner, which he dubbed, The Water Maiden, after his lost caravel. He used the remaining to hire a small crew to man his ship. He then started raiding ships. He started small, small ships that were obviously ill funded to hire guards, then as he and his crew got more skilled, he went for harder and harder targets.

Now he has become very talented in the selection of targets. His entire crew has been replaced with hand picked, highly skilled individuals. He will remain a threat to any and all merchant ships that travel in what is quickly being known as “The Maiden’s Triangle.”

The wind in my Hair, The spray of the ocean in my face.
I love Life at sea.

- Thaedras

[Illix]

Name: Illix Rosethorn

Gender: Female

Age: 24

Race: Human

Tribe: Caltharian

Occupation: Mercenary

Title: Crimson Mistress

Height: 1 Ped, 1 Fore, 2 Palmspans, 9 Nailsbreadths, 1 Grain

Weight: 1 Pygge, 1 Heb, 3 Ods, 4 Mut

Hair: Light Blond

Eyes: Blue

Body: She has a slender curved figure.

Clothes: Usually wears a dark red brimmed hat, a dark red
cloak, Razor gloves (See weapons), dark red pants, a black belt and a dark red shirt. Under her shirt she wears an armor vest.

Personality: Laid back and friendly. She does what she wants, when she wants and dislikes taking orders from others. She is very vocal of here opinions and her mouth can sometimes land her into trouble. Not a master of tact, so to speak.

Strengths: Very quick and agile, skilled with a variety of weapons and fighting techniques.

Weaknesses: Not very strong, can't take a powerful hit. Sometimes her mouth can get her into trouble.

History: Illix never knew her parents. Her mother and her father mysteriously disappeared after she was born. She was raised by a man named Darian Shortfang who claimed to have found her as a child. He was a strict parent who trained her in some forms of combat at an early age including a sword and a bladed fan. They lived in a small house in a forest near a small town.

Almost every night Illix had a nightmare, the same one. It was her parents, but she couldn't see their faces. There was flames everywhere, and they were screaming in pain. Looming over them was a huge shadow, a snake. A horrible snake, with huge fangs jutting down from it's upper jaw, dripping with black poison. It had no bottom jaw, and it struck her parents over and over. She would usually wake up every night and simply rest in her bed, sometimes finally reaching a calm dreamless sleep.

Despite this Illix was a happy, curious child who was always observing the world around her. She was never allowed to wander very far or for very long, however, and often dreamed what life must be like beyond the forest, as she was not permitted to go with Darian when he went to the market each month.

One day a strange man came to visit Darian while Illix was in bed. She couldn't sleep and decided to listen in on their conversation. Darian kept refering to him as Lord... Something... the stranger seemed quite upset at Darian for some reason. She couldn't exactly hear all of what they were saying but she heard a loud crack like an object striking something followed by a shout of pain. She quickly got under her covers and layed there until morning.

The next day Darian began to train her much harder. He showed her how to throw knives and weild Razor claws. He was much harder on her now, even beating her for making a simple mistake. She noticed that he had his face partially covered by a cloth bandage.

A few months of this continued before she decided to run away. She snuck out of the house with her armor, her sword, her razor gloves, her knives and some food, water and money. She ran all through that night and most of the next day untill she came to town. She spent her money on a room at the inn, but soon she was running low on money and had to leave. On her second night sleeping on the street she met someone. He was a young man a bit older than her named Leon. When Illex first saw him she thought he was a thief but he wasn't. He had seen Illix earlier that day and wanted to offer her a job. Illix eagerly accepted and agreed to come with him.

They arrived at a dingy building in a back alley of the city. Leon took her upstairs where there were some other girls a bit older than her. He told her that she could stay there for as long as she wanted, He'd just take the money from her wages. He then left her in her room to sleep.

Illix awoke the next day. She got dressed and went downstairs. She asked the other girls to help her learn how to perform her job well and learned quickly. As the evening came Leon gave her her work outfit and told her to get changed. She complied and changed upstairs in her room. as she came down the other girls showed her where she should wait until her turn came. Finally Leon called out her name and she stepped onstage. She began doing what the other girls had showed her, dancing across the stage. She hated what she had to do next, so she was trying to keep the dance going on as long as possible. The crowd was becoming restless and Leon was telling her to hurry up. Finally she stopped dancing and reached for her top. The crowd began to urge her on. She seemed to remain there forever before she ran off the stage crying.

After the other girls finished Leon went upstairs to see Illix, but when he went into her room he only found an open window.

Illix was still crying as she walked down the street. Suddenly someone knocked her down. As she got up she saw it was an old woman. She asked her what was wrong as a man came running up to her. The woman explained to Illix that he was trying to rob her. Suddenly the man pulled out a dagger and charged at them. Illix drew her bladed fan in a split second and knocked the knife from his hand as she dodged the strike. She then used her other hand to draw her sword and slash the back of the robber's leg crippling him. She sheathed her weapons and asked the woman if she was okay. The woman said she was okay, then offered Illix a few gold coins, then left. Illix held the small bag of coins and realised what she could do for a living.

Weapons: A sword, Two daggers kept in her boots, four more on her belt, and a bladed fan. She also has a pair of gloves that have Razor Claws attached to them. The actual Razor blades can retract and are extracted with a flick of her wrist.

Here I go, playing the Hero again...

[Rheine]

Name: Rheine

Race: Human

Sex: Female

Age: 20

Hair: Shoulder-length; red in colour

Eyes: Dark brown

Height: ~1.56 peds

Weight: 104 ods

City of Birth: Marcogg

Tribe: Erpheronian/Stratanian

Occupation: Rheine is a very poor girl and is thus reduced into many low-class means of making money. Her primary occupation is as a streetwalking prostitute.

Title: Drifter (Female Human)


Detailed Appearance:
Rheine is a strikingly beautiful woman, bearing a curvaceous body and soft features. She possesses an innocent, ye very seductive face, large brown eyes oft hidden beneath a dark layer of black eyeshadow. Her face lays hidden by her straggly, unkempt crimson-red hair, which often completely covers her right eye, and sometimes a portion of her left.

Her eyes are rather large and expressive, and are often curved seductively, and can entrance men into being caught staring into their gaze. Dark windows to her soul, Rheine tends to wear a dark shade of black eyeliner to further deepen the appearance of her eyes.

Enveloping the eyes is a soft, slightly tanned skin; delicate and smooth. Her flesh represents a naivity yet also represents a very attractive young woman, and she bears soft, mildly sized lips, toned only slightly darker than the rest of the skin around them.
Framing it all is her fiery and uncontrolled red hair. Her hair is soft yet crisp; tangled and curled, though she strives to keep it as straight as possible--rarely succeeding. Her hair further hides the beautiful yet stressed face beneath, much of the straggly hair serving as a cloak for her eyes, which adds to their seductiveness.

Rheine is short, though her shapely body gives insight to a physically matured young woman, bearing attractive hips, long and slender legs, a slim waist, and a relatively well-endowed chest. Her slightly tanned skin was soft and delicate, yet at times muddled with dirt and grime--a sad result of living in poor conditions. Rheine always tries to carry herself with a strong, fiery stance, though can easily be reduced to a frail, weak woman, shoulders slumped forwards and body moving sluggishly as she finds life to difficult to bear.

She has several small white scars on her wrists, the result of despairing self-mutilation.

Rheine's outfit and a general picture of her appearance can be found the following link. Her shirt is of a dark navy blue colour (and the back portion is mostly bare and open), and the baggy part of the pants a dark maroon. The boots would be of a leather-brown colour. She also tends to wear a black hooded cloak when travelling and in bad weather, though it isn't shown in the picture:
www.mosentha.com/images/rheineimages/rheine_santharia.gif      

Personality:
Rheine is an emotionally scarred young girl, hiding her woes and pains behind a wall of false emotions and feelings--indulgement, lust, trust, and hate.

Rheine has been living on the streets, told that she is worthless and unimportant and regarded as no higher than dirt for her entire life, which has caused her to develop an inferiority complex--that is, she feels very low self-esteem, lack of worth, and often places the blame for events not even relating to her on herself. She hates herself for her own failings (even if imagined), and hates many around her out of jealousy for their well-to-do lives (even if they are not, for in her mind, everyone is better than her. This has caused her to develop a false superiority complex, in order to try and be more powerful than the dirt she believes she is--prejudice. She is openly racist, loudly and rudely degrading anything that is not human. Through this, she gains a feeling of self-worth, for the suffering of others, the case fact that there are people (races other than human) of who she is naturally superior to. In terms of magic users as well, Rheine views them them as freaks, defilements, and cursed monsters, out of her own need to feel better than them, and out of her jealousy of the powers they possess.

Rheine also hates small children, envious of their laughter and play--happiness she never had herself as a child.

Rheine appears on a first glance to be very fiery, prejudicing, and rude. Through the fire of her spirit she attempts to become as powerful as the people who hurt her, to relish in the flames of their suffering and her own false elevation. Rheine exerts her strength and individualism, but when confronted it takes only little before she breaks down and runs out of that zealous flame. Still, she is a strong woman, for breaking out of the female mentality of being subservient to men is one not every woman can do, especially standing up to stronger men to defend her beliefs and rights.

Rheine often drinks and uses mood-lifting drugs--to find self-worth, and escape. Rheine will drink to the point of being drunk, drowning her sorrows in liquor, and hiding her own feelings, hate, and sorrow behind a screen of emotion-lifting drugs and plant intoxication. She tends to use these very often, making periods without very taxing upon herself, for she fears the loneliness and to actually have to deal with her problems directly.

Rheine will always try and attach herself to people, even to the point of a loving relationship, just to have someone who will care for her, treat her well, and just as someone to hold tight onto. Due to this constant desire to love and be loved, she sells herself as a prostitute not only for the money but for the sexual pleasure and closeness she derives from it. Engaging in her primal ecstasies allows her to temporarily escape from the loneliness of her life in the comforting arms of another man, even if it is only for his sexual pleasure and amusement. She is like her mother in that she falsely places her love in another man and believes that everything that comes from him is love in return, and that it is her fault when she is hurt because of it, not his.

Despite this, Rheine is very fiery and individualistic. She will not falter in standing up for her rights and her beliefs, and making sure everyone around her sees her as tough and able to take care of herself. While she desires the compassion, sympathy, and care of others, she doesn't want others to see her as weak. She is pretty much a bully and a punk. It makes her feel better about herself when others are hurt because of her insults, because they are in worse conditions than herself, and she is able to exert dominance over them, instead of them over her.

To summarize the above, Rheine is simply, a drifter. She latches on to anyone who will make her feel better about herself, even if their opinions of her are only superficial. Indeed, a lot of the friends she has had in the past have actually hated her, but pretended to be her friend in order to get her in their bed. Rheine travels from group to group and person to person, always trying to fit in to where she can be loved and cared for. Always though, she is trying to exert her dominance over the people in the group. To make them see her as a strong woman, not a weak child. Which often serves to push them away, unfortunately.

Rheine's personality is demonstrated symbolically in her appearance. First, her eyeshadow--dark black, rimming dark brown eyes, a tint that she can see out of yet others cannot see in. Representing her fear of showing the real her, of hiding behind a dark lie.

Her hair, bright red, represents the ferocity and rebelliousness of her spirit that she exerts to try and fit in with people and be as strong as those who hurt her, to relish in the power that has been exerted over her. The hair falls over and covers her right eye and sometimes left eye, symbolizing how she uses that strength and ferocity to hide her soul.

She feels that she is cursed and will never lead a happy life, thoughts that further lead to her depression and anger. However, she still acts as only a child, and is thus very confused, unsure of where her life is and what she is doing with it. She is corrupted by the numerous amounts of drugs, sex, and 'living at the moment' things. Her mind is a mess, but amidst it all rests the small, hurt girl inside her, desperate to escape from the corruption that plagues Rheine's dark, scarred mind.

Religious Beliefs: Rheine does not believe in the 12 gods or Ava and Coor. She believes and fears that death is an entrance into nothingness--a dreamless sleep with no awakening. She is highly suicidal but this fear of post-death is enough to stay her hand.

Strengths:
Rheine has few areas that she truly excels in. She is scum and a low-life, and has thus been tempered with a life in the streets. She is light and lithe, and has very quick fingers, able to pickpocket, pick locks and steal with a minimal likelihood of being caught. Rheine has a very attractive appearance, and her biggest strength is her sexual appeal. She has the looks to get any man she wants, and she knows just how to work even many resistant ones around her fingers.

One of Rheine's strengths, though it could easily be turned around and called a weakness, is her fiery, individualistic and strong demeanor. She is not willing to back down for what she believes in, and she will always try and present herself as being strong and able to take care of herself (even when she really can't).

She possesses minor magical abilities, but cannot do anything major willingly--for this to occur she must be in a state of extreme emotional distress, where then the powers are designed to harness her physical prowess, making her wild and powerful like an animal, and uncontrolled.

Weaknesses:
On the other hand, Rheine is very weak, often distracted, a coward, and a scrambler. She is physically very weak, and fatigues easily. Though her physical tolerance is already at a low, her mental tolerance is even lower, she will back down and flee, lie, beg, or scramble in any way that she can to survive and suffer as little amount of pain as possible. This also counts for her ability at keeping secrets--she isn't good at it. Interrogation, torture and threats will quickly cause her to reveal everything, and she will betray a friend to prevent harm to herself or said companion, even if revealing the secret could in the long run prove far more disastrous. To expand, Rheine is not good at thinking ahead. She lives in the moment, and will act on her base emotions without any regard to what the consequences for her actions might be. She will scramble around when in danger, often having not taken the time earlier when in new areas to find places where she can escape should things prove messy. Her thoughts and mind become chaotic during perils, and she is a heavy pessimist, always fearing the worst and breaking down for what could, not certainly, happen. Figuratively and literally, Rheine often is found backing herself into corners in times of trouble.

In terms of education, Rheine has none. She was never brought up in school and never given any sort of education, and thus cannot read or write, and has little to no knowledge of history, lore, or how to survive in the wild--another weakness, which limits her to Marcogg alone for any hope to survive.

Rheine's stubbornness, temper, and racism also are often a problem, leading her into fights she cannot win and strained relationships amongst friends.

Rheine is also unwilling to kill. While she may often threaten people with violence and perhaps say she will kill them, she could never bring herself to do it. If she ever does, accidentally or after one of her rages (see below), she will become very emotionally traumatized, her willpower sapped and her mental reserves to be able to do anything left to being sluggish and slow, if she can be brought to doing anything at all.                

Special Abilities:
Rheine has a strong magical affinity, but is untrained and unable to focus or use these powers at will. At times in emotional duress, she may enter into an uncontrolled frenzy and be able to harness this magical ability, her body increasing in strength and toughness, like a wild animal, however, in this state she cannot be controlled, and could even harm those around her if she is deep enough into the rage. After such an exertion, Rheine becomes very weak, tired, and almost unable, or, more truthfully, unwilling, to support her own body-weight to walk for several days. (This exertion is pretty much an uncontrolled, potent version of the fire spell Boiling Blood)

Despite this however, this ability does not show it self often. The trauma must either be emotionally driven or she must be so sure she is about to die (and even that is not a sure thing) before she can actually enter into such a state. (In practical terms, the likelihood of this happening in one story is slim to none. If it does happen, likely never more than once in the course of one story. So this isn't a common ability, this is merely an explanation of the potential, even if it never does happen in a story)                

Fighting Style:
Rheine is not much of a fighter. While she'll put up a fight, the moment she takes any kind of damage (a knife wound, or a decent battering in a brawl), she'll quickly back down and try and flee, or get on her hands and knees and beg for her life, offering everything she has in return for mercy

If she enters into a rage, she will utilize her magic abilities through pure force of will (which in the end is all that magic is. Formulas, reagents, and so on are only used to help a user concentrate). She doesn't use established spells, and cannot use defensive or support magics at all. All the magic she uses is designed to inflict harm.

Possessions:
Rheine has few possessions, among them her clothing, a small curved dagger, a small pouch, and a small amount of money.

History:
Rheine was to be born into nobility. Her mother was a beautiful Stratanian woman, bearing dark red hair, tan complexion, and eyes that glittered silver as mithral steel. She was a noble, high class, well-established. A middle-class woman who married into the family line of an Erpheronian knight, an honourable warrior, and a great man. The future looked bright for the couple, who seemed to exude such an aura of love and compassion. It seemed that, should they have a child, this child would carry on the rich family name with great pride and honour—a lord of the noble’s house, a leader of the people, and a cunning warrior. The couple would be able to rest in happy serenity, buried in a tomb decorated and lavished with flowers and care.

Such a noble future never came.

It is not known how he really died. He lay in bed one final night, and never woke up again. The wife was devastated. She wept and wept for days, woeing the unnatural death with much sorrow and tear. In her anguish, she fled. Fled south. She didn’t know why. No one knew why. She desired to be away from the city of her husband’s death, to flee where the memories surfaced and the city coldly whispered.

Some say she went mad. The wife had left behind a mountain of treasure; a horde of fine possessions, eloquent artefacts and beautiful tapestries. Those were not her things. She hadn’t married into such a life. That was not her. Only he was her. But now he was gone. His treasures could return to dust, as his love had turned to dust.

It is not known just how long the wife wandered. Some months, or perhaps years later she wound up in Marcogg—oddly enough, the city of the rich, the onetime capitol of Avennoria, upon which she arrived with none of the great treasures of her husband.

She roamed the streets. She worked enough to survive, and survived enough to work. Her life was not what it once was. Her life would never be what it once was. She needed love. She needed a man. Someone to be with and love until her days had come.

It is not known how she met him. A thug. A scoundrel. A street-rat alcoholic. Yet she attached to him as a lover, endured his beatings with forgiveness, and gave birth to his daughter. He never accepted her. He never loved her, nor the daughter to follow. She was his play-thing, his punching bag—his property. So too was his new daughter.

This daughter was Rheine. The child who would have lived in wealth and in nobility, honourably carrying the proud name of her father and of her mother. Instead, she lived in poverty. Little food. Little money. No education. Abused, beaten, hurt and ignored. When she strived to find acceptance and care from her mother, she was responded to in silence. When she asked her father why he was beating her, he only beat her more.

The mother did try. At least in the beginning. She fought the father, and tried to reason with him. She tried to love her child and protect her from the evil of the father. She tried to explain to the child as blood ran from her nose and tears fell from her silver eyes that she would always be there for her, always stand by her, always be there to love and rescue her.

Eventually though, the rescues stopped coming. Eventually the mother sat in silence, and lay beaten in silence. She stopped trying to protect the child. No more rescues came when the father forced the child to the bed. No more rescues came when the child quivered and hid in the closet as the father roared through the house in a drunken fit. No rescue came when the child watched as the father finally beat the mother to death. There would be no more rescues, nevermore.

The child did not spend much time at home, considerably. Rheine fell in with other low-life children such as herself, small gangs and pranksters. From young ages Rheine was always falling into trouble with the law, participating in random childish acts of destruction with these ‘friends’.

As Rheine grew older, she spent more and more time away from the household. She learned to steal in order to provide herself with food. A quick swipe of an apple here or a piece of stiff bread there; after many run-ins with angry shopkeepers and guards the child finally began to make off with success. It even became somewhat of a game for her, and she’d often curse and spit at the shopkeepers as she ran off, laughing from making off with her prize.

However, living was always difficult, and she was forced to most everyday return home to her father, for he would beat her for her desertion should she spend multiple days and nights away from home. The beatings and abuse endured for many years as the child trudged through life. It was the age of 13 when Rheine could no longer take it anymore.

The fire consumed nearly a whole block before it had stopped. Peasants and townsfolk spoke in hushed whispers among themselves over the cause. Superstition and awe convinced many that the child of the man had somehow done it, for Rheine had been seen staring eerily at the structure as it burned to the ground, a darkness and hatred blazing in her eyes.

However, as the days and weeks went on, the fire without a cause was soon forgotten, stressful and poverty-stricken families going back to their daily economic and nutritional struggles. Rheine, however, seemed to start asserting herself more. Openly racist, quick to anger, flinging curse words and insults, the child quickly became involved with many more violent gangs of rebellious youths, where she was introduced to various mood-lifting plants such as simple vhin smokeweed and the hallucinogenic lofoforalt cactus skin. She actively made the authorities and adults in the east district aware of her obvious discontent towards them—thieving, burning, and beating, with a number of other social delinquents and youth criminals.

She fell into sexual relations with other youths, and soon began prostituting herself, needing money to pay for her rapidly increasing drug habits, as well as relishing in the comfort of her primal ecstasies.

Much of her seeming strength however came from her companions. Through numbers she felt protected and able to do whatever she wanted. They were not true friends, however, and she often only used them for the comfort of being around them and for sexual activities. As the years moved on however, the depressive tendencies and memories Rheine tried often to suppress began to assert themselves more vigilantly, and again she retreated into her shell. During this age she began to prostitute herself more often, walking the streets in search of clients to comfort herself with. She also several times contemplating suicide, and often came to cutting her wrists.

Rheine tended to frequent taverns and bars, both as an indoor outlet to offer herself and to begin her drinking habit. Eventually she was thrown out of several bars for often becoming sickeningly drunk and sometimes starting fights and brawls.

Her wrecked life was falling further and further into despair and isolation, and she often felt like she could not keep up with it all. She fell deeper into her drug addiction, to the point where it was becoming highly expensive to maintain it any longer. In addition, she was becoming a focal point of taunts and jests, the public’s common perception of her as a child of sin for her sexual practices was either a forcing her away from the public eye or to face discrimination. There even began to arise of disturbing allegations that she was a ‘witch’, many rumouring to her sexual practices, attitude, and even preposterous ideas of her summoning demons.

The worst of these allegations came from a nobleman whom desired a young woman for his bed than his old and ugly wife. Rheine took the job, of course, for it was often talked about among Rheine and other prostitutes that by a prostitute involving herself with nobles, it was a path to riches herself. However, rumours soon abounded among the common folk of having seen Rheine enter the man’s estate. In order to quell the rumours of his indulgement, the nobleman used his influence to place the blame on one of his servants. Having the servant discreetly killed and later ‘found dead’ in his chambers, the nobleman publically blamed the death as some sort of vile demonic ritual and act of sin.

The allegations of Rheine’s being a witch not unheard of among the populace, this final say almost completely proved it, and quickly the fact that the nobleman might have had sexual relations with a prostitute faded from view. Rheine however was suddenly the target of heavy discrimination. She was banned from all public buildings and avoided by most everyone, and, eventually, officially banished from the city under pain of death.

She stayed in the city for awhile longer, scurrying about in the sewers like a rat, along with other criminals, dredges, and washouts, but eventually she fled the city.

Though she was not good at travelling the wilderness, Rheine always found ways. She'd sneak along with merchant caravans, stealing food and so on and staying hidden as they travelled to other cities. Other times, she'd join up with gangs of raiders and so on, often as the gangs' wench in payment for travelling with them.

When stopped off in cities, Rheine could stay for a few days, or weeks, sometimes months, if she found it hard to stick with an old group or find a new one. When in a new city, she'd continue to steal and prostitute herself to survive, before moving along to a new city with an old or new group.

She's constantly drifted along like this ever since leaving Marcogg, trying to find some group or people she could fall in with. She's never really felt entirely belonging with any of the groups she's travelled with, and so continues to drift on, unsure of where her life is taking her, and not particularily caring anymore.

-----
"She wants to go home, but nobody's home
It's where she lies, broken inside,
With no place to go, no place to go
To dry her eyes, broken inside."
-Nobody's Home, Avril Lavigne

Edited by: Luca the Thief at: 11/15/05 2:19

[Lesalendral]

Name: Lesalendral

Gender: Female

Age: 157

Race: Elf

Tribe: Ylfferhim Elves

Occupation: Cleric of Grothar

Title: Peace Maker

Overview: Lesalendral is a smart women with a astonishing memory. She is also a great seemstress, and a gifted cleric of Grothar.

Physical appearance: Lesalendral is an even 2 peds in hight and weighs 1.5 pygge. She has white hair that falls to her waist. It is rare for her to wear her hair tied back, even on windy days. Her face would be a perfect replica of how people imagine an elf, fair skin, delicate features, etc. if not for her eyes. Her eyes are slightly bigger than most, and are lilac in color. And even when she laughs they are full of pain and sadness. Most people can't stand to look her in the eyes because they see in them the saddest moments of their lives. Anyways, Lesalendral is slim, but not too skinny. Nice curves, but nothing drastic. She has a tatoo of a cresent moon at the base of her throat. Its not too big.

Clothes: Nothing too fancy here. All she wears is a simple leaf green silk dress. It looks delicate and easily ruined, but she made it herself, it was made to take a lot of harsh use and not even fade. Her shoes are simple boots flat soles like sandles made of leather, go up to just below her knee, and they too are leaf green. The only real fancy thing is a solid silver belt shaped like a vine of ivy. It is thin and flexible, but tough. It belonged to her mother, who decided to pass it on to her when she started to travel.

Personality: Lesalendral is a very outgoing person. She makes friends easily, and is a good listener. She enjoys talking to people but loves to listen even more. She dislikes fighting, and trys to work things out peacfully if at all possible thus the name Peace Maker. But she is accually a fair marksman, for a mage. But she is also a gifted cleric mage. She is a creative women, and loves make up stories. But under her calm, playful, and carefree attitude is a lot of pain and sadness, though none of its her own. She never shares it with others. She promised her friends she wouldn't tell their dark secrets. But in her eyes it shows, and other see also their own sadness and pain reflected in those lilac eyes.

Clerical Magic: Her faith in Grothar is very strong. How strong is hard to measure, but her faith in herself is not quite as good. It is not very strong, it could use a lot of improvement. She uses her magic very often. In the past she has found that, while few of her prayers have failed to be answered, the ones she has the most exact answer to are ones for small things like lightning and wind, She is a full priest now, but chooses to travel rather then stay in a temple. Her apprenticeship started when she was 30 years old in the main temple of Grothar, in Carmalad. She finally became a full priest after she had spent 35 years in the temple, 18 as an apprentice and 17 more studying to be a priest.

Strengths: She is swift an her feet. And a fast thinker in tough situations. Her familiars are a definite strength, as well as her Clericial magic. She is fair with a bow, but rarely uses it.

Weaknesses: She is terrified of darkness. Her loyalty to her friends can get her into a lot of trouble, because she would do almost anything for them. Her love of peace can get her into trouble as well, because she will always try to work things out peacfully before resorting to fighting. Also, as I said earlier she has little faith in herself, and that effects her cleric magic. While her faith in Grothar is strong she is hesitant to pray for anything bigger than rain, lightning and wind. She thinks she will fail.

History: Lesalendral has a fairly good happy life living in Aer'ylferian. Her family is very rich. She has three brothers, Erien, who is 282, Inerit, who is 319, and Mesoro, who is 393. Her mother is named Lesa, she is 539, and her father is Jamedis, he is 542. Her mother was a seemstress and taught Lesalendral all about it. Lesalendral found she liked to sew because it gaver her hands something to do while she thought about things. She was happy when she found that the things she made were fine enough to sell for good prices. So she use her sewing skills to think and to make money at the same time. Lesalendral has been a gifted cleric for many years now. She dedicated her life to Grothar almost as soon as she was old enough to understand what that ment. Her faith has remained strong ever since then. No matter how many times her prayers fail to be answered, her faith has not wavered. Lesalendral loves to travel. She first left home when she was 30 to start her apprenticship as a cleric of Grothar, and returned home when she was 45. She often travels now, at first useing horses her parents gave her, until, when she was 155, she bought a beautiful Centoraurian horse. He is nor'sidian with snow white main and tail, and a blaze on his on his face only a few shades darker. When she was 156 she found an abandoned Uncil cub and brought it home with her. She had to leave home a year later this time for good, because she wanted to leave the forest and live somewhere she had never been before. Her horse, now named Shadow, and the Uncil, now named Star, both went with her along with some other personal items.

Weapons: She has only one weapon, the only one she can use. It's a bow, just a simple sturdy recurve bow.

Belongings: Besides normal supplies like food and extra clothes, all she has is her sewing and weaving equiptment. Nothing big, just needles and thread, etc.

Familiars: Her horse Shadow, he goes everywhere with her. Star, her Uncil, never leaves her side. She raised him from shortly after he was born, so now he doesn't need a leash to stay with her, he loves her to much to let her out of his sight even for a few seconds. Bother of her familiares are very protective of her, even a little overprotective sometimes. They do their best to make sure she is safe.  

Darkness is not the opposite of light, but the absence of it.

Edited by: Luca the Thief at: 11/15/05 2:20

[Tailan Tempest]

Name: Tailan Tempest
Gender: Male
Age: 56
Race: Human
Tribe: Avennorian
Occupation: Sailor
Title: Ancient Mariner

De*****ion: From a distance, Tailan appears to be a man that lacks the manners of modern society with long white hair that descends in an unkempt mass to the middle of his back. His snowy beard extends to the middle of his chest, and it is evident that a razor is a foreign object to the aged sailor. Closer inspection only confirms his untamed appearance, his yellow teeth often flash in a grin whenever he is telling a tale of his adventures upon the raging seas. His icy blue eyes hold a spark of merriment, though the fires of anger often burn within them.

Tanned from decades at sea, his skin is much darker than other members of his tribe. His slender and gaunt frame leads many to believe that age has weakened him, though in truth his muscles are toned from years of hauling a net upon the Adanian Sea. Standing at a mere one ped and two fores, most men tower over him. He weighs only slightly more than a pygge and not a mut of fat exists on his emaciated body.

Clothing: Every article of clothing upon his body is crafted from the hide of a whale and the hues of his boots, pants, and cloak resemble that of the barsa fish, a dark gray reminiscent of storm clouds. Soft, watertight boots extend slightly beyond his ankles. His pants consist of two layers that protect him from the elements and are baggy on his slender legs. A cloak that lacks a hood is clasped at his neck with a small silver brooch. His chest remains bare, only the scars of past fights decorate it. Each scar is nearly healed as if they were received decades ago, and only by looking closely can one see them against his dark skin.

Personality: Tailan is unique among other men in that he does not find women attractive. They are mere annoyances to him and are not worthy of his attention. Even their appearances do not please him, as he views them as flawed and would not touch a woman unless he absolutely had to. He enjoys the company of other men, especially sailors, and often regales his companions with tales of his adventures, though most are not true. Though he enjoys their company, his pleasure is derived from comradery and not an attraction to men.

His only love is that of the sea and the wonders she holds for anyone willing to listen to her crashing waves. Whenever he is on a ship, he will often stand alongside the prow as he looks upon the beauty of the sea. He has lived on the sea for many years and has seen many of her secrets, but he knows that she is a fickle mistress that will never reveal everything that lies beneath her waves. His mind often returns to a single moment in his life, when he was still young and foolish. It was then that he saw a gorgeous mermaid as he drowned in the raging sea. His love for her continues to burn within his heart to this very day, and he perceives her as the epitome of perfection. He does not distinguish between the sea and the mermaid, as he believes that the mermaid is merely an entity of the sea, a manifestation of her beauty, and he loves both with a passion that he could never feel for a mortal woman.

He does not worship any gods and does not believe in their existence. He will readily argue with anyone that dares to tell him that Baveras commands the sea or that Grothar controls the weather. His arguments are filled with insults to both the gods and to the person he argues with, and he will curse profanely whenever he is irritated. He worships the sea itself and believes that it is too great to be swayed by the prayers of a mere man. He views storms as the sea displaying her temper and will often be above deck while other sailors huddle below, for he does not fear the sea knowing that she will take him once his time has come.

Weapons & Belongings:
~ Quarterstaff
~ Knife
~ Flint and tinder
~ Fishing net
~ A small amount of silver

Most of his belongings are kept in a sack that he carries with him whenever he is traveling. His silver is kept in a small bag that hangs at his belt, and he simply carries the quarterstaff in his hands.

Familiar: His only familiar is an avenor cat that follows him wherever he goes. The cat does not have a name, and Tailan has tried to get rid of him on several occasions. The cat has a solid black coat, though he has silver fur on his feet and a silver blaze that extends from his forehead to the tip of his nose. He stands at two palmspans at his shoulder and weighs only a hafeb. The oddest thing about his appearance are his blue eyes that seem to hold a spark of mischief. The cat does not rely upon Tailan for food and will fish from any nearby body of water.

Strengths:
~ Tailan has trained with his quarterstaff for four decades and has exceptional skill in its use against both armed and unarmed foes.
~ He is stubborn and will not listen to the opinions of others, thus he cannot be subverted to a cause that he does not support.

Weaknesses:
~ His joints are often stiff, and he has trouble moving rapidly.
~ He does not possess the energy he had during his youth and tires easily.
~ His stubbornness often leads to him not accepting help when he desperately needs it.

History: Tailan was born in the fishing village of Parthanul to a simple fisherman and his wife. His father would sail his ducraer into the Adanian Sea each morning in search of fish to feed his meager family while Tailan and his mother mended the nets that had been torn in previous fishing expeditions. The boy's fingers were nimble and quick, and he was soon quite skilled in the repair of nets. He worked alongside of his mother during those years, but he never grew close to her as she rarely spoke. She seemed to be too dumb but do anything but mend nets and love his father. He assumed that all women were like this, and soon he spoke only to men and other boys, ignoring the girls of his village.

At the age of eight, his father took him onto the Adanian Sea for the first time, teaching the boy to sail the ducraer. Tailan was already skilled with nets and learned to fish simply by watching his father draw in the nets. They continued to fish together, and father and son grew close during the years they spent alone on the sea. His father would often regale him of tales about the harsh life on the sea and how she was a fickle mistress that could never truly be appeased. They were content with their simple life, but Tailan could feel himself longing for something more. The tales told by his father had sparked a desire for adventure within him, and the village of Parthanul was too small to contain his dreams.

He was only sixteen years old when he told his parents of his plan to travel to Marcogg and seek his fortune within that great city. His father begged him not to go, but his mother simply sat there as she always had, not even caring about the departure of her son. Tailan would not desist, but his father convinced him to take a weapon to defend himself with. The fisherman was a poor man and could only afford to purchase a simple quarterstaff from a traveling merchant. Tailan set out a week later, and his parents never saw him again.

He walked along the Northern River Road for several weeks before coming to the great city of Marcogg, practicing with his quarterstaff the entire time. His journey was surprisingly peaceful despite the fact that the ominous Shady Grove was nearby. He was surprised at how easy it was to enter the city, stating his name and business was sufficient for him to pass the guards, as he had always assumed that city dwellers were a suspicious lot. He did not want to venture too far from Mashdai River, as the knowledge that the river emptied into the sea comforted him. It was then that he wandered into the temple of Baveras and saw her image carved at the back of the temple. A woman there tried to convince him that Baveras was the Goddess of the Sea and could command the waves. He could not and would not believe such lies, and her accusations soon enraged him to the point that his curses could be heard on the street. A guard soon arrived and asked him to leave or enjoy a night in prison. He chose to be wise for once and peacefully left the temple.

It was as he left and walked along the river that he saw the most majestic ship he had ever seen. She was the answer to his dreams, and his eyes widened in awe as he read the name painted in blue along her hull. Her name was the Wave Mistress, and he approached the merchant that was supervising the loading of various trade goods. After a few moments of discussion, the merchant agreed to pay him to work as a sailor aboard the ship. He was not used to sailing a ship of her size, but he soon learned from the other sailors and enjoyed every moment he spent upon the Adanian Sea. Any free moment was spent either practicing with his quarterstaff, or telling tales to the other sailors. The only times when he did not enjoy his newfound life was when they sailed into a port, and he was forced to leave the ship and stay in a nearby tavern. Even then, he found some joy as he told tales to the locals and bought ale with his meager wages. His life continued in this manner for the next three decades until an event happened out upon the sea that would change his life forever.

It was the month of Molten Ice, and the greatest storm he had ever seen raged upon the Adanian Sea. Rain poured down from the heavens as mighty gales tossed the ship along the crashing waves. Anyone that possessed any sense tied themselves to the mast as they tried to sail the ship through the squall. Tailan did not fear the sea and refused to tie himself as he knew that the sea would take him when it was his time to die. A massive wave crashed over the deck of the ship and swept him into the churning waters. Even though he was an excellent swimmer, he could not prevail against the waves. His air soon ran out and his mind began to fade as the sea accepted him into her cold embrace. It was a moment before the spark of life faded completely that he saw her. Her long black hair flowed behind her as she swam through the sea with her strong tail. Her very skin seemed to be tinted with the hues of the sea, and Tailan knew that he was seeing the manifestation of the sea herself. She swam close to him and even reached out to touch him. Instead of her hand stroking his face as he had believed she would, she played with the silver clasp of his cloak, and her smile was such to light the darkest recesses of the sea. After only a moment, she turned away from him and seemed to lose all interest in him. It was then that he felt his hand close on the end of a rope, and his fellow sailors began to haul his half-dead body from the sea.

He awoke to a bright morning upon the calm sea. A blanket was wrapped around him, but he shivered at the mere memory of the cold sea. His understanding of the sea, which he had previously believed to be great, seemed inferior in light of the most recent event of his life. He finally understood that he would never know everything about the sea, but he longed to discover as much as his lifespan would allow. The ship sailed into Sunth a couple of weeks later, and he took the silver that he had earned and parted with the other sailors as he began to travel north. His life upon the ship had not revealed the secrets of the sea, and he hoped that he could learn more about her by traveling along her coast. He would feed himself using a net he had purchased in Sunth, and he cleaned the fish with his knife. Each night he would be lulled to sleep by the gentle sound of crashing waves as he slept upon the coast. He was not concerned with his looks and did not bother to cut his hair nor did he shave. His appearance was soon that of a wild man, though his clothes remained whole. The most recent decade of his life was spent on the coast of the Adanian Sea, practicing with his quarterstaff and listening to the sea. He continues to wander the coast to this very day, heading north and not leaving the sea.  

Tailan Tempest

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