Cameos

[SeverineHalo]

This is a thread where people can dicuss if they want a cameo appearence in this story. I did mention that people can make a cameo appearence if they want to. The main characters (who will be in the story till the end) are full for now. If you want to make an appearence (that will last as long as one or two chapters...depends on what i need you for), just post here. I will take you into consideration, and contact you if I decide to need you. Thank you.

"Once again, the lone soldier walks off into the sunset..." -Anonymous

[Radaroc]

  This is very creative.  First time I've ever seen "cameos" in an RPG.

In the begining I was weak.  Now I have purpose.  Stay me from my path and the Gods themselves cannot save you.

[SeverineHalo]

Name: Aiyana Xanthe

Gender: Female

Age: 120 (Um...I’m not sure how to use the conversion formula...my target human age is 20)

Race: Mélad'rhím Elf

Tribe: Mélad'rhím

Class/Title: Grey Ranger

Appearance: Aiyana stands 1.7526 peds, short for an elf. She weighs about 1 pygge and 3 hebs and has a light build. Though she is strong for her weight, her muscles are sinewy, not broad. She has extremely shoulder-length, straight, blond hair and large, deep, flinty eyes with a pale complexion. She has an oval, chiseled face, distinctly showing her elven heritage. She has the tattoo of an eagle on her calf, symbolizing her strength, independence and freedom. She is normally dressed in a pale grey leather jerkin, and similar pants. She also carries a vest made from the hide of a nul’tum and a bright green cloak she rarely wears. She has distinguishing fingers: long and thin, and extremely dexterous.

Personality: Aiyana has a fiery, robust personality. She loves to be free; to be able to choose her own destiny. Because of this, she rarely relates to gods or deities, preferring to rely on herself. She hates being tied down, which is one of the reasons she became a ranger in the first place. When she is happy and in a good mood, she is loud, cheerful and somewhat sarcastic. Sometimes, she becomes seductive and alluring, but this is rare. She tends to be social, but harbors certain doubts towards gnomes as she has had a few “awkward” experiences involving them. Though she is wary of gnomes, she holds no prejudice towards any race, preferring to judge the individual. Though she is social, she does not make friends easily, but when she does, they are friends forever. When she is angry or sad, she becomes withdrawn and quiet, rarely talking out her problems. She is her own biggest critic, and doesn’t normally give herself credit for things she has done. Vice-versa, she blames herself for anything she feels she could’ve stopped. She tends to go on her gut instinct, and doesn’t think things out if she feels she doesn’t need to. Though she’s not exactly gung-ho, she doesn’t avoid combat if it is an easier way around something. Though she tends to be somewhat irrational and spontaneous, she has an extremely sharp and logical mind; she just tends to listen to her heart more than her head. She does not follow many of her tribes customs, but respects them highly, never denouncing her past. She sees the world as an adventure; a way to get excitement. Danger just makes it a little more fun...

History: Aiyana was born in Northern Sarvonia, at one of the many places her tribe had moved to. She grew up like any other young elf, in the care of the entire tribe. She picked up her duties at a young age, but preferred to be taught by the many elders and hunters.
       Because of her preference to individual teaching, she was somewhat alienated by the other young ones. She didn’t mind though, as she had an unquenchable thirst for anything that might prove useful. Soon, she started to sneak out of her temporary village and practice the skills she was learning, including sword fighting and fletching. She trained herself as well, learning how to listen to the forest; how to read the animal’s movement and sounds.
       As she grew older, she quickly became a good hunter and trapper. She went on hunting excursions often, preferring them to other types of work. During these excursions, which sometimes lasted a few days, she taught herself how to track and then trap different animals. She valued these trips greatly, feeling more confident with every trip. Soon, life in the village became a bore. She constantly got into mischief as she had pent-up energy that she could not dispel. Her life was in the forest, not in her village.
       In the forest, along with developing physical skills, she learned how to calm herself mentally and to assess the situation. She also made a startling discovery one early, sun-filled morning. A hawk flew overhead, and let out its cry, shrill and short. Something in the back of Aiyana’s mind registered and awoken. Without meaning to, she let out a cry of her own, a piercing shriek. The hawk suddenly looked down, its eyes focusing on the two-legged creature that had called like an eagle. It let out another cry, and the hairy one responded again. Confused, the hawk flew out of sight. Aiyana celebrated this gift passionately, semi-communicating with birds everywhere she went. She developed this skill, soon able to vary her cries and somewhat interpret the responses yielded.
       Finally, she quit. During one of the tribe’s many migrations, she pronounced to the entire tribe that she would accompany them no further, for she felt she had to make her own path. The tribe understood, and many goodbyes were said before it was time to leave. Aiyana Xanthe watched her tribe vanish, her eyes alight and alive with freedom. She had had her doubts however. She had many friends and teachers in the village, people she did not part with easily. She felt, however, that she needed to become something, to become herself.
The Tribe had left her in sight of the Shaded forest, where she would benefit from the Injerin's protection. This hope was well based, as there had been rumors of orc movement to the north. Aiyana did not mind, as the Injerin did not bother her and left her in peace.
       With only a bow, some daggers and the clothes on her back, Aiyana began to forage. She had a comfortable shelter and blazing fire ready before nightfall, but still, she felt something was missing. She turned the stone over time and time again, letting the comfort wash over her. Her father had given it to her before she left, as a reminder. The stone was a family heirloom, so to speak. Every member of the family since its birth had let a single drop of blood hit the stone, and with it, part of their soul. The spirits of her ancestors comforted her, and she fell asleep.
       She woke up with a new sense of everything. The sky was bluer, the grass was greener, the flowers prettier; everything was better. She let out a sound, half-sigh and half-scream, the feeling of freedom inhabiting every pore of her body. Leaving her shelter, she jogged off, through the forest, through the meadows, around lakes, over hills. She took in every new sight with a newfound appreciation. This was truly her life.
       On the way back to her campsite, something felt wrong. She couldn’t understand or truly make out the sense, but her gut was doing summersaults. Her eyes flashed around her, growing hard and flinty. She saw it. A glint of metal behind a brush. In one fluid motion, a motion that was completed in the blink of an eye, she had drawn her boy, notched an arrow and fired. There was no scream, no grunt, no noise. The metal disappeared. Suddenly, the air around her sang with flashing metal. She felt cold iron cut into her arm, and her brain realized what was happening. Fortunately for the brain, her reflexes had already drawn two daggers, and she was already fighting back. It was over as quickly as it had begun. Three human men lay dead in front of her, another sprawled in the underbrush, an arrow through his neck. They wore no markings, only black cloaks and cheap leather undergarments. Petty thugs. She searched them, finding only one item she deemed useful. It was a scimitar. From the looks of it, the blade was steel, and the hilt was made of some unknown compound and inlaid with two small emeralds. As she hefted the blade, she was baffled and pleasantly surprised at how well it fit her. A grim smile spread through her lips.
       She suddenly realized she was bleeding. She had a deep gash in her right shoulder, and it was getting stiff and numb. She looked around for a few minutes, finding what she was looking for quickly. A few choice plants, and the bleeding was staunched and the pain gone. She stepped carefully over the bodies, walking back to her camp, her eyes burning but her heart content.
       After a few months of living alone, Aiyana decided it was time to move. She had mastered many traits, including the art of creating fire and shelter. As she packed her possessions, she heard a piercing cry. She looked up and saw a magnificent eagle soaring high above the treetops, surveying its domain. Subconsciously, she glanced down at her calf, where an eagle was tattooed onto her leg. She looked up again, and let out a piercing cry of her own. The eagle flew on, letting out another call. Aiyana responded, and suddenly, the eagle dove. Aiyana reacted as quickly as she could, throwing herself flat on the ground. She was a fraction of a second too slow however, and she gasped in pain as powerful talons raked her back. She covered herself with a heavy hide and let out a call of peace. The eagle responded, its call emanating power and superiority. Aiyana uncovered herself and watched as the eagle flew out of sight.
       For some reason, Aiyana decided to follow it. She took off running, forgetting the pain in her back, forgetting everything except the eagle. She saw it fly into a rocky outcropping high on a cliff. As Aiyana reached the base of the cliff, she looked up. And then, she started to climb. She was about 10 feet up when she heard the eagle cry again. This time, it was a mournful cry, a cry of longing. Aiyana climbed higher, and soon, the great eagle was in her sight. The eagle spotted her and gave a soft call. It cocked its head and looked at her with golden eyes, the eyes conveying her message clearly. Suddenly, Aiyana noticed the solitary egg that was in the nest. There was a crack in the egg, and Aiyana realized that whatever had been in it was already born. The great eagle suddenly stood up and spread its great wings, the eyes glazing over slowly. Aiyana watched as the bird’s eyes went in and out of focus, finally closing silently. The eagle died.
       A single tear trickled down Aiyana’s fair and beautiful face. She walked across the outcropping to the carcass, hefting it and pushing the body deeper into cave-like area. There was another weak cry. Aiyana immediately turned, and her eyes flitted across and finally rested on the baby eaglet which was looking up at her expectantly. Another tear fell to the ground as Aiyana scooped up the small bundle of feathers into her arm and proceeded to climb.
       After a year, the eagle, whom Aiyana had named Talyn, was trained to a fault. It obeyed multiple hand commands, as well as obeying Aiyana’s “bird speak”. The two became like siblings, as Talyn followed Aiyana everywhere, perching himself on her outstretched arm whenever she extended the opportunity.
       The two traveled Santharia together, each day an adventure. Aiyana finally realized that this was where she belonged. She belonged outside, free, exploring each niche of the continent until she had seen everything. She relished danger, the suspense of life and the glory-filled finish. Every second was a breath of fresh enthusiasm, and every day was different.
Soon, fueled by strange and wonderful tales, Aiyana decided to move west, towards Naurooth, where she intended to try and buy passage to southern Sarvonia. She arrived in the bustling coast town, and soon was ushered on to a ship, free of charge. She had had her doubts about the trip however, as she believed the ocean was a mysterious and sacred place. This belief was one of the few she kept after she left her tribe. For most of the trip, younger elves and deckhands alike crowded around her, listening to her stories. Other then that, the trip was uneventful, except for a chance sighting of a Kraken. This sighting caused chaos, as deckhands and passengers alike drew weapons, but for no reason, as the Kraken did not attack. Aiyana was awed by the awesome creature, but at the same time, resentful, as if one of the secrets of the ocean had just been revealed to her.
She landed a week later in the port town of Westhron, awed by the many races, especially the humans, who acted refined and dignified. She explored the town with wide eyes, taking in everything from the shops to the people to the smells and the food. She spent three days wandering the town, each day seeing something new and incredible.
Before she left from Westhron, she scrounged up food and water, and then left, heading southeast towards Voldar. She had no real goal or destination. She was not looking for anything specific. She was out there to explore, to fulfill her dreams and heart.

Occupation: Aiyana is a ranger, but has some tendencies towards being a thief. She prefers adventure over desk work, and would rather be in the outdoors penniless then indoors with comfort. She doesn’t stay in one place for very long, preferring to live off the land and her own wits. Most of the time it is her and Talyn, her trained Eagle. She is sort of an honorable thief when she has to be, taking only what she needs and from people who can afford to lose it. She is a very experienced hunter, trapper, scavenger and naturalist, and can identify many wild plants. She is fluent with a short bow, one she received from a traveling Eophyrhim. She can fletch her own arrows as well. She also knows how to use throwing knives and scimitars, but is clumsy with larger weapons. Overall, she is a good thief, a very experienced and learned ranger and a markswoman with many types of weapons.

Weaknesses: Aiyana is not trained in magic, and therefore cannot defend against it well. She cannot use larger, more powerful weapons, including clubs, greatswords, axes and large bows. Aiyana also is not very learned in books, as she does not value things like that.

Strengths: Aiyana is trained highly in lighter weapons, including slings, short bows, daggers, hatchets and scimitars. She is extremely accurate with short bows and throwing knives, and is a very good sword fighter with her preferred weapons. She is extremely agile and quick, able to run fast for long distances as well. She is a good climber, something she has learned and developed through her travels. She is in top physical condition, though she isn’t the strongest around.

Possessions: Aiyana owns a custom-crafted short bow, along with a quiver capable of holding 28 arrows. She carries four small throwing knives, each blade the length of her hand. In addition to the daggers, she has two small vials of non-lethal poison. She also carries a scimitar, as well as a sheath. She has multiple pieces of clothing, and her footwear are mostly boots, sandals or moccasin-type socks.

Animals/Familiars: Aiyana is always accompanied by her trained eagle, Talyn. It is often her only companion, and has helped her find food, shelter and other types of information many times. She has trained it using hand commands and short whistles, and it reacts almost flawlessly.  

"Once again, the lone soldier walks off into the sunset..." -Anonymous

[SeverineHalo]

Name: Sieg Caosestic

Gender: Male

Age: 23

Race: Human

Tribe: The Kasumarii Men

Class/Title: Korenjaans/Assassin.

Appearance: As Sieg's tribe is bred in short heights, he is average amongst them. He stands at about 1.7 peds, and his muscle gives him a slight weight increase at his height, weighing him in at about 1 pygge and about 63 hebs. His skin lies in a lighter yellow tone, kind of darker for his tribe, but lighter to alot of other tribes of the human race. He wears a long black cloak, the material is un-known, but it seems to be really rough, like a wool, but holds a sudden comfort like a silk. With the hood mostly always above his head, unless he has been engaged, his face is rarely seen, even in the brightest of days. Underneath this cloak, he wears a tight suit, it is made of the same material if the long, flowing cloak, but it is a little more flexible it seems. In this tight suit, he is still alotted a large aray of movement.

His face was crafted with a great delecacy, but was ruined by the scar that holds a curved shape on his lower right cheek. He holds his dark eyes proud, they seem to swirl in the light when they are rarely revealed. The different arrays of browns and greens change with the light, some are simply stunned in battle by this complex show of colors. His nose fits just right on his face, although it is slightly on the smaller side, it is very hard to notice. His cheek bones are placed high, and hold the soft skin of his face tightly, making him look younger than he is. His lips are soft, and a light pink color, not as if they have coloring added, but a natural light pink color. They are slightly chapped from his long sea travel, but not terribly noticable. His hair is on the shorter side. It's a lighter brown color and lays in a natural spike all across his head.

Under the cloak, tied tightly around his waist, is a sash of the same dark blue color of the rest of his clothing. In the front, it comes into a perfect little knot that would most likely never fall out unless forced by hand, and the 2 ends dangle down a little, on about half way down his thigh, and the other just below that. Tucked into the sash on his right side, as a strong, yet elegant moon blade. The hilt is wrapped around with some sort of string, to make it easy to grip. The sheath is made of some sort of light steal, stained black. On his left side tied neatly to his sash, are 2 pouches. The material is of unknown, and they were both given to him by the tribe before him and a few others were sent off. They are fastened shut, and don't seem to flop around when he seems to move hastily. Inside the one closer to his front side, are about 10 Moonstars, they are ordered neatly, and easily accesable in case needed quickly. In the back pouch, is a small amount of coins, and some different types of dried meat, just to snack on every once in a while. Tied to his back, under the cloak, is a small bag. It's the same color as everything else he wears, yet made of some different material. Inside, he just holds another change of the tight clothes that he wears under everything.

Personality: Sieg is a soft, yet can be hardcore when needed, person. He can hold a great sense of humor during any seriouse time, bringing light to the subject. Yet when needed, he will get seriouse. He will normally tone his fighting down if his mission is not to kill, he will switch his blade around to the dull side, and only seak to weaken the opponent, he will usually care for life unless he is payed well to take it. He bears a great sense of humor otherwise, and loves to chat around a little. Although when with an employer, he will act seriouse and like a buisness man. The only times that he will remove his hood, is when he is talking buisness. And the only times he will remove his whole cloak, is when he is engaged in battle, usually then he will take off the pack that rests on his back if he has time.

He holds his valaubles close, wether it be of an object, or a person. He has many things that are dearest to him, but most were left at home, except the small pendent that he holds tight around his next under his clothing. It was given to him at birth, and believes it brings him luck in dire times.

History: Sieg was born to a great Korenjaan family back on Cyholli, his father was a higher ranked Korenjaan warrior, and his mother, until his birth was a great tactitioner in their many battles. At birth, his father gave him a small neclace that held a pendant on it. It was given to him by his father, which was given to him by his father, which was given to him by his father, it was said to have been magically imbued by the great god of the silent sword, Echiilian, but this has never really been proved. Sieg started at an early age, being trained from his father almost as soon as he could walk. As he grew of age to under-go the true training, he was well prepared and easily came through. Although his superior abilities during Basic training, he slowly made his way up the ranks. He finished training at the age of 15 and before he left at the age of 20, was only in the seasoned duskblades. Although his low rank, he was still far supperior to any Savornian Assassin of the highest of ranks there. His dexterity and agility was un-matchable to anyone below him, although his strength was not the greatest, yet with his blade and a little running room, he could slice a larger boulder in 2 with one stroke.

His tribe finally had little use of him, and many others like him at home. They were growing in such numbers that anything they were payed for around home could have been taken care of with plenty of warriors, and some. They selected a large group to travel to the main continent with the Stormsons order. The travel lasted over a year from the southern tip of Cyholli to the coast of Santharia that lies to the east of the Tandala Highlands. The trip seemed way longer, and survival was hard. Everyone had to learn how to fish on their own, and the ships over the period of time often stopped to hastle other ships like normal, although the number was few. Along the trip, Sieg began a great friendship with a fellow Korenjaan, a female one by the name of Calri Cantolos. She carried around one Moonblade, it was slightly smaller than Sieg's which was about 1.5 peds in length. longer than alot of others. She dressed exactly like him, except smaller in size and carried around a little less in quantity of the Moonstars. The 2 survived together during the journey, and shared their catches amongst eachother. They often restricted themselves from their fellow travelers, and liked to be alone as much as possible on the crowded ship.

The trip ended with the boats hitting a large beach, a large chain of mountains could be seen in the distance.. Now was the time for everyone to chose a partner, of course Sieg and Calri chose to travel together, and were set to start in the town of Nyermersys. The lands were harsh, they were used to a cold climate, yet it was slightly warmer. The land was rocky, very mountainous, yet with large forests at the same time. They were addapted to fish, yet the path they took had little fishing, and they had to really on catching wild animals. Over the period of about a year that they crossed the land, they both addapted, and could catch for themselves with ease. The travel grew dangerous as they grew deaper and deaper into the highlands. The 2 traveled in stealth, yet Sieg was far more advanced than her in this training. He tried his best to protect her, while keeping himself safe, but could only do it for so long. She was slaughtered by a large Troll, while Sieg slipped away. Sieg felt great sorrow, he held a small burial, although he didn't have her body, and prayed apon each and every one of his gods to help her soul as she passed on. He continued to travel, still capturing for his own life, addapting more and more every day. He sensed his arrival apon the city soon. A large river stood before him, a dock was placed to the right of a large bridge, and across the bridge he saw a large stone wall. As he grew across the bridge, he saw a larger sized steal gate. As he grew closer, looking into the waters, admiring the fish that swam through, he kept walking. He finally saw a sign that announced the name of the gate, and saw the outline of a larger human. The sign read Blood Gate, and he knew he was finally at the place he was bound to stay.


Occupation: Sieg is an Assassin for hire. He will take any job, and the price is ranged upon the time and difficulty. If he must kill people, he usually bases his price around how many he kills, and how good he does it, usually he will bring back somthing to prove of his doing.

Abilities: Sieg is very skilled in every weapon he carries, he rarely misses his target with his ranged weapons, which are very limited in their range. He can hold up a strong offense with his sword, although he has little defensive skills.


Weaknesses: Sieg's training has rid him of many weaknesses, although he still has plenty. One of his most noticable is his sense of humor. Most people love it, and almost die laughing, but when he gets to pushing it onto someone, as in cracking jokes on them, some people start to get very defensive. It has cause him only few minor fights back home, and will for sure cause many into the future.

Leading into the fighting, he only holds some minor weaknesses, although he is still very easy to defeat if one found out his weakness, although they rarely have time. He knows of most of the defensive moves in his style of the Moonblade, although rarely ever puts them to use. He is strong on offense, and will mostly strike with the dull side of his blade to only injure, unless killing is required. When he does get lead into a defensive fight though, he still pushes his offensive moves in, and mostly counters instead of defending.

He is weak against most other weapons that he knows of besides swords and clubs. Weapons such as axe's are very hard to defend against, yet he has managed before. He also isn't very quick in long distances, he has a weak point in running and in the long run, could be caught up to very easily.

Another one of his great weaknesses are his values and valuables. If anyone tries to chalenge his athority when he has it, he gets very angry, although he will mostly hold it in. This also goes the same with his valuables, except he is far less leniant. If someone were to touch one of his prized possesions without his likeing, he would instantly take care of the problem, often getting him in trouble.

Strengths: Sieg's training has allowed him many strengths over the years, along with the long travels that he has endured. He has had plenty of time to learn and practice with his single Moonblade. He is advanced with its combat, and knows and has mastered mostly every aspect of the single sided one. Along with the Moonblade, he is completely accurate and quick with his Moonstars, they are a great way to quickly even the odds in almost any situation. He holds a basic concept of hand to hand combat, he has played with it over the years, and has grasped onto it well, mixed in with his advanced stealth, even the most basic of moves can be deadly.

With other swords, he is mostly effective, whether they be little swords such as daggers, medium swords, or even large swords. When it comes down to it though, he will usually strike the first blow. If he does get the 1st blow in, then he doesn't have to worry about other weapons.

He is a strong human, although not really compared to some of the larger tribes. He can hold his own in arm wrestling, but there are plenty of men, even women who could put him to shame. He is very agile, his movements quick and precise while still holding a certaint solitude and stealth to them when need be. Although he is agile, he does not have much speed. He can make quick bursts of movement, that can be as flexible as needed with-in human limits, yet over a long distance, he can not hold an immense speed.

Another of his great strengths, but also falls into weaknesses is his personality. He is great with humor, and can bring light to most of any dark situations. He can talk his way through many of things, and can be seriouse one moment, and flow into a humorous mood without anyone even catching on. He has a great way of making money, usually by assasination, but he can also bring a comedy or 2 out and make some minor earnings.

Possesions: Sieg travels light. He carries a Moonblade that is about 1.5 peds in length, it's on his right side tucked into his sash, held within a steal sheath. On the left side of his sash, he carries 2 pouches on his left side. Inside one is 10 Moonstars, and in the other is a small amount of different dried meats, and a small stash of money. On his back he carries a smaller sized pack that is just big enough to fit a change of clothes, exactly like the Dark Blue ones he wears now, but they are black. And of course, tucked deep under his clothing, is his most beloved Talisman(Charm, pendant, whatever you want to call it.)

"Once again, the lone soldier walks off into the sunset..." -Anonymous

[Gaynor the Damned]

I would be very interested in making a short appearance. It suits my chaotic personality very well.  How would I go about negotiating such a thing?

Is there a madman with a brain, to turn the stuff of nightmare sane, and demons crush and chaos tame, who'll leave his realm, forsake his fame, and tossed by contradictory tides, give up his pride for pain?

[Gaynor the Damned]

*Turns of Sig* Opps.

Sorry bout that, i'll be more careful next time.  

[SeverineHalo]

Hehehe...THIS is the kind of person I need for my story! Well Gaynor...it depends on what side you're on. Since you're making a cameo appearence, you don't have to be on the same side as the good guys. You can just check out the story and find an appropiate palce to start posting. Just contact me or Phiona before doing so and tell us your ideas.

"Once again, the lone soldier walks off into the sunset..." -Anonymous

[Tierria Selig]

Deren Sylblade

Gender: Male

Age: 36

Race: Human

Tribe: Kasumarii- Korenjaan

Class/Title:Assassin

Appearance

1.7 peds in height. Deren's skin color is that of a full moon on a clear night. His hair is long and platinum colored. It hangs just below his shoulders. His face is not very long and nearly flat. His coal black eyes shine in moonlight. His arms fall down to his thighs. He is of a medium build. He's not too bulky, but not scrawny either. He always has his mouth covered with the collar on his jacket. He wears his sisters shining silver band on his left ring finger.

Personality

Very professional, his "motto" persay, is "whatever has to be done get it done fast". He rarely goes out of his way to talk to people. Quite a shady character. The kind who you would find in a corner in a bar with pint in hand, listening in on everyones conversations in hope to find a job. Though his "motto" seems carefee, he has his own moral restrictions. If someone were to ask him to assasinate a child, he would most likely kill that person instead. He hates lazy people, especially when it comes to raising families and producing a good life. Though he is a very expensive assasin, and always has quite a bit of money, Deren is always busy. He never just does nothing. Either he is loooking for a job, or is doing a job. Of course, there are some in between cases where he may be doing a little something on his own. For revenge, or maybe just to help someone. He generally travels by night, and stays in some inn or a tent during the day.

History

Deren, and his twin sister Nala have practiced the arts of the Korenjaan since birth. Deren is the hardy one. Though he is stronger than his sister, he is less agile and less dexterous. He has a noble heart- a protector of the weak if you must. Though this wasn't bad, it passed as odd to the rest of his family.

His father always held him in higher regard then Nala. He believed him to be the best male in the tribe. He often would go hunting alone with him, and train him as hard as he could. His mother, a Greendeath, stuck to Nala's training. Nala and Deren were very close, despite the acts of favoritism shown by their parents. They often hunted together, bet on who would take home the bigger prize.

At 25, he and his sister participated in the tournament for government, and both lost. They both did well. Soon after the tournament, the master of the six orders contacted Nala. She was chosen to be trained by him for the nigtson sect. Deren was proud of his sister, yet he worried of himself.

Why wasn't I picked? I'm just as good as Nala. Maybe this was a mistake. I'll probably be notified soon.

Unfortunately, he wasn't. This thre him in a state of near fury and shame. He knew only the best were accepted into the Nightson clan, and if Nala was chosen, he certainly should have been. His father, tried to calm him, but it ended up making things worst.

Why, - why me? I'm the first in twelve generations not to be accepted- Why? I've bought shame upon my family name.

No you haven't son. Calm Down. You have not hurt our family name. Only the very best can become nigtsons, you know that. You are an excellent warrior son, but you just didn't make it.

What? That's supposed to make me feel better? You're not good enough, live with it? Well then, if i'm not good enough
then I'll become better than all of you. All of you!

With that, he with his things ran off, and no one bothered to follow him but Nala. She said nothing, but put a ring on his finger and kissed him on the cheek. She then slipped of into the snow.

He took a ship to Carabrand, he stayed there about one year and made money doing odd jobs and "dirty" work for people.From there he proceeded to Carmalad. He disliked the vessel, but he did not want to waste money on a high class vessel. In Carmalad, he began to train himself and master his skills as a Kasumarii Warrior. Though he did not quite master his skills yet, he got bored with Enthronia and headed west to make a living, and a name for himself.

Occupation: Mercenary

Weaknesses: He has a tendency to bake in the sunlight, even when its not very hot out, do to the cold climate he was accustomed too. If attacked with a projectile weapon, he will probably not be able to stop it. Though his instincts and reflexes are good, he isn't able to sense things flying at him from nohwhere. Though his hearing is good, it is not very reliable, and his ears often betray him. Deren is not a very good climber, making it hard to get into trees and up steep hills if he needs to.

Strengths: He adapts well to the dark. His vision adjusts slightly quicker than the average human. His vision is still limited, just enough to make out the shape of something. If he can't see something, he can hear it moving, but his hearing is not very reliable. He is good at sneaking around, hiding in shadows and being very quiet while moving around. His weapon of choice is the moonblade. He is also proficient with throwing knives and stars.

Possessions

Normal Possesions

A silver ring that once belonged to his sister.

A Dyed Black Backpack, in which he carries provisions, his cloak, and any weapons besides the traditional Moonblade and Nighteeth.

Armament

A Moonblade

15 Nightooths- Four conveniantly stored in his hair, two on each arm and leg, and four on little concealed hoops in his jacket. They are retrieved, if possible after every use..

Clothing

A long black jacket with a large collar that covers his mouth. Beneath this, he generally wears dark colored, lightweight clothing.

A black cloak for nighttime camoflauge.

Wooden Sandals  

[SeverineHalo]

Name: Ripp Dide

Race: Elf        

Tribe: Sanhorrhim

Requested Title: Water Druid (Male, Elf)

Age
- 270

Appearance
Ripp's eyes are like most of his kin. A colorless iris, surrounded by a thin ring of black before the actual white of the eye. His hair is a very pale blond tied into a tight pony-tail that is just long enough to stand off from his head and not touch his back. His skin is a healthy, leathery tan. He is lean with very sinuous muscles and long spider-like fingers. He has a large tattoo of the Silffin (steed of Braveras) on his back and a compass rose on the back of his left hand that has two points: one points always to the north and the other to the nearest body of water. (explained in history). Ripp wears wide legged pastel blue pants and a sea-green short sleeved tunic under a flowing blue robes with a low hood. His white eyes He is 1.6 peds high and weighs 1 1/2 pygges.


Personality
Ripp is a unusual elf more like a human in some ways. He is very chaotic. His mood can change from warm laughter to an icy coldness as sharp as knife point. In this and other ways he is like the waters he controls: everchanging, strong, deep, cold, warm, calm, and storming. When among his friends he laughs long and smiles easy but his foes see him differently. In battle like a winter's storm he rages without heed to his life, his only goal then is that those who have wronged him will pay. But, other times he will enjoy the thrill of the fight, laughing and grinning like a madman he jokes and sings as he bashes his foes heads in. He grieves for his parents deaths and will mope about when thought of their death comes to him. Ripp when unsure of the people around him will stand quietly watching them with is pure white eyes usually suddenly joining a conversation in an effort to learn all he can about everything. He enjoys practicing with his Efryst

Magic - Blue Druid
-Can control and shape water to his will
-Can know when a storm or rough seas are coming
-Can manipulate the currents of rivers and oceans. (He could divert a river and make it sweep out a cave.)


History In the tenth month of the year a young elf was born of a Silversmith father (of no small renowned) and a Boat Fisher mother in the Sanhorrim town of Chón'thyrón. Ripp (as he was called) was a rambunctious youngster and a much faster learner then most of the other children. When he had reached the age of two and all the other kids were still crawling his mother said to him "If only you could walk then I wouldn't have to carry over to the cleric's every day for lessons.", at this little Ripp just laughed and crawled off his mother's lap and ran back to his room. Well the years passed and by age 15 he could already cast a spear 10 peds and kill a crab.

Still things were not always good one day his father took ill and could not work for 4 months bedridden with a disease that caused him to spasm and sometimes hallucinate. His mother being forced for all the family (Ripp and one 7 year old baby sister) and still work on the boats. She took Ripp and Mean (his sister) along on a fishing boat to try to keep both of them under her eyes. During most of the trip Ripp amused himself by watching the Dolfolk play in the wake of their ships passing. Then turing around he saw his sister leaning far past the railing of the boat.
"No! Wait! Stop her! Meeaannn!"
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH," screamed the small elfchild as she plunged into the depths.

Just as Mean toppled over into the sea, Ripp came running up and dove in after her. The helms'elf having heard the cries of both Ripp and Mean had rushed over to the side to throw a stretch of rope but it was too late. Signs of neither Ripp nor Mean could be found after hours of searching. Dejectedly the small fishing boat went back to see a black flag raised high on the mast. Soon after they had debarked and Ripp's Mother (Jetta) was crying as she walked down the dock now being forced to lose her two children and maybe still her mate. Then she heard a familiar voice.
"MOM! Over here we're all right!"
There coming swiftly down the small cove that was used as a natural harbor. Was a pod of Dolfolk her son and daughter riding on the leader.

As all the others of the pod danced and played at helping some of their elven neighbors. Waveridder was as close to a serious Dolfolk you could get. Unlike his pod mates who had wanted to play with the two children Waveridder realized that they needed help and lifted them up upon his back. His biggest surprise had been when the young male had spoken to him in his own tongue and asked his name. Stunned that one so young would know the language of the Dolfolk.
"I am known as Waveridder to my people and who might you be young landwalker." he eeked.

"My name is Ripp and that's my sister Mean. I was wondering if you could take us back to the harbor in Chón'thyrón its along swim for us but if we road you it would be much faster." Ripp replied in the same tongue.

Waveridder laughed at the clever elf and called together his pod and began swimming at all possible speed to the cove.

Jetta leaned down to pick her children up from the back of the pod leader.
"Thank you so much for saving my children," Jetta said in her own language, "the only way I can think to repay you is to give you and your pod the spoils of our catch." Then a cleric who knew the speech of the Dolfolk came and was able to translate the reply.
"You have two fine children fair elfess," Waveridder squeaked out, "I shall expect great things of the boy he is quick witted and well spoken, but we do not need your fish. We can find our own well enough. Actually if you give us the first catch of the season we will guide you to the best spots for fishing as a way to show as lasting friendship between us."

Ripp's father got better and things were good for the family. The fishing fleet was bringing in better catches than ever before and Ripp grew. Fifty quiet years passed and by human reckoning Ripp looked to be and sprite lad of 13. One day a elven Blue Druid came to city having heard of the bond between the fisher-elves and the Dolpholk. He carried a Efryst which no one knew about until a couple of human traders on shore leave on town tried to ruff him up. The Druid whipped out his Staff pressed a small button on the haft and part of the ends split off on chains and became a Efryst. Grabbing onto the middle haft he started flicking both his wrists and a amazing speed. The whirring sound alone began to put the fear of the Gods in the two humans then Crack! Crack! two very dazed and very befuddled humans lay on the ground as the Druid stuffed the chains back in the haft and began to stride away. Ripp was amazed and very intrigued running after the Druid
[/b]"Sir,"[/b] he called. The elf stopped and turned, "Master Druid, how did you do that." Ripp said with slack jawed amazement, I learned from my master that you should never appear dangerous but to carry no weapons at all is simply foolish." the Water Druid replied. Ripp started again and stated adamantly, "Te The older elf began to laugh, "Dear boy you are too young first you would have to make your own chainstaff and then maybe I would teach you." Ripp turned around and headed home a steely look in his eyes. "Well, that should keep him off my back while I am in the city."

A few weeks passed and the Druid was walking down the dock when suddenly...
"AAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYEEEE!!! YAAAAAAAA!!!"

From behind him came a mighty battle-cry. Whipping around his Efyrst, it's two ends already building up speed. He block a jet black Adlemir staff the silver knobs on each end.
Teach ME!

Ripp's surprise attack had caught the Druid off guard. Suddenly remembering the elf lad he laughed as he parried each blow and abruptly going on the offensive caught one end of his chainstaff around Ripp's leg and tugged. Ripp slammed into the ground and looked up at the Druid, Tech Me! he gasped out through labored breaths. Fairly laughing his head off the Druid replied, And if I said no? Ripp began to shake with fury and the water near by began to swirl into a rising column that took upon the shape of a giants fist about to slam the Druid right through the wooden planking.

Gasping at the boy's control of the water, the Water Druid barely raised his hand up in time to stay the watery fist with considerable difficulty he shoved the water back to the sea and it began to calm. The Druid grabbed Ripp, How in Braveras' name did you do that! Ripp nearly as stunned as the Druid shook his head numbly.

The Druid picked up the boy and ran to Ripp's his house. Brushing passed his bewildered father he set the comatose Ripp in one of the hammocks. As Ripp woke up he heard his father's voice and the of the Druid.
"But he's just a boy. You can't expect him just to up and leave his whole world." his father argued
"All the same he must be brought before the council. Such powers should not be taken lightly if he were to become so angry at someone not as skilled as myself. Braveras knows what could have happened!"
"I know!" said his father , But so young?
"It must be decided and it must be decided quickly!" said the Druid.
"My child, is he all right?" Ripp heard as his mother arrived.
"I am sorry for not introducing myself to you earlier I am the Blue Druid, Ave'al
Deepcurrent protector of the Cyon Sola Bay, and your son must come with me to be trained and kept safe so he does not harm himself or others with powers he does not comprehend."

"Fine," Jetta said coldly, "but if I hear of harm on his head I shall have yours."

"Yes, yes, of course, of course, he shall be kept safe I assure you." Ave'al said hurriedly, "He will be safe and taught how to eventually do that for himself. May we go?

Ripp rose up and walked into the room a pack on his back and boots on his feet, "I am ready and I accept your offer.
"One thing before you go it shall not take long." his mother said.

Whisking him out the door she raced down to the temple. Once inside she went to her brother a High Cleric of Braveras and whispered in his ear. He looked stunned for a moment and then nodded grimly. Grabbing a flask of holy water, a tooth of a Ancythrian Shark, and some oil of a Giant Kraken. Muttering a prayer to Braveras he dipped the tooth in the oil and in a few minuets a compass was tattooed on the back of his hand. Then after a splash of the holy water and another prayer the 2 points began to spin wildly and then settled in to directions. His uncle looked at Ripp and said pointing to each point in turn, "This one will always point to the north so that you will never be lost and this one will always point to the closest body of water so that you never thirst." Ripp nodded.

Once he came back home he saw the staff he had been working on in the appraising hands of Ave'al, "This is nice, did you do it yourself or did you have help?"

"Umm...Except for the knobs on the ends that my father made...Ya I did it my self."

"Amazing," said the older elf, "all you have left is the chain sections and I can help you with that. Well," he said looking up "lets go." rising up to tower over the young elf he walked out the door, turned and beckoned Ripp to follow with one look back he turned and walked off with his new master to learn the ways of the world and himself.

Crrrack! Wackkk!

The two elves whirled around each other at a frenzied pace. Each had a Efryst, the elder dressed in blue robes obviously was the more skilled but his young opponent. However the young elf put up a good fight even with the occasional knocks on the head by his master.

"Well, Master, Ripp gasped through labored breaths,"You will be wanting to surrender soon, old one" At this Ave'al laughed as he had only worked up a minor sweat, "Surrender? Ripp you must learn not to be so--WHAAOO!," he cried out startled as Ripp had nearly caught his right leg with one of the twirling ends of his chainstaff. "I presume you were going to say cocky, master." Ripp said with a large grin on his face. "Ooohoo, want to play for keeps, take off the kid gloves, all right then." Ave'al depressed a button on his staff and the ends chains whipped back in with a loud "Clack!" moving swiftly he brought the top crashing down on Ripp's head. As Ripp began to block this with the center piece of his weapon, the elder Druid pressed the first button and the ends came off again, he whipped the bottom down and then up to catch on Ripp's wrist. Ave'al then pulled and twisted on the staff and Ripp came down, hard. Ave'al then kneeled on his shoulders and with a small dagger that was in a spring loaded sheath on his wrist cut the nape of his neck drawing a thin line of blood. "And that boy is why you should keep your tongue still in battle."

Ripp is growing into a strong elven 'teen" he is now 76 years old his medium cut hair kept in a ponytail. He and Ave'al have traveled up and down the coast of Cyon Sola Bay for 21 years over that time they have visited the many settlements of the Sanhorrim and he has begun to master the difficult skill of the Efryst. His Druidic power have also developed to the point where he can shape water into a crude wall or a small whirlpool. He had traveled to the council of Blue Druids at Trying three times on his second trip he had been appointed as Ave'al's official apprentice and thus he could begin to where the blue robes of a Water Druid.

On a dock of a small Sanhorrhim fishing village the two druids stood practicing water control. Ripp had a thin column of water rising up from the surface of the ocean. "Now curve it toward us." said Ave'al. The spout bent about two-thirds up in a shallow curve, "Like this?' Ripp queried. "Good, good, now widen it to about one ped. More water was sucked up from the sea and the spout grew. There a thick tower of water stood about have an elves height, both of them felt the spray flying off the column. Then a large fish came whizzing out of the water and hit Ave'al smack in the head. Ripp startled lost his control of the water and began snickering as his master sat up on the dock a large welt rising from where the fish had hit. The look on the older druids face was one of shock. "Owww, that really hurt." Ave'al said rubbing his face. Ripp turned to him tears running down his face. 'Sorr-hehehe really I apolo-hahahaha apologize it was an acc-hehehehe accident." "Right," muttered Ave'al "now start at the beginning and keep the water in a tight matrix. No water or spray should be felt escaping."


Slowly the spout took form and widened. As it grew taller, some of the villagers and fisherelves had come back home and came onto the dock to watch the rare spectacle. As it reached 3 peds in height even Ave'al was starting to get worried that it would collapse. "OK boy that's good start to let it down now." he said trying to stay calm as the column grew larger still. "That's the problem," Ripp replied, "Ummm...I can't. "What do you mean you can't?" the elder druid said getting quite distressed. "Yea...I lost control of how much water it was taking in and now....I can't. Ave'al gaped. He turned to the growing crowd and said very seriously, "Run. Away." "Good advice sir I'm not sure how much...longer..I can keep it from collapsing!" Then Ripp had an idea, "Sir what if I reverse the rotation and try to bring it back down." "Right now," the druid replied, "I'm up for anything to keep that from crushing us but I don't think I could stop that from falling at this point. Give it ago ma' boy." Gritting his teeth Ripp focused all his energy and mind on the task suddenly the column stopped moving and threatened to fall and the ensuing wave crush them both. Then it reversed right as it had begun to drop back into the water. Slowly the column of water became a whirlpool but still tight under Ripp's control.
Once the whirlpool had dissipated Ave'al turned to Ripp, his face was terrible to behold. "YOU impudent FOOL!" he roared, "You endangered the lives of both you and I but also those villagers!" "But sir," Ripp stammered, "I brought it back under control!" Ave'al shook his head, "But what if you hadn't. What if you loss control and it toppled on top of you. Then what!" Ripp looked at the ground trying to not look into his master's eyes, "But I did." Ave'al then looked at his charge and a smile crept over his face, "Yes. Yes, you did didn't you. I guess our next lesson will be focusing"

Now Ripp was at the age of 102, an adult in all reckoning. In time they went again to the council. Ave'al was called from his position as protector of Cyon Sola Bay to go south to Strata to investigate a matter which was kept from Ripp's knowledge. In his stead they placed Ripp as the new protector, a full druid.

Ripp traveled along the cost keeping an eye on all the happenings of the Bay one as traveling back to Chón'thyrón to visit his parents and family as he crossed the hill just south of the city he saw a pillar of smoke rising from the town. What is happening! he thought as he neared the town and heard the clash of steel on steel. A band of guards rushed toward him swords at the ready. "Wait," he called, "I am Ripp Dide I used to live here, what in Braveras' name is going on?" the leader stepped up and older elf ran to him and hugged him he carried a large hammer with large muscles bulging as he grabbed Ripp, "Ripp my boy we need you. Corsairs attacked at dawn just after the fishing fleet had left we tried to hold them at the docks but we failed." at this he choked up and wiped the soot from his face. Then Ripp recognized him, "Father it's been far, far too long. But where are Mean and mother?" "Your mother is out with the fleet and your sister....I don't know. She was supposed to run to Tán'nyermér and get the army to come help us. We can't hold them back much longer!" "Then we must take back what is ours! Follow me." At this Ripp dashed of down the streets. Slowly the gathered more and more fighters and attacked and killed a few looting pirates.

"Aldoun sir, a group of elves r' leadin' a counter attack." a breathless pirate exclaimed, They be led by a mage of some sort. Sir do we have what we came for? The captain turned to the messenger. Suddenly he whipped out his cutlass and held it just pricking the man's neck, "NO! You seascum, you flotsam of the coves. Round up the rest o' the boys we're takin' that elf...alive.

Ripp and his band tore closer to the jetty through empty streets. When the harbor came into sight, two score of brigands, knaves, and scum of all sorts appeared from the buildings around them. "You'll not get any farther boy'os. We almost have what we came for." said a well built human with a long cutlass obviously the leader he waved forward an unseen person. Slowly from behind a shattered doorway a man walked out and in front of him was a female elf a knife pressed to her neck, it was Mean. "Another move boy and the girl gets sent to Av'. We came lookin' fer you. There's been a lot of talk about a elf makein' it hard for a man such as myself to irk out a livin'. So you're coming with us and you'll do as I say and your little sister gets to live another day. "Don't do it Ripp," his sister cried, "they slaughtered the entire fishing fleet!

"JETTA!!!" Ripp's father rushed at the captain. The pirate sidestepped stuck his sword out and the silversmith impaled himself on it. He was dead, a surprised look on his face. Anyone else wanna give it a go? Come with us druid and no one else gets hurt. Resigned Ripp began walking toward the corsairs. "NO! Ripp don't do it I'm not worth it!" He turned to look at her, "What would you have me do? They'd just kill everyone else otherwise." The pirate sneered, "That's right we just kill the rest of them, harharhar!" Slowly he followed the Captain he hands in manacles, "By Braveras! Why did she have to go and get herself caught! Now what will I do?" he thought to himself. Finally they reached the harbor three great four masted galleys were floating at dock. They boarded the largest of them. It had a great skull-and-crossbones flag on the mainmast and a carved Sea Wyrm on the prow. "That be me ship. The great "S[/i] and your job,"[/b] he said, stabbing at Ripp, "Will be to make sure she stays on smooth waters." "What? Is that what you want me for?! To make the seas calm? You must be a poor sailor to need me to make sure your boats don't get into trouble." Ripp snidely commented. The pirate whirled around, "One more word out of you about my skills as a sailor and I'll show you my skills, as a knife- They reached the deck of the Sea Fang, the captain (Aldoun) pointed to a pole near the helm and then nodded his head to the cabins. The brigands walked over to the pole and slid RippÕs manacles over it and chained his legs to two iron loops on the planking. Mean was taken over to the cabins and that was the last he saw of her for 2 months.

"I am prepared to meet my maker, but, is my maker prepared to meet me?"

Ripp Dide
Water Druid (male Elf)
Posts: 29
(7/30/03 22:51)
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Aldoun would often tell Ripp of the horrors of the seas but he slowly seemed to take a liking to the elf. Confiding in him, his suspicions of the crew, when they would make next landfall, and various things that pirate captains worry about. Ripp came to realize that Captain Aldoun was not a cold hearted man, sure sometimes he might go overboard but to say he enjoyed killing would be stretching it. Most of the time he kept casualties to a minimum and just took the riches, rarely stealing the food of the towns he raided so that they could live through the winter. Once a day he would let Ripp roam the ship, knowing that the elf would not sink the boat while they were fall from land. He even went so far as to make a canvas tent for him so he could stay out of the sun and rain while tied to his pole.

One night Ripp sat in his tent just listening to the waves when he saw three dark figures moving along the deck their steps making the boards creek and squeak as the moved toward the cabin where his sister was kept, he had not seen her since his capture but he constantly watched the door so that he might catch a glimpse of her, Ripp watched the figures fiddle with the doorknob then heard a muffled scream. He knew his sister was in danger. He called for Aldoun or anyone but they were below decks and his cries went unheeded. His muscles surged against the ropes and they were strained, most days during his periods of freedom he would run around the deck or help with the rigging but mainly he was doing physical labor of some sort and his muscles had grown exponentially during this time, the ropes were hard from sea water drying in them day after day again he heard the scream this time weaker. Fury raged through him all his mind focused on this task.

*POP,POP*

The ropes snapped and he surged forth. He grabbed a harpoon lying against the wall and slammed the door open. The pirates froze, Mean lay on the floor beaten and bruised, it was then that they looked on the true fury of the seas. He came at them silently but lightning quick, one moved toward him having drawn and belt knife and he waved it menacingly at him but this didnÕt slow the enraged elf down, using the longer reach of the harpoon he whipped it at the pirated hands slicing the tendons of the hands, the knife clattered to the floor. A quick stab and it would have been finished for the now unarmed man except one of the others (shorter then the others) tried to run but the harpoon stabbed through his back and into his belly. The largest moved toward him his hands out thrust making choking motions, ÓYouÕll pay ferÕ interfering, pointy-ears.Ó, however Òpointy-earsÓ was not very nice, stabbing at the manÕs face the ripped down his cheek and sliced the corner of his mouth the giant roared in pain and rage and body slammed the elf. His girth would have surely killed the elf but Ripp quickly raised the harpoon and the man was skewered by his own weight, his face twisted with pain when he looked at Ripp (still beneath him) and his eyes rolled up and he was dead. A shadow came over Ripp, it was the pirate with the lame hand, ÓTsk, Tsk, elfy Aldoun may like you but this,Ó he looked at the carnage, Ó,is very nasty business, so IÕm afraid you must die!Ó he raised the knife now in his other hand and started to stab down when,

*CRACK*

A chair slammed over he head and he fell to the decking, Mean stood there panting the pieces of chair fell from her grasp. ÓHelp me move him, she said heaving on the man lying on top of Ripp, he pushed with her and rolled the corpulent man of him. Ó(sister in elvish), IÕve been worried about you. Why have they kept you in here so long?Ó Ripp asked holding her at armslength. ÓThey have not kept me here all the time, Aldoun lets me come ashore when ever we reach land. He is not really as bad as I first thought.Ó she laughed nervously. She seemed very calm but he could see in her eyes that she was shaken at what had just happened to her. ÓBy the gods,Ó a quiet voice whispered, ÓThree of the best fighters on my crew, dead.Ó Aldoun looked up at Ripp, ÓYou are free laddy! I can nay keep one of the finest fighters this side oÕ Sorren tied to a pole stuck on my olÕ tub.Ó he was grinning broadly.
So it was that Ripp and Mean sailed the many seas with Aldoun and his crew, and so it was that they did more(and better) business trading rather than pirating.

But as all good things at some point it must come to an end. Aldoun dead, Ôlo now 15 years. Ripp at 117 years of age captained the Sea Wyrm his sister Mean. Had left the ship after AldounÕs death, Ripp let her off in their homevillage of Chón'thyrón.

It was on a trade run (steel for pelts) to Carabrand, on the island of the Kasumarii. The only other non Kasumarii ship in dock was a small 2 masted cutter, The SeaÕs Majesty, hailing from Carmalad, with some high quality cloths. Ripp had wondered who they thought was going to buy them, but that was of little import to him. The first night at dock he had ordered all to stay on board. The woman on night watch told him that 7 crew men from the Majesty had left in the afternoon but by late evening 5 of them carrying between them one covered in bandages had run at full tilt back to their ship. With this information Ripp grew more wary.

Ripp had taken a number of sailors on shore leave and to see if they could get anything to bring back. Knowing full well the reputation of the Kar-ii he had taken the largest and strongest men and a new young privateer from Nyermersys, Uthor was only as tall as the small (for his race) elf, but he was agile lithe and a demon with his daggers. As they walked up the path from the harbor they got a number a nasty looks from the slim native Kar-ii. But whenever they got a sneer the white-eyed elf just smiled and winked at them putting the gruff northerners off balance. Soon they arrived at the house of a high ranking Kar-ii who asked only to be called Storm. As the arrived a diminutive man took them in and sat Ripp in a large chair covered in pelts an even larger across from him, his men remained standing. Soon a unusually tall and muscular Kasumarii came in and sat across from the elf.

ÓI trust you have the materials we need, Captain DideÓ the Kar-ii said in a cold voice.
Ripp started at him with his large blank white eyes he smiled benignly, ÓI apologize good sir but you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name but I donÕt know yours.Ó

The man looked at him vacantly with just a hint of condensation, ÓStormÓ he sighed, ÓNow, where is the metals we asked for? You will get your furs but I must make sure you end has been upheld.Ó
Ripp turned to a tall man in his crew, bald but with a great fire red beard, ÓDadrik the package.Ó The silently held out a strong wooden box, Ripp took it and set it in his lap and opened it. In it lay a magnificent stiletto dagger and a small rectangular piece of dull steel. He offered it toward Storm, the Kar-iiÕs eyes widened fleetingly as he admired the high quality material. He put them both back closed the box and set it next to his chair.

ÓWell Captain, I believe that our time here is done, your furs will be at your ship by the time you arrive. I hope future venture with you will be just as profitable...to both of us.Ó With that he rose and walked from the room.
Ripp grinned widely at his men, ÓHe was nice, Ôeh?Ó they all chuckled. They left the huge house and headed back to the Wyrm along the road they saw two small children, a boy and his younger sister, standing next to a wide open-topped box looking expectantly at the foreigners.

Ripp saw them grinned and headed their way his ponytail bouncing as he walked. ÓÕello sir, would you like a Slinker kit? Umm...uhh..they be real cheap!Ó The elf captain looked over the box to see a wolf sized weasel-ish creature four smaller ones suckling on her belly. ÓOh,Ó he said, Óand what do they do?Ó

The young boy thought for a second and replied authoritivly, ÓTheyÕre hunters sir, real fierce like,Ó and almost as an after thought, Óbut real loyal die for their master they will. Ripp peered at the animals expertly and pointed to a big female kit with a dark splotch on the bridge of her nose, ÓThat one looks fierce, IÕll take her.Ó The little girl reached in and handed her to him and whispered at him, ÓGive her lots of fresh meat so she can be big and strong.Ó Ripp nodded seriously and turned to Uthor,
ÓGimme your coin purse.Ó
ÓWhaaat!?! ThereÕs at least 75 sans of coins in there! ItÕs mineÓ the startled youngster exclaimed.
ÓOh quit whinning and give it here.Ó Ripp didnÕt wait and deftly hit the bottem of UthorÕs hand and sent the coin purse in the air, he snatched it and handed it to the youngsters. With a jaunty salute to the kids still gapeing at what the odd pointy eared man had given them, Ripp and his crew returned to the Sea Wyrm. The Slinker kit tucked in the folds of RippÕs robes.


NEW ADDITION STARTS HERE
Soon they reached the ship and sure enough elk, wolf, and even Slinker pelts were waiting in a great pile. The men had already brought out the metal had a constant guard on it till a trio of huge wagons pulled up, showed their pass, took on the metal and left. The pelts were loaded and the Sea Wyrm was under way. They were but a day out from Carabrand when the lookout in the crowsnest called that what looked like a Kar-ii ship was coming on the, fast.

ÓI donÕt like this at all.Ó Ripp muttered to himself. He turned to Uthor who was standing next to him, ÓTell the men to ready the ballistas, the sea says that these men wish us ill.Ó Uthor look quizically at Ripp when he said Óthe sea saysÓ, he had heard the captain was an odd one but that was just plain weird! He then noticed the captainÕs hand he had seen the compuss before but now one of the needles was spinning madly! Then a flaming ball of pitch flew from the Kar-ii ship and hissed in the icy water off the port bow.

The Stormson ship closed on the Sea Wyrm their own ballistas alternating between flaming pitch and giant spears. The Wyrm returned fire but its 2 smaller ballistas were not ment for battle as the Stormson shipÕs were. A great spear flew threw the air at deck level and slammed through three men. Just then Ripp yelled out in a deep voice, ÓYou have chosen battle with a foe you donÕt comprehend. You have broken a bond of seamen and so the Baveras condems you to her depths!Ó Some of the older men took heart in these words but the newer ones were terrified at what their jovial captain had become. Ripp turned to Uthor, his eerie white eyes stared at the young seaman. ÓFight on! I go and bring the fight to the enemy.Ó then his old grin returned but there was maddness behind it waiting to be let free!

Storm heard the booming words come from the trader ship and for the first time in a long time he knew fear. But as all Stormsons he pushed it aside and ordered to prepare to board the other ship. Grappling hooks flew from the pirate ship and grabbed on to the Wyrm the men tried to cut them away but enough caught ahold and the two ships closed on each other.

Ripp stepped off the edge of the ship to the horror of his men, but then a plume of water rose and met his feet and he began to walk across the space between the ships. He tossed of his robes and he soon stood on the rail of the Stormson ship men on both sides gaping. His sinewy muscles rippled he lept high in the air as he came down his staff whipped out infront of and the steel cap caught a pirate in the temple and he fell to the deck his skull crushed. RippÕs free hand twisted then flew forward in a tightly curled fist, a fist of water rose and flew but a ped from where he stood straight at one of the balistas on the ships deck, blasting it and its crew off the boat. By then the two ships were side by side balistas to close to be of any use. The Stormsons had recovered from their surprise and retaliated. The druid fought as a elf possesed, his staff snapped in front of as he swung with is right hand it stopped abrubtly as it connected with pirates arm with an audible crack! His own men taking strenghth in their captains furious assault soon lept to the Stormson ship and fought beside their captain.

Uthor up in the riggings of the Wyrm scrambled like a spider in itÕs web soon he was as close to the tri-masted pirate ship as he could 50 fores from the deck. Grim determination on his face he swung to the other ships riggings. Catching his feet in the ropes he let himself fall, to hang upside down above the battle. He saw Dadrik cutting threw the smaller Kar-ii with his great axes. His Captain had whipped a number of long darts into and oncoming foe who fell to the deck, a dart in his neck. Focusing on the battle Uthor grabbed two daggers from the full bandolier which hung across his chest, snapping the two out in quick succesion each found their mark in a pirate chest.

ÓIÕm comming for you Storm!Ó RippÕs jovial manner had returned as he yelled this challenge to his foe. His sang a raunchy sea ballad as he let the ends of his Efyrst fall on their chains. Soon the chainstaff was moving faster than ever, the steel ends connected with vicious repeditdy. However soon his ranks of foes parted and there stood Storm, in his hands was the slender curved form of a Moonblade.

ÓThough you fight well my dear pointy eared warrior, you will not put down fighter such as I so easily.Ó the corner of the big manÕs mouth turned up into a cocksure grin. ÓI will order my men away for this fight but use your water powers again and they willl enter the frey.Ó
Ripp nodded, ÓFine but I know the reputation of your people, any use of a poison and all bets are off.Ó
ÓFair enough.Ó the big man replied.

The two crews both formed a ring around the two combatants. They circled each other slowly, each searching for a weakness of his enemy. Ripp attacked first, his Efyrst whirling. Swinging it in front with his right hand he stopped its motion with his left, and abruptly reversed its direction. Storm had easily ducked it on its first pass and was about to jab forward when the staff came back, level with his head.





A soft growl and then a louder whummp and the rat soon drew its last breath. Only a few months had passed yet ThrógÕevathón, Eva for short, had grown to her full growth of 1.2 peds almost as long as the elf was tall. No longer able to rest on RippÕs shoulders she trotted faithfully by his side. The crew had already grown to love her as she hunted the rats on the ship and that freed up at least 3 men at all times. She had grown used to warmer climes quickly and soon shed most of her fur, so she was a dusty brown color opposed to her winter, white. The Wyrm had grown to be a rich ship





Weaknesses
-Makes rash decisions
-Carries little armor
-Angers quickly and forgets himself in a rage
-Overconfident
-Tenacity and curiosity make him a little annoying
-Persistent

Strengths
-Druidic water crafting
-The skilled in the art of wielding a Efyrst, and a good dart thrower.
-Persistent
-Quite amiable to most.
-He knows much of the seas and the minds of pirates
-Speaks the language of the Dolpholk

Pet
-Cyhalloian Slinker named ThrógÕevathón, Eva for short


Possessions
-Efryst - Chainstaff
-large wooden darts with copper needles on the end
-His blue robes
-Belt Knife
-Coin purse
-Large water canteen  

[SeverineHalo]

Name: Eryk Aisean

Gender: Male

Age: 22

Race: Human

Tribe: Centorarurians

Class/Title: Rider

Appearance: Eryk has tanned and weathered skin, the result of countless hours spent outdoors. He has a medium build, and is muscular especially in the legs, chest and arms. He stands 1.9 peds tall and weighs 1 pygee and 6 hebs. He has medium length black and dark brown hair, and it usually hangs down unless he ties it back. Eryk has a chiseled and prominent face. His eyes are a hazel color, light brown towards the pupil but deep green around the outside of the iris. Eryk has no tattoos, but does have a small scar down his left arm.

Personality: Eryk holds a generally cynical view of life. He appreciates it, but does not revere it like other races and tribes do. He does not fear death for himself, but instead fears for those he cares for deeply. He lives in the present, preferring to concentrate on what is happening around him. With other people, he is extremely outgoing and funny. He loves the spotlight, and shows off occasionally, but never brags. He is generally humble, something that almost contradicts his love of attention. While jovial, he is discipled when it comes to physical things, such as eating and exercising. In situations with women, he is somewhat awkward and embarrassed, but many women do appreciate his wit and personality. When angered, Eryk is generally quiet and withdrawn, preferring to let his problems work themselves out. Eryk also resents those who bring up his past without reason or out of context. He will leave rooms or became silently withdrawn when history is revived.

History: Eryk Aisean was born near Aerelian Lake. He lived on an estate large even for his people’s standards, consisting of 4 houses and 3 huge fields surrounding the living area. The estate was a few strals from the nearest village, with grassy meadows and occasional streams taking up the distance. A small river ran between two of the houses, ending in a pond half a stral from the properties. In one of the fields, his family planted grains, and in the other two, they raised cattle and horses. He had a large family, one of the reasons his family owned the 4 different establishments. The estate was self-sustaining, as vegetables and fruits were grown in small gardens and orchards around the houses. The houses themselves were very comfortable and to most, extravagant.
       Eryk was the youngest of his 7 siblings, 4 boys and 3 girls. He loved his brothers and sisters intensely, holding a different type of relationship with each. He also had a close relationship with his mother, but did not know his father as well as he would have liked, as his father was constantly working, even with the help of 4 boys.
       Eryk enjoyed his life, especially his horses. Every waking moment he had that wasn’t devoted to schoolwork or miscellaneous chores was spent in the stables and on the riding paths. By the age of nine, Eryk was an expert rider among men. He did not boast his skills vocally, but took every opportunity to hone and show off his skills. Eryk was trained to fight on horseback by his older brothers, and soon developed formidable skills with a longsword and bow.
       Some of Eryk’s best years were when he was 11. In one summer alone, he had learned how to fish, as well as developing an interest in the bow. His older brothers taught him to fish, showing him the best spots, the best way to bait a hook amogn other things. Eryk loved fishing, spending evenings ‘dunking’ in the small river that ran by his house.
       In the same year, Eryk also started to develop his archery skills. Even though he was fit and strong for his age, he did not have the strength to fully draw back larger bows, so was forced to use shortbows. He trained both on and off horseback. He preferred training on horseback, as he had to concentrate much harder, something Eryk viewed as a child. His riding skills helped him immensely during this period, as he was more in tune to his horse’s movements and the riding did not affect him as much as it might have. He became skilled for his age, though he still could not match up with those older then him.
       When Eryk was 16, he trained himself to use the traditional Centorarurian shortsword. His father had presented Eryk with two of the shortswords, a family heirloom that was always given to the youngest son, when Eryk was 11, but Eryk had been more interested in his bow and longsword. The shortswords were beautiful and finely crafted, the blades created out of mithril, the hilts of gilded steel and inlaid with an emerald. Every morning, he would do a training exercise to strengthen his legs and upper body, but then would go into the small, nearby forest and train with the shortswords. He would practice by himself, for hours, until he was too exhausted to stand.
       
       One such occasion was forever to be marked in Eryk Aisean’s past. He had gotten up early, and completed his exercises quickly. He had gone off into the forest eagerly, bringing his longsword and bow as well. He had been training for about an hour when he heard a cry. He startled, but quickly recovered, shouldering his bow and sheathing all three of his blades. He took off at a run, sprinting through the forest, towards his home. He arrived to death.
       All four buildings were burning, as was the grain field. He saw figures dressed in black scattering in all directions, moving through the ruins quickly. Raiders. Lately, there had been sightings of these cursed men around the village and general area. They had already murdered a small caravan. It was thought that they were after nothing other then money and riches, and for that, Eryk hated them. One strayed too close to Eryk. Dropping his swords, he notched an arrow. It flew true, the cold iron embedding itself in the figures back. The figure fell, and Eryk let out a cry and charged. Scooping up the shortswords, the boy, not yet a man, sprinted to defend his home. Two of the dark figures spotted him and drew rusted axes, charging forward silently. Eryk stopped, panting with rage, shortswords held with white knuckles as he waited for them. They were within a ped before he struck.
       It was over in less then a second. One of the men fell to the ground, his neck bleeding. The other staggered for a moment, the chest wounds open and gaping. Eryk cried out again. Six more of the figures turned and looked at the lone warrior.
       Let them come...
       They charged as one. Eryk did not care, and fought as though he was possessed. He lashed out with his swords, forgetting about his own safety, wanting only to avenge the fall of his home. He heard another voice, the voice familiar and recognizable. It was Willie.

       Perhaps this is a good time to interrupt the action to explain about this man. Willie was Eryk’s eldest brother. He was also Eryk’s favorite brother. Willie had taught Eryk to shoot, to fight, to walk, to breathe. Willie was an exceptional swordsman himself, having won several competitions throughout his lifetime. Willie was also a blacksmith, and a good one. He had forged his own longsword, one that was incredibly balanced and powerful. The blade was of steel, and the hilt was of a compound only Willie knew of, one that was developed by him through long hours spent in the sweltering heat of the forge. Eryk virtually inhaled his brother’s teachings, always yearning for more. The two were cliché brothers, the love for each other surpassing life itself.
       
       Willie charged, longsword in hand, towards the swirling melee around Eryk. His first stroke beheaded one of the assailants, and soon, he had fought his way to his younger brother’s side. They fought, back-to-back, as they had fantasized about so many times. Soon, it was over, the brothers having killed the attackers.
       Eryk turned.
       “Mother? Father?” he cried out desperately.
       Willie looked up at his brother with glassy eyes, the sadness in his soul shining through the two blue circles.
       “Tarick?”
       Willie shook his head again.
       “Emma?”
       Willie looked down.
       “Are there any?”
       “No.”
       The reality hit him. Eryk broke down.
       “We are...all?”
       “You are, little brother.”
       It was then that Eryk noticed the wound. Blood was seeping through Willie’s tunic. Panicking, Eryk ripped off his brother’s shirt. The gash was just under a fore in length, and penetrated the rib cage.
       “I’m sorry Eryk.”
       “No!” Eryk sobbed. “Don’t leave me alone!”
       “It is my time. Be proud and hold your head high brother. Take the sword.”
       Eryk glanced at the blade that he had envied only hours before. Now, it seemed so insignificant.
       “What can I do? You’ll get better Willie...I’m sure of it.”
       Eryk knew in his mind that Willie was dead, but his heart would not accept it.
       “I love you Eryk.”
       With that, Willie’s eyes closed, and his head fell limp into his brother’s arms. Eryk cried deep into the night.
       
       The following morning, the orphan buried his family. Upon each grave he placed a single oak seed. He returned to the ruins of his home, crying silently, each tear bearing the anguish one so young should not have to bear. For the last time, he walked over the grounds, and through the fields. They had taken anything of value before they had burned the houses. There were no weapons or objects that Eryk would have found useful. As for the herds, Eryk’s first impression was that the attackers had slaughtered what cattle they had not stolen. It looked like they had taken all of the hand-reared horses as well. He was proven wrong though, as he saw a single Rusik colt stumble out of the stables, whinnying for its mother who would never return.
       Eryk took the horse in his hand, whispering into its ear softly. The horse seemed to understand whatever it was that the man had said. It followed Eryk until it was strong enough to bear him. Eryk named it Willie.
       Eryk then left his homeland, both physically and mentally, forever. He traveled north, towards the fabled town of Nyermersys, carrying only his weapons and clothing. For 6 years, he traveled, honing his riding and combat skills. He became stronger and fitter than he ever had been. Over the 6 years, he met elves, dwarves, gnomes, halflings, orcs, half breeds and other strange and wonderful creatures. He developed a respect for the world and its beings, never ending a life without necessity or purpose.
       Every step he took was a tribute to his lost family. He traveled to be free from the burdens that had haunted him. Soon, he stopped agonizing over the past. From then on, he was an entirely different person. He focused on the present. He no longer traveled for his memories. He traveled for himself.

Occupation: None yet.

Weaknesses: Eryk is only human, so he does have some weaknesses. Eryk is not skilled using larger and longer weapons other then his longsword. This category includes axes, spears and javelins. Eryk also has no use or knowledge of magic. He does not know any types of magic or any lore, and cannot defend against such attacks. Eryk also isn't comfortable in forests or caves, preferring to be out on open plains where he can use his riding to an advantage. Likewise, Eryk does not know how to fight effectively in very confined areas. Eryk also never trained using shields or heavy armor. He does not know how to defend using a shield, preferring to parry or use his physical prowess to avoid attacks. When in armor, which is rare, Eryk is slow and akward, his skills greatly reduced.

Strengths: Eryk is a Centorarurian, and therefore is extremely skilled on horseback. He is an very good archer while on the move or while stationary, especially with his longbow. He is extremely skilled with the Centorarurian Shortsword, of which he carries two. He also owns a longsword which he can use to some extent, but is still training with. He is a very competent fighter with bladed weapons, on and off horseback. Eryk is in perfect harmony with his horse, able to almost predict each other's actions. Eryk also has limited healing skills, as he knows certain plants that can cure flesh wounds and poison. Eryk also has extremely fast reflexes, reflexes that have saved him countless times.

Possessions: Eryk normally wears leather riding pants and soft leather boots, as he is in the saddle much of the time. He also wears a cotton tunic, of which he has multiple pairs. He also owns a fur cloak and hood for bad weather. He owns two custom-made Centorarurian Shortswords, complete with scabbards. In addition, he owns a longsword and scabbard, as well as a longbow and quiver. For riding, he owns a saddle and saddlebag, as well as the basics. Eryk also owns a personal item. He has a steel armband, one that fits snugly around his upper bicep. The band was owned by his brother, and has the family proverb engraved upon it: “Mind, heart and body cannot be conquered.”

Animals/Familiars: Willie, a Rusik Horse.

[SeverineHalo]

Name: Tema el Corrido

Gender: Female

Age: 47 (should be human equivalent to 15)

Race: elf

Tribe: Aeolrhan elves

Class/Title: Wandering Idiot

Appearance: Tema comes to a height of 1.8 peds and weighs 9.4 hebs. Her hair color is light strawberry and when available dyed with blue leopard spots. It is cut short at the back of the neck and hair on the top of the head is grown out to fly about with movement and the wind. Her eyes appear large and are arranged in the colors of light blues.

She has yet to reach her full height and is agile on her feet. Like most Aeolrhan her body is lanky. Her skin always remains a shade of tan depending on how much sunlight she has been under with freckles dotting her checks, shoulders, and arms. She also has a small line scar across the bridge of her nose from a childhood experience. He face itself seems to be rounded atop a long neck.

Her ears at about three nail breadth long and rounded much like a cow’s. There is also a fine hair that can be seen a closer inspection. Three rings hang off her left ear. A few of these rings also have stones held in metal or string that dangle.

She wears what may have been a simple white shirt now reduces to frazzled ends and covered in an array of dyes that forever stain its surface. Over that she wears a slightly better taken care of, but still blotched with blue, leather vest with many hidden pockets where a faded rat brownie named Klein resides, among other things. She also wears frazzled shorts that also didn't escape the dark blue dye. The only piece of clothing in its natural color is a pair of plain leather boots. Hanging off of her main dagger’s hilt, affectionately called light for its gold streaked blade, are many chains and necklaces that jingle like notes of music. If she wants to be quite she will have one hand holding all of these trinkets to keep them still.

On an old worn silver chain is the goddess Nakashi riding valiantly on her Pegasus. The image was carved flat rather than a more proportionate likeness, yet despite this method to avoid breaking, a leg is missing and Nakashi's hair is chipped. The marble itself is covered in old dirt and grim from lack of cleaning. This is worn around her neck under her shirt.

Personality: Tema has an affinity for things that are small and cute, and would never let anyone hurt one. She tends not to take anything seriously and is always optimistic. She also appears very social. Although she may appear obsessed with treasure at times, she really just wants to return home. Occasionally she is suspicious of rocks that are against her life, but being easily distracted this doesn’t bother her much. She has a fascinated with shiny things and things that jingle like notes of music. Tema loves a reason to celebrate. She sometimes travels days just to b part of a festivity. Some may describe her as a little crazy, mostly because she seems to be obsessed with different things each day.

History:
In Aeruillin,

Tema was born into the tribe Aeolrhan. It wasn't uncommon to switch families or houses with other tribe people. It was customary. Tema had many parents, brothers, and sisters in her life. Tema often played with other young elves. She learned to swim in the ocean and how to find eatable desert plants. On one occasion running with the others she fell and cut the bridge of her nose on a sharp stone. She didn't move from the spot she fell or stop crying until well into the night when she finally got up and trudged home. No one noticed she had been gone all day and for years to come people of the Aeolrhan would suddenly exclaim about the scar on her nose in which they had ether just noticed it or suddenly remembered.

Her best friend and sometimes brother, Cáo, was the first in command of the little group of young elves. If Cáo said something they listened. Cáo stood at 2 peds and weighed about 1 heb. He had bright blonde hair, blue eyes, and a stocky appearance almost identical to Tema. Cáo also had a twin named Sýs, during the few times Tema saw him she had an eerie feeling that she was not wanted. For a short time Tema was leader, but she constantly wandered away from the others causing them to adopt Cáo as the leader. The two often shared thoughts together, often on how to trade for what. One was not often seen without the other.

Due to her wandering nature many of the other Elvin folk directed her towards other places of Aeruillin. The one that intrigued her most was the Hjoreian festivals. To get there she first set out on a ship to Nys, then she traveled through Phalagor, Aencherynth, then following the Dark sea of Aegyslam to Loth Zedhrill, Qelkanacor, Thybross, then resting and stocking up for a harsh journey across the Desert of Light. Tema finally arrived in Nythera. Was it maybe nearly a year ago that she left Shan'Furionnis? Finally eating some fresh food was a nice change. She would have done anything for a piece of sweet fruit, but that was not attainable so far away from the coast. Her next journey would be across the Plain of the Forsaken to finally arrive in Hjoreh.

Tema arrived in the night to southwest city of Hjoreh to find the people having a festival of sorts. She later found out that this was called the Festival of Light, the reason she had decided traveled so far. During the Festival of Light she was given a necklace in the goddess Nakashi's likeness from a Hjoreh. Tema had so much fun she devoted herself to the four gods. Tema was most attracted to Nakashi's kind and gentle nature and began on the path into that faith.

After nearly two years of wandering she finally returned to Shan'Furionnis. Tema found Cáo easily and there was much rejoicing.

One fine day at the trading docks Tema snuck aboard a trading ship simply amazed with a green glass orb. The tradesmen wouldn't trade it to her no matter her offer, but she just had to have it as her own! Unfortunately this day would be the last she saw of Aeruillin, as the ship set sail with out her notice as she had focused all her attention towards the sphere. Tossing it back and forth, until hunger began to set in. She suddenly realized that the ship was moving. But when had left? She looked on deck and the moon was high in the night sky. Dishearten she returned below deck and flipped open a barrel, which was full of fish. Having nothing against eating fish she consumed them until satisfied. She fell into a daily routine of sleeping, eating, and obsessing over the sphere this long journey to Ciosa, Sarvonia.

In Sarvonia,

Tema had to admit she had become a little sick during this adventure, but luckily she had some dried Alting cactus in one of her pockets. Although the cactus removed the nausea it did not help the feeling of traveling far from home.

The sun was just rising in Ciosa and the air was cool and moist. “You’re going back again right?” She inquired to a sailor on deck. Her eyes were pleading. The man turned slowly. Tema was a bit surprised to be taller than he was. “Sorry girl, but that was a one way expedition, we most like won’t go back fer years.” He didn't look at all sorry, but Tema didn't seem to notice. “Could you send a letter?” She looked back again with the most pleading eyes. “No! Ger of this ship!” There really wasn't any persuading this person so she reluctantly left.

She soon found out that there would be no way home unless she had a large quantity of gold. Having a sharp eye for shiny things she made money without trying, picking up loose coins and other trinkets dropped by travelers. Yet this would never be enough for a trip back home. She missed Cáo dearly, but it seemed as if she would never see him again. She had only just got back! This was the second time she cried.

While at an inn in the city of Santhala she had accidentally dropped a ring down a sink. Getting out a fishing hook and string she idly tried to fish up her ring from the pipe. What she pulled up was not something she expected. She brought up a faded rat brownie. Never seeing one before, she became obsessed with it and completely forgot about the ring. Tema called him Fae but learn later that his real name was Klein once he became accustomed to the common language.

Occupation:
Although quite good with spears, her preferred weapon is the dagger. Usually using her main dagger Light to fight enemies, she has many more in her pockets made especially for throwing. Sometimes willing to be hired for treasure hunts, she hopes to find the money to sail home.

Weaknesses:
Her aim with daggers might be deadly accurate, but her skill with a bow might be deadly to anyone in the vicinity. If able to hold it properly where it would be shot is anyone's guess. For everyone's safety she tends to shy away from bows. The same goes for swords and other similar weapons.

Tema is known for being clumsy. If its not banging her head on the doorway then its tripping on the threshold.

Seeing things hurt severely whether physical or mentally brings down her self-esteem when she is not able to help it. This can at times make her uncooperative to other people.

Tema cannot defend from magic unless possible with a shield.

Strengths:
She aims well when it comes to daggers and seems to have an inborn sense for the use of a shield even though she hardly carries one.

Tema is agile and speedy, which works with her small design. She also has the ability to jump very well to about 2/3s her height.

Although not trained in hiding, the ability to escape quickly is almost as useful.

Living near the shore she can swim fairly well.

Has great endurance of desert climates and also knows of many eatable desert plants

Possessions:
Tema wears a vest in which she can carry all weapons and possessions. One of the bigger pockets is the home of Klein, while the other large pocket is home to throwing daggers. Other pockets might include currency, fishing hooks and string, gems, and other trinkets or food.
She has a dagger hidden in each of her boots.
Her two prized possessions are Light her fighting dagger and a necklace of silver with a centerpiece carved in white marble.

Companion:
Klein is a male Faded Rat Brownie. Once a part of the Deathwalkers until a turn of fate brought him to the surface, he has abandoned his old beliefs after learning of the outside world. He has come to the conclusion that even for sacrifice the deaths of his own race wouldn't help the Deathwalkers out their troubles. He also knew that the Deathwalkers would not change their ways as easily as he did. This was one of the things he pondered while riding in Tema vest pocket. For reasons unknown to him he is frequently called Fae.
Klein is almost always pessimistic and comes off as a bit bitter to others. He wears the skin of a mouse, a dingy shirt, and pants to match. His choice weapon is the spear, which is adorned with one small-dirtied purple feather of a Blue Glitra feather. This is this prized possession, not of its color or beauty but because of its soft texture.  

[SeverineHalo]

Name : Penrith
Age : 23
Race : Human
Height : 1.8 peds
Weight : 2 pygge
Class : Hand-to-hand fighter, he wrote the book on dirty tricks

Appearance :
Penrith is well, I guess you could say, somewhat average height. He weighs, I guess he's a little on the skinny side, but he likes to think he's muscular. He has a friendly face, with soft features, in the face he looks almost elven, but he wouldn't like to hear that. His blondish-brown hair is pretty short, that's just because.

His clothes are always bedraggled; it looks like he always just came from a fight. His hair is naturally messed up, no matter what he does, which is pretty much nothing, it doesn't look normal.

Personality :
He's a friendly man, well, sorta, although he likes to pick fights. He's somewhat scattered and disorderly, just like his appearance. His favorite thing to do is find someone that doesn't like him, them use anything he can to beat them to a bloody pulp. He'll kick, punch, bite, head butt, anything (sometimes even spit)! He doesn't dislike very many people, he'll fight his best friend, just for the heck of it. The fighting usually get him in trouble with the law, and so he doesn't like them, any kind of person chasing him he doesn't like.

Possessions :

-1 green shirt, somewhat tattered and worn

-1 pair of darker green pants, also tattered and worn

-A green cape with large hood, alittle darker than the shirt

-Various unimportant items

Strengths :

Penrith is a great dirty fighter. He's good at using his environment around him to win a fight.

People tend to like to be around him, until he starts to hurt them.

Weaknesses :

Penrith is pretty much horrible with weapons. He can sometimes use boxes and other similar items to his advantage tough.

Penrith is not very smart, partly because of all the head-butting.

He isn't organized at all. Penrith does carry many things with him anyways.

History :
Penrith was born to a Caltharian family. And like most of his people he was fair skinned and had a light colored hair. His father was from a long line of Caltharians, as was his mother. So they were very good at dying cloth and woodworking. His mother was a cloth dyer and his father was a woodworker. When Penrith was born he wasn’t pampered, but he wasn’t neglected either. His family was somewhat poor, because since almost everybody had the same job as them it was hard to sell their goods.
Penrith’s father wanted to him to get into a different business, mainly fighting people and stealing their money. Penrith’s father never told his mother, what he did tell her was that they went to the ‘shop’ so Penrith could learn ‘woodworking’. But where he really took him was to a thief, the most violent thief in all of Carmalad (although he loved children). So Raysol (the thief) taught him how to fight, starting when he was only a wee little tike at the age of five. Raysol taught him every trick of unarmed fighting, especially the dirty tricks. And soon Penrith excelled, well, if you say 10 years is ‘soon’.
When Penrith’s training was done, at age 15, he went out, to make money for his family.

A basic outline of one of Penrith’s ‘encounters’


As Penrith was walking down the streets of Carmalad he saw a man with a big money pouch hanging from his side. Penrith smiled to himself then walked over and started to tease and taunt the man. He pointed out every thing he saw about the man that even looked remotely strange.
Soon the man got fed up with the teasing and lashed out at Penrith. Penrith didn’t expect that to happen and was caught full in the face with the man’s hand. He reached up and rubbed the spot with his hand, while the man punched him in the stomach. Penrith doubled over in pain, but soon jumped back quickly and kicked the man right in the groin. Then he lunged at the man and bit him the shoulder. Blood started to flow from the bite wound and Penrith spit out some of the blood.
The man started howling in pain and that brought out a large crowd, that gathered around the two. Next, Penrith grabbed the man’s head in his hands and slammed his head into the man’s. And while the man fell Penrith reached out and quickly nabbed his money pouch, completely unnoticed.
Penrith then spat on the unconscious man and said to the crowd, “He insulted my shoes!” And broke through the mass of people, and walked back home, money pouch in hand.
_____________________________


One week Penrith went the whole time without getting a single dime from a person. His father got mad and snarled. So Penrith kicked him in the groin, head-butted him, then walked out, chuckling to himself as he went. From then on, Penrith was on his own. He attacked people only when he felt like it now (he was by then 20). The rest of the time he went to bars and entertained people, sometimes he even practiced fighting. But he only practiced when he got bored and couldn't find anything else to do.

[Carolyn Marleo]

Name: Carolyn Marleo
Gender: female
Age: 24 (19 in appearance, 19 in skill, will live to 750)
Race: elf
Tribe: Is a mix between Aellenrhim and Tethinrhim

Occupation:
Member of The Black Butterfly Rovers, her occupation in the group a play writer, and she also writes books of her travels, last but not least she sometimes when she gets a chance she dances, usually a dance by herself but she is know to dance with a partner occasionaly.

Title: Traveling Novelist

Appearance:
Her eyes are a magnificent bright violet. Her hair is the color of the red in a deep sunset, or the color of glistening rubies. Her lips are lucious, and are a pinkish red naturally. She has a slender body, nice and curvy. Her eye lashes are long and they curl up. Her hair is a bit wavy with some ringlets scattered about. She weighs about 1 1/4 pygges(about 120 lbs), and is 1.7 peds in height ( 5' 7") .

-Clothes
She wears what is called a stylish, bandeau-style asymmetrical dress. It's torso is detailed by asymmetrical vertical lines of rubies. The layered skirt has an uneven hemline that creates a sheer chiffon tail. Open back is detailed with crisscrossing straps that tie. The color is a light violet and in this dress she looks like a farie, her feet are adorned with small look a like rubies,meaning fake red gems that look like rubies, which are glued onto her just at the ankle; the gems are large at the ankle and the get smaller as they go down to her foot making it look as if they are fading away( this is also at her neck too) and on her forehead is another diamond shaped red gem. Her feet are bare and no shoes cover them. She somtimes wears a poncho to keep her warm but thats about it.

Personality:
She is very free/open with her emotions, and has no problem with expressing what she feels toward others. She is very outgoing and she has a good , most times correct, feeling if your a lieing cheater or a kind hearted friend by just looking you over. How you ask...well because of all her experience with actual liars and cheaters, she knows by heart the facial expressions of her best friends so she can recognize it. Carolyn is very trusting to those who she knows best. She changes her mind about alot of unimportant things.

History:
An old womans wrinkly, but soft hands are upon Carolyns head. Carolyn is in a deep trance almost hypnotic. Her eyes are closed and she seems to be dreaming. The old woman's eyes are barely open for they are only little slits and hardly noticible. This old woman, by the name of Madame Maralyn, is the most talented seer in the clan of the Black Butterfly Rovers. She was there when they found Carolyn and Jenvieve under the shade of a tree. Nobody knows the past of this young elf, but you will once this seer has done her work...

Visions sprout in Madame Maralyns mind, a vision of being born, after that the faces of Carolyns parents, her father of fair skin, a rich gold red hair and slanted hazel eyes...her mother of a peachy complexion, light blonde hair and beautiful bright violet eyes. Both of them looking perfectly happy. A smile upon the mothers face, not a kind hearted smile but one of a sadistic witch. Her father a smile upon his face but it was one with starry eyes and fake jolly lips, he had the look of anyone who was under a love spell.

A blur of vissions swept through Madame Maralyns mind and she began to become dizzy, once the spinning mess stopped she realized that what she was seeing was an act of betrayal....Carolyns mother striked her father with a sword which blade is poisoned with certain herb....Madame Maralyn began to shake with a chill going down her spine...she had to concentrate, she thought to herself. The face of Carolyns father was swept away by a sort of fog and then he was erased completely, as if he just faded out of time.. A shrill cackle filled Madame M.'s ears and only she herd it for it was her vision. The cackle was from Carolyn's mother, and once Madame M. caught a good glims she could tell that a sinister aura was around her. That was the end of Carolyns father...

A vision of trees going past her very quickly was now in M.M.'s mind, she was veiwing, in Carolyn's perspective, her mother carring her and running in the forrest. Men shouting could be herd from behind her. Somewhere in Carolyns mothers heart there was some good and knowing the Telthrhim, who were shouting behind her, were going to kill her. Carolyns mother herd the wailing of a baby so she seeked it out and set Carolyn a quite baby next to her. Obviously people are not very considerate of their children. She knew the wailing would distract the elves after her so she ran.

More visions past of a night sky passing by, meaning a day had pasted, the human baby next to Carolyn was near death from starvation. Warm hands pressed on Carolyns cheek, she was being picked up, and so was the wailing baby, who went silent as her lips were upon the breast of the young woman who now also fed Carolyn. This woman who held the two of them was a human girl of 19, by the name of Adaline. She was a runaway noble looking for love and a place where she fitted in. The lady who looked down at the babys and nursed the two of them as she walked through the forest looking for the sorce of music she herd.

A vision of brightly dressed people dancing around a warm fire flew across M.M.'s mind. Laughter and singing and that enchanted music filled Madame Maralyn's head. A party was going on because of their newcomer, Adaline, and her two babys. Once all three of the newcomers where tattoed they were officially in the clan.

Visions of groth came in Madame Maralyn's mind and she saw a little todler with red curly hair and violet eyes playing with what looked like the toddler of the wailing baby. They were playing a game the traditional "cops and robbers"...sneakness involved. Another vision came and it was of Carolyn being teased by older boys, they taunted at her about not knowing her past and how they knew theirs.

Voices spoken in different languages and by different people echoed through M.M.'s head, showing that Carolyn learned most of the languages she knows from fellow clan members. More visions of growth went in M.M.'s mind and she saw Carolyn loking as a young teenager. Carolyn was dancing eroticly in circles around a boy her age. Their eyes locked together, and they drew closer. This boy was Carolyns first kiss. They became best friends and kept their secret kiss to each other. They scrept out at late times in the night going off in adventures while visiting towns and Michael taught her how to sneek through alleys and glide through home like like water glides down a water glides down a creek. He taught her eveything she knew about beeing sneek and sometimes when they snuck out they had some "fun" together.

Visions of small children and a wagon. A cat staring up at Carolyn in the arms of Adaline. The cat jumped on Carolyn's shoulder licking her cheek. The children in her wagon sleeping on the benches she had built in. And a horse trotting over, black as midnight. Jenvieve, the now 19 yearold version of the wailing baby was getting the horse attached to the wagon.....

Madame Maralyn took her hands off of Carolyns heard and looked off into space. Carolyn awoke feeling abit groggy. " Madame... how was it...was it a god vision?" M.M just stared off into space. Carolyn began to worry if M.M. was paralyzed or something' " Madame!! Are you well? Did you seem my future do I make it to my destination do I find my love, do I dies early...what is it that is wrong why must you be so silent?" Madame M. finnally looked Carolyn in the eyes both of their eyes locked onto eachother. "Mr dear.." sadi the seer in a coaked voice," my dear..calm down now....nothing of the sort came through my visions.....I saw only what Ava meant for me to see....and that was the truth.." Carolyn looked abit puzzled and wondered what on earth this old elf was tlaking about. M.M. spoke before Carolyn could reply,"I saw your past my child and tis not a good one..You moth-" M.M was interuptted by Carolyn who was nearly shouting,"MY MOTHER!!!!! You..saw my mother?!?!?! Is she kind? Is she well? What does she look like??"

M.M. just shook her head and raised her hands to cover Carolyns babaling mouth. "Alas! Peace and quite, do not bombard me of question I can only find in the future when I have only seen YOR past! You mother is the reason for you fathers death and is the rreason for you birth and well I will tell one more thing she is still livving this day.....for I know her.....She was dear to me when I was young but she left us and became a witch who's intentions were not good...she casted a love spell upon you father and got what she wanted from him and then sent him to oblivion....." Carolyns eyes were wide she had not expected this. "I will tell you no more my child but I shall write it down to you and give it to you as a going away gift.....I only hope that you may habndle yourself on your trip to well.....you know with the children and all, You can handle yourself...." And with that Madame Maralyn sent Carolyn out of her tent....

The following week it was time for Carolyn to leave the clan to part her ways and go out on her own for awhile to experience what life is like on your own...away form a HUGE group of people and living with only a few. Madame MAralyn gave her the book that was title Carolyn Marelo, which to this day Carolyn has never read. Adaline who is now a old wrinkily woman gave her a sash that was a light purple and had jingiling coin on it. Jenvieve was going with her and the same with Michael. The three of them making a remakable duo of friendship!


Strenghts and Weaknesses:
-Strengths
She can be sly and clever, and also sometimes unforgiving. Justifies people of betrayal. She has the ability to move silently in the night, to move stealthily through shadows and get what she needs quickly. The bonds she forms can't be broken, this could cause some annoyance to other who do not want her to bond with them. Well educated by the woman who raised her, who was of nobility and had ran away for love, to join the butterfly rovers. She writes magnificent play/stories and is an excellent dancer. Carolyn knows many different languages.

-Weaknesses
She is an outcast. Is thought by other who are not in her low class, as vermin and she is hated by most nobles. She has problems breathing sometimes (an equivalent could be something along the lines of asthma) and has to enhale a mist that one of the healers in her group of rovers has made for her. She is an orphan so she is vundereable about teasing of her cluelessnes of her heritage. She is not at all physically strong, but she has a will power like no other, meaning she's got a strong will. Last but not least carolyn has a phobia of being in small spaces so she is barely found in a wagon or closet, therefor she normaly sleeps outside by the fire or in the arms of a fellow friend while on horseback.

Weapons:
- a common dagger, in a sheath which has a butterfly painted on th handle in black paint.

Belongings:
She has a wagon of her own and lets the youngest sleep in it. She owns basicly everything in the wagon; including handwoven blankets and feather filled pillows. She owns washing utensils such as a couple bars of soap, and some vases of perfumes. Jingiling jelrewy, and extra clothes.

Familiars:
Her midnight black Rusik Horse, named Candiri.
The children in her wagon.
- Mandy/elf/female/3 years old
- Jena/human/female/9 years old
- Alex/human/male/7 yeears old
- Cody/elf/male/13 years old
A Brendolian Cat, by the name of Elanor.
Jenvieve, her best friend who she was found laying beside once found by the black butterfly rovers.
And Michael who is another one of her bestfriends, he was her first kiss and she sometimes sleeps in his arms, like Carolyn he is an orphan as well Jenvieve too.


Other bits and bits of explanation:
Her mother was of course a young elf and was orphaned into the Black Butterfly Rovers, raised in it and well.. she had a child of her own name Maralyn. She raised her daughter till she was 16 and she then left the Black Butterfly Rovers to go find something that more suited her. As you know from reading Carolyns history, her mom killed her dad with poisoned sword!!!! She got the poison and the sword while she was still with the Black Butterfly Rovers. The reason for this is because her mother sorta went coo coo and well ya get it she became insane sadistic and well last but not least a witch with evil powers. She waited 20 years in solituted with nothing but the confines of herself, and there she practiced magic and schemes. One day while out she was caught by a Telenrhim male elf. She seduced him so she could get away freely and well her little lovespell backfired on her she had made it toooo strong. So he followed her everywhere and ewanted to know what she was thinking all of the time. So she took what she wanted from him through pleasure thus causeing her to become pregnant again, she then held Carolyn in her stomach. And how Her mother was in the Telinrhims forest is because while traveling with the Black buterfly Rovers they were near that forest when she left them and she settled by the forest amd well thats my "good explanation" for that coincidence.

Now for Madame Maralyn, she was also known as M.M for I got tired of writing her name over and over!

Carolyn Marleo's Identity Revealed

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