Throndir - Character List

[Throndir]

Table of Contents

Active

• Elias (Edwin) Ames - Living Doll
  
• Belgi Glimmina Longarm - Dungeon Questor
  

Inactive - Detailed (3+ paragraphs and formatting)

• Vaen Elderon
  
• Lance
  
• Everail Lithand
  
• Falandaeus Elthallen
  
• Cyrus Liaron
  
• Ilumain Aldavir
  
• Emmeline Siadon
  
• Throndir Adelin
  

Inactive - Semi-detailed (2+ paragraphs and/or formatting)

• Elias
  
• Celendel Siadon
  
• Annia Siadon
  

Inactive - Not detailed (1 paragraph description and no formatting)

• No Sheet Characters
  
• Pelena
  
• Landen
  
• Fang
  
• Rylan
  
• Calar
  
• Pend
  
• Dria
  
• Orn
  
• Gorran
  
• Inara
  
• Zylor
  
• Ko'tan
  
• Bunduseel
  
• Gavelen
  

Inactive - One liners (Just a single line)

• One liners
  
• Charlene Estelle le Noir de Jouillat
  
• Liana Amarir
  
• Serlathine
  

[Throndir]

Name: Edward (Elias)
Quote: "Well met good lady."
Occupation: Travelling performer (music, ventriloquism, magic tricks)
Other Skills: Puppet-crafting, juggling
Age: 24
Hair: Dark
Eyes: Light brown
Height: Tall
Possessions: Liza (doll), locked chest of items, wagon, two black Shire horses, mandolin, magic tricks bag, other items (to be decided).
Background Story: Orphaned by a master doll maker at an early age, Edward had always been interested in his father?s trade, that and the magic tricks he had seen street performers showcase from time to time. Years under his master's tutelage have taught him many things, and though his master taught him the ways of doll-crafting, in his spare time Edward practiced simple magic tricks; It was a hobby of his as he learned to carve wood or shape clay to make the dolls. Edward was always bright, smiling as he went about his task, happy to help his master or even enjoy the tricks he had seen he himself or others perform.

It was like this for many years until one day tragedy struck. His master, the person who had adopted him, died suddenly, quick and mysteriously as he was found dead one morning. Edward was still young when it had happened, and all he had left to fall back on were the small magic tricks he had started years ago. He stopped venturing into his master's shop, or even touch any of his old carpentry, wood tools, clay, and moldings to create dolls.

For a year after the event, Edward lived sullenly until a travelling band of performers, seeing his display of magic tricks, took him under their wing; he was given the stage name Elias. As Edward matured and grew with his newly found family, thoughts his old mentor, who had taught many things and still considered to be his father, continued to haunt him. Nevertheless he kept an open spirit and mind, never losing the sly smile he had always carried with him. But for the ones that really do know him, they'll see the almost sad whisper behind his eyes.


Name: Edward (Elias)
Quote: ""
Race: Human
Age: 18-24
Summary:
Personality:
Background Story: Orphaned by a master doll maker at an early age, Edward had always been interested in his father?s trade, that and the magic tricks he had seen street performers showcase from time to time. Years under his master's tutelage have taught him many things, and though his master taught him the ways of doll-crafting, in his spare time Edward practiced simple magic tricks; It was a hobby of his as he learned to carve wood or shape clay to make the dolls. Edward was always bright, smiling as he went about his task, happy to help his master or even enjoy the tricks he had seen he himself or others perform.

It was like this for many years until one day tragedy struck. His master, the person who had adopted him, died suddenly, quick and mysteriously as he was found dead one morning. Edward was still young when it had happened, and all he had left to fall back on were the small magic tricks he had started years ago. He stopped venturing into his master's shop, or even touch any of his old carpentry, wood tools, clay, and moldings to create dolls.

For a year after the event, Edward lived sullenly until a travelling band of performers, seeing his display of magic tricks, took him under their wing; he was given the stage name Elias. As Edward matured and grew with his newly found family, thoughts his old mentor, who had taught many things and still considered to be his father, continued to haunt him. Nevertheless he kept an open spirit and mind, never losing the sly smile he had always carried with him. But for the ones that really do know him, they'll see the almost sad whisper behind his clear blue eyes.

Name: Elias
Quote: ?Good day milady? *grinning as he makes a formal bow*
Race: Human
Age: 18 ? 24
Summary: Travelling magician who collects all sorts of queer objects.
Personality: Practical, puts on a show, formal bows, etc
Background Story: Elias has been travelling for as long as he can remember. His parents being travelling merchants took Elias with them to all of their escapades and ventures. It was during these times when Elias developed an interest in ?magical? things. Though he thought of them as magical, they were more often than not simple clever tricks, or sleight of hand which fools onlookers. When he had become old enough to travel by himself, he took to the road just like his parents. Though he would still trade and make commerce, he has an eye for peculiar and strange items. Dabbling into more ?taboo? arts such as alchemy, magic, and poison making, he nevertheless kept an open spirit and mind, never losing the sly smile he had always carried with him.

The Bet

Name: Edwin
Quote: ?You don?t think I can do it??
Age: 18+
Summary: Guy who loves challenges. Smart, athletic.
Personality: Courageous, willpower, lots of drive, loud. Those words describe Edwin perfectly. There aren't that many things that will leave Edwin still for long, as he always seems to have a knack for finding something to do. He can seem very busy, but don't let that fool you, there are times when even he has to slow down and can be found sitting at his favorite bench near the train station just enjoying the sights and sounds. That said however, he prefers the rush of getting something done; it has instilled in him a sense of doing things that others might not due to lack of courage. Edwin can be seen working hard on tasks; giving everything he sets out to do his all. Though there are many times that he fails, he always picks himself right up and tries again. In the classroom he's known as the over-achiever, busy, athletic and smart, but still friendly to those whom he meets. He grins often times, and rarely does he do anything else, though the few times he does smile, people around him notice.
Background: Edwin had always loved challenges. Ever since he was a small child he would always do things that were beyond his capabilities (or so people would say), but to him they weren't (as he would say). This of course lead to quite a rough and dirty life as his parents and sister had always pulled him out of messes (more often than not it involved dirt as well as painful bruises). Of course he would claim that he had always been able to handle it. Life went on like this for Edwin, always striving and completing any challenge that he can find. Year after year he joined club after club. He was in every sport, every academic team, every extracurricular activity that offered any sort of challenge he had accepted. That said he eventually stopped a particular activity after a point, making time for those that he truly enjoyed. But it's still common to see him joining a club or activity or a game just from someone's request. His willingness to help and to always keep trying has earned him some admirers, though Edwin, being as daft as he is, never truly noticed, and it's hard to say if romance has ever entered the young man's mind.

[Throndir]

Characters without a sheet

(I might make them of these if ever I include them into a game project, a story, or a roleplay.

Ideas from San.


Pelena - The eager Human Cadet

"Mmhmm... Almost got it... Yes! This works perfectly!"
Once a student of the High Magus Tower, Pelena has always been the student who overachieves and tries to do the best in her power. For her age, she surprisingly can outwit most of the elder mages of the tower, and many an Archmage can see her potential. She may seem a little bit overconfident, spontanious, and a little rash in her decisions, but she is always willing to learn from others. She always tries to look in the bright side of things, and absolutely despies fighting. Her training at the High Magus tower came to an abrupt stop, when it was attacked by fellow mages, including Pelena's mentor, Falgon. No one can say why the wizards attacked their own fortress, but it was later recalled by witnesses that the mages soon traveled northwards, mouth drooling, and an orange glint in their eyes. Knowing Pelena's loyalty to her old mentor, the other Magi told Pelena not to go after them. And although she hates traitors as much hates creepy crawling bugs, she took it into her own hands, and resisting the others' will, she fled northwards, searching for those others. And hopefully, find out and what was happening to them.

Landen - The charismatic Human Rogue

"Alright! Hold on... Does it involve girls?"
A womanizer and flirter, Landen is the one to make light of serious things. Never taking anything seriously, Landen usually would rather have fun, then do any real sort of work. Especially when it comes to the opposite sex. Always bragging and boasting that it was he that slayed the dragon, and not his powerful companions. Landen is one to always think and act fast, although he may sometimes do rash decisions, his actions are always beneficial. Despite his "All for one, and one for one" attitude, he will always stick up for his friends. Even if it means charging head on towards a dragon's lair.


Gavelen - The boisterous Human Bard

"I CAN KILL THE BANDITS YOU JUST WATCH!"
Gavelen always had an easy life, but if you ask him, he'd tell you that his life is full of intrigue and dangers. He would then ramble on about a fight between him and a huge ogre, and having himself as the victor. Although his stories may seem a little bit too "out there", he can surpsingly convince many people that his deeds were true. By slyly including a few not well known facts in his stories, he convinces the people who know those facts to be true. Gavelen always puts up a smile, even through the most dangerous of missions, and it is not uncommon of him to charge in the front lines along with the grizzled battle veterans. More a loudmouthed, than a fighter, Gavelen is the one to always motivate his friends in a time of trouble.


Fang - The sinister Konarian Assassin

"Who's next?"
Once framed for the death of one of his companions, Fang took off to spite those who acused him. He became an assasin. Killing for the highest bidder. Respected and even feared by other Konarian sword fighters, Fang was able to make many friends, as well as enemies. It was this fact that lead to the assassination of one of Fang's companions, a political leader of their city. Through misunderstandings, and inaccurate eyewitness accounts, Fang was soon sentenced to die. Property was taken. Title was stripped. Fang escaped.

Rylan - The ambitious Aldarian Archmage

"Now tell me, you're smart for your race aren't you? What's the point of that!"
Being a powerful mage and ranking as one of the few most skilled wizards of the Aldar can give a person the belief he's all-powerful. That small thinking can eventually grow, and in the case of Rylan, he viewed everyone else who couldn't cast a spell as inferior. And even if they could cast a spell or two, they were nothing if they weren't Aldar. Rylan wasn't always like this however, once in his past, he dreamed of learning the ways of magic, and of visiting the 'other races', of understanding how they are, and why the Aldar believe they are so superior to them. He was young, but for an Aldar, magic came naturally. For Rylan, it was something he had to work hard for, he struggled even to cast a simple light spell, when already his friends could easily cast balls of fire. But with determination and the willingness to go beyond, he was finally accepted as an Archmage. Although he may seem overly egotistical, calling everything inferior to himself, still a small part of him exists where he still has that wonder about the 'other races'. Telling himself that he should tell the whole world how powerful a mage he was, he broke away from the isloation of Topaz Downs, and descended upon the ground dwelling peoples. He viewed the other races with scorn, contempt, disgust, but even with all those destructive thoughts, if he thought about it, he would also find hope.

Calar - The mysterious Frone Healer

"Please... Stay away from... Me."
Having her own parents die from a strange plague that only seemed to affect those whom she meets. She went off to find some sort of remedy for her situation. She found her answer in the form of a necklace, which she noticed when worn, the people she met with did not fall ill to the plague, however, it was not completely removed, when she has physical contact with others, they still recieve the illness. This lead to Calar covering her hands with gloves and head with a thick cowl. As a Frone, her wings make her stand out in a crowd, and naturally, younger kids would want to touch her wings. Preventing a future death, she instead folded her wings tightly within her robes, and avoided as much contact as she can with other people. Seeking out answers to her mysterious ailment, Calar dreams of the day when she can hold again another's hand.

Pend - The chaotic Dark Dwarven Berserker

"Do that again! I'll smash your' head!"
Pend hates everything. But he mostly hates little small woodland creatures. During a preperation for an attack against the Trolls, a small squirrel-like creature jumped on Pend, startling him. He tripped and fell right into the army commander. And as far as battle regiments are concerned, one never stumble against the general. Especially if he's a Dark Dwarf.

Dria - The shy Sea Elven Psionicist

"Just as the silent will rarely speak, the isolated will rarely learn."
One of the few Sea Elves who decided that isolation was not the way to live. She decided to lend her hand in helping the many causes of the world of land.

Orn - The noble Deep Orcen Barbarian

"The duty of the strong, is to oppose those who threaten the weak."
Uncharacteristic of his people, Orn had too much sympathy and honor. When a group of human explorers entered the Deep Orcen homelands, he showed them a way out. For this Orn was banished.

Gorran - The gruff Daldor Sniper

"C'mon! Damn lil beasty! get in TARGET!"
Hating small woodlands creatures, Gorran made it his priority to hunting down every last one of them. For what reason? No idea, go ask him.

Inara - The mischevious Deep Gnome Engineer

"The Deep Gnomes may have explosive tempers, but I have explosives."
Deep Gnomes are a strange race, always on the move, always thinking up of something, and always yelling at someone if they're not doing any of the others. Inara is no exception, except in the case that she went a little bit too far in one of her inventions.

Zylor - The free spirited Dark Elven Patrol Leader

"Hah! No such thing! Watch this!"
Having a strange combination of moral duties, Zylor usually finds that he is an outcast from the other races. But that doesn't stop him to do the things he likes. Zylor cares for no one but himself, as long as if someone or something benefits him, he'll hold on to it.

Ko'tan - The dark Tzokian Wilter

"How do you feel... now?"
Ko'tan loves nothing more than finding little creatures that he can 'play' with. Though of course, to most other races, torturing, burning, and the like would not at all be considered 'play'.

Bundussel - The scheming Moutain Gnome Infuriator

"Ahhh! How much longer do I have to put up with your stupidness!"
What Bundssel loves more than making fun of Trolls, or mixing vomit in with soup, is a bowl full of butterscotch pudding.

[Throndir]

Name - Vaen Elderon

Title - "Vaen the Blind" from the villagers of Bali, "Elderon Flashstrike" from fellow Dark Knights, "Vaen the Veteran"

Quote - "Patience. You will soon learn."

Wins - 0
Ties - 0
Losses - 0

Race - Human

Class - Dark Knight/Sword Dancer

Alignment - Lawful Neutral

Homeland - Retired at: Bali Village, Korinthian Kingdom, Elodria. Birthplace is unknown.

Major God - None
Minor God - None

Languages - Common, Dlagrah (Orken and Drakos Language), limited Cerin (Dwarven and Gnome language)

Age - 52

Sex - Male

Height - 5"11'

Eyes - Hazel Brown

Hair - Muddy Brown

Weapons - Like every Dark Knight of the order, he carries a greatsword strapped on to his back. However, unlike his brethren, he prefers the use of a curved blade, a scimitar. A most uncommon trait for a Dark Knight, even a retired one.

Weapon Profinciency - Single Weapon Fighting

Armor - When once he wore the heavy and protective armor of the Dark Knights, now he wears a torn and grimy shirt with breeches just as rugged. However, in battle, he dones a darkened chainmail specifically crafted for him back when he was a Dark Knight over his dirtied shirt, he also wears a pair of black leather gloves, and matching boots.

Other - On his right index finger he wears a ring hidden from view by his gloves. When asked about it, he prefers to avoid the question, simply ignoring the intrusion.

Major Abilities - His sense of perception, strange as it may be, is as sharp as if he still had his sight. Being able to deflect arrows with precise movements, and parry blows that would have leveled any other man, the old veteran is as strange as his demeanour. Because of his apparent blindness, sometimes wearing a blindfold covering his eyes or uncovering them, to reveal his blindness, he is usually underestimated by more younger warriors, a failure that could cause one to lose one's life.

Background - Once a Dark Knight, Vaen decided to retire from the ways of his dark past after losing much of his eyesight from an accident he would rather not share. Instead he uses his time teaching many aspring fighters, in the guise of a trainer. Although he may be blind, Vaen can outmatch and out manuever most opponents. He doesn't know how or why humself, but he suspects it is due to his long service as a Dark Knight. Although Vaen can hide his emotions behind a mask of stoicness, his eyes, when uncovered by the blindfold, betray that he has been through a lot. Even after all these years, something still bothers the old veteran.

[Throndir]

Name - Lance. Real first and last name is unknown. After emerging out from a cavern, and soon meeting a band of travellers who were transporting a variety of contest weapons, one such as the lance, they soon encountered a group of dark dwarves meaning to take their possesions. Lance quickly dispatched them, and was congratulated by the caravan leader, who joked, "just like a lance! Killed every damn bunch of 'em!". Lance soon took the name as his own.

Title - None

Quote - "Silence"

Wins - 0
Ties - 0
Losses - 0

Race - Human

Class - Duskblade. A user of both sword and magic.

Alignment - Chaotic Good

Homeland - A traveller. Birthplace is unknown.

Major God - ?
Minor God - ?

Languages - Common

Age - Unknown, by his looks, one can guess about 25 - 30.

Sex - Male

Height - 6"1'

Eyes - Brown

Hair - Black

Weapons - Evoreil, Arvorial. Two blood-stained blades Lance remembered finding in his own hands. Each sword has it's name engraved in the blade of the sword. Completely identical to each other, the blades are exactly the same in design. But the enchantments placed on each blade are very different. Evoreil is enchanted to immediately warn the wielder of incoming danger, an early warning for arrows, stabs and slashes. While Evoreil is designed to be defensive, Arvorial is more offensive in nature. It is said that Arvorial could cut through and solid stone as if it were air. Another enchantment that Lance noticed is that it will allow only Lance to wield the blades. It will producing a mental attack on any owner's unwanted hands. more than a few curious thieves found themselves unconscious on the floor while Lance silently stood by, observing at their apparent stupidness.

Weapon Profinciency - Two Weapon Fighting

Armor - A simple man when it comes to attire, Lance only wears what is needed. He has no set clothes he goes out with and usually throws away his current attire to buy a cleaner and more fitting set. When it comes to battle, Lance prefers just a set of leather armor.

Other - None

Major Abilities - The earliest memories that Lance can remember was being inside a dark and deep cavern, surrounded by bodies of orcen, with two glowing blades in his hands. Before that, Lance cannnot recall any of his past memories, his age, his heritage, and even his own name. However, after getting out of the cavern, and being attacked by a group of thugs who thought him as a weak and lost traveller. Lance found that he was able to sense every movement of the thugs, every action, almost even predicting their very moves before it happened. Not only that, at the moment the thugs surprised him, something triggered inside Lance, whether it be from something of the past, or an ability he acquired by himself, he was able to actually feel the universal energies around him. Unlike a mage who requires commands and words to form a spell, Lance can do it naturally, without the need of any excessive incantations or rituals.

Background - Shuns attention and people. Always trains to become the most skilled fighter in all of Elodria. Always direct to the point, and usually does not converse in idle chatter. Lance's past is unknown, mostly because Lance is a traveller, a blade moving from one town to the next, looking for jobs that suite him. Not only that, his unwillingness to share about his past adds to the mystery of his begginings. However, at times, he could be seen leaning by himself on a tree, thinking of the past. Some say he has lost his memories, or couldn't recall his past. However, to those that knew him, popular belief has it that he was once a fighter from a small army of the Ganden regions. When an army of Orcen came down to attack a village, that same small army held off. It was said that due to a single soldier, the army had prevailed. Singlehandely the soldier killed enough of the Orcen to put the scale into their own favor. When the commander heard and saw of his deeds, he went out to reward the young warrior. The soldier was no where to be found.

[Throndir]

Portrait:


Name - Everail Lithand

Title - None

Quote - "For honor! For glory! For *hic* MORE BEER!"

Wins - 0
Ties - 0
Losses - 0

Kills - 0

Adventures

Race - High Elf

Class - Paladin/Wizard/Priest

Alignment - Chaotic Good

Homeland - Unknown

Major God - ?
Minor God - ?

Languages - Common, Shellanth (Elven)

Age - 38

Sex - Male

Height - 5"10'

Eyes - Faded Blue

Hair - Rough brown

Weapons - He says he had plenty of weapons strapped to his back. A mace, and axe, and many visible sword hilts protruding from a cape. However, right now, it doesn't he has anything, but a rusted two-handed sword.

Weapon Proficiency - Single Weapon Fighting, Two-Handed weapon fighting

Armor - A huge and bulky piece of armor. However, no emblem could be found to mark his allegiance.

Other - A necklace is around his neck.

Major Abilities - He's got a crossbow too.

Background - Once a great Paladin, (or so he claims), he fell into the hands of an enchantress, and somehow he lost his memories (or so he claims again). Having lost his companions, and not knowing where his origins and homeland lie, he went to the comfort of a mug of beer.

[Throndir]

Name - Falandaeus Elthallen

Title - None

Quote - "Boom! Hahahahaha!"

Adventures
Dungeon Crawl: Diamond Isle Expedition

Race - High Elf

Class - Chaos Mage

Alignment - Chaotic Neutral

Homeland - Silverfall

Languages - Common, Shellanth (Avian and Elf langage)

Age - 97

Sex - Male

Height - 6"3'

Eyes - Faded Blue

Hair - Dirty Blonde

Weapons - Falandaeus has no preferred weapon. However, being a traveller, and mostly disliked for his dangerous and unpredictable abilities, he uses most often the walking staff.

Weapon Proficiency - None

Armor - The common garb of the elven apprentice mages. It is color blue with trimmings and markings in a green cloth.

Other - His most prized possesion is an amulest around his neck. It looks simple, a rounded marble-like object held in place by a small and comfortable steel chain.

Major Abilities - Falandaeus is one of the few mages who have the art of chaos. A living contradiction to the ways of magic. It is common knowledge that a mage must posses great control and discipline to be able to gather the mystical energies surrounding everyone and everything. If a mage does not gather the energies first, the spell will have no effect. Falandaeus had a surprisingly great ability to gather the mystical energies even if they were in small quantities. At first deemed a prodigy, soon the great masters of magic gave up on the young elf. He had no talent casting spells. Everytime he attempted a spell, it always went wrong as if a person in the background kept on countering Falandaeus' spells.

Background - As a novice spellcaster, Falandaeus could never find his true calling in magic. He tried being a conjurer, a transmuter, a geomancer, illusionist, enchanter, he even tried to be a travelling circus mage, but to no avail. Then one day, Falandaeus decided to create magic, just because he can. He focused his powers, forming a ball of energy in his mind. Being absent-minded, and only had one purpose: create magic just because he can. Falandaeus forgot to specify what that ball of energy was suppose to do. He quickly released the bundles of magic from his grasp, and to his delightful surprise he somehow teleported the Grand Mistress right in front of him wearing just a bathrobe. The Grand Mistress apparently thinking he did it on purpose was shocked that his spell was able to penetrate her wards, and soon banished the mage from the city. Although Falandaeus was banished from his homeland, he was jubilant that somehow his spell was able to go through one of the most revered Grand Mistress' wards. At last, something he was good at.

[Throndir]

Name: Cyrus
Alliance: Lawful Neutral
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Relatives/Family (optional): A mother and a sister.
Personality/Attitude:

Always one to be taken seriously, he never lets his guard down for anyone. At times, he may seem tense, unfriendly in some aspects. But he's learned to live by such standards. His stubborness is a core of his being, and won't trust anyone easily. However, this doesn't mean that he wouldn't ally or even befriend others when the time calls for such. He believes that trust is something that is earned, much like respect and honor, and it is not given lightly. He defends his views with such unanimity, that at times others find him close-minded.

His seriousness is one that can rival even the most pensive sage. He doesn't find humour in dangerous situations, nor does he find mirth in much of anything else. Although he may be rigid to a point that others find unbelieveable, it doesn't mean that he can't smile, laugh, or find merriment in other lighter things. But it's a side of him that he rarely shows, and only to those closest to him. However, when no one is around, he likes to take pleasure in the simple things in life. Be it enjoying the wild lands, or breathing in the fresh cool air.

In battle however, Cyrus becomes something akin to a cold-blooded killer. He methodically finishes his work, and at times mercilessly slaying those in his path. He isn't entirely good, or entirely evil. But this does not mean that the man doesn't have a sense of honor, or a code to live by. In fact, he lives by his own unique code. At times, he can be found helping a stray traveller; guiding the person back to safety. Or helping in the defense of a trade caravan, attacked by a band of outlaws, and expecting nothing in return. Neither is it uncommon to find the man doling out a few coins to those that truly needed it.

There are also times, however, that he acts cold, aloof, and without mercy, especially to those who could be deemed "evil". When it comes to villains, a fire rages behind Cyrus' usually calm eyes; an intense hatred, that removes all other emotions of the moment. The decisions he had made has always haunted him. At times, his guilt becomes unbearable, and times like these, his practiced facade disappears, showing a hint of emotion.

If one were indeed able to get to know him, and close enough to the aloof man, they would find, behind his grey near-lifeless eyes, not only a fierce loyalty to those around him, but a man searching for something. But don't bother asking, for even he would not be able to tell you what that was.

Background/History:

The war lasted for years, and only ended when nuclear bombs were dropped, decimating whole cities, and killing hundreds of thousands in its wake. When he was young, his mother tried to hide him as the draft required all those able to fight to take up arms. And all those young enough, to train until they were proficient enough to be sent. Although he was still a child, the local governance required his parents to send him to train. His mother, already saddened by the loss of her husband, decided to hide her children, specifically her young son who would be required to be sent to a military training school. But her efforts proved fruitless, as just days later when the draft was announced, the governance stormed through their home, and forcefully took the young child away; their sister and mother cried and watched helplessly as he was taken away from them.

During the next years, Cyrus spent his time learning the art of war; the handling of a gun, the endurance to trudge through rough terrain, and the ability to follow orders. He was skilled, and talented for such work, and among the military academy they were taught in, he soon rose to a captain rank, not just because of his skill, but also because time was short, and the governance needed more soldiers to replace those who have died.

At the age of 23, he was given command of a unit. And for the next few months of the war, he succesfully won campaigns against the enemy, coldlessly killing those that were against him. He saw many horrific sights, even taking part with some of them. But he was well-disciplined, and continued on.

However, that changed one day when in the cover of night, he lead his men to a supposed enemy-filled village, following their orders from the governance, he ordered his men to fire upon the village-camp in hopes to surprise their enemy. Yet, no enemies poured forth, and no resistance gave way. Thinking this a good sign, he lead the charge towards the village. His men, in the heat of battle, followed after, torching nearby houses and buildings as they came upon them. But all Cyrus found were frightened and injured villagers. But to the soldiers, all they saw was the enemy. Killing the villagers in cold-blood, all Cyrus could do was watch in horror as the men he commanded mercilessly slew them. Hearing the cry of a lost child, Cyrus quickly followed pursuit of the sound. He found a young girl, no more than 10 years of age, a woman, who looked to be her mother, shot dead on her feet. Guilt overcame the man just then, not just for the village they invaded, but for all the past atrocities he commited, and he hid the girl underneath the cellar of a nearby house. He told her to be quiet, even as the young girl tried fruitlessly to stifle her tears.

Soon, his soldiers passed through the village, and he lead his men back home. All the while, fervently hoping that the girl would be alright. But his hopes were dashed, as the morning after, the governance sent a nuclear bomb near the village, engulfing it, and three other nearby towns as well. This started the release of many more devasting explosions that not only destroyed the governance and the enemy, but many people along with it. His own village was abandoned, the locals, and many other villages nearby, leaving their homes to find somewhere safer, and even he doesn't know the fate of his mother, or sister who was left behind.

Along with the fallout from the explosions, demons appeared in the numbers, when before, they would appear only rarely. Humanity, or what was left of it, survived just barely. The few abled warriors and mages took a hand in defending the few villages left. Cyrus, despising the evil of men, the governance, and the war itself, aimlessly took the the road, having seen too many horrors done by his own hand, he chose to redeem himself, in his attempt to search for his family, or find any information on the fates of his mother and sister.

Appearance:

With square shoulders, straight posture, and a face as if etched in stone, he gives an aura of integrity and loyalty. He has the face of man that encompasses all what it means to be serious. Although he can be considered comely by some people's standards, his intense gaze, and manner serves to diminish such aspects.

His contemplative face is topped with a ragged display of reddish-brown hair. Although it is tidied, an onlooker can tell that the man spends hardly anytime with it. And looks to be more of a fast and near-sloppy work of tidying up.

Cyrus holds himself as a trained fighter. His gait reflects the years of training he endured even at a young age. His grace possesess a quality that few can match. His movementss are eerily silent, and if one were to close their eyes, they wouldn't be able to tell that the man was there in the first place. Various scars and burns cover his body, and hardly is there a place left unscathed by the experiences he's been through.

He wears fragments of his uniform from when he was in the military. However, many pieces of the clothing has been replaced by symmetrical pieces of leather, fashioned into an almost armor-like clothing. The only recognizable piece of his clothing that resembles his days in the military is the crest and symbol of his allegiance, etched in a pattern on his right shoulder. He has no true preference for clothing, or color for that matter, and can feel comfortable in any attire he, or any other, forces him to wear.

Picture:
Height:
Weight:

Hair Colour: Reddish-brown, more akin to a red brick
Eye Colour: Grey
Build: Tall and a relatively fit body.

Weaponry:

He carries with him his cutlass, a standard weapon given to those who served in the military. It is also the weapon he most favors, as it is the only weapon he had years of experiences, not only with training, but also with actual use. However, he also carries with his self a pistol. In the times when ammunition is hard to be found, and pistols, a mark of a time of war and suffering, he rarely takes it out. And instead, keeps it safe, saving his ammunition for a time when he believes it is truly needed.

Armour:

He wears fragments of his uniform from when he was in the military. However, many pieces of the clothing has been replaced by symmetrical pieces of leather, fashioned into an almost armor-like clothing.

Major Abilities:
Other (if applicable):

[Throndir]

Name: Ilumain Aldavir
Alliance: Lawful Neutral
Age: 236
Gender: Male
Race: High Elf
Class: Primarily Celestial Magic User, has recently become proficient in Arcane.
Settings: Tarmilain RP
Relatives/Family (optional): Dead wife.
Personality/Attitude:

He sees the other races as inferior to himself and other High Elves like him. Though, he himself does not look favorably upon his race.

Background/History:

He had never liked the humans who populated the 'new world', and even before the war, he was part of the group that were against giving them the use of Celestial magic. When the war started, though he was an able wizard, a high ranking user of Celestial magic, he chose not to fight. He scorned the elves around him for giving the lowly humans the magic in the first place. And thought that it would be there own problem to solve, and not his. He was unique in this position, as almost every other elf aroud him went to war.

Yet, his wife, Inariel, also a powerful user of Celestial magic, insisted that they support their people. Even claiming that if they joined, they might have a chance to stop the war, and reduce casualties on both sides. Of course, Ilumain refused, but he eventually gave in, giving her his blessing as she finally went to war with the others. He himself would not go. Though he would have never admitted it, Ilumain constantly worried about her. Day after day, even the strongest of wizards of his people fell to the cries of battle. But his prayers were soon answered as the war was finally stalled. The God Wars forced both sides to temporarily stop the war, as both tried to cope with the onslaught of magic and chaos the God Wars had created.

The God Wars ravaged the lands as creatures came forth from the high concentrations of magic located in various places throughout; forming rifts and holes within their dimension. The elves searched for a remedy to the problem, they knew that without some sort of intervention, these pockets of magical energy can  multiply, creating even more rifts to worlds unknown. Some even feared that perhaps one day a rift would be created large enough to engulf the entire world. They had their few able crystal craftsmen to search for a way to solve the growing threat. Their Celestial magic, and their knowledge of crystals were believed to be the key to solve any of their problems. Finally, they came up with a special white crystal, it's energies swirling within its globe, visible to the naked eye. It had the power to absorb the Nether magic that saturated the lands and dispose of it within it's swirling vortex.

They thought they found a solution. But they were wrong.

Inariel, always one to be glad and willing to help her people, volunteered to be the first to try out the new crystal. The determined face of Inariel as she left the home on that day would forever be etched into Ilumain's memory.

The first test run resulted in a catastrophic failure as the user was drained into the crystal. Not only did it absorb the Nether magic, but it also drained the very life of the one chanelling the energies. It required intense concentration and magical adeptness was needed as well. If even Inariel, one of the few surviving Celestial magic users of high ranking couldn't have finished the task, then who else could accomplish it? A few others tried, thinking that perhaps they had what it took, but it all ended with the same result.

The grief-stricken Ilumain, no longer caring whether he died or not, demanded to see the crystal. At first he had planned to destroy the item himself when the others were unaware, but as he stared at the swirling vortex and activated its properties, he realized how much people had meant to Inariel, not just the high elves, but even the lesser races.

His emotions pouring forth, yet his control remained stable. To everyone's surprise, the motes of Nether aer vanished as the crystal's powers subsided.

With crystal in hand, he left the Elven city. Vowing to finish what his wife had started.

Appearance:
Picture:


Height: Relatively tall, compared to a human. Average for an elf.
Weight: Light

Hair Colour: Dull purple-hued,
Eye Colour: Grey
Build: Slim, and could be considered malnutritioned, though his robes hides the fact well.

Weaponry:

He carries with him an arcane staff. The jewel attached to the head is a rare crystal given to him by his people. Unlike the common spells imbued to a crystal such as offensive or defensive spells; those commonly used in battle. His crystal has the power to absorb the large quantities of Nether magic and 'remove' them from existence.

He also carries with him a sack of Celestial crystals, but due to the long amont of time required to recharge these particular ones, rarely does he take them out except in the most dangerous of situations.

Armour: He wears a black cloak and robe with intricate patterns sketched as trimmings.

Major Abilities:
Other (if applicable):

[Throndir]

Name: Belgi Glimmina Longarm (Official Name)
Title: None
Quote: "My name is BELGAR! BELGAR LONGARM!"
Adventures: Dungeon Questor
Race: High Born (Dwarf)
Class: Sharpshooter/Berserker
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Homeland: Northern Reaches.
Languages: Common, Cerin (Dwarven)
Age: 64
Sex: Male
Height: 4'3"
Weight: 172 lbs
Eyes: Golden Brown
Hair: Dirt Brown, streaks of blonde.
Weapons: His trademark weapon, a "Long barrel". A firearm-like weapon, excellent for snipers. As a just-in-case-the-worst-happens, he carries with him a large two handed axe.
Weapon Proficiency: Two handed weapon fighting
Armor: A big shield is strapped to his back.
Other: A necklace is around his neck.
Major Abilities: He's got a gun.
Background: Belgi was discovered by elves at an early age, around the age of 7. His town all but decimated from an invading army of  trolls, he was left for dead until a pair of Elves took him in. Though he resisted at first, stubborn as any dwarf could be, it didn't take him long to finally in to the lifestyles of his newfound parents, and had eventually accepted them for who they were. Since Belgi was still quite young and had Elves for parents, he had once even took up the bow. As years passed however, and as Belgi came to know more of his blood brethren he became more and more interested in his own heritage, even learning how to wield the axe as is common among his own race. There came a point when Belgi's foster parents decided to gift him with a peculiar item (as far as Elves were concerned). It was a firearm, crafted entirely by his Elven parents.
Goals: With that, Belgi took to adventuring, exploring the world, as well as getting to know more about his blood kin, as well as perhaps find the fate of his blood relatives.
Quirks: Gets light headed at the sight of blood.
Personality:

[Throndir]

Celendel Siadon:

personality: brooding, when not acting

Illusion/cold/air magic

High charisma

special knife (undetectable as a weapon, buildable)

double crossbows

assassin

dark cloak, hooded

Lawful Neutral <- Lawful Evil

siblings: Annia Siadon, and Emmeline Siadon

supposed job: Paladin/Knight of the order. Rebels, becomes thief/assassin. Annia takes over as a Paladin/knight. Emmeline Siadon, wants to become adventurer like siblings, follows Throndir the Ranger to learn.


   Brother of Annia Siadon. Eldest of the three siblings. Was the candidate to become a knight, though he abhorred becoming one. In the middle of his training, he left. He had not been seen since. (Unknown to them the rest of his family, he has become an assassin). Turned from Lawful Evil to Lawful Neutral (with evil tendencies), after a particular event/person that profoundly affected him. (Undecided). High charisma, many times pretends to be a noble to assassinate his victims. Unique "constructable weapons"; easily hidden. Has some air/wind/illusion magic.

[Throndir]

Gavelen = bard
Weapon = Short Sword
Instrument = Lyre (gift/crafted by sister)
Will not longer play the instrument for particular reason*

current quest: long term goal: travelling to Ternadan, in Elodria, supposed last known place of sister.

Musician bard

weapon = broken sword and short sword

Neutral Good

"I CAN KILL THE BANDITS YOU JUST WATCH!"
Gavelen always had an easy life, but if you ask him, he'd tell you that his life is full of intrigue and dangers. He would then ramble on about a fight between him and a huge ogre, and having himself as the victor. Although his stories may seem a little bit too "out there", he can surpsingly convince many people that his deeds were true. By slyly including a few not well known facts in his stories, he convinces the people who know those facts to be true. Gavelen always puts up a smile, even through the most dangerous of missions, and it is not uncommon of him to charge in the front lines along with the grizzled battle veterans. More a loudmouthed, than a fighter, Gavelen is the one to always motivate his friends in a time of trouble.

[Throndir]

Heroes/Guilds/Groups/People:
Shirus Shenegas the Alchemist
Zedia the Enchantress
Sephiroth the Dragon who Wilts
Melvis the Mage
Mor'bidan the Necromancer
Melinda the Halfing Harlot
Serith the Enchanter
The Crimson Guard
Long Hammers of the Daldor Clan
Zelendar the Red Dragon
Golthan the Paladin
Sandarian Order of the Monks
Gothar the Barbarian
Ashlandia the Dragon
Kalzyx the Familiar
Drixel Gemcutter the Mountain Gnome
Aranimus Painsplitter the Shield Bearer
Clan of Lost Souls - Necromancer Clan
Warren the Paladin
Shoop the Beggar
Werros Keller
Zaarg the Dwarven Smith
Amren the Elven Fighter
Gadric the Adventurer
Tellos the Cowardly Wizard Apprentice
Ryld the Fighter
Yathasar the Thief
Kargos the God of Vengeance
Ashaka'Khan the Leader of the Brotherhood
Dead Eye the Pirate
Mog-Ral the Half Ogre
Brother Cedric the Monk
Herenicus the God of Humility
Teron the God of the Storms
Glorden the Berserker Dwarf
Den'Arth the Barbarian
Lon-Shanin the Golden Dragon
Lyon the Thief
Helena Windshifter
Sovren the Wizard
Zore the Fire Warrior
Tamarak the Old Wizard in Icefang Forest
Bal'isturil the Smith
Everdeil the Sword Master
Crimson Talon with the Red Dragons
Fronlet the Tinker
Evail the Swordsman
Andrew Sedwick the Not-So-Lucky
Merillos the Diver
Paton Gills the Farmboy
Arkhan the Warrior Smith

[Throndir]

Charlene Estelle le Noir de Jouillat

[Throndir]

Liana Amarir

Half-Elven Wizard
Silver Arms Agent, 3rd rank (blue)
Languages: Common, Elven, Dwarven, (among others)