[Characters] The Lost

[Pendragon]

Please post your character and your character sheet in an NSHEET behind a spoilerbutton.

[TipsyBard]

Application: Gisella Montresque-Fairsun Name: Gisella Montresque-Fairsun, though she prefers “Ella.” Race: Elf Class: Bard Background: Noble Musician Origin: Armont Personality/Description:   A bit short for an Elf, Ella has never been keen on a ‘traditional’ look (much to the chagrin of her ‘prim and proper’ family) and uses minor magic to change the color of her platinum-blonde hair to whatever she fancies when she can get away with it. When at home during the day and while spending time with her family, Ella is dressed in elegant gowns and fanciful jewelry (except for her secret facial piercings she got from her dwarven friend Bea in town one day) of various formal colors and expensive materials. When alone or sneaking out of the house, however, she much prefers more practical and comfortable garb - usually dark trousers and an old violet tunic she found, underneath a simple grey cloak. For all her claims to the contrary, one expensive article of clothing that she does take pleasure in are shoes. Even her ‘roughing it’ boots are made of quite expensive quality leather and velvet, with gold or platinum buckles that reach midway past her calf. As is apparent from her choice of dress (when she does get to choose), Ella tries her best at every opportunity to be the exact opposite of what her family asks of her. A wealthy and well-taken care of child who plays the part of the commoner in her spare time. Though she is kind hearted, and her intentions are good, she could easily be viewed as spoiled or ungrateful for throwing away the wealth of her family that those she imitates would do anything to have. In conversation she tends to be incredibly outspoken and curious, considering how often her family requires her to be ‘seen and not heard;’ she jumps at every opportunity to make her opinions known when she can. Ella is the type of person who craves some sort of adventure or wonderment, but wouldn’t know how to actually handle the hardships that come along with them. She is more sheltered than she is realizes, and doesn’t really know what she’s asking for. Character History:   Ella wasn’t born into wealth, even though it's the only life she's known. Her mother, Llorwyn Fairsun, married the handsome (and quite rich) nobleman Kellis Montresque when Gisella was barely a toddler. As such, she was raised with all the pleasant luxuries that the life of a well-to-do family gets to enjoy… and with them, the restrictions and responsibilities. Llorwyn and Kellis had two children together, named Alec and Damien. Alec, being the older of the two, has been groomed to take his father's place in charge of the family dealings. Damien has been taught the ins and out of noble business contracts as well, though he is not expected to take the lead (nor does he wish to). Ella's relationship with her half-brothers is mostly positive, though she has always gotten along better with Damien than Alec. Most of their time spent together as a family was spent following Kellis along on his various dealings in order to teach the children how to carry the family name forward successfully. Being kept on a such tight, boring schedule of business meetings and formal gatherings never sat right with Ella. She usually ended up sitting around, nice and uncomfortably pretty, while keeping quiet and out of the way. She took her boredom out on her half-brothers through minor magical tricks and pranks… which nearly always went unappreciated and just got her in trouble with their father. Despite her disinterest in the family business, Kellis still loved Gisella. She was the eldest child in the family, and the true love he had for Llorwyn applied to her as well. Unfortunately, the way he showed his affection was not what Ella needed or wanted; he assumed showering her with luxury and gifts would make her feel welcome, but that plan backfired and just made her feel uncomfortable with the lifestyle she was gifted with. As it became more and more apparent that she would not carry on the family business, Ella realized that she needed to do something more; something that felt useful. She had a desire to make her own way, and wanted to start making her own money so that she could one day be independent from her family's wealth. Ella’s Elven blood gave her an affinity for magic, though she never learned more than what could be equated to simple parlor tricks. As she began to read about and experiment with more powerful magical shenanigans, it became harder to do so in secret. When a simple spark trick nearly caught her room on fire, Ella realized she needed to practice her craft somewhere away from home. With no time to get away for herself during the day, she began to sneak out of the house in the evenings. Spending nights alone wandering the markets being whoever she wanted to be, even for a few short hours, made Ella feel more at home than she had in years. It became a nightly habit for her, and though she thinks she’s being clever and sneaking out without her family’s knowledge, her stepfather figured out what she was up to long ago and has paid for a secret escort of bodyguards to follow her in case she gets into danger. Eventually Ella’s simple tricks earned some attention and she attracted a small following of people who would pay her to perform nightly shows; first simply on the street with awkward tricks, and eventually in crowded taverns with a learned charisma to make her simple illusions and the like seem to be something more. She even began teaching herself to play the flute in order to enhance her shows, finding herself quite the natural. Mixing music and magic, Ella became relatively skilled as a performer and has been saving up money to leave home and travel the continent to meet new people and learn more about what’s out there. She's become popular enough that it's growing hard for her to hide her second life, though unbeknownst to her Kellis and Llorwyn have known for quite a while thanks to the secret bodyguards assigned to her. They choose to allow her to keep her little secret for the sake of her own happiness, though they hesitate to encourage her for fear of losing their only daughter to wanderlust before being able to marry her into another powerful family. Writing Sample:   Gisella ”I wonder if the crowd will like the new act I have planned tonight,” Gisella thought to herself as she sat, entirely still, in the luxurious hall of some rich business “friend” of her stepfather’s. As her brothers helped negotiate a deal over some sort of luxury goods or another (it was all the same to Ella, so she never really paid much attention to the specifics), she sat there and contemplated every step of the show she would perform later in the night. Finally a pat on her shoulder snapped her back to the much more boring reality. ”As helpful as always, big sister,” her youngest brother Damien said sarcastically, his usual joking grin across his face as he lifted his hand off her shoulder. Ella rolled her eyes as they turned to leave together, now planning instead how she’d next prank her loving brothers. The ride home was quiet, as usual - at least for Ella. The others continued to talk about business mumbo-jumbo as she just continued to daydream, staring off into the distance. It wasn’t until a loud and familiar voice came suddenly from behind her that she was snapped back to reality once again. ”Ella! Hey, Ella!” The brash voice of Gisella’s friend Bea came roaring from behind. As the dwarf ran excitedly towards their cart, Ella wanted to smile and hail her friend out of instinct - but suddenly she remembered that she was still with her family. She couldn't let Alec and Damien find out about her night life, and didn't want Bea to know she was some wealthy noble. With no time to think of a solution and as much as it pained her to do so, she would have to play dumb for the time being. The escort of armored guards jumped into action upon noticing the commoner rushing towards them, not hesitating to ready their blades. ”Hey, woah - easy there fellas,” Bea proclaimed with her hands held up in surrender, ”I mean no harm. Just saying hello to my good friend and prestigious performer there - right, Ella?” The boisterous dwarf looked at Gisella with an expectant smile, waiting for her to respond in kind. Bea glanced at Ella's family with curiosity, eyes wide. [n]"What's this now, eh? Find yourself some rich mark for a private performance? Or is this something more... romantic?"[/b] she asked teasingly. With a hesitant glance at her confused brothers and stoic father, Gisella spoke up shakily, ”I am afraid you must be mistaken. I do not know how you know my name, but I am quite certain we have never met.” Gisella couldn't bring herself to make eye contact with her friend out of shame, hating that she had to hurt her in such a way. Bea didn’t seem to understand as she stood there, confusion turning into anger as the cart continued on. Gisella turned around to try and shoot an apologetic look towards her friend, but the crafty dwarf had already disappeared. ”Commoners are so ignorant sometimes,” Alec said, ”I suppose that is the effect of lesser education. Are you alright, sister?” No, she was not alright. Nothing ever was when she was trapped in this boring life. ”I’m... fine,” was all she could manage to say as she looked down at her hands, crossed meekly in her lap. ”I hope she won’t stay mad at me for too long,” Ella thought as the cart made its way back towards their home.

[Duskers]

The Condemned Berserker, Ebba Aze Ebba Aze Race: Human (V) Class: Barbarian Background: Criminal Origin: Armont Personality/Description: Having spent her entire life in the slums of Armont, Ebba is just as rugged and tough as her intimidating appearance implies. Years of being constantly on her toes, wary of guards and other criminals, has forced her to mistrust everyone. Ebba has learned to be stubborn and forceful, relying on either brute force or intimidation to get what she wants. She does what she must to survive and doesn't have any foreseeable limits in this motivation, either. Ebba finds it hard to have a good time without getting a little inebriated due to her paranoia. In her mind she feels like a natural leader, but she can often times be too dimwitted to truly lead a group. Won't stop her from trying, though. Her physique is extremely noticeable. Despite her poor diet, she keeps a constant work out routine. Ebba has long, unkempt, red hair that reaches down below her ass. Her skin is strikingly pale and her cheeks have some freckles. Her eyes are a cold blue. Character History: Ebba was born to a loving commoner family who had inherited a humble home in Armont from a recently deceased merchant relative. When she was 6, they took the journey into the city. Her father forged steel and they were hoping to start up business in the city. On their way there, however, they encountered a wide-grinning human man. With a quick wit and charismatic swagger, just being around him gave you the sense that he was a simple, jolly fellow. Speaking circles around Ebba's relaxed parents, He masterfully conned the family out of their money and blacksmith tools, leaving nothing for them besides the rations to get to the city. Without realizing what he'd done to them until after he sped off, the gullible couple were left both awestruck and in disbelief. They had to press on to survive, as their old village was much further away than the city. They soon made it to Armont, finding shelter in their new home. However, due to their lack of ability to generate coin, they soon fell into a financial spiral. Unable to pay their bills, they were kicked out of their home and stripped of their belongings. Cast into the streets and slums, they begged for food and coin with little luck. With a starving child, Ebba's parents had to resort to stealing to survive. Seemingly by sheer luck or by pure drive to not let their child die, they managed to be exceptionally skilled at thievery. So surprisingly good were they that they kept the act up until Ebba was 16, when they were finally caught by the city guard trying to steal from a street entertainer. They were brought to the chopping block together, beheaded beside one another as Ebba watched from a safe distance. Alone and scared, Ebba began to crack and reveal the first signs of the rage that made her a barbarian. Stealing an executioner's axe in the dead of night, she brought it back to the slums and proceeded to use the sharp weapon as a sort of bargaining chip. "Get me food and I won't kill you." And it worked! Very soon she got a hang of the role and started a street gang, held together by fear. With this sudden shift in lifestyle, Ebba grew paranoid of those around her. To ensure no upheaval would begin under her feet and topple her, she began a strict workout routine. Still relatively inexperienced, but boasting muscles few could rival, by age 23 she was an intimidating and commanding gang leader. The gang kept food stores, hidden away from the rest of the city, with Ebba always getting the best and saving the rest for those that do the work. Over years she had experienced murder by her own hands, betrayal from others, and had developed a deeper paranoia and a power lust as a result. She grew up fast out of necessity and it paid off well. In Character Writing Sample:   Ebba walked into the cold, dark room with purpose. She held her axe by the top of the shaft, handle swaying side to side behind her. A loud creaking was heard as the door shut behind her, being closed by the loyal beggar waiting outside. She came to a halt in front of a poor man tied to a chair by rope wearing nothing ragged shirt and pants. And she just stared. And stared. The man took a big gulp as he could barely make eye contact with the imposing woman. "You sold us out.", she stated firmly as she stomped on his exposed toes with her heel. The man yelled in agony as he felt his fragile bones shatter. "After y'got caught, we heard guards rushin' the slums. They found the base." Ebba scowled down at the man and grinded her heel further into his toes," We lost all'r food stores. If we hadn't 'eard em comin', we'd've been found out." Ebba leaned in a bit closer to the man's face, then punched him directly in the gut. She could swear she felt something pop. As the man choked on his own blood, Ebba very nearly felt pleased, but there was much more to come. "An' for what? To have yer charges lifted!?" She smacks him across the face so hard his nose begins to gush, "I thought I made it clear from the start, you backstabbing piece a ****! If y' ever cross me, I'd make y' wish you were sent to Hell by the choppin' block." Then she walloped him directly in the face with the shaft of her axe, shaking the chair underneath him. This continued for a couple hours, with Ebba soon going silent after she was done saying what needed to be said. At this point, the man could barely be recognized as human. Him and the chair had fallen over in such a way that he'd be staring at the cieling if his eyes weren't glazed over with blood. Without saying a word, Ebba finally raised her axe, bringing it down on his neck and ending his suffering. She then grabbed her axe by the top of the shaft again and exited the room. As she walked out, a crowd of her gang members gasped at her bloodied clothes, then at the decapitated body left in the room. "Stop starin' an' get to work at cleanin' it up! We don't want the guard findin' out about this." The beggars quickly moved, scared out of their minds. Some part of Ebba wished she didn't have to stoop to such tactics, but the rest of her knew this is the only way she could survive on these streets.

 

[nickostopheles]

Nico Hashef, AWOL Thade Imperial Infantry   Name: Nico Hashef Race: human Class: Fighter Background: AWOL Infantry Soldier of Thade. Started as child soldier. Origin: Thadian Empire Personality Chaotic Good, At his core he is ISFP - Astute, Sensitive, Laid-back, Quietly watchful, Modest, Caring, Gentle, Loyal, Gives little away, Gets overlooked, Harmonious, Dislikes conflict, Difficult to know. But due to his brutal treatment there is a much more melancholy and stoic reserve with occasional bouts of temper at certain key things [cruelty and bullying]. But the violence isn’t loud and rampagey it is quiet and determined if still completely disproportionate. He is in the process of finding his voice. At the moment he wants to help others and will do so even if it is suicidally dangerous. Quote: (after getting close to Nico, perhaps a little drunk): "Thade begins in day to day pettiness, cruelty and greed. Best to kill those who feel like Thade before they get their own empire. The world is better without them." Personality Trait - I’m haunted by memories of war. I can’t get the images of violence out of my mind. Ideal - Independence. When people follow orders blindly, they embrace a kind of tyranny. (Chaotic) Bond - I fight for those who cannot fight for themselves (now, not in the past). Flaw - I've gone AWOL (and proud of it), but I expect the Thadian Empire to kill me eventually, lending itself to pessimism. Part of him wouldn't mind if he was killed. Description: Nico is well built and sturdy with very short dark hair and a body covered in healed scars. He wears chainmail and uses a greatsword. His eyes are a dark brown and most definitely sad. His expression is muted and flat for the most part, smiling an effort even during great kindnesses.   CHILDHOOD Nico grew up in the farmfields of The Thadian Empire. They were poor and there was much cruelty, but much of the time they were left alone and relatively happy. Until one day the Empire needed more soldiers. They impressed (drafted at swordpoint) many of the boys and men that day. Nico was only ten years old and was one of them. THE ARMY The training was grueling but he, his father, and his elder brother survived. The culture was built upon paranoia, fear, and cruelty and Nico gained a permanent knot in his stomach. Family members were intentionally split for permanent assignments and so when Nico was put to work he rarely saw any of his family for years. He did as he was told quietly and without much presence. At fifteen he heard his father had died, executed for a petty theft. Nico doubted he did it, but it didn’t matter in Thade. Sadism was the norm in the army it just traveled down the chain of command. Nico survived it without becoming part of it in his head space. He was a soldier and so he had to do heinous things on a regular basis for years. He didn’t attach himself to these actions. He was like half of the army of Thade. The other half became too accustomed to the brutality and let themselves enjoy it to varying degrees. Nico just kept his head down and did what he had to, to survive. TREASON At the age of twenty, Nico had been in the infantry for 10 years. Granted his early years were training and mostly manual labor, but he’d been fighting for some time now. He took no pride in it. He didn’t even view it as himself. He was a cog in the Thadian Army, invisible - a thing not a person. Then one day something happened to pierce his numbness. Captain Ganse Sural, a favorite cousin of the emperor, was in charge of his unit. Sural quickly demonstrated his complete indifference and even amusement at others suffering. He routinely tortured and played mind games with his victims. Sometimes his troops as well, but no one could stop him due to his connections. One day Nico was the only guard in the room with Captain Sural as he interrogated (a.k.a. tortured for fun) a number of villagers. When he ordered Nico to kill a father and daughter if they didn’t commit incest before him, Nico flipped out. He decapitated Captain Sural in one swing of his great sword. He escorted the poor father and daughter out under a ruse. Nico stole a horse and ran for it. TORTURE Within a week he was captured and that’s when the torture began. They would torture him, nearly kill him, heal him and then start again. This cycle is the last thing he remembers.   Nico had ridden for days with little sleep, riding straight for the border. Killing Captain Sural was the best and worst thing he could have ever done. His mind ruminated upon the events of that day over and again as he rode his stolen horse hard. The joy of standing up for himself and what was right in the world and then dipping to the doom he feared awaited him. They would catch him. He had cut off all insignia and signs that he and the horse were of the Thadian Army. He had turned things inside out, trimmed, and even stole from someone's laundry to improve his disguise as he’d rode. He entered the town of Efril. It was a dusty outpost on a crossroads of two lesser used trade routes near the border. He was only a day or two away from freedom, but he and the horse needed food, water, and rest. He made his way to the Dust Dragon Inn. He tied up his horse and bought a room for the night and settled in for a meal. The server was a round short older gent with a friendly smile, a hat, and a short gray beard. He said, "What brings you out in the middle of this dustbowl, young master?" Nico sunk his spoon rapidly again and again into the stew and between slurps said, "I’m no master, just a messenger, sir. " "Oh, messenger ey? What kind of messengering?" said the server as he pulled up a chair and sat at Nico’s table. Nico was the only guest and he seemed to be a bit bored. "Don’t know, sir. I don’t look at the messages. It’s against my job. I just bring'em," said Nico keeping his eyes mostly on his food and drink. "As well you shouldn’t. But more I mean, who sent you. Is it something daring and important for the Empire?" said the server with a twinkle in his eye. "I’m not supposed to say, sir, "said Nico maintaining a low unassuming voice, something quite natural to him, if the lies weren’t. "Well you just seem so well armed for a messenger, "said the server. He knows, was Nico’s first thought. But he couldn’t calculate how that’d be. He was being paranoid. "Well, you have to protect yourself on the road, don’t you, "said Nico matter of factly. "True, true, young messenger. Well, I better clean the kitchen a bit. Enjoy your meal, "said the server as he got up and walked off with a tip of his hat. In stomped a weary warrior in mismatched armor and many blades on his belt. His beard was a week old and his skin tanned and wrinkled prematurely by the sun. Boy, you work here? said the man in what Nico thought to be a foreign accent. "No sir," said Nico, eyes averted. "Hmph. INNKEEPER!" said the warrior. The server bustled out and said, "Another customer today, wonderful. " "Yeah. Get me some grub and some wine. I’ll be here, "said the warrior banging a sword heavily on a table across from Nico. *** NOTE - The following is the outline for the remainder of the story, but it seems to be going too long, compared to the other applicants. If you'd like to see the rest written out. I can do that. WARRIOR AND NICO TALK WARRIOR STARTS TO PICK ON THE INNKEEPER. ELEVATING TO THREATENING. PIGGY PIG PIG PIG NICO AGAINST HIS BETTER JUDGEMENT INTERVENES. THE WARRIOR IS TOO GOOD. THADIAN ARMY SOLDIERS FLOOD IN. THEY CIRCLE AND TALK. THE SERVER CLUBS NICO FROM BEHIND UNEXPECTEDLY. NICO BLACKS OUT.

 

[TKWrites]

Riz Name: When outside of Gnomish circles: Riz Themin When around other gnomes: Rizvan Kellen "Greybill" Glimmer Sindry Themin. Names came from parents, aunts, uncles, maternal granparents, and paternal grandparents respectively. Race: Gnome Class: Wizard Background: Guild Artisan Origin: Armont Personality: The acquisition of knowledge is what matters most. How you get there is an afterthought. In the business-oriented world of Armont, Rizvan is often described as a “driven” individual. He's a "go-getter," who is "results oriented" and "focused on his work." More politically-minded peers might call him "intense." Of course, these euphemisms are all very, very nice ways of describing a person who people... well, may not want to be so nice about. In common: Rizvan is obsessive. His desire to establish himself as The Expert on the mechanics and implementation of Arcane Energies has consumed him- to the point where he can think of little else in his daily life. He's not amoral... but he's more willing than most to push the bounds of "right" and "wrong" in his studies. After all- if the end result is something that changes the world, shouldn’t that justify almost any means?   The first thing most people notice about Riz is his hair. It was brown, once; but now, after years of direct contact with æther and other mystical energies, it has turned a sickly greenish white. Not that Riz seems ashamed of his change- he wears it almost like a trademark, shaving everything but the top of his head, and letting his green-gray shock of hair hang wherever it falls while he works. Beneath the hair, piercing grey eyes stare out of a smooth, angular face. His features seem to match the intensity of his personality- sharp angles and hard edges, like an axe-head given life. Even his smile seems sharp- a sardonic edge that flashes across his features whenever he finds something amusing. Standing at 3' and 3" tall, Riz doesn't really cut an 'intimidating' figure. Not that this stops him from holding himself like the conquering general when he walks into his labs. No matter how big his client or guest may be, he always keeps his back straight and looks them in the eye... Even if he has to climb onto a desk-top to do so.   Rizvan Themin was not born in Armont. He was born in Lacland, to a family of tinkers who made their living by fixing broken odds and ends for their neighbors. It was a good life, and a successful business... but Riz was consumed by a desire for something different. See, as a child, Riz' father told him stories. Stories of legendary heroes, stories of men and women of all races who had left their mark on history. People whose great feats had made them truly unforgettable. At some point, hearing these stories, Rizvan's obsession took root. His family was well known in their community... but he knew that this would fade in time. He wanted to do something that would help their name live forever. At first, he sought his "destiny" amongst the Wizarding colleges. He studied hard, and he managed to make a respectful place for himself among the college's alumni... but he was never "head of the class," and he would never find fame in the role of a teacher or master. Not in Lacland. In fact, the only work of his that ever attracted much real attention was his work on direct manipulation of æther. His thesis- "A Study on the Structural Modification of Magic"- received strong praise... but only as a theoretical piece. Nobody in the college would actually support such a dangerous practice... nor would they fund someone attempting to commit "suicide by mana," as the directors put it. So, at the age of 100, Rizvan set out to find a home for his research. Which, of course, led him to Armont. Armont was a town where everything had a price... and the local Artificer's Guild was more than happy to give Riz a place to work. The terms of the deal were simple. The "Blue Cauldron" guild would give Riz access to labs, and to funding... but they would have access to any discoveries he made, to use how they saw fit. Riz knew the rumors- that the Blue Cauldron augmented its income through the sale of alchemical weapons and chemical substances- but that didn't concern him. Nor did it concern him when his first project- a device that used æther to create a thin jet of flame- was promptly taken away and given to another team for "advancement." As far as he was concerned, the guild could use his devices for whatever they wanted. After all... their uses of his experiments wouldn't matter for long. Eventually, his studies would bear fruit... and when they did, his name would overshadow the guild's, and none of that would matter. And so, he worked. Tirelessly. Unceasingly. Maddeningly. He worked, and he built, and he gave his ‘trinkets’ away. It was all for one goal, one unending quest… One day, the world would know his name.   -WHUMPH- The sound of the explosion made the floor shake, and bits of plaster snowed down onto the lab floor. In the middle of the room, the gnome coughed, and sputtered, and batted at his face to try and stop the smoldering in his eyebrows. As the room settled, Riz looked at his project. Another failed test… and a spectacular one, at that. “Alright, now… why won’t you work?” Annoyance made his voice a bit higher and sharper, but he managed to keep from raging as he prodded at the remains of his Shadow Hopper. He’d heard that some individuals had learned how to travel through shadows, using natural æther and a physical energy to move from one place to another. It was an incredibly rare talent… so of course, Riz had set out to make it more widely available. He knew the theory behind it… but every device and catalyst he had used had failed, and it seemed like each failure was more spectacular than the last. “Let me see, let me see…” The gnome spent a few minutes poking through the wreckage, tossing cogs and springs and broken glass into piles while he sought to discover just why the machine had failed. As he worked, he muttered to himself, mulling out what he would do for the next version… until a sudden jolt of pain brought him back to reality. “Son of a gnoll!” The gnome yelped, examining the long shard of glass that had embedded itself in the palm of his hand. A large drop of blood was welling up around it. The pain of the cut wasn’t bad… but the glass, which had held his reagents, was starting to heat up on contact with his blood. Almost as if… Suddenly, Riz knew how he was going to power the next prototype of his machine...