[PF-1e] Outside the Light

[CatCanCook]

[droobles]

My app is complete if a full sheet is not necessary, I will need a couple more days for that.

[Fyre2387]

My app is now done! Had fun writing this one.

[Unforgiven]

[Muggins]

[Pendragon]

Sorry, I have been under the weather for a few days now. I am keeping the deadline to the 14th, but I won't have time to give any more feedback. I need to finish building out the game forum.

I'll update the applications table for you droobles and Fyre2387

[Amarga]

Updated the Life Before Shadow section a bit to give Orsik's selection a bit more context!

[Unforgiven]

Character should be done, I will try to do another proof reading pass over before deadline, hope you enjoy the read!

[Pendragon]

I'm still very far behind in setting things up and some people have asked in DMs for a slight extension. I am going to go ahead and cave to this request because in all likelihood I won't be feeling great tomorrow anyways, it turns out I have a cold (flu), which probably won't clear up for another few days.

I am going to push out the deadline to the 16th. I'll update the first page to reflect this.

[MundayKnight]

Ios Stern Race: Human Gender Identity: Male (He/Him) Class: Incanter 5/Tempestarii 3 Spheres: Focused Weather, Greater weather, Lengthened Weather, Severe Weather, Storm Lord x2, Borne Aloft, Encompassing Weather, Sand Swimmer, Wind Lord, Rain Lord, Cold Lord.Weather, Plant starting package, create nature, Manipulate nature.nature, Distant Teleport, Emergency Teleport, Imbue Teleport, Blink, Create Gap.warp Archetype: None. Traits: Pilgrim, Unintentional Linguist Alignment: Chaotic Good Description: Ios is a man of average build and stature with little to remark on in appearance. In his time in the Light he wore simple clothes and kept mostly to himself. Dark eyes and sun tanned skin are framed by fiery red hair and a closely cropped copper beard. His time in the arboretum has given his hands thick callouses and a wide array of scars from repairing sprinklers and performing general maintenance. Faint smile lines creep from the edge of his lips and eyes betraying the steady march of age across his otherwise youthful guise. Since his power has awakened the man has changed greatly. The gentle smile that always rested upon his face has been replaced by a look of grim determination broken infrequently by its old mirth. His dark eyes are now home to an ever-raging storm as the magic within him battles for control of his very being. Ios now wears waterproof clothing and keeps a set of warm and cold weather clothing ready for whatever circumstance he finds himself in. The old callouses from turning wrenches and digging holes have now hardened with training in the various weapons expected of their order and the man has earned a patchwork of new scars across his body from the sparring pits, reminders of every mistake he has made in battle. Early Life in a Utopia: Born to a pair of botanists Ios's trajectory in life was apparent to anyone who cared to look. His marks in school where exemplary and everything was falling into line for him until his mid-teens. First his father passed from an aneurysm. A few months after that his mother could no longer take the stress and her mind fractured, leaving her a shadow of her former self. Ios dropped out of school to help take care of her in the early years as she drifted further and further from the Light. In the early days he let his entire world revolve around taking care of her as he mourned in private for the passing of his father and what amounted to the practical loss of his mother. In his private time Ios continued to study in hopes that one day he could return to the life he so abruptly had to give up. Life Before Shadow: Ios became an adult with little of the fanfare he expected and much less prestige than any who knew him would have ever imagined. Instead of becoming a botanist the boy became a groundskeeper for the cities largest arboretum. While the work was rather mundane he enjoyed it. The simple work of repairing the various automated systems and digging holes for new saplings brought peace to a hectic mind and order to a life that had for too many years been bereft of anything resembling the word. He had contemplated going back and changing his path but the work of the scientists was more time consuming and he was still needed at home to help take care of his mother. Years passed as the man grew into a staple of the arboretum. The scientists who carefully picked where plants were placed, how their soil was cared for, and generally made the overarching decisions for the arboretum would often come to him with questions as the man's knowledge of the plants and the world around them was vast while his opinions were presented with a humility often absent from their colleagues. In the year leading up to his recruitment Ios's mother passed in her sleep. At nearly seventy years in age it was not surprising that the woman had passed and while the now mid-thirties man felt grief from her death but he also felt some relief as he knew she was no longer imprisoned in her own mind. After the funeral was completed and all was settled Ios began studying to change jobs, no longer worried about having time away from work but like with so much since his teenage years his grand plans did not go as expected. The sun was bright overhead as Ios made his way to the Grand Hall his eyes remained on the ground before him making sure he avoided stepping on any new shoots or little critters that may scuttle underneath him. It was a solemn moment for him as he had already spent the better part of two decades taking care of the plants and maintaining the machines that in many respects kept the small island of humanity alive but it was time for him to take on a greater mantle, one where he could improve the city rather than simply repair it. As he walked into the building he finally looked up and into the relative darkness of the artificial lights. A gentle smile sat upon his face as he walked calmly to the Statues of Gal and the priests who so meticulously maintained them. He knelt before the statue in supplication and reverence. "I would like to change my path in life. I would like to seek a job in the sciences, ideally within the field of botany. I am up to date in my education on the subject and the transfer of positions would require minimum training. I know it is unorthodox for one of my age to seek such a change but I feel it is time." The priest beside the Statue was silent for a time much as when Ios was first given his job from the great Statues but unlike when he first went through this process the priest went pale and spoke in a hushed tone to the Statue beside him before walking away. Confusion set in and after a half hour of waiting confusion turned to dread. Something was wrong, he had never heard of such an occurrence and there was no doubt the look on the priests face before he fled was one of sadness. Nearly an hour spent kneeling on the stone left his knees and back aching but finally the priest returned escorting dwarven man who reminded Ios of the trees he cared for so often. "You have made my job much easier Ios. You shall have your change in position but not to be a researcher. Come back here tomorrow and you will be part of a group being taken to a much different job. Say what goodbyes you need to say tonight, you may never have the chance to do so again." Ios stood, his legs shaking from their sudden use after being idle so long. "I can go now if you like, I have no one to say goodbye to." "Well no point in bringing you down ahead of the rest so go and rest up. Be here at first light." Ios nodded at the man and after several rounds of shifting his weight to get the blood going back through his legs he nodded to the two men and left the Great Hall, his curiosity about what they could mean overwhelming his worry at the grim look on the priest's face. Instead of going home though Ios went to the arboretum and sat propped up by the first tree he had ever planted, a simple grapefruit tree now well into its life. Ios sat there and looked out upon what he had done, the sprinkler system he had repaired so many times, thousands of trees he had moved from pots to the well cared for soil of the arboretum across his many years as its caretaker. In his mind he said goodbye to every one of them, every bird, squirrel, and bee that called this great green home. He said goodbye to the life he had known. Life in Shadow: The dawn that began the rewriting of Ios's story was a cheerful one. Awoken by the chirping of birds preparing to greet the sun Ios jogged his way to the Great Hall and was met by a larger crowd than he had expected. Nearly two dozen of his fellow citizens ranging from fresh faced youths to a few wizened old folks who needed assistance just walking up the path to the building. Ios felt out of place and kept to the fringes of the crowd as they began to be ushered inside and then toward a stairwell leading down into the very bowls of the city. Ios volunteered to help a young wheelchair bound woman down the steps, having a nearby elven man carry the apparatus itself. When they finally got down into the hallway he returned the young woman to her chair with his gentle smile still resting on his breath despite his heavier breathing. Just at the base of the stairs he felt a strange filling of his lungs not dissimilar from pneumonia but he put it out of his mind as a mixture of nerves, pressure changes, and the moistness of the air as he already felt sweat breaking out from the mugginess of the hall though most others seemed to be unbothered by it. As the group began moving down the halls and some of those ahead of him began screaming and violently thrashing as things beyond his imagination began to occur. A young woman erupted in flames as her skin began to bake and boil before returning to normal with the woman just shivering on the ground. Another had frost coating them as they were pushed down the hall by what he could only assume were priests though they acted little like the pious men and women above. The water in his lungs got worse with every step until Ios had to stop where he was standing just to get anything close to a full breath. A woman pushed him from behind to get him moving again and he stumbled then fell to his knees before vomiting gallons of water onto the ground before him. The woman tossed him over her shoulder like he weighed nothing as a torrent of water continued to erupt from his mouth and nose. The wind around him was whipped into a turbulent frenzy and the air changed from boiling to freezing within seconds until finally the woman simply struck him on the back of the head and everything went dark for a time. When he awoke Ios was no longer overwhelmed by the magic in his body although it was still pulsing through his body, a raging storm awaiting release. The people on the plinth drew his eye and before he really knew what was happening a strange break in reality came rushing forward. Without a thought Ios simply appeared behind the wave as it rushed forward. How he had moved the dozen feet between the two locations he was not certain. Without any effort the gnome snapped his fingers and the storm went silent inside of him. The old man spoke and as he made it clear there was no point in dawdling so Ios went to his room and lay down, resting for the day ahead. Ios's training for the first month focused entirely on keeping the man from flooding the entire establishment which was in and of itself a rather difficult task but eventually his trainers were able to teach him how to funnel his power instead of simply being overwhelmed by it. He showed some talent with the manipulation of plants and space itself but his greatest power was by far his control of storms and the trainers were quick to put that skill to use in helping his fellow Shadows rain. Eye of the storm Ios stood at the side of the room with a heel of bread in his hand from breakfast. a line of archers stood in front of him and Ambrose stood at his side shouting instructions to the archers. The old elf looked the same age as Ios which likely meant he had several hundred years on the man but the two had bonded quickly. "How much more warmup you wanna give them Ambrose?" "Ehh another quiver full should be good." "Fine by me. How bad of a storm?" "Whats the worst you can do? Haven't had you push yourself yet." "With anything close to control?" "Ehh don't kill anybody." "They won't be able to shoot a bow if I do the worst I can do. How about I just do wind?" "Works for me." Ios finished the bread while the archers finished their quiver. Ambrose went out in front of the archers. "So I am gonna let Ios have some fun. Anyone who hits a target gets my booze for the next month. Best of luck." Ios smiled as Ambrose returned to his spot. A light breeze filled the room and some of the archers started laughing and knocking bows before the gentle breeze became gale force winds sending the smaller archers to the ground and even the larger warriors had to brace themselves against the winds. Ambrose shouted over the winds. "Get to firing kids." Bows were drawn and arrows released but the found themselves embedded in the far wall. The wind died down as the last arrow was attempted and Ambrose once again stood before the group. "You will be faced with worse conditions than this in your service to the city. So to learn how to overcome this this is going to be your training till you can hit those targets with reliability. After you can pull that off going to add some rain or snow into the mix. Until you can shoot the wings off a fly in the middle of a hurricane you aren't ready. Now just to prove its possible Ios I need you to amp it back up and get some rain going. Heavy as you can yeah?" Ios did as asked and the room became a torrent of rain and wind. The elf pointed his bow almost directly at Ios and in one fluid motion sent an arrow headlong into the storm. The arrow came within inches of Ios's nose before turning in its arc. Ios let the storm relent and in the silence that followed all eyes rested on the arrow sticking almost sideways out of the center of the target. "Now lets get going with that wind and you all keep shooting. For anyone who got knocked over your training starts with being strong enough to hold up to the wind. Lets go people!" Ambrose smiled as he walked back to Ios. "Get it started Ios, gonna be a fun few weeks." The howling of wind started up again as the two men stood back and watched with smiles on their faces.

 

Feats: All but 1 feat used on extra talent. Last one is gonna be improved initiative.
Stats: Str: 10
Dex: 10
Con: 14
Int: 22 (18 base, 2 human, 2 level)
Wis: 14
Cha: 8
Skills: Fly 8, Craft (hydroponic gear) 8,Linguistics 8, Spellcraft 8, Perception 8, Survival 8, K (Nature) 8, K (Geography) 8, K (Engineering) 8, K (Arcana)
Item Wishlist: 1: Crossbow.
2: Bonded Notebooks.
3: Gleam Brush.
4: Gold sink.
5: Waystone.
6: A flat bottomed vessel with a mast, basically a sand boat.
Spell points: 14
FCB: 1/6th of a magic talent.

[LostHerSheep]

Name: Ellery
Race: Human
Gender Identity: Feminine (she/her)
Class: The Incanter, from Spheres of Power (Creation Specialist)
Traits: I am still looking.
Alignment: Neutral Good
Description:
Ellery is small but strongly built, average for her age of 17 with cropped brownish red hair and a defiant gentle gleam in her blue eyes. Across her neck she proudly sports the markings of a survivor in the form of savage scarring from a brutal attack that almost ended her life and destroyed her singing career, robbing her of the one thing she valued more than most, her voice. She carries herself with an aura of fierce determination.

Life in a Utopia: Ellery was born on a humid, wet afternoon in the back of a humble little house in the Arts District to one Monsieur Bonsley, a renowned composer and his wife Tabatha, a skilled violinist. She came into the world much the same way she would travel through it, fast, without warning and with fierce determination.



Her life was a relatively simple one, everything the family ever needed was provided for the by the state and so they wanted for nothing and had time to spend pursuing there passions. Her parents would instill in her their passions and unwavering devotion to following your dreams as she grew up watching them play and write music together.

Ellery would go on to fall in love with the theatre that her parents performed at and by the age of seven was spending her free time at the various Amphitheatre around the district, listening and learning as much as she could about the entertainment sphere from the thespians and musicians, writers and directors as was humanly possible.



It was on one of these days that she first met Ms George, a beautiful woman with fire in her eyes, although she only stood 3foot tall Ellery would not be chastised for mistaking her to be a giant. Here was a woman who could rule a world with the sound of her voice and Ellery was in complete awe.
It was this was moment above all others that shaped the course her life would take. A fire was lit beneath her and she knew what the Light had intended for her.

Ellery would throw herself into her new found passion of Opera, becoming the only human members of a Gnome troupe lead by Ms George and she soon became the darling of the Arts District.

It was on her fourteenth birthday that her hard work and diligence would finally bare fruit as she would perform the lead in the first of many incredibly, difficult by reputation, Gnomish operas. Ms George, having reached the ripe old age of, around, or so it was said but no one actually knew the truth, several hundred years and had retired, leaving Ellery to take her place as lead performer.
It was during the production of a rather dramatic piece that the letters first began to arrive and so began the darkest chapter in Ellery life.

The letters came from fans, people who adored her. Her voice was likened to angels and she had become one of the most successful vocal artists to rise from the Arts District in quite some time. Everyone wanted to hear her sing and by the time she was sixteen, almost everyone had. She spent all her time on the stage, or with her parents trying to produce new compositions to perform for her people.
It was while reading one of these letters that the dark side of her position first showed itself. A letter from someone claiming to 'always be her flower' and the contents were disturbing.
Week after week the letters arrived from her 'flower' expressing love, admiration and sometimes a darkness that would have chilled the heart of winter.
She was scared and for the first time she saw how truly alone she was in this perfect world.


It was after one of her performances that all the stars would align to eclipse her world and send her crashing into the shadows.
Ellery had just reached the front gate to the home she shared with her parents. The beautiful seventeen year old didn't stand a chance as a sharp pain suddenly slammed into her and she was pulled off balance. Someone had grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, sharp claws cutting deep. She was now locked eye to eye with the snarling face of a plump Ratfolk woman, one she recognised instantly, despite how the hatred in its eyes distorted the familiar features. Ellery gasped, but she was gripped with fear as the rat began to rant on to her about how the Light had forsaken them and how Ellery had stolen her dreams, her voice, was living her life and then a sentence sent chills down her spine and her heart went near still. "Your flower has wilted because you left it in the dark."
And before another sound was made, a pain like fire and ice mixed in one tore through her throat, a wash of heat rushing down her chest as the world turned to black and Ellery, the darling of the Arts District fell to the ground as the rat released her. Leaving her there to die. Alone. Afraid. Without her voice.

[Nutmeg91]

Authors note. Hello all. May I please submit my character for this game? An anime inspired solar punk world sounds like something I need in my life! I'm sorry it's a bit rough. I'm on mobile but I will edit this later.

Thank you for considering my application!

Detective Lass Name: Irene Keene Race: Elf Gender Identity: ♀️ Class: Investigator Archetype: 1 per class Traits: Just 2 please Alignment: Chaotic Good Description: A tall young Elvin woman. She has black hair, which is always elaborately braided (The better to hide lock picks in). She has a natural resting bitch face, but when she smiles it vanishes like a bad dream. She seems to have a never ending wardrobe of long coats, with pockets in interesting places. Early Life in a Utopia: Irene was a surprise to her parents, a school principle and a history teacher who were comfortably middle aged and beginning to consider retirement. The coming of a baby rearranged their plans severely, but they would do it again. They were a happy family. Little Irene was a wide eyed and curious child, who reignited their passion for their position within the society. Even thought her endless questions often made them uncomfortable. (Why can't we leave the walls? Where did Mr Evens go? Where do the beasts come from? Who gets rid of the Beasts?) Irene soon garnered a reputation for mischief. Not because of willful nastiness, but because when the answers she wanted were not forthcoming, Irene would take it upon herself to find them herself. Which led to many a lecture, Irene, mind your business. Irene, a young lady of Oroka knows her place. Irene, darling Irene, stop. But their comfortable life would be changed forever, when on one exceptionally memorable occasion, Irene went missing. Iris closed her eyes with a shaky breath, and once again rubbed her simple necklace between her fingers. This simple distraction did little to ease her anxiety. She hoped that when she opened here eyes again, her nine year old daughter would appear, running up the garden path with her braids flying behind her, full of apologies and sheepish requests for dinner. At 4.00, when the sun was beginning its twilight decent in earnest, her husband Basil had sent their daughter on a small errand to deliver a book to a family friend, and exchange it for a small mint plant. Irene knew the way well, and was permitted to stay for a play date as long as she returned home as the lanterns were being lit. As the kitchen clock struck 11, Iris opened her eyes. Her hope did not manifest. She groaned, and jogged to the hall to put on her coat. She would go and join her husband in his search for their ragamuffin child. Iris threw her front door open with her coat half up her solders, and turned to shut the door behind her. When she turned around, her breath stopped. Just closing the gate, was her Basil, carrying the limp form of Irene. Their eyes met, both wide, urgent and afraid. When Irene was tucked into her own bed, Iris moved to the telephone to call a doctor, only to be stopped by Basil. "No. She is unhurt. She just needs to rest." he murmured. His long fingers taking the hall phone out of her hand and replacing in on its cradle. "Basil." she started, incredulous "She is unconscious! She has been missing for hours! Where did you find her? Why won't she wake up? Why are you so... calm?" Basil once again met his wife's eyes, and slowly took her into his arms. He pressed his lips against her hair, so she would not see them trembling. They stood like that in silence for a moment. Then, with a detached voice, Basil began to talk. His voice trembled a little, but did not beak as he recounted who he had found their child with. "I tried all of her class mates. All of them. Even Sara Smythe, though I know they've fallen out. None of them had seen Irene. I looked in the Library, the Cafe's. The train station. I was about to call the guard. But one of them approached me. They were... odd. Their uniform. It wasn't ... I havn't seen a uniform like it before." He drew away from his wife's embrace, and paused to look into Irene's room. She slept, her breaths coming evenly and smoothly. He closed the door and continued. "They led me towards the Temple of Gal. They told me to wait just at the gates. That place. My god that place. Iris. I never want to return there. The statues... I paced around the gate and I felt their eyes on me! There is something wrong with that place! Don't ask me what, just ... something. Then a eleven woman came to me. She was carrying Irene! Out poor little girl. She was in the same state you see now!" Iris stood, appalled and aghast. "Not... surely that wasn't Lady Seska?" her voice dropped as she uttered the name. Basil half shrugged. "I don't know! All she said was the Irene would be fine with time, and that it would be in her best interest to keep her on a tighter leash! I... I...I... Iris this is all my fault! I should never have sent her out alone! I know what she is like! She is the only soul who could find trouble in a paradise! Why did I? How could I?" He could no longer restrain his terrified sobs. And his wife clasped herself to him, mixing her tears with his as they fell freely onto the hall carpet. All this time, Irene slept on, deep and dreamless. It would be many months before she would start to dream again. Life Before Shadow: After her troubling disappearance and re-emergence, Irene woke to find her world changed. For a time, she was listless and quiet in her bed. Her parents told their friends that she was recovering from a fever. Irene's room resembled a florist with all the get well soon bouquets crammed onto every surface. If Irene took pleasure in these tokens, she did not show it. It took a fortnight until Irene began to talk again. Though even then, she could not tell her parents what happened. She could not tell them that as she was walking home, mint in hand, she spotted a severe, well dressed man and woman talking in hushed tone. She could not tell them that she saw a gun barrel, which briefly peaked from a holster as the man absently adjusted his coat. She could not tell them that she had intended to only follow them for a little while... just to see what they might do with a gun in Oroka. But as she trailed the curious pair closer and closer to the temple she had lost her common sense to the burning thrill of adventure! And then she was caught. Then she was led to strange trio, who looked at her with amusement, annoyance and aggravation. Then she knew nothing at all. Her recovery from the experience was slow. She found herself drawing away slightly from others, becoming a little more aloof. And to her parents dismay, a newfound anger manifested in their previously happy child. When her unanswered questions were asked, she would spit newer, sharper questions with venom. Her parents began to discipline her. Not cruelly. At least, they didn't think it was cruel. But to Irene she could not think of anything nastier then having her parents try to shave away the traits they had previously doted upon. As they years went on, their relationship soured. When Irene reached the age of independence she became a journalist. Partially to rebel against her parents, and partly for the opportunities it may provide her to find out what exactly happened on that life changing day. But she found this role unfulfilling. How many hard hitting news stories are there in a perfect world? None. Fortunately Irene is saved from a life of fluff pieces the day her curiosity, once again, told her to followed a trio of powerful looking individuals beyond the wall... Life in Shadow: Irene thought that a short career of all nighters and running all over the city made her suited for the trials. She was rudely surprised. Her newly acquired telepathic powers did not really help her in the grueling physical trials. But she persevered. She put in long hours to train. Each day she grew a little stronger. Each time she fell down she got up a little faster. Here, in the Shadows, she could ask the questions she had so often pondered. How does Okoka stay safe? the Shadows. What lies beyond the wall? Nothing good. Unfortunately her old job as a journalist could not help her in a secret organisation. But fortunately she was able to find a compromise. With her keen observation skills, endless desire for questions, Irene now works as an investigator for the Shadows. Nothing in the world will stop her from finding the mysteries inside, and outside the wall.

[Panthas]

Kretoq the Silent Name: Kretoq Race: Goblin Gender Identity: Male Class: Stalker Archetype: Vigilante Traits: Still pondering these. Alignment: Neutral Good Description: Rather hard to pick out of a crowd, unless you look down, Kretoq is a towering 3 feet of green flesh that looks more slack than it should. He has the odd burn mark here and there from too much youth spend helping his father repair machinery. His eyes do pop though, at least above ground where violet eyes aren’t as common as amongst the lower, darker dwelling members of the city. His limb appear somewhat rubbery, and when he isn’t actually trying he can be very clumsy, but underneath that lurks a dexterous set of muscles that allowed him to be a good watch repairer apprentice and spry. When he isn’t in an overly jovial mood he tend to trudge, feet scraping and scuffing into whatever surface he is walking on, and his arms swing more like a lumbering giant, but then all height is relative. Drooping, long ears to put an elf or gnome to shame and a rather disconcerting amount of pointy teeth complete the goblins face to the world, and well it isn’t exactly pretty. Oh there is nothing overly scarred or grotesque about it, but in comparison to a normal elf or human, goblins are not exactly lookers, and Kretoq lives up to that stereotype. His gaze can linger uncomfortably long on an object of study, including other people, with those popping purple eyes taking in as much detail as possible, and when he grins, it is like a glistening row of knife points on display between very thin lips. He tries to dress decently, finding the occasional “fashionable” accessory to wear, such as a trimmed coat, but for the most part his clothing is just simple, sturdy pants and shirts, though he also likes to shift into a more flowing and breezy style when the mood strikes, cause sometimes you just want to feel the flutter of air as it moves through cloth. He is generally pretty self effacing, fading away into the background, except when he can come up with what he considers a random factoid. Early Life in a Utopia: Growing up in a family of industrious goblins, Kretoq spent his formative years in the bowels of the city, hidden away from the light of the world for most of the day whilst his parents went about their tasks. His mother was a fungi farmer with some bug herding on the side, whilst his father was a mechanic that kept things like circulation systems running, and helped to keep the lighting systems up as well. So while he was raised somewhat in the dark, it was not a gloomy, dripping cave. It might have been that growing up there helped to nurture what could almost be called a festering. A curiosity about things. The caves were lit, at least mostly, but there was a mystery about them, always a question of what was around the next corner, behind the next door, that lead to a youth filled with exploration. While he got to devote some time to exploring the above ground city as well, it wasn’t quite the same, as all was laid bare in the light. That appetite of curiosity was whetted with a fear one day. Whilst exploring one of the less active tunnels, some abandoned mineshaft from who knows when, a scream had echoed down the tunnels, the bouncing of the sounds off the walls giving them an odd undulation to them. He had heard the cry of "Monster! Call the…!" Before another scream cut the voice off and his lessons had kicked in. He had run pell mell for the nearest door, the tunnels always filled with a series of water and air tight heavy duty doors for any unexpected gas or liquid incidents. Luckily the heavy, strongly built door was expertly balanced, enough so that the 8 year old Kretoq was able swing it close just as a ravening mass of tendrils and flesh rounded a corner, catching sight of the goblin before he slammed closed and locked the pressure door. The banging that followed left him hoping he wasn’t deaf as he ran with the pattering of feet to find the nearest adult and breathless say a monster was loose in that tunnel. He had gotten to watch a party of Shadows go in, all cloak and dagger, looking magnificent in their gear, and dreams of that had happily tamped down on nightmares of the ravening horror. Life Before Shadow:Before being called to a more exciting life, Kretoq had been apprenticed to a watchmaker, a rather aged elf who found the somewhat coarse and curious goblin an interesting option for apprenticeship when the clerics had offered up their rolling list of new citizens to employ. Duties had been somewhat varied. Part of it had of course been the act of learning about the inner workings of watches and other mechanical machines the tinkerer deemed interesting enough to take on. However, he also made willing use of the young goblins dexterity and climbing capacities to reorganize and access boxes in a store room that were, well a mite dusty. Truth be told, the goblin wasn’t yet sure about the job as a life career, but he enjoyed was he was learning, the intricacies of a well-crafted machine, be it watch or overengineered mousetrap. While of course his father was obviously disappointed that his son hadn’t been selected to follow in his footsteps, especially after all that time helping him in the tunnels, they were happy he had been accepted and employed. An apprenticeship ended The tinkle of the shop bell broke the morning silence, right on time, even as its ringing gave warning to the gust of wind that entered the shop like an eager child, cavorting across the floor, swirling what few dust particles it could find in the rather pristine shop, and behind it came Kretoq, an odd tread in his step as the small figure stepped inside and closed the door, causing yet another jangle of the bell. Looking up from the pristine marble countertop, the silver haired elf Ishnetiss smiled at the sight and laid down the glasses perched on his angular nose, setting them beside the watch that was spread out in neat and orderly pieces upon a white cloth. "Ah, I wasn’t sure if I would see you again young one, but it gladdens my heart that I do." His smile was warm, even if there was something in his eyes that Kretoq couldn’t name. The young goblin, looking rather nervous and unsure of himself, holding a rolled up length of black cloth in one hand, and something glimmering clutched in the other. He was dressed in a sturdy looking pants, a dark crimson color to offset his pale green skin. Taking a few rather trepidatious steps to the counter, bare feet whispering across the floor, young Kretoq looked up at the elf, shaking a little, his head barely topping the counter. "I’ve been…….recruited? I have to leave Ishnetiss, I’m sorry." He laid his clutched items on the counter, revealing a small, plain pocket watch next to the cloth bundle before he dropped his head and stared at the grains of wood of the front of the counter. "They told me, youngling, and I’m sorry to see you go, you were a very promising apprentice, but the Light calls to us all, and your task is one most cannot walk the path of. " The smile on the elf’s lips turned sad, even as the words he spoke were true. He dropped his own green eyes to the bundle of cloth and the watch. Reaching out to take up the plain brass pocketwatch and clicking it open, his smile broadened as he watched the ticking of the secondhand around the face and nodded. With a click again it closed, the sound sharp and crisp in the silence of the shop. Glancing back to the cloth, he laid an aged hand on it, the back of the slender hand covered in spidery veins. "I wish I could give this to you, you are worthy of these tools, but I don’t believe you are to take anything with you. If you want to ask whoever takes you in, I will happily send them to you, you are well matched with them." Absently patting the cloth, causing a rather muffled clink before he looked down at the young goblin and nodded, apparently answering a mental question. "But come, this is your last day, and there will be no official work, let us instead part as friends and share a bit of comradery first, for our paths might not cross again." Having spoken these words, the usually work heavy elf rose from the stool he was sitting on, standing tall and towering above the tiny goblin, and he strode with a surprisingly strong for one seemingly so delicate, and took a slip of paper from next to the door and hung it there, declaring the shop closed for the moment. Escorting Kretoq, his now former apprentice, into the back and started to brew some tea so that he could share stories with him and give the youngling one last day of relaxation and kindness before he set off on his new mission. Kretoq followed, his eyes darting everywhere. He paused at the counter, looking not at the granite one, but instead the glass fronted and topped one to the left of him, filled with all manner of watches and a few other knickknacks. His shuffling feet took him to it, drawing his body along almost subconsciously as he looked at the ticking faces, the well ordered, in sync movement of hands. His purple eyes swept over them, and for a moment he experienced not the loving feeling of a well honed machine, but instead a revulsion, a vision of everything in order, as he liked it, and it made him want to run screaming from the shop. Not just machines, but people, locked into their tasks, moving in accordance with the driving force and demands of the city, the light. A shudder went through him. They were all cogs, everyone knew their place and moved as demanded. One giant clock of a city. And was that bad? Weren’t people content and doing what they were good at doing? Maybe so, but someone had to protect them, someone had to act on the unknown threats. Someone had to know and do things outside of the ordinary normalcy, and for a long time he had wanted to be that someone, not always consciously, but still enough a part of him wanted to step outside of being a cog. There was a polite cough from the back room and he smiled at his master’s gentle prodding. He gave one last look at the watched, once again items of beauty, before he headed for the back room, ready to have nice conversation, good tea, and if luck was with him, he might even find out what an elf who had lived far longer than he had knew about the Shadows. Life in Shadow: Kretoq learned the art of stealth. He is small, limber, light on his feet when he wants to be, so it came naturally to him. Pairing this up was learning to use weapons, something that at first was rather hard for the goblin. Not being generally given to a violent nature, he had been clumsy, ungainly with a blade and seemed about ready to drive Mistress Zenphina, the halfling blade user who was trying to teach him these things, to distraction. Rumor was that his name had become a curse on her lips when he wasn’t around. It wasn’t until he finally retapped the memory of his encounter in the dark, heard the dying screams of another person, and remembered the horrifying monster that had been lunging for him that he had finally accepted the ability to use weapons. After that he had applied his mind to it and better mastered it, enough to stop being cursed at by Mistress Zenphina at the very least. Along with these he was taught to start categorizing his opponents, finding their weak spots and applying the point of a blade to just the right location if he could pull it off. While he is obviously a small individual, this helps in his own attempts to fight as otherwise his rather small weapons tend to induce sneering, at least until they see him fillet a dummy. While he doesn’t have magic and can’t call upon such arcane abilities to save him, he has been able to tap into attack forms that seem somewhat magical, at least they involve acting in ways beyond the knowing of normal individuals. Combined with his smallness and stealthy nature, he is able to perform admirably, at least he thinks, on a field of battle, although even he wonders about how it will function if needed to be called upon within the bounds of the city.

[Pendragon]

Alright time is up. I am going to read through everything today and try to get a decision in a few hours.

Thanks for the interest everyone!

[Unforgiven]

good luck everyone!