Stradia: The Fourth War

[Azisien]

(Sorry Mods, have to double post due to being a long winded asshole)

It's summer, and Stradia returns after two years. I couldn't resist. There are a lot of RPs popping up right now, which makes me nervous, but I figured I should throw mine out there before MORE pop up. Stradia RP is:

-Fantasy
-Not god-moddy
-Moderately paced
-Awesome (subjective)

And without further ado...the introduction to the "new" Stradia:

Day One

A soft rapping on the oak door signaled the arrival of one of the sages. The man sitting at the desk within the study wrote on a piece of parchment with a feather-tipped pen until he heard the knocks. He was very handsome, with flawless tanned skin that seemed to glow, bright green eyes, a strong chin, and shoulder length blonde hair. The pen stopped writing, and he looked at the door from across his desk. “Come in.” His voice was vibrant, and although he spoke normally the words filled the air like a calming music.

The door opened and a much older man entered the room. He was short, about five foot six inches tall, and carried a long wooden staff that he used as a walking stick. His hair was mostly white, save for a few strands of lingering grey; remnants of ages past. Popping out of the hair were two long ears ending in points. “The scry with Venuria has been established, my lord. He wants to speak with you, and he isn’t being very patient.”

The man in the chair stood, revealing his tall, muscular frame, at least six foot three. “Gorn, what are you doing here?”

Gorn tapped his staff and pointed it out into the hall. “I teleported, but never you mind that. You have a very pressing issue at hand. Come!”

“It is very interesting that you address me as lord one moment, and order me around as if you were my father the next.” The man said sternly.

A smile broke out onto the face of the aging elf. “I do not mind formalities, but you should always remember I am your elder by two hundred years, Anduil Lightbringer.”

Anduil came around from behind the desk and they both left the study. All of the walls were carved in solid stone, denoting that they were within some kind of castle or fortress. Every few steps, a metal bracket housed an ever-bright torch on the wall. “Well, my elder, I would ask you not use that name.”

“Why not? It is a fitting name, after all.” Gorn replied.

“Perhaps, but that was so long ago.” Years of history rushed through both of their minds like a powerful river.

Gorn chuckled politely. “It was only twenty five years ago, Anduil! Through my eyes, that was not so long ago! But very well, very well, I will not use the name.”

After turning down several different hallways, all of them empty save for the torches, the pair finally encountered two human guards before a large door. Anduil turned to Gorn and asked. “Have they mentioned what they want to talk about with such urgency?”

“No, my lord, but judging by the brief dialogue I had with them back in Gole, I strongly suggest you begin readying the northern forces.” Gorn answered.

A look of sadness momentarily passed over Anduil’s face, but his features hardened and he looked forward. The two guards opened the doorway for them and they passed into the new chamber. It was a scrying room, large and rectangular with an abnormally high ceiling. In the center of the chamber, four strange obelisks, each ten feet tall and covered in the common runic language used for magic, hummed audibly and fired colorful lights into the high ceiling above. The top of the chamber resembled a light show. Gorn looked at the obelisks. “For all the study of magic in the world, not a single scholar has answered why the obelisks give off the light…”

Anduil ignored the elf and walked between two of the obelisks on his way into the center of the room. To everyone looking at him from the outside, he simply vanished. However, to himself nothing in the environment changed, but a man was now standing thirty feet ahead of him, within the magical rectangle created by the obelisks.

“And so the great Anduil graces me with his presence.” The man was the same height as Gorn, but his race was indeterminate due to the full set of armor he wore. The plate mail was perfectly crafted for his body, with intricate weaves of grey and white gems adorned over the black metal. His helmet was the same, ending in two long metal horns and covering his entire face save for two eye slits and a mouth hole. He even carried a short spear, a little shorter than himself, of identical make. At the base of the razor sharp spearhead, a deep red feather had been attached with a small metal ring. As the man paced back and forth with an impossible ease for his load, his long, purple-blue cloak dragged across the stone floor.

“Jorluke.”

“I am glad you have finally grown weary of sending your aides to deal with me.” Jorluke said coolly.

“What do you want? Why do you request an audience with the King of Kenshura?” Anduil began firing the barrage of questions he said.

“Request? I should hope the newly crowned King of Venuria may request an audience with you, whenever he pleases. We are such close neighbours after all.” Were his face visible, Jorluke’s smile would be clear to all. The statement struck Anduil like a dagger in the chest. Pain almost as deep as the real sensation crawled up and down his spine.

“You are their new king?” It was all the Lightbringer could muster momentarily.

“Do not stall with me. You know what I want.” Jorluke tapped the butt of his shortspear against the floor.

Anduil remained silent as dark thoughts raced through his mind. As if the pair had swapped roles, Jorluke now stood still while Anduil started to pace. Jorluke wanted the artifacts. Magic and people’s prowess in it had grown over the centuries, but there had been at least one monumental exception. The artifacts had been recovered all around Kenshura, one by one, for centuries. Scholars had concluded that the final one had been recovered twenty-five years ago. Though Anduil had no idea whether that was true, he remembered that day very well, for it was he that recovered it. Through agony, blood, and darkness he had secured it. He had even bore witness to the awesome power of just one of the artifacts. Suffice to say, Anduil already knew he would do everything and anything in his power to keep them from Jorluke. He would gladly die; he would sacrifice entire armies. He would even sacrifice all of Kenshura. The world did not deserve having that kind of power go to that kind of man. “You’re wasting your time.”

“The artifacts, or your kingdom, Lightbringer!” Jorluke hissed.

“I scattered them in the ocean. None of us will ever see them again.” Anduil lied straight into the miniscule eye slits of that demonic helmet.

“Your kingdom, then.” Jorluke stomped off in the other direction. The Venurian king passed through the other side of far obelisks and vanished. The scry ended abruptly, and the colourful lights sprinkling out of the magic towers ceased. Gorn appeared calmly at Anduil’s side, but his face was the same as his king’s: grim and suddenly lacking in colour.

“He’s coming. We have to move quickly. Get back to Gole and rally the militia. I will coordinate the northern garrisons to fortify Ateria, Socre, Gole, Abatha, Heryo, and Weste. When you return, contact Darren and Elmric and tell them to prepare as well. I will begin a scry with Hebridean, Sirichi, and Durin immediately.” Anduil started.

“My king…” Gorn tried to interrupt, but the king was already on a roll.

“Do as I say, old friend. Go, now!” Anduil raised his voice. Both had known each other long enough to not let it escalate beyond that point. Gorn turned on heel and left the chamber. The strong oak doors snapped shut, and Anduil was alone in the scrying chamber.

“Avelia’s Light…”

[Azisien]

Stradia

Stradia is the largest known continent in the world and the only significant landmass (there are some islands here and there). It is home to millions of people of different races, and most possible ecosystems and terrain types can be found somewhere on it. There are two major countries, Kenshura and Venuria. Many issues, from geographic barriers to racism, have separated the two nations for centuries. In the past hundred years there have been two minor armed conflicts at their border, and one major war that took the fight halfway through Kenshura to the city of Midgaard.

Kenshura

Its people occupy the central regions of Stradia. The border with Venuria is drawn along the aptly named Border Forest to the north. This gargantuan, perpetual forest stretches for the three hundred and fifty miles of Stradia’s northern girth. It is also dozens of miles thick, forging the barrier between the two nations. Ateria, Socre, Gole, Abatha, Heryo, and Weste are the largest villages in the northern realm, while the rest of the lands have been colonized by small farming and logging communities. Due to the relatively low population of the north, the garrison maintained there is small compared to the central and southern regions. The second largest city in Kenshura is Midgaard, which is geographically in the center of the country, and the focal point of religious worship around the second most popular god in Kenshura; the dragon god Bahamut. The capital city is the uncreatively named Kenshura City, and home to over one million permanent residents. It is located in the southwest. The third largest settlement is the dwarven stronghold Silverstone in the southeast. The most popular god of the realm is Avelia, god of Light.

Venuria

The Venurians inhabit the northern region of Stradia, from the Border Forest for three hundred miles up to the polar ice caps. A great deal of Venurian land is quite barren, and suited for mining and quarries. The only significant logging operations occur in the cities that hug the Border Forest and in the more forgiving locations by the coasts. The largest city on the continent is the Venurian capital, Zora, housing one and a half million permanent residents. Venurians (or at least their leaders) have shown a great deal of hostility towards Kenshura in the past. Each of the three armed conflicts in the last century have been Venurians stepping onto Kenshurian soil. The Venurian pantheon is quite large and complex; most villages worship their own deity.

(Sentient) Races of Stradia

I hope you know what humans, elves, and dwarves are. Human life expectancy in Stradia is about 65 for a commoner. Dwarven life expectancy is 115 and elves often see 240. The only possible "hybrid" combination is the Half-Elf, the offspring of a human and an elf. They are sterile.

Trolls: Ranging from six and a half to seven and a half feet tall, trolls are naturally muscular and bulky. They are always used for manual labour or as grunts in the military, since they are not often intellectual enough to learn academic or mental professions. They are immensely strong, and very fast during their charge, but they lack agility. Trolls commonly use greatswords, greataxes, and large double weapons. They will sometimes use a crossbow, but they're a lousy shot.

Gargoyles: Ranging anywhere from seven to ten feet in height, gargoyles are the largest known sentient creatures on Stradia. Due to their natural size and prowess, they are excellent warriors. Their mental capabilities are as good as any human, dwarf, or elf, so magicians are also a possibility. Gargoyles have tails for balance, but possess only mediocre flight abilities due to their (comparatively) stubby wings (for their size). They can take off, hover, and glide for short periods. Gargoyles like to skewer their prey with spears, lances, and other polearms. They are strong, agile, and innately better warriors than any other race on the continent.

Dragonkin: Any priest of Kenshuria would tell you, "They are a gift from Bahamut." They are small, bipedal dragons. Ranging anywhere from 6 to 9 feet in height, they are menacing to look upon. Glinting scales, deadly claws, massive wings (unlike gargoyles), and muscular tails. Most dragonkins live a docile, peaceful life, despite these formidable traits. Dragonkin are very rare, sacred creatures who are virtually worshipped by Kenshurians. Since they are so rarely seen in combat, no one has ever commented on their prowess compared to gargoyles, though most would believe they are the strongest race on the continent.

Magic in Stradia

Magic is common in Stradia. It is used to craft items, objects, even buildings. It is used to improve crops and as entertainment. It is even used in combat. Mastering magic is a lifelong task which few ever complete. Just learning the basics requires years of intense mental training. There is no explanation for the origin of magic, it is as real in Stradia as the earth beneath one's feet. Priests will tell you it is the "power of the soul" which fuels magic, they might be right.

Not only is magic hard to learn, it is physically and mentally draining. This is particularly why combat magicians are so rare, often times the amount of power needed to slay another being is enough to do the magician in. Through time, however, more and more humans, dwarves, and elves are being born with a natural knack for learning magic. No one knows why.

Magic has been categorized into several different schools. There are no actual boundaries within magic, it is simply a means of classification for the people of Stradia.

Elementalism: Fire, Water, Air, and Earth. The manipulation, creation, and control of these naturally occurring elements. This can include anything from fireballs, tornados, whirlpools, etc.

Conjuration: Conjurers can create objects, small or large, depending on their skill level. They have been known to summon entire beings forth, able to control them at will. Many conjurers dabble in Elementalism, since this often leads to the ability to summon forth Elementals.

Enchantment: Enchanters can temporarily change objects or persons, bending them as their will would command. Enchanters may be able to make a sword sharper than any smith ever could. But their key strength lies in the ability to take control of other people's mind's temporarily.

Shapeshifting: Many scholars believe this is an offshoot of Enchantment, but for the moment this is considered its own school. A man becoming a wolf, or an elf becoming a sparrow are just two examples of spells that fall within the realm of Shapeshifting.

Healing: While this form of magic may be tied in with any of the others schools, it has such an important place in society, it was given its own classification. A healer can cure venoms, stop diseases, and close wounds with life-giving magic. Typically, their magic only heals organic damage.

The Gathering Storm

War is upon Stradia. The northernmost villages of Kenshura are under attack by a mighty Venurian army. This act of treachery has occurred so swiftly, Kenshuria's larger army will not be able to mobilize and march across half of the continent in time to save the northern realms. The garrison in the north is small and has started mingling with local militias to increase its fighting power.

There are two sides to this story, and people can have a character on either side. You can be fighting with Venuria, or you can be fighting with Kenshura.

“Team Kenshura”

You have come to the lumber and farming village of Gole in the north-center of Kenshurian territory. It is the second largest village in the northern realm, behind Ateria. The leader of the village is Gorn Altreas, an ancient and respected elf and elementalist. It has all the amenities of a small town, including defenses: four guard towers, full wooden walls, blacksmiths, temples, a community hall, and a militia barracks. Five thousand people live in and around the village, while the greater area is home to fifteen thousand. The nearest villages are Socre to the northeast and Weste to the…you guessed it, west. HUMAN, ELF, DWARF ONLY (or PM me with your proposal).

“Team Venuria”

You have traveled through the expansivd Border Forest with the invading force that will attack the village of Gole. Your precise role will be determined at a later time. The general of the army is Lazarith, the Blood Druid. HUMAN, TROLL, GARGOYLE ONLY (or PM me with your proposal).

Character Skill System

Melee
Ranged
Any of the Magic Schools

A hero has several points to allocate to skills, and receives more during the course of the RP. More points in one skill means greater and greater proficiencies. This will help gauge the “level” of allies and enemies alike, and will be directly reflected in my (or our) responses to encounters, actions, and so on. For more information see this thread: http://www.nuklearforums.com/showth...hlight=Stradia

Character Sheet

Name:

Age:

Race:

Allegiance: Kenshura or Venuria (you can be Neutral, such as a freelance mercenary, but you must still side with one country to participate)

Appearance: When I look at you on any given day, what would I see?

Personality: Just rough. You can develop your personality in game.

Bio: Nice and detailed please. If you need information about Stradia, just ask.

Equipment: Clothes, travelling supplies, weapons, armor. May also include things like mounts (ponies and horses only, please). These are probably integrated into your appearance, but if you need to be specific about what kind of armor or weapon you use, etc.

Skills: You are all exceptional warriors and start with 5 skill points.

[TheBlindMime]

(I was gonna shoot for a monk Dragonkin but I became so attached to being a dwarf I gave up without having to be told no.)

Name: Loki Noclan (Swordforger)

Age: 42

Race: Dwarf!

Allegiance: Kenshura

Appearance: A stout young dwarf of admirable width, with short red hair, a light tan, dark emerald eyes and a strong jaw line. He is surprisingly and oddly cleanshaven and has been for the last few years. He stands tall for a dwarf at an impressive four foot eight inches he commands a heavy sense of respect from others. His clothes are simple, a stained white tunic shirt under tanned leather overalls which have been scorched in several seemingly random places. Finally despite the warm smile on his face he almost always seems a little sad.

Personality: Friendly and more then willing to make new friends in his travels, he's always especially nice to elves (oddly) and goes out of his way to help others (especially elves). Despite his amiable nature any prying into his past beyond the last 3 years before he lived in Gole are always met with resistance, further persistence makes the otherwise peaceable Loki angry then he storms off in a huff. Only after an apology and the promise of not asking about it again will Loki return to his former amiable self.

Bio: Loki was raised by the Swordforger tradition from his birth, learning every piece of his heritage as well as his families skill. He studied with an unrelenting desire to learn more, to become the best, to continue his proud families tradtions and pass them on to his children. He grew up in the city of Midgaard, meeting people of all different sizes and races. He was always surprised to see Elves, as his father spoke often of not trusting 'their kind' yet made many prolific deals with any of their people with the money to do so.

Naturally as he grew older he became more curious about the elves, though Loki had always been told they thought Dwarves were garbage and Dwarves thought the same of them he couldn't help but be fascinated by them. He secreted away many nights in his childhood, sneaking out of his home to watch and interact with them, after some time he just became accepted by a family of elves who enjoyed the young dwarf's curiosity and kindly nature. From that point on he had two families, one proud and noble dwarven one and a second secret and powerful elven one.

The Illiuras family allowed Loki to learn the same magic lessons as their true child, Vulni. Vulni was much more adept at magic then Loki ever could hope to be, she master transformations in mere weeks that took Loki months, if not longer. While slightly jealous he never had anything but kind words for his adoptive sister, she in turn did her best to encourage him. Loki was able to live this double life for over two decades before anyone other then his families loyal servants found out. Gorem Slatefist a longtime friend of Loki's always had an Ire in his heart for elves, as any good dwarf should.

After spotting Loki leaving the elven neighborhoods he decided to test Loki, to see if he was truly dwarven. This test resulted in the death of three elves and two dwarfs, Gorem was one of the dwarves to die and Vulni one of the elves. Though the Illiuras family never blamed Loki for the death of their daughter he couldn't help but blame himself for the deaths of all five slain.

Several more years passed, Loki became distant and angry, he stopped visiting the Illiuras entirely and the quality of his workmanship fell sharply. Seeing a problem, finally, Loki's father Dougan stepped in. After receiving only a piece of the story that had put so much weight on Loki's heart Dougan thought he understood where his son's guilt emanated. Dougan explained that Gorm died valiantly assailing the terrible and sickening forces of elves and Loki should be proud that he stood by a 'true warriors' side as he died. He explained further that the Swordforger clan had a long history of slaying elves in battle long ago, before any real semblance of society formed and that those were the glory days. He even displayed the legendary elf slaying weapons of the Swordforger clan, two single handed War Hammers. Dougan then explained that open hatred towards elves that Gorm had was respectable to other dwarves but to survive in today's world they must hide their bloodlust for elves and live in peace with them until the elves 'slip up' and the humans agree that they should be removed.

Shocked by the dichotomy of the butchering nature of his family line and his own personal history Loki spent the next few days locked in his room. Then one morning Dougan awoke to find his son missing along with the family war hammers. In Loki's room he found a pile of hair that was once his proud son's beard at its side was a note with only four words, "A Swordforger no longer."

Over time Loki settled in Gole and began making a life for himself, he's done his best to make friends with all the elves of the village (including Gorn Altreas to whatever degree Azisien decides). Loki has set aside his dwarven heritage both his beard and his heritage until he can cleanse both his name and his weapons of the unnecessary bloodshed that has stained them both.

Equipment: Vulni - A five year old mare pony, she has been in Loki's care since her birth and he fawns over her as if she were his child. She is a sturdy and strong solid red pony more then fit for riding. She's never been fit with armor and Loki would never let her be, 'she's meant for joy riding, not for war fighting' he says.

Blacksmithing tools - Loki always keeps the bar-minimum tools for blacksmithing on hand in what appears to be a bed roll, whenever he travels this is sure to be packed somewhere in his gear. It includes a blacksmith's hammer (doy), tongs, an odd set of five metal pieces that when connected together form a single solid surface (Loki's own design), a flint, some tinder and a bending jig.

Day-to-day rags: Briefly described in the appearance section. Tunic, leather overalls, boots and gloves.

Two single hand War Hammers: Loki has had these weapons for years, the most he's ever said about them was that it was passed down his family line intent on being in the hands of the most able of them. He often speaks of the weapons as if they have minds of their own. He named them Cain and Abel. They call him nothing because they are inanimate Steel. Cain has a cross etched on its side and Abel an Ankh, both of them have spiked back picks.

Fullbody Platemail: Loki has spent many years building and refining his personal armor, allowing for great mobility for his arms but providing great protection for his body. He takes great care of his armor, it shimmers as though it were made of silver and has yet to be used in anything other then a sparing match.

Basics - Bedroll, 25 feet of silk rope, 6 good torches, 3 full canteens (2 ale, 1 water), some stale fruitcake, a straight-razor and a Shapeshifting spellbook.

Skills:
Melee: III
Ranged: -
Magic (Shapeshifting): II

(Not the usual dwarf but he's mine.)

[Demetrius]

Looks like I have some reading to do, but count me in. I'll post up a toon when I finish reading.

[Loki, The Fallen]

If you'd like another, I would like to join. Since this would be my second RP on the board, i'd like to know what "Moderately Paced" means. Slower then Evil's Return, or about the same speed?

[Azisien]

I don't actually follow Evil's Return, so I couldn't tell you. If I had to guess, I might say slower than ER, but it depends on the number of people in the end. The previous Stradia sometimes did 10 posts a day, sometimes 1 post a day, but usually at least one major advancement every 1-3 days.

Course, school was in when I did it last time. That might change things for me at least. Either way, I like taking my time with RPs, allowing for lots of development and fleshiness.

[TheBlindMime]

Does this rp follow the same storyline as the original stradia you put up?

If so I'll refrain from reading it to add to the suspense of playing it this round.

[Jtab]

Character Sheet

Name: Bentis Fairtide

Age: 19

Race: Human

Allegiance: Kenshura

Appearance: You see a human male of average height who appears lean though fairly muscular. His light brown hair sits messily atop a defined yet forgettable face punctuated by a set of olive green eyes. His skin is tanned a few shades lighter than his hair, giving him the look of someone who hasn’t seen a good bath in days.

Personality: Good natured though crass, Bentis will look out for himself in most situations. Concerned first and foremost with survival, he is unlikely to blindly obey commands or take risks without assessing the situation himself. Although he can co-operate and work in groups, he is more accustomed to and comfortable working alone. Despite appearing self centered and at times uncaring, Bentis is usually working towards, or at least search for, a greater goal.

Bio: Orphaned at an age to young to remember, Bentis grew up on the streets of Midgaard. The only family he has known where those who could find use in a small child. It was on these busy streets that he gained a swift set of hands, and the nearby shadows where he learned how to not be seen. For years he would lift a coin purse here and there to appease those who granted him “lodging”. They would keep the coin and toss a crust of bread to keep their pet nourished. Upon reaching early adolescence, Bentis grew sick of being the dog to an unworthy master. He also tired of ducking the guard who had grown to recognize his unremarkable face. Surprisingly Bentis found honest work rather quickly. A local merchant named Alazar, would pay a couple copper to have his errands run for him. Over time, Bentis grew to think of Alazar as a distant father though it was no secret that Alazar thought much less of the young boy. Time passes and Bentis finds himself a peasant with few belongings and no purpose.

Equipment:
Ironwood quarterstaff
Ochre brown leather tunic
Padded boots
Simple dagger kept in a sheath on his right leg
30ft of rope with an iron hook tied firmly to one end
A leather side pouch containing make-shift lock picks and a sharpening stone
A set of thin, open finger, leather gloves

Skills: Melee V



PM me with any questions or concerns. I'm writing this while barely conscious.

[Aieris]

Name: Aieris Adelphie

Age: 42

Race: Half-Elf

Allegiance: Kenshura

Appearance: Standing a mere five feet three inches from the ground, Aieris’ small, lithe form and pale skin are the spitting image of an elf, albeit shorter. Russet brown hair and dark brown eyes continue the general motif of darkness portrayed by her clothing, though they as well are slightly softened by a pair of rectangular maroon glasses.

Personality: Although rather shy, Aieris is not afraid to make her opinion known when she feels mistakes are being made. Other than that, and an unnatural stubbornness, Aieris is extremely slow to make friends, though loyal once friends have been made. Being a half elf, she has remained separate from the mutual hatred of the Elves and Dwarves, and considers them with the same general disdain she feels for humans.

Bio: For the first 20 years of her life, Aieris was raised by what could only be described as god-parents. Jan and Hodric for years raised her as best they could from their tiny cottage which lay somewhere north of Socre, on the edge of the border forest near Venuria.

Jan and Hodric were simple farmers, and raised Aieris the only way they knew how. She was taught to hunt at a young age by Hodric, and so became reasonably proficient with the bow. Jan imparted her limited knowledge of the more gentle arts such as reading, but both Aieris’ parents were limited in their understanding of the more enchanting aspects of the world and so she learned little of the mystic arts.

While the secluded life she and her parents lead was not displeasing, Aieris always felt that something was wrong. Not only were Jan and Hodric too old to have given birth to her, she did not share her human parents appearances, for both her parents were of larger builds, with flaxen hair and clear blue eyes.

Still, the comfort of her home and the enjoyment of her youth mattered more to her for years than the mysteries behind her relation to her parents. However, as time passed, the yearning to know more grew steadily until one night, shortly after she had turned twenty, she finally asked her parents to explain why she was so different.

As Jan moved to the fireplace on the other side of their small cottage to boil water for tea, Hodric began his tale with a gloomy voice and downcast eyes.

“About twenty years ago now, Jan and I lived here alone, much as we always have and will for as long as we both remain alive. Even though it was long ago though, I can still remember the day you came to us. Strangely enough, the sun was shining brightly that morning; not a cloud in the sky. Jan was hanging laundry to dry, and I had just begun to make some repairs to a chair that had broken on me the day before. Anyway, before long I heard Jan yelling for me from the other side of the house, so I dropped what I was doing and ran over to her.”

Jan returned with tea for all, and sat down in silence as Hodric continued his story.

“When I got to Jan, she was busily wrapping one of our best quilts around a tall, emaciated, yet beautiful, woman. Jan took a bundle of dirty cloth from her, and yelled at me to get her inside the house. Once I had the woman inside and settled, I got a closer look at her. She was an elf, easily distinguishable as such too, but she was bedraggled. Her hair was frayed, dirty, and knotted, and her body was naked and bruised under the quilt Jan had given her. Jan came back in, set the bundle on the bed, told me to run to the well for enough water to draw a bath, and then put an arm around the elven lady and began a hushed conversation. By the time I had the bath drawn and ready, the lady was gone, and it wasn’t until later that Jan told me what had happened.”

At this point, Jan lifted her head and began speaking.

“The woman’s name was Alarren Adelphie. Your mother. You were the bundle of dirty cloth that I brought in with me. The poor woman. She had been held captive for some years by bandits, or brigands, or some kind of evil people, she was not very specific. Raped many times. Over and over. She wound up pregnant with you, but she also managed to escape. She gave birth to you as she ran from her captors, and placed you with us because she could find no other place to keep you safe on such short notice. She came, told me her story, and left you, and we never saw her again.”

As Jan trailed off with her story, Aieris could tell that the retelling was hard on the poor woman. She too was soon lost in thought.

Her reverie was broken when Hodric gently placed a tightly wrapped bundle of grey cloth on the table in front of her.

“We never saw her again, but when you were five these appeared on our doorstep one night. We assume they are from your mother, and assume that she is safe now.”

Unwrapping the bundle, Aieris found a beautifully crafted and polished bow, a quiver of the finest black leather, and a red hilted dagger.

While she did stay with her god parents for some time after that night, Aieris was nonetheless troubled, and eventually left the couple. For ten years she travelled alone, learning the bow and discovering an innate proficiency with fire. Although other elements seemed to evade her completely, with sporadic teachings over the years she became quite adept in her control of flame.

Two years ago she returned to her god-parents, and then began a search for her mother. She came to Gole two months ago to rest after a dishearteningly fruitless earch.

Equipment: Aieris’ travelling equipment consists of several lengths of wire for snares, and a canteen of water.

Clothing: Aieris wears a long black dress that has been lightly reinforced with leather in spots. Light red embroidery around the neckline and a right sleeve that ends in flowing red fabric combined with a red belt at her waist slightly soften the harsh black exterior of her outfit. The left sleeve of her dress has been cut shorter, and clings more closely, than the right sleeve. She also sports low-cut black boots, and black leather gloves.

Weapons: Aieris caries a black recurve bow over her back, a long red hilted dagger sheathed on her left hip, and a black quiver filled with red and black fletched arrows on her right hip.

Skills: Elementalism III (though Aieris will use fire exclusively)
Archery II

[Mintaro]

Name: Penn Balthiere

Age: 24

Race: Human

Allegiance: Kenshura

Appearance: Young, a days growth of beard even though he shaves daily. Brown hair, hazel eyes. Standing at 6'4" with a lean muscular body of 200lbs. Studded leather armor with a brown and green spotted cloak. He wears a carries a quiver on his back and a fine Halberd on his side

Personality: Penn is a sneaky, rough tumbler. He walks soft and hits hard. He is very serious about his killing but will happily joke around with people. He is very experienced and well trained.

Bio: Penn is a member of the Border Rangers. A Guild that is dedicated to knowing wilderness survival and helping out along the border. They take part in everything from scouting, to skirmishing, to rescuing kittens stuck in trees.

Penn was born to Jack and Sarina Balthiere. His father was Captain of the Border Rangers and as such Penn was raised to be one from birth. By age 6 he was able to shoot a bow and handle a sword at least a lot better than any other 6 year olds. His mother is a Talented healer who taught Penn the basics of the art. She would travel around from town to town helping people that the local healer couldn't. Penn was inducted into the Rangers when he became a legal adult. His father died in an Armed skirmish before the beginning of the war. (assuming there was a skirmish within the last 8 years or so?)

Equipment: Quiver of Arrows, compound bow, his Fathers Halberd, Studded leather armor, his Cloak, Small backpack with food, flint and tinder, a water skin, a torch, A hunting knife, Twine and cord for traps, and a compass (though he doesn't need one).

Fathers Halberd: It was a gift from the king to commemorate when Jack became the head of the Border Rangers. It is inlaid with gold and silver, though it remains well balanced. The blade is forged so fine that even after a near lifetime of use it still bears no blemish. It is a very distinct blade and one that would be remembered by any who met Jack or Penn while he wore it. On the hilt is the Symbol of Avelia.

Skills: Melee 2
Ranged 2
Healing 1

OOC: Assuming that Azisien allows for the addition of this organization I figure it is a rather wide spread guild a long the border and if anyone else wants to be a member. I figure that an even split of at least 2 in both Melee and Ranged would be a prerequisite for joining. The extra point could be tossed anywhere.