AOC's Character Archive

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Sora Iliyana Jankynn (sor-uh ill-ee-ah-nuh jan-kin)
Gender: Female
Height: five feet, six inches
Hair: Rust red
Eyes: Golden
Age: 19
Build: Lithe, yet very curvy.
Clothing: In terms of clothing...well, she doesn't wear any, and she has a good reason for it; since she has fur all over her body (see Physical Description, below), she finds that a layer of clothing on top of that makes her feel uncomfortable. Because of that, her fur is really the only clothing she has. It does grow thicker in the winter and thinner in the summer, which gives her some sort of an advantage climate-wise.

Weapons: none
Armor: none

Magic: All kitsune gain more magical abilities as they age. Some of the oldest Kitsune (like the nine-tailed ones) possess a vast amount of magical abilities that make them seem something like demigods. So how many magical abilities can one with a Kitsune spirit inside of her have? In Sora's case, only three:

Fox-fire~This ability generally takes form in either yellow flames or a stream of lightning, and whatever form it takes happens at random times. Sora can fire this as a projectile from her mouth or her eyes, but she has yet to fully master it.

Flying~Quite obviously, this means flying in the air by sheer force of will. Sora has gotten over the airsickness, so this is the one ability she is most proficient with.

Dream Manifestation~This final ability is one Sora has done only once, and found it a very scary experience. Basically, she can willfully project her image in the dreams of another person, provided that she is in some kind of physical contact with said person. She can interact with that person's dreams as she pleases until she leaves. Sora very rarely uses this ability, as the experience frightens her.

In reference to her inner spirit Tokala, the spirit can communicate telepathically to Sora, and to another person provided that said person has the ability of mind communication. Once a week, for up to six minutes, he can take control of Sora's body and speak verbally through it.

Magical Items: none

Skills and Abilities: In terms of physical skills, Sora is very agile and fast, and her reflexes are greater than that of an average human. Her senses of hearing and smell are also incredibly keen. In combat, she is by no means a master; in fact, were it not for her innocent passion not to fight, she could definitely hold her own.

Physical Appearance:

From head to toe, Sora stands at about five feet, six inches, and weighs in at around 120 pounds. Her body has matured and is coincidentally shaped in that way that other women might envy; her waist is flat and perfectly hourglass-shaped, her hips are wide, and her breasts just about bridge the line between medium and large. Her body also has that litheness in it that may suggest she may be an athlete.

But the shape of her body and the size of her breasts aren't what get people's attention first; what really draws eyes (and unfortunately turns them away as well) is the fact that her entire body is covered in a thin layer of brilliant orange fur, with white fur on her stomach and cleavage and black fur on her forearms, hands, calves and feet. Thicker fur helps to cover the nipples and the crotch area. Also, nine bushy fox tails sprout from her tailbone. Her nose and mouth are formed into a short, almost round muzzle that protrudes about an inch and a half away from her head and is colored just like the muzzle of a red fox. Tufts of orange fur jut from her cheeks. Her eyes are positioned in the same fashion as human eyes; in fact, the upper half of her head is human-shaped. Her ears are shaped and colored like a fox's ears, yet are a little thinner and stick out sideways where normal human ears would. She has waist-length dark red hair kept free of styles, and she has a pair of large golden eyes that give off an innocent shimmer.

When Sora walks, runs, or even stands, she does so on her foxlike toes rather than her entire feet, always keeping her ankles and heels elevated, thus adding about two or three inches to her total body height. This feels natural to her, as though she had been walking and standing in this fashion her entire life.

Pictures:

Here's my original pencil sketch of Sora:


And here's the colored version. Credit for the coloring goes to Eve and Kate, admins of The Legacy Guild.


Race: Human with a kitsune spirit inside of her, and thus in the shape of a nine-tailed fox-humanoid

Occupation: Wanderer

Languages:
Common~The language all humans naturally speak.

Common Elvish~Sora has picked up tidbits of this language and has a complete understanding of basic Elvish vocabulary.

Kitsune-Fox~The kitsune have their own language with its own unique script. Now that Sora has a kitsune spirit fused with her own, she can now read and speak this language fluently.

Kingdom/Place of Origin: Amalterre

Personality:

In the long run, thanks to the sudden transformation. Sora's personality has been damaged somewhat. She used to be very cheerful and very friendly. She loved the attention she was getting from her natural beauty, so long as it was clean and didn't involve perverted guys oogling her. Yet that didn't mean she was vain; she always puts other things before her physique.

Because of the transformation, now she is very shy and timid. She is very self-conscious, afraid of what others might think of her appearance, so chances are she won't speak until spoken to. She also spooks quite easily; if someone comes up behind her without notice and speaks, she usually jumps about a foot in the air. She is quite shy, but not to the point of running away and hiding from someone she's just met. She's very wary and nervous when it does come to speaking. She usually stutters with her words when talking with someone she's never met before.

When she does get more acquainted with someone, she starts to become a little more open and a little less shy about herself. After overcoming that shyness, she can be a very sweet, innocent, and caring soul Any new, true friends that she makes, she will remember forever. By "true friends," she means people that will care for her as much as she cares for them. She will try to help them in whatever meager ways she can.

All in all, Sora is really an innocent, good-hearted person who just wants to do the right thing.

Personal History:

Once upon a time, there was a nine-tailed kitsune of great power and great wisdom named Tokala living a simple life of wanderlust. He did not care for showing off his awesome insight; he just liked to live a peaceful life. However, he made enemies with an evil kistune during an encounter, and the two waged battle between each other across the years.

This battle eventually crossed paths with Sora, a beautiful human girl who worked with her mother on a farm in the Amalterre countryside. She had come to her garden to work when she saw the wounded Tokala on the edge of her field. Stunned, Sora went over and asked the Kitsune what had happened. Tokala, being the benevolent being that he was, told her about the battle between him and the evil Kitsune, how he got wounded, and how he drove him off for the time being. Sora quickly gave aid to him out of pity and curiosity. Tokala thanked her for her assistance, and they talked for awhile, getting to know each other. Sora was astonished by this kitsune and his powers.

But then, the evil kitsune came in their midst, and the two of them fought again. Not wanting Sora to get involved in this fight, Tokala took the battle away from her. However, Sora could only slowly follow in complete awe, horror, and concern for Tokala's welfare.

After a vicious battle that lasted another five minutes, Tokala finally wound up victorious...but at a steep price. The other kitsune used his last dying breath to curse Tokala. This curse caused Tokala's body to disintegrate, and his spirit be forever imprisoned in another body. The only other body around was Sora's, so Tokala was flung into her body.

This caused Sora to undergo a strange transformation. Sora's body started to grow orange, white, and black fur, her nose and mouth turned into a short, round muzzle, her ears got larger and furrier, and she sprouted nine large fox tails. She looked at her reflection in a nearby pond. She had turned into a nine-tailed fox girl.

Tokala's soft voice echoed in her head, saying that he was truly sorry and that the only person that could undo the curse was the one who cast it, and he was dead. Sora could only weep. She had nothing to do with their fight, so why was she caught in the middle?

Sora's mother came to see what was going on, and when she saw what her daughter had turned into, she fled out of fear.

Sora spent the rest of the night in tears, damning the unfortunate events that had happened and wishing that she had never cross paths with Tokala.

Eventually, Sora calmed down and saw that they were stuck together forever when she had nothing to do with his business. She slowly came to accept his presence within her new body and his help. Driven by his wanderlust, Sora set off to explore the world.

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Angel Macleod (aen-jell muh-cloud)
Gender: Male
Height: Five feet, eight inches
Hair: White
Eyes: Left eye yellow, right eye turquoise
Age: 30 (but to a human, he looks to be about 18)
Build: Lithe with sinewy muscle
Clothing: Angel is typically seen wearing a long coat made of a durable yet comfortable white material. The coat has six hidden pockets on the inside, some of which carry the tools of his trade, such as lockpicks. He also carries about six small satchels made of a burlap-like material (one of which is his money satchel) within the coat. The coat is worn over a simple, black sleeveless shirt, loose black breeches, and black adventuring boots. He has no weapons on him whatsoever.

Weapons: None
Armor: None

Magic: Angel has the ability to generate and manipulate light magic in the palms of his hands. He can mold this light into solid weapons, which include a sword, an axe, a whip, a bo staff, and even a shield. They can be in any shape or form. His preferred choice is a blade of about 3-1/2 feet in length and has a slight curve to its edge. But once the light leaves his control, it disappears out of existence. His light weapons have no weight besides his own weight behind them, and therefore lack the power to deliver crushing blows. Also, should his weapons leave his control, they dissipate immediately, leaving him vulnerable.

Magical Items: None

Skills and Abilities: Angel is very quick and agile, and his strikes hit fast. He oftentimes resorts to straightforward melee combat in a pinch. He is also quite acrobatic. He has the dexterity and grace of a thief (though it's not better than the elves'). He is also experienced at pick-pocketing and advanced thievery.

Physical Appearance:

Angel is somewhat short and slim with some sinewy muscle on him. His skin is slightly pale, despite numerous years of traveling under the sun. His short, pointed ears and somewhat slender face clearly mark out his race as a half-elf, and his smile seems so warm and gentle. His long hair reaches down to his ankles and is a pure white. A notable feature about his body (though rarely seen by anybody but himself) are the numerous bright red scars all over it (save for his head). These scars are testaments to an event that changed his life forever (see History, below).

The most distinguishing features about Angel's face are his different-colored eyes; his left eye is a sparkling, golden yellow, and his right eye is a piercing, bright turquoise. When he is content, his eyes seem to flicker with tranquility. When he is curious, they are alight with question. When he is sad and in tears, they seem hauntingly empty. When he is enraged, they take on a burning glare that seems to pierce the soul (metaphorically speaking) and induce fear. On a side note, his father's side of the family had contrasting eyes.

Picture:


Race: Half-elf, half-human

Occupation: Thief

Languages:
Common~The language all humans speak

Elvish~Angel has been taught a complete understanding of Elvish vocabulary

Kingdom/Place of Origin: An island region far west of Erenor and Meigia

Personality: Angel is very kind, witty, and benevolent, but when pursuing a goal, he can be focused and relentless. He hates racism and discrimination of all kinds. He has a tendency to protect whatever friends he has...as well as himself. He follows a code of thievery: plunder the most fortunate to give to those less fortunate so that a balance can be maintained. It seems that every day, Angel gets himself into some sort of trouble, intentionally or accidentally, whether he's stealing or not, and there's a small probability that he can talk his way out of it. He can be shy when talking to a woman, but once overcome of that shyness, he can be very poetic. His ideology of thievery may make him a hypocrite in the eyes of some people, but he doesn't care either way. He is also somewhat naive and scarred from his past. He is determined to find the woman he loves.

Personal History:

When he was an infant, Angel's parents, Jehoud and Mai Macleod were lynched by government officials in a region far west of Eranor and Meigia, for the region placed a law banning the marriage between human and elf. Whoever had half-elven children were to be sentenced to death, and the child was to be sold into slavery, and work without pay until the day he/she dies. This law had been in place ever since an evil half-elven archmage who devastated the region was put to death. Since then, half-elves were considered "dirty-blooded and impure", bound for troubling the entire region. The most "humane" way to deal with this was to segregate the elves from the humans, and put whatever half-elves they could find into slavery.

The fate seemed inevitable to Angel, who, as an infant, was naturally unaware of that fact. However, before he was able to meet that fate, he was whisked away by a member of a clan of half-elven thieves, and was never seen by the officials again.

The clan, called the Phoenix Clan and founded by an experienced thief named Torithius Creed, was a band of half-elven thieves who worked in the shadows of the region. The clan had two goals: give money to the poor in order to create balance, and to prove that half-elves are as equal as everyone else is. The first was quite successful because their code of thievery was quite simple: steal from the more fortunate, give two-thirds of it to the less fortunate, and keep the rest to themselves. The second, though a minimal success, was fruitful; they managed to convince a ninth of the region that half-elves are good people as well.

For the next eighteen years, Angel grew up with the thieves and learned the many methods of their trade. He got to like everyone there, especially Torithius, who was like a father to him.

At the age of twelve, he realized that he could generate light magic with a simple hand motion. But at the time, he could only use it to light up dark places, and the light was erratic, fazing in and out. Over time, however, he learned to control the light to his will to the point where he can create a bright flash for quick getaways.

Around that same year, a half-elf girl by the name of Aerynn Naria was introduced into the clan. Bronze-haired, copper-tan-skinned, green-eyed, and around Angel's age, Aerynn gave Angel trouble from the day they met, and Angel gave trouble back to Aerynn. It was decided by the clan that they be kept separate until further notice.

When they were both thirteen, however, on one of the clan's adventures, Angel and Aerynn were captured by humans and tossed into a slave caravan with other half-elves. The two were horribly frightened, but were sure that they would be rescued by the clan.

On one stop, the humans let out a small half-elf girl, no older than six or seven, out of the cage to do a simple task. The girl couldn't do it; she was too scared to move. Then one of the humans brutally murdered the defenseless girl. Angel and Aerynn were so traumatized by that event that they had begun to lose hope. Then that same human who killed the girl forcefully took Aerynn out. But Angel wouldn't allow it; he temporarily blinded the human with his light and knocked him out cold. Angel and Aerynn attempted to escape, but they were surrounded by at least a dozen humans, all with swords drawn, anger, hatred, and fury in their eyes. Angel and Aerynn thought this was it for them...but the Phoenix Clan jumped out in ambush and, after a brief battle, defeated the human slavers and set all of the imprisoned half-elves free. Then, satisfied with the results, the entire clan headed home.

Since that time, there had been a growing connection between Angel and Aerynn, and they grew more and more friendly towards each other, although there is still the occasional scuffle between the two. Though the two never admitted it until much later, Aerynn was secretly in love with Angel, and Angel was secretly in love with Aerynn.

At fourteen, Angel was told by Torithius of his true parents, the fate that befell them, and the reason why half-elves were so hated in this region. Angel was shocked at that revelation; so shocked that he spent two days thinking things through. After those two days, he vowed to make the region a better place for everyone to live in...a place where half-elves can live freely.

When Angel turned sixteen, on a night lit by the full moon, he confessed his love to Aerynn. And, to his amazement and relief, Aerynn did the same. They kissed for the first time, and a loving bond had been established between the two. On his seventeenth birthday, Angel received a white coat from Aerynn as another sign of love. That night, they vowed to be together forever.

But that was not to be...

When he was eighteen, there came an attack on the clan. Led by Baron Jahan, his men slaughtered everyone in the clan by means of mysterious blades that left numerous scars all over the victim's body. Everyone died...except for Angel, who, miraculously, stood up, despite the numerous wounds all over his body. Rage filled his mind and clouded his reason. The only family he knew...and the only one he loved...had been killed...all because of the damned judgement on half-elves based on the actions of just one of their kind. As the baron and his men were leaving, Angel, for the first time, molded a blade no bigger than a dagger out of light, charged forth, and stabbed the baron in the back, killing him instantly. As the dagger dissapated and as the baron fell, Angel was assaulted again. But before the men could do much more to Angel, he made a flash so bright that the baron's men were permanently blinded. Then, in even more rage, Angel unknowingly fashioned another dagger out of light and proceeded to kill the disabled men.

After the last man was killed, Angel came to his senses. He looked at the dead bodies around him, and, realizing in horror that it was he who killed the baron and his men, cried into unconsciousness.

When he regained consciousness, the first thing Angel felt was pain...physical and emotional. He then looked to see that he was in a hut that belonged to a nameless half-elf hermit, who, apparently, treated Angel's wounds, which still left behind many scars. Angel must have remembered his actions, for he continued to weep...for his "family", the loss of Aerynn, and the horrid actions that he committed. He was now as bad as the humans who treat his kind...and there was no undoing that. Angel believed that even though the actions he had committed avenged his fallen clan members, that perhaps wasn't what the clan wanted. Violence only leads to more violence, and it turns into a vicious, never-ending cycle, thus, peace cannot be achieved. He had betrayed his own vow.

And now that Aerynn was dead, he probably could never love again.

The half-elf hermit told Angel that each member of the clan was given a proper burial. Angel told the hermit to place special flowers on Aerynn's grave. But the hermit said that there was no Aerynn...just the other eleven clan members. Angel was surprised...if her body was not there, then...she wasn't dead after all? The hermit had his doubts, but Angel did not.

After a month's worth of recuperating and thinking, Angel left the hermit's hut with renewed resolve; he vowed to carry on his clan's ideaology, carry the weight of murder on his shoulders, and never kill again. He left on a journey around the known world for two purposes: to find a place where half-elves were treated the same as humans, and, if she's alive, find his lost love, Aerynn Naria.

Currently, Angel has mastered his "light molding" ability and became skilled with a weapon.

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Aerynn Naria (air-rin nah-ree-uh)
Gender: Female
Height: Five feet, seven inches
Hair: Brownish-bronze
Eyes: Emerald
Age: 30 (but to a human, she looks to be about 19)
Build: Very curvy and shapely
Clothing: Aerynn is typically seen wearing a brown leather shirt that exposes her waist, a brown skirt that falls just above her knees (held up at the hips by a black belt), and brown knee-high boots. She also wears a silver choker necklace with an emerald embedded in the center, as well as silver vambraces. She also wears a red headband with a silver five-pointed star etched in the center.

Weapons: She carries a zanbatou (a pole weapon with a blade on one end and a counterweight on the other) with a blade shaped like a lightning bolt style "N", as well as a twenty-foot black whip with a "cat-o-nine-tails" end on her belt.
Armor:None

Magic: Aerynn is a shadowdancer. This means that she is able to teleport to the Plane of Shadow and back at will, provided that she is stepping on a shadow of some kind. She can also jump from one shadow to another, making it seem like she's teleporting. She can also summon shades to perform certain tasks, and dismiss them at any time. She shares a telepathic link with these shades. However, these abilities make her tire easily, for she collapses from exhaustion after shadow jumping about seven or eight times in rapid succession, or if she summons a shade more than eight times, or even a combination of the two. Thus, she uses these abilities sparingly.
Magical Items: None

Skills and Abilities: Aerynn is quite an amazing dancer, thus, she incorporates dancing into her fighting style. Aerynn is quick and nimble, and even quicker and nimbler when shadow dancing and jumping. Her movements are like quicksilver. She is very skilled with a zanbatou, and she uses her whip only as a last resort.

Physical Appearance:

Aerynn is short, slim, and graceful, with all the curves in all the right places. Her build also shows that she has had many years of experience as a dancer. Her skin is a coppery tan color, from numerous years of traveling under the sun. Her short, pointed ears and somewhat slender face clearly mark out her race as a half-elf. Her long, straight hair reaches to her knees, is a brownish-bronze color, and is usually tied at the end by a silver hair band. She has bewitching emerald eyes that portray some kind of innocence. She has a tattoo of an intricate silver moon on her right upper arm.

Picture: Please forgive the lack of attention to proportion. This was back from when I was still trying to perfect the female build and shape (about two years ago).


Race: Half-elf, half-human
Occupation: Thief and Shadowdancer
Languages:
Common~The language all humans speak

Elvish~Aerynn has perfected Elvish vocabulary.

Kingdom/Place of Origin: An island region far west of Erenor and Meigia

Personality:

Aerynn is more or less a tomboy. She is gutsy, adventurous, and stubborn. She hates racism and discrimination of all kinds. She can be flirty when she wants to be (which is not very often). But she can also be very sweet, kind, and good-hearted at times. She is still emotionally scarred from her past. Her eyes show a look of innocence, and thus men are often fooled into her quick hands. She has a very hard determination about her, but she can open her heart when she feels it necessary. She is a bit reckless at times, and she has a knack for getting into trouble.

Personal History:

Born in a region far west of Erenor and Meigia, the first twelve years of Aerynn's life were spent in secrecy. With her family hiding from the government officials who were searching for and enslaving/killing half-elves, she was almost certain that they would never find them. Her father was an experienced illusionist, so he hid his family well. Aerynn lived with the thought that her father would protect the family.

But that thought was shattered when the government officials somehow saw through her father's illusions and found her family. Her father and stepmother were killed, and her baby stepbrother was taken by the officials. She did nothing but stand there in fear, shock, and sorrow, waiting for them to kill her. She then fainted, unaware of the mysterious figure that whisked her away.

When she awoke, she found herself in the hideout of an infamous clan of half-elven thieves called the Phoenix Clan, who stole from the rich and gave to the poor. She then remembered the death of her father and stepmother she witnessed firsthand, for she remained quiet and stoic for five days. On the fifth day, Torithius Creed, the founder of the Phoenix Clan, told her what the clan does: steal from the rich, give to the poor, and try to prove that half-elves were equals as well, in order to avenge those who have fallen. After brief thought, Aerynn decided to join the clan.

She was introduced to the clan the following day. Things did not go well, as she caused all sorts of trouble, especially with one boy in particular, Angel Macleod. The two were always fighting when they were kept together, and the decision was made by the clan to keep them separate.

When they were both thirteen, however, on one of the clan's adventures, Aerynn and Angel were captured by humans and tossed into a slave caravan with other half-elves. The two were horribly frightened, but were sure that they would be rescued by the clan.

On one stop, the humans let out a small half-elf girl, no older than six or seven, out of the cage to do a simple task. The girl couldn't do it; she was too scared to move. Then one of the humans brutally murdered the defenseless girl. Aerynn and Angel were so traumatized by that event that they had begun to lose hope. Then that same human who killed the girl forcefully took Aerynn out. She thought it was the end for her. But Angel wouldn't allow it; he temporarily blinded the human with his light and knocked him out cold. Angel and Aerynn attempted to escape, but they were surrounded by at least a dozen humans, all with swords drawn, anger, hatred, and fury in their eyes. Angel and Aerynn thought this was it for them...but the Phoenix Clan jumped out in ambush and, after a brief battle, defeated the human slavers and set all of the imprisoned half-elves free. Then, satisfied with the results, the entire clan headed home.

Since that time, there had been a growing connection between Aerynn and Angel, and they grew more and more friendly towards each other, although there is still the occasional scuffle between the two. Though the two never admitted it until much later, Aerynn was secretly in love with Angel, and Angel was secretly in love with Aerynn.

When they were both sixteen, on a moonlit night Angel confessed his love to Aerynn. Aerynn found this as sudden and unexpected...but she loved him right back. The two kissed each other, and a bond of love had been made. They were inseparable after that. Why, for Angel's seventeenth birthday, Aerynn made a white coat for him as a sign of love. The two vowed to be together forever.

But that was not to be...

When she was eighteen, there came an attack on the clan. Led by Baron Jahan, his men slaughtered everyone in the clan by means of mysterious blades that left numerous scars all over the victim's body. Aerynn was no exception; she was knocked unconscious by the blunt end of one of these blades. Everything went black as her clan members died.

When she awoke, she found everyone dead...including the baron and his men. She found Angel, who was also supposedly dead. She spent the night crying in his limp arms. She had lost the one she had loved and ever will love. Something told her that he defended her, and gave up his life in doing so. But he was dead...and that was enough to break her.

She then could do nothing else but run away. She ran away, cursing the humans who took her love's life. Little did she know that he was still alive...

She left the region, travelling to Amalterre in hopes of forgetting the past. Eventually, while she was travelling across the desert with no water left, she almost died of thirst until an all-female troupe of shadowdancers called the Starshadows pitied her and offered her water and shelter. At first, Aerynn didn't want to, because the troupe was composed of humans, and humans had killed her clan and her love, Angel. Yet the troupe's leader, Caoilynn, explained that in almost all of Le'raana, everyone was treated as equals...even the half-elves. That statement was more than enough to convince Aerynn, and she accepted the water and shelter, and eventually decided to become a member.

She trained in the ways of the shadowdancer for twelve years thereafter, and became skilled in their ways, travelling over the continent. By day, they were travelling performers of dance, but by night, they were righters of wrongdoings. Only three months previous, the troupe met in Nerandor for a meeting. Caoilynn ordered that the troupe be separated for one year for individual reasons. Aerynn's instruction was "to find something she had lost long ago." Clueless as to what she should be searching for, Aerynn began travelling the continent.

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Aine (ai-nay)
Gender: Female
Height: Four feet, one inch
Hair: White
Eyes: Green
Age: 52 (but she looks to be about twenty)
Build: Short, very curvy and wide-hipped
Clothing: In terms of clothing, she wears a short-sleeved silky indigo tank-top that exposes all of her stomach, a matching skirt speckled with flecks of green and blue, and a silver medallion no bigger than a quarter depicting an abstract image of a cloud. She has three small silver hoop earrings on each of her ears. She also wears a yellow straw hat on occasion.

Weapons: None
Armor: None

Magic: Aine has inherited some abilities from the sky faeries from the other half of her family. One of those abilities includes cloud-walking; literally walking on clouds as if they were solid ground. She can also emanate an aura that can enable one other person to cloud-walk. Another ability is flying at will without any other means of doing so. She also has the power of weather control, but only to the extent of making a light rainfall and a sunny day.
Magical Items: None

Skills and Abilities: In combat, she is by no means a master, but she is fully capable of defending herself with quick punches and kicks. Thanks to her small size and light weight, she is very agile and acrobatic.

Physical Appearance:

At first glance, Aine looks like a child thanks to how short she is. But her voluptuous curves and medium-sized breasts clearly say that she is an adult. Her skin is a cobalt blue and is soft to the touch. There are tribal markings that can be found on her forearms, shins, calves, stomach, and cheeks, and they are robin's egg blue. Her hair is snow white, reaches her ankles, and is tied into a thick braid that separates into three braids about halfway down, with most of the hair on the front and sides kept free. Her eyes are a bright jade green and almond-shaped. Her ears are pointed like an elf's, about five inches long each, and stick out almost sideways.

Picture:


Race: Half-sky faerie, half-human

Occupation: Shop owner

Languages:

Common~The language all humans speak

Sylvan~The language of all forest creatures, such as nymphs, dryads, and fae.

Elvish~Aine has a somewhat good understanding of Elvish vocabulary

Kingdom/Place of Origin: Rith

Personality:

Aine is normally a very cheerful and carefree person, always wanting to make friends with another friendly person. Deep down, however, she longs for companionship with a significant other, one who would accept her for what she is, despite her past. She also has a loathing for those bookworm wizards, especially the one that "made" her.

Personal History:

From what Aine was told by her "captor", she was originally part of a wizard's experiment which involved the potency of humans interbreeding with other species. Some have turned disastrous, while others (like herself) had turned out quite well. Her mother was killed after Aine was "born" to keep her quiet about the experiment.

The next thirteen years for Aine were horrible. The wizard's underlings performed inhumane experiments on her to study half-breed capabilities. When she resisted, she was tortured. She wasn't fed properly, except by one assistant in particular, who treated her like a normal person. He was really a double-agent, helping other experiments escape and acting as if nothing had happened. With Aine, it was no different. When the time was right, she was whisked away by him, and then taken to a village on the northern tip of Nerandor. She was told that she would live a better life here, for everything in this village was peaceful and simple. He then told her to hide, and hide she did, atop the clouds. It was good that she followed the command, for shortly after the assistant left, he was killed by the wizard for treason.

Since she was taught about the sky faeries' traditions by the assistant, Aine decided to follow those traditions and mingle them with human behaviors. She tattooed herself with tribal paint and honed her abilities. At the same time, she became friendlier with the villagers as they gradually accepted her.

One day, the villagers told her that one of the original founders of the village was an expert on herbology. Along with the Material Plane's herbs and spices, he traveled across the planes to study alien herbs and their uses. He had experimented with all of them, and he found many new uses for these herbs, one of which was making exotic teas. He was well-renowned for these teas specifically. He was very old when he helped found the village, so he decided to retire there, since he saw the evils of technology. He placed an ancient spell on his entire collection of hundreds of herbs and spices that would preserve them forever until they were used, and he then put those herbs in a large box and buried it in the very ground on which this shop stands. He then spent the rest of his life in peace.

Near adulthood, she found the box of herbs and spices and decided to make a tea shop and cottage for her to run. However, she had spent a great deal of her time living alone since childhood, and these days, she longed for companionship. So now she hopes to find a significant other.

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Lynn Huyana (lin hoo-yah-nuh)
Gender: Female
Height: Nine feet, six inches from head to tail fin; five feet, eight inches when in land form.
Hair: Blue
Eyes: Aquamarine
Age: 145 (she appears to be 19)
Build: Sleek yet curvy
Clothing: In terms of clothing...well, she doesn't wear any. When on land, however, (see Abilities, below) she wears a skirt made of woven sea grass, but keeps her top half adorned with only part of her hair tied in front of her.

Weapons: Her arm fins could be described as natural weapons.
Armor: None

Magic: She can use her magic to enable surface-dwellers to breathe and communicate underwater for up to a day. She can also throw orbs of extremely compressed water at her foes, but only if she is in some sort of contact with water.
Magical Items: None

Skills and Abilities: Like all other merfolk, Lynn is a natural swimmer and can jet at a maximum speed of 80 knots. She uses her gills to breathe underwater and switches to her lungs when on the surface. When engaged in battle, she can sharpen her arm fins at will and use them like blades. She can communicate freely underwater, and she can talk to fish.

But one remarkable ability that she doesn't share with the rest of her kin is the ability to go up onto dry land and enable her fish tail to split and transform into human-sized legs proportionate to the rest of her body, albeit the facts that they remain the same tail color and that her otherwise human toes are webbed. With this ability, it enables her to survive on dry land for about a couple of weeks. But she still requires a lot of water to survive, so she tends to stay near the shorelines.

Physical Appearance: Lynn's top half is basically human. She has a pale skin tone and a very curvacious shape; her waist perfectly hourglass-shaped, her hips round and shapely, and her breasts full and medium-sized. Her hair reaches to where would be her ankles and is a perfect blue, and her eyes are a bright aquamarine.

There are two factors that betray her top half as merfolk, though. The first is the fact that there are three thin, parallel slits on either side of her neck that serve as her gills. The other more noticeable fact is that from each of her forearms protrudes a large, curved, almost bladelike fin about a meter in length each. These fins fade from the skin tone at the base to a light blue at the tip.

Her fishlike tail begins about a third of the way down her thighs (she still retains the female human reproductive organs) and extends about five feet before ending in a wide pair of pectoral fins. The tail itself is various shades of blue with a silvery glaze that makes them reflect in sunlight.

Picture: Coming soon!

Race: Merfolk
Occupation: Free spirit
Languages:
Common~ The language all humans speak

Aquan~ All intelligent water-dwellers speak this language.

Kingdom/Place of Origin: The ocean near the shores of Nerandor

Personality: Lynn is a very playful spirit in nature; so playful that she might drag someone underwater. She enjoys darting through the water at very high speeds, and she loves talking to the underwater life. In fact, she'll talk to anyone, even the surface-dwelling races, so long as they are nice enough. But she still experiences all the other emotions any human would feel, so it's not unlike her to feel anger, sorrow, and sympathy every once in a good while. But she's happy and carefree most of the time.

Personal History:

Lynn's father had died from illness when she was still a newborn, so her mother was the only person who took care of her, as well as her four sisters and eight brothers. Life in the sea was relatively peaceful, and with Lynn being the youngest out of all her siblings, she wound up learning a lot of things from her elders.

When her mother died when she was still a child, she and her five other young siblings (seven of her brothers had already found mates) were taken in by her mother's father, Glyndwr. But he was a brute of a merman, and he was especially hostile to Lynn for some reason known only to him. He would beat her and ignore her very often. This led to Lynn running away.

Lynn had always wondered if the surface was as pleasant a place as the sea had been. So one day, she journeyed up near the ocean's shoreline and surfaced. She saw how beautiful the shores were, and she longed to venture on them, even if it was just for a brief time. She then started to feel an odd sensation as she moved closer to the shore. It was as if her tail was shrinking and splitting into two, changing. When she touched the shoreline, her fish tail had become a pair of human legs.

Lynn was astonished by this. She tried walking, but stumbled on her first attempts. Her new knees were shaking, trying hard to bear her upper half's weight. The feeling of the ground beneath her new feet was so alien to her. But she didn't give up. After putting one foot in front of the other a number of times, she had taken her first true steps on dry land.

She was so caught up in spending hours learning how to walk and run that she had forgotten that she still needed water to survive. Her throat had begun to dry out, and the next thing she knew, she had her head in the water, gulping it down. She then dived in, and immediately noticed her legs merging and metamorphosing back into her tail. Confused, she then tried going back up to shore, and sure enough, her tail turned back into legs.

She then made the decision to abandon her brutish grandfather and learn as much about the surface world as she could. But what of her siblings? Well, they deserved to know as well.

After showing her newfound ability to her sisters and brother (in which they comment her as lucky), they agreed to run away from their grandfather for good. So they headed far south from their home waters into more tropical climate.

For the next couple of decades, Lynn had observed other humanoid surface dwellers and how they use their legs. And Lynn learned how to skip, hop, jump, dance, kick...pretty much anything one can do with legs. She even made small talk with a lot of surface-dwelling humanoids. Many of them were nice, while some others were hostile. She learned their ways and even dared to venture a little bit further inland, but always with a supply of water on hand.

This continues up to today.

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Zoe Kaelee Lawrencia (zoh-ee kay-lee law-ren-see-yah)
Gender: Female
Height: Five feet, four inches
Hair: Normally brown, dyed purple
Eyes: Brownish red
Age: 18
Build: Short and wide-hipped
Clothing: In her world, she used to wear bell-bottom jeans, form-fitting shirts, and sandals. Now she's looking for clothing that blends in with this world.

Weapons: None
Armor: None

Magic: Due to a drastic accident that occurred only a year ago, both of her arms are now pure magic in a concentrated, physical form. Each arm can stretch like rubber up to 100 meters and can mold and contort into a variety of shapes, from weapons like blades and clubs, to tools like screwdrivers and nets. To do that, she has to clear her mind and think of a form she wants her arms to take. Yet she can only maintain those shapes for about three minutes before they start to pain her body, so she has to revert back to her regular arms to prevent this, and afterward, she must wait another five minutes for her arms to change shape again. Her arms have no bones, muscles, nerves, veins, ligaments, or tendons, and if an arm gets cut off, a new one immediately grows in its place. The magic in the arms seems to be light-based. Other than that, they function just like regular human arms and hands.

Magical Items: None

Skills and Abilities: Guitar-playing, singing, music dissection, cooking

Physical Appearance:

Zoe is short of stature with a wide-hipped figure and not-too-small bust size. Her skin is a creamy peach color with a slight tan to it. Her arms and hands are discolored from the rest of her body, for they have a more golden hue to them. The tips of her fingers on her left hand are still calloused from many years of playing guitar. Her face is round and her lips are not too full, nor too thin. Her normally-brown hair has been dyed a deep violet, and is worn long with a single large bang in front of her forehead. Her eyes are an unusual ruby red color, but this color is natural to her.

Picture: Coming Soon!

Race: Human
Occupation: None
Languages:
English (also known as Common)~the language all humans of this world speak

Greek~Another language of her world

Kingdom/Place of Origin: Athens, Greece

Personality:

Zoe is a very driven, very independent individual. She can be a bit self-conscious and shy when it comes to her abilities, but, given time, she can open up to anyone. She isn't any of those other stereotypes found in other girls (like the "LIKE, OH MAH GAWD" kind of girls or the preppy teen girls). Her personality blends the goth, music geek, and tomboy stereotypes into one unique demeanor. She can be very distant at times. When the topic of music is mentioned, she never fails to join in. Most of the time, she is very gutsy, adventurous, and stubborn as hell. So in short, she's pretty much a wild card.

Personal History:

Zoe was born in Athens, Greece, to a wealthy couple in a not-so-pleasant part of the city. When Zoe was three, the couple decided to move to America and start a new life and new business there. So Zoe grew up in a town called Portland, located in Maine.

Her father worked for the State of Maine as an officer of foreign affairs, often working eighteen-hour shifts at a time. Her mother stayed at home and managed a Greek-based bakery that was built on the first floor. Together, both parents made a very significant income, and they made Zoe’s life comfortable.

Growing up, Zoe learned to speak fluent Greek as well as fluent English. School was very normal for her, as was her daily life. At seven years old, she decided that she wanted to play guitar, so she wound up taking lessons from a very well-known guitar player who happened to live in the area. A little while after that, her parents encouraged her to sing as well, so she took voice lessons from her mother, who used to sing in a Greek choir before moving to America.

Over the years, Zoe expanded her repertoire in music, and once high school came around, she decided to pursue music as a career. She loved playing the guitar and singing, and she became involved in a lot of bands and music projects, as well as the school’s choir. She played everything from classical to heavy metal, and she sang her heart out so many times. Zoe had no doubt that her future would be bright and encouraging.

But then, on a cold afternoon, Zoe experienced a horrible accident that changed her life forever.

When she was seventeen, Zoe was walking home from school on a very icy December afternoon. The roads were covered in black ice, leaving moving cars vulnerable to sliding out of control. As she was walking, a car was barreling down the road, out of control and heading straight for her. Zoe tried to get out of the way, but she slipped on ice and fell face down, arms spread out. The car--a small sub-compact--ran over her in a storm of ice shards. What made the accident worse was that the car had chains on its tires to add traction, so all four chain-wrapped tires ran over her arms, effectively destroying them.

She awoke in a hospital, yet felt extensive pain in her arms...or so she thought the pain was in her arms. Her mother and father were in tears when the doctor told Zoe the terrible truth; her arms were too severely damaged and infected in the accident to be repaired, so they had to be amputated at the shoulders. All of a sudden, Zoe’s world as she knew it was shattered. She could no longer play her guitar, the only thing in the world that brought her true happiness. Her dreams were destroyed along with her passions. She cried uncontrollably, yet had no arms to bury her head in.

The days that followed were the worst of Zoe’s life. She refused to eat, refused to talk, and refused to listen. She just sat in her bed, wallowing in her grief that knew no bounds. The phantom pains continued to plague her. Her friends couldn’t comfort her. She thought of killing herself so many times, yet couldn’t bring herself to do it. It seemed she would live the rest of her life without picking up a guitar ever again.

A week after the accident, however, something unusual and unexpected happened. As her parents were trying in vain to comfort Zoe, their next-door neighbor, an elderly woman who claimed to be of Native American descent, came in to offer her grievances to the three of them. She then said that she could help Zoe regain her arms again. Without awaiting a response, the elderly woman began chanting quietly in a strange language that seemed to be Native American. The room filled with a luminescent light as the woman continued chanting.

When the light faded and the chanting stopped, Zoe was left staring at her arms and hands, once again connected to her shoulders. They moved on her command. They were slightly discolored with the rest of her body, but were arms and hands nonetheless. And they still had the callouses on the fingers of her left hand from all of those years play guitar.

She was overcome with joy, as were her parents. Zoe hugged her parents with her new arms. They were embraced for a very long time. But when they turned to thank the elderly lady, she was already gone.

The doctors found this astonishing. Against Zoe and her parents’ wills, the doctors studied Zoe’s arms, being the paranoid doctors they were. They were baffled at what tests displayed; there were no bones, no muscles, no nerves, no veins, and no tendons present in her arms. Every theory and law known to medical and physical science told them that these arms shouldn’t move and shouldn’t even exist, yet somehow, they do, much like regular human arms.

Before the doctors could do more tests and make Zoe their guinea pig, Zoe’s parents ushered her out of the hospital.

After that harrowing experience, life was pretty much back to normal for Zoe...or so she thought.

A month after the accident, Zoe was walking home from school with her boyfriend on another icy day, when all of a sudden, another car came screaming down the road, out of control. This time, however, it was a group of bandits behind the wheel, and this time, the car managed to stop. Armed with knives and cleavers, the bandits jumped out and attacked the two of them. The image of the cleaver flashed in Zoe’s mind...

...and suddenly, her right arm changed into the shape of a cleaver and impaled one of the bandits on the shoulder. Shocked, Zoe, withdrew the...whatever it was...and it changed back into an arm.

The bandits saw this, and, thinking that Zoe was a freak, jumped back into their car and ran for it. Zoe’s boyfriend saw this as well, and he ran as well. Zoe reached out to stop him, and suddenly, her arm stretched, and it kept stretching until it grabbed him. Even more terrified, her boyfriend ripped the hand off and he kept running. Zoe’s arm retracted back to its original length.

How in the world did she do that?

She spent the next several months experimenting with her own arms and saw what they could do. They could stretch up to 100 meters, and could morph into various shapes, but she could only shape them for so long.

But that didn’t help her for what happened after she displayed her newfound powers. Her old friends wouldn’t talk to her, and she was constantly being called a freak behind her back. Even her parents seemed distant.

Seven months after the accident, Zoe got fed up. After school one day, she went next door with acoustic guitar in hand to see the elderly Native American, only to find out that the woman was gone and left the house for sale. There was a note with Zoe’s name on it on the doorstep. She picked it up and read that the old lady was watching her from afar and was truly sorry about the consequences of her actions. The note ended that Zoe must leave and get to a safe haven as soon as possible, for her parents were planning to send her to the federal government for her own safety.

Confused, Zoe decided to investigate the abandoned house, which was stripped bare of all furniture and decoration. The second level was the same way, but when she ventured into the basement, she discovered only one item of interest: a dreamcatcher, unlike anything she had ever seen. She touched the intricate web within the gnarled branch circle, and all of a sudden, the web began to shine and the dust in the basement was pulled in to the dreamcatcher, which expanded into a shining blue rift in time and space. The pull of the rift sucked Zoe in, guitar and all, and then promptly closed behind her.

By the time her parents found out she was gone, the dreamcatcher was already exhausted of its magic.

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Jonah Azrael (joh-nuh aez-ray-el)
Gender: Male
Height: Six feet, three inches
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Very dark brown, almost black
Age: Almost 2000 (but he stopped aging at 23)
Build: Muscular
Clothing: Jonah is often seen wearing a large, brown, sleeveless coat that exposes his muscular chest and arms, fingerless gloves, black pants, and black steel-heel boots. These clothes are good enough for him and are not meant to be showy, but efficient.

Weapons: Harbinger--A massive scythe handed down from generation to generation, each time being refined and sometimes even reforged. It consists of a six-foot long pole made of iron and petrified oak. It is thicker and heavier at one end to allow for even balance, and there are slight waves in its length to allow for easy gripping and better maneuverability. The curved blade is three feet in length and has been stained with the blood with countless victims. There is also a half-foot-long pike jutting out from where the blade meets the pole. There is nothing else remarkable or flashy about this scythe; as long as it kills efficiently, Jonah’s okay with it.

Ironheart--After countless attempts and failures, Jonah has forged a blade perfect for his use. The blade is five feet long, is not too thick, nor too thin, and is made out of deep iron ore forged and cut by his flames. The blade has a slight curve near its tip. It, too, has been bloodstained. The chappe is large and circular, and is set with an onyx gem in either side. The foot-long grip is wrapped in black leather and the pommel is also set with an onyx gem. There is nothing else remarkable or flashy about this greatsword; as long as it’s an efficient killing blade, Jonah has no complaints.

Armor: None

Magic: Fire and heat are his most proficient fields of magic. He most commonly uses these pyrokinetic abilities to make fiery geysers shoot up from the ground, superheat the air around him, and even cause explosions. He can utilize his flames to do other attacks as well. He is also capable of performing dark magic, but he only uses it in the most dire of situations, since even after all these years he still doesn’t know the true extent of his dark abilities.
Magical Items: None

Skills and Abilities: Since Jonah has had a lot of time to hone his fire-oriented magic, he has become invulnerable to fire and heat. He also has had time to increase his strength and stamina at the expense of some of his speed.

Physical Appearance:

These past long years have strengthened Jonah, yet at the same time they have ravaged him. Thick arms hang off of bulky shoulders that connect to a broad chest and muscular stomach, while sinewy legs support his weight. His skin is a pale color, despite numerous years of travel under the sun. His hair is brown, messy, and barely reaches his shoulders, and he sports a thick goatee. His eyes are a very dark brown, almost black, and sometimes they seem like bottomless holes. As a characteristic of one of the Oathsworn, his eyes are sometimes consumed in pitch blackness. Most of the time, his facial expression remains the same mask; cold, hard, and stern. He has pitch black scars on his muscular chest, abdomen, arms, legs and back, the most notable of which are five thick scars right across his heart area.

Picture: Coming soon!

Race: Tiefling (a human with demon blood)
Occupation: Rogue Mercenary and occasional assassin
Languages:
Common~ The language all humans speak

Infernal~ Since Jonah shares a demonic heritage, he has a complete understanding of this language.

Abyssal~ The same applies for this language.

Kingdom/Place of Origin: Unknown

Personality:

Jonah cares for no one but himself...and whoever or whatever he is assigned to protect, and whoever's in trouble. If paid the proper price, he'll protect anyone. He also has a slight lust for power, but he isn't mucho-power-hungry. He finds it hard to trust anyone, and he'll seldom give people a chance to prove themselves. He always enjoys fighting (to the point of insanity on rare occasions).

He holds a very strong connection to Death (both the natural occurrence and the entity) so he only holds respect to the Angel of Death; all other gods, religions, and their followers are blind, zealous, and hypocritical fools in his eyes. Due to this strong connection to Death, he also holds a hatred to those who would dare to defy Him their souls, which includes necromancers, vampires, liches, and other undead.

When not assigned a specific task, he usually wanders around, sometimes attacking without provocation. When it comes to killing, Jonah is no discriminator. If a civilian gets in the way of a criminal, he cuts them down, regardless of age or gender. If he is locked in a battle, he will kill those who are unfortunate enough to get in his way. If a fiend possesses a child, he will kill the child. He knows no remorse, mercy, or honor; in his eyes, words like those are sentimental tripe.

He has lived a very long time. He has seen empires rise and fall. He has seen people come and go. As a result, his view on life is rather cruel but very true. The reason people are born is to die. Death is something that nobody likes, but everyone has to face someday. People just cover up that fact with pointless frivolities and meaningless tripe. Even though he deems his job as a mercenary as meaningless, he needs something to get by in this cruel world called life. Death is all there is, and even though he was rendered immortal, he knows that he will die at some point, like all the rest, and he will welcome it with open arms.

In short, Jonah is a sadistic, cruel, and cynical bastard. Some might call Jonah a twisted man. Jonah would respond that all people of this realm of the living are just as twisted as he is. He is not hesitant to admit that he is insane.

Personal History:

The first twenty years of Jonah's life are a mystery, but he was born into a family stripped of its prominence centuries ago.

When Jonah married to a woman named Lina, the two swore an Oath with the Angel of Death: whoever dies first, the surviving spouse would be rendered immortal, only to die if the head is severed from the body. This death happened all too soon; one night, three years later, the two were ambushed by a gang of muscle-heads. Jonah was knocked unconscious, and Lina was raped and murdered. Jonah regained consciousness a while after the gang left, and, after seeing his wife dead, his rage enabled his demon blood to consume him completely, and as he became his darker side, the Oath took hold, infusing a mere sliver of the Angel of Death's essence with his soul. He left nothing but destruction in his wake, for he killed not only his wife's killers, but everyone else who lived where he lived.

After he regained his senses, Jonah felt regret for those innocent lives he unwillingly took. He vowed never to let his dark side take over again. He would become stronger. He would only take the lives of criminals, murderers, and wrongdoers, and that he did.

At least, that’s what he thought he did.

Countless years passed, and Jonah began to see the true importance of death as a natural occurrence in life, and that good and evil were nonexistent, and that gods and religions were all lies. He realized that the Oath he swore was a way for him to see the truth; there was only death. Everything else was meaningless. And thus he slowly deteriorated into insanity while at the same time becoming one of the most ruthless mercenaries alive.

The Oathsworn:

It has been thousands of years since anyone has known of the Oathsworn, and what is known today is merely speculation. Even Jonah himself knows very little about what the Oathsworn, but what he was told was this; there was once a cult of demons who worshipped Death as a god. Death, however, refused to acknowledge them, for He was too busy with His eternal duty of severing the souls from the bodies of the living and ferrying them to purgatory. Yet still the demon cult persisted in worshipping Him. Finally, Death grew weary of their tireless zeal, yet at the same time respected their determination. So he left the demons this edict:

“Hear me, O pathetic souls of the living world. You may worship me and swear Oaths to me, but be warned that if you dare to, my shards shall be embedded in your necks, and I cannot ferry your souls to whatever place you call afterlife unless those shards break.”

And from then on, whoever swore Oaths with Death for whatever reasons were cursed to live forever, only to die if the head is severed from the body right at the bone beneath the cranium. Some see it as a blessing, others a curse.

Notes: This profile is bound to be developed as I RP him.

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Geralt
Gender: Male
Height: Three feet, five inches
Hair: Dark brown
Eyes: Silver
Age: 256 (looks to be 35)
Build: Well-defined
Clothing: Geralt keeps his clothing practical for his job. He is usually seen garbed in a grey shirt under a thick blue vest, brown pants, brown adventuring boots, and a red sash. He also wears thick goggles.

Weapons: A mere boot knife, used for cooking rather than fighting, but can be used for self-defense in a pinch.
Armor: None

Magic: One out of ten thousand Melogi are gifted with the power to shape their bodies into any kind of object they so desire, provided of course that they retain less than or equal to their total mass. Geralt is one of those few with this ability, but he doesn't use it that much.
Magical Items: None

Skills and Abilities: Like all Melogi, Geralt can harden his body when he feels threatened. He is also good at alchemy and storytelling.

Physical Appearance:

Geralt, like organic halflings, is very short of stature and quite slim, but he makes up for this with slender muscle tone. His metallic skin is a yellowish-gold color. His face is narrow and his ears are short and come to a round point. His coppery brown hair is set into thick dreadlocks and tied into a high ponytail. His eyes are a silvery grey and full of wisdom.

Race: Brass halfling-class melogi
Occupation: Ex-Caretaker, now a shop owner, alchemist, and father
Languages:

~Common: The language all humans speak

Kingdom/Place of Origin: Rith

Personality:

Geralt is a curious and inquisitive fellow, always wanting to try new things and experiment. He is rather eccentric in the eyes of most who meet him, but given time, he is capable of being a steadfast companion. If any of the experiments he conducts is important and intriguing (which they oftentimes are), he puts his work before his family. But when he's not occupied, he is a very caring father and husband.

/\/\/\/\

Name: Marrissa, aka “Marble”
Gender: Female
Height: Five feet, three inches
Hair: Golden
Eyes: Silver
Age: 224 (looks to be 30)
Build: Well-cared for and slightly curvy
Clothing: Marble likes to keep her clothing simple. She is usually seen wearing a simple red dress free of anything fancy and fashionable along with brown boots.

Weapons: A finely crafted short sword and a metal staff.
Armor: None

Magic: None
Magical Items: None

Skills and Abilities: Able to hold her own in close-range combat, but she is by no means a master.

Physical Appearance:

Marble is on the short side of the human spectrum, but she makes up for it in surreal attractiveness. Unlike other silver-class melogi, her metallic skin is a marbled effect of light and dark silver tones, hence her nickname “Marble”. Her left leg had recently been cut off below the knee, and the reforged replacement is a silver “double-helix” of the same shape. Her brassy golden hair is fine, goes just past the shoulders, and is usually kept in a single large braid. Her eyes are a cloudy silver color

Race: Silver human-class melogi
Occupation: Mother and shop owner
Languages:

~Common: The language all humans speak

Kingdom/Place of Origin: Rith

Personality:

Marble is a loving and caring mother-type person. She always enjoys helping out her customers and anyone else in need in whatever meager way she can. However, she is also a bit overprotective of her family; if her family is threatened, she will put her life on the line to defend them, even though she is still recovering from her injury.

/\/\/\/\

Name: Lucanto
Gender: Male
Height: Four feet, three inches
Hair: Pale yellow
Eyes: Silvery
Age: 8
Build: Youthful and slim
Clothing: Lucanto typically wears a green shirt, brown breeches, and brown boots

Weapons: None
Armor: None

Magic: None
Magical Items: None

Skills and Abilities: He’s a great listener, runner, and helper.

Physical Appearance: Lucanto is short and willowy, like any other child. His metal skin is a dark, coppery luster. His head is narrow and his long and pointed, but point out upward and against his head. His long, pale golden hair is rather unkempt, despite his mother’s best efforts to tame it, and his eyes are grey.

Race: Copper elf-class melogi
Occupation: none
Languages:

~Common: The language all humans speak.

Kingdom/Place of Origin: Rith

Personality:

It is hard to define Lucanto’s definite personality since he is only eight years old, but he is either asking questions, learning to play his flute, or helping his mother around the house and shop, to be basic.

/\/\/\/\

Personal History: (to be updated as I RP this family)

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Tamra
Gender: Female
Height: Five feet, five inches
Hair: Light brown
Eyes: Dark brown
Age: 19
Build: You could say she's built like an athlete.
Clothing: With her current lifestyle, Tamra likes to keep her clothing simple and practical. This generally includes a tight shirt of some sort and tight pants or shorts. Other than that, she wears little else. Boots or sandals of any kind are uncomfortable on her feet.

Weapons: None
Armor: None

Magic: Tamra can shapeshift into a capuchin monkey at will. This is the only form she can take, apart from her anthro form, and for some reason, she cannot change back to her full human form.

Magical Items: A pendant in the shape of a teardrop about the size of one's palm, made of petrified white ash and engraved with odd, indecipherable runes. This charm that she wears around her neck protects her from all minor and moderate magic, so she cannot be harmed nor helped magically. Major magic will still affect her, but the barrier will grow stronger the more magic she is exposed to. If the pendant is removed physically, she will be vulnerable.

Skills and Abilities: Tamra was taught how to move with swiftness and precision, and although she knows how to do it in mind, her monkey-anthro form still makes her a bit clumsy. Thanks to the opposable thumbs on her feet, she can grasp objects with her feet as she could with her hands. The same goes with her tail, which can wrap itself around objects and lift them up. Each of them can support her own weight for about thirty minutes before tiring out. Tamra also has a basic understanding of how to defend herself and fight, and her fists, feet, and tail help her do just that. She is training herself, however, so her fighting style isn't perfect; there will be times when she will stumble.

Physical Appearance:

Tamra stands at about five and a half feet tall and is built very much like a professional acrobat while still retaining her hourglass shape and not-too-small, nor-too-big breasts. Her form is covered in short brownish-black fur on her arms, sides, back, and legs (leaving her hands and feet bare) and white fur on her stomach, chest, and shoulders (leaving her head bare). Her feet are like hands as well, complete with opposable thumbs. The brownish-black tail that sprouts from her tailbone is very long, reaching a length of nearly six feet, and is usually carried with a curl. Her brown hair is cropped short, barely reaching the nape of her neck, and her large eyes are a hazelnut brown. Her ears are also very slightly bigger than a normal human's ears. In her animal form, she resembles a capuchin monkey with blackish fur on the body, arms, legs, and tail, and white fur on her face, throat, and chest, and a black cap on the top of her head. The only distinguishing feature about her monkey form are her eyes; they remain the same color as in her anthro form.

Race: Once human, now human/monkey anthro
Occupation: Wanderer
Languages:

~Common: The language all humans speak

Kingdom/Place of Origin: Amalterre

Personality:

Tamra is, by nature, a very sweet and caring girl. She likes to talk, and isn't timid to speak what's on her mind. She'll do everything in her meager power to help anyone in need. She can come off as stubborn and a bit naive at times, because when she does put her mind on a specific task, she can be focused and relentless. But she isn't without her personal weaknesses; she can't stand meanies and self-centered jerks, and she's a little self-conscious when it comes to her current physical state. She also isn't without her quirks; she likes to hang upside-down a lot, and she loves to cook whenever she can get the chance and the proper ingredients.

Personal History:

Tamra was born in a small kingdom where challenges of strength, dexterity, fortitude, and will were commonplace in the arena that stood in the center of the town square. Her father died when she was still an infant, so she was raised by her mother, who was once an avid champion in the dexterity area of the yearly competitions in the arena. Growing up, Tamra would listen in fascination to her mother's stories of her past championships in acrobatics and speed. At the very tender age of five, she was already tumbling around here and there, always breaking something in the process. Her mother found this very amusing, yet at the same time sensed the determination within her. Her mother agreed to teach her what she knew in the world of acrobatics, dexterity, and self-defense.

By the time she turned fifteen, Tamra had already become an accomplished acrobat, contending in amateur contests that the village held every so often. She rose out on top each time, always modest and thanking her mother for training her. However, she was still too young to contend in the arena competition; she'd have to wait another three or four years to compete. So she took a break from the intensive training and focused more on cooking, another favorite thing of hers to do to pass the time. But one day each week was spent to keep her acrobatic skills from getting rusty.

When her eighteenth birthday rolled around, she was finally old enough to compete in the arena. She entered the dexterity part of the challenges and was met with some very tough competitors, but she manage to slip by each one until she mad it to the final round, where she face off with the champion of the past twenty years, a female grey elf, aloof and arrogant. After much acrobatic battling, Tamra and the grey elf were pretty evenly matched, but Tamra never stopped believing in herself and her mother's training. She then won over the grey elf, but unlike the grey elf, Tamra was modest and thanked her mother, who was watching in the crowds.

Being the respectable competitor that she was, Tamra held a hand out to the tired grey elf and thanked her for a good competition. But the grey elf, her pride destroyed, uttered a strange incantation and threw a blast of green flame at Tamra. Tamra was caught in the blast, and she just sat there, paralyzed in fear. Then, pain began to radiate through her body as she went through a startling transformation that slowly changed her from a human girl to a capuchin monkey. Her mother was distraught and helpless as she watched her girl change before her eyes. The crowd stared for a moment, then proceeded to start booing the grey elf as arena officials outnumbered her and took her to the dungeons while she was screaming that she didn't deserve to lose. Upon realizing what had just happened, Tamra passed out.

Tamra's mother stared at the unconscious monkey form of Tamra, weeping and angry at the grey elf for being such a sore loser. Unsure of what else to do, she scooped the little monkey up in her arms and took her to the village shaman. Upon hearing of the mother's plight, the shaman inspected the monkey and said that this was a powerful curse upon the girl, mainly used by evil druids to drive trespassers out of their groves. He also added that he had been under that same curse, but has been treated by a now-deceased witch-doctor who was the only one who knew how to lighten the curse. He finished that he would attempt to ease the curse off of her so at least her humanity would be restored. He then surrounded Tamra with a light green aura, and slowly but surely, Tamra was starting to change back. But then her change stopped at a mostly human form that retained some capuchin traits, such as the fur, the feet with opposable thumbs, the very long tail, and the slightly bigger ears. It seemed that the curse may never be completely removed.

Tamra awoke in her new form and was told the horrible truth of what happened to her. She looked about herself and at herself in a mirror. Her face was the same, but her body had changed. She was filled with conflicting emotions. Was this change good or bad? Well, it seemed bad at first, since she was now an unnatural being and probably couldn't compete in the arena anymore, but maybe it seemed good in a way. Whatever that way was, she was determined to find out. She declared to her mother that she would go on a journey around the known world to get herself used to this new body and find a way for her to revert back to her human form. Her mother understood, and they hugged.

Before Tamra set out, the shaman told her that she was now able to revert to a full monkey form anytime she so wills it. He also gave her a protective charm in the form of a white-ash pendant with runes engraved in it, saying that it'll protect her from magic as long as she wears it. She accepted it and, after giving her thanks to her mother and the shaman, set off to see the world.

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Piran
Gender: Male
Height: In his regular form, he is five feet, three inches
Hair: Black
Eyes: Red flecked with gold
Age: 495
Build: Gangly with sinewy muscle.
Clothing: Whatever he can get his hands on. Usually a pair of breeches does just fine.

Weapons: None
Armor: None

Magic: Piran is a shapeshifter, so he can take the form of any animal he so desires. He can also shift into hybrids of up to three different animals for terrifying combinations. No matter what animal he shifts into, the skin or fur color is always black. However, other than his original, vaguely humanoid form, he cannot shift into any other humanoid form.
Magical Items: None

Skills and Abilities: Depending on what form he takes, Piran can be either tough, strong, or swift. He is also an adept thief and, surprisingly enough, a good singer, too.

Physical Appearance:

This will describe the form Piran was born in and the form he takes most often. He is vaguely humanoid in appearance, with jet black skin covering his gangly form lined with stringy muscle. His arms are thin and supple and end in hands with long, nimble fingers. His legs resemble the hind legs of a great horse, ending in large hooves. His head and neck are also those of a horse with a somewhat spiky black mane. His eyes are red speckled with spots of gold, and they betray an uncanny intelligence.

Race: Púca. A small sub-race of fae known only to exist on Rith.
Occupation: Troublemaker
Languages:

Common~The language all humans speak.

Sylvan~Since the Púca are considered a lower sub-race of fae, Piran has no trouble speaking the Sylvan tongue.

Kingdom/Place of Origin: Rith

Personality:

Piran is a gleeful trickster. He loves using his powers to confuse people, but he is only malicious to those who are malicious to him As devious a prankster as he is, he does have a benevolent side, as he is generous enough to lead kind people away from trouble. He also loves stealing things like food, clothing, and money, but believes that stealing other people is beneath him.

Personal History: *to be updated as I RP him.*

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Tale Unaeriah (tay-el oo-nair-rai-yuh)
Gender: Female
Height: Five feet, four inches
Hair: Ghostly white
Eyes: Opalescent
Age: Unknown (appears to be 25)
Build: Delicate and willowy
Clothing: Intricately designed robes in many shades of blue that seem to wrap around her willowy body, coupled with sandals and scarves.

Weapons: None
Armor: None

Magic: Tale’s primary magic comes from the moon. Obviously, she can only use this magic when the moon is visible, and what magic she can wield depends on the phases of the moon. Those abilities are as follows:

Waxing Crescent: Defensive Force
First Quarter: Ice Magic
Waxing Gibbous: Suppressive Force
Full Moon: Dark Magic
Waning Gibbous: Offensive Force
Last Quarter: Fire Magic
Waning Crescent: Awakening Force
New Moon: Light Magic

As far as minor magical abilities go, Tale can communicate telepathically with other people, but this does not mean she can read minds. She can also cast a healing aura upon other people and heal them of gashes, bruises, and broken bones.

Magical Items: A blue lotus flower perched in her hair near her left temple. They grow only on the Moon Realm, and even so are very rare flowers. The blue lotus houses a healing aura so powerful that it is said to resurrect any one person who has died. However, doing so results in the destruction of the lotus.

Skills and Abilities: Scrying texts, cooking, enhanced reflexes, jumping.

Physical Appearance:

Tale is short of stature and her build is very thin and willowy. Yet within those seemingly frail limbs lie sinewy muscles that line her delicate features. Her skin is an unnaturally pale blue color that almost seems to glow in the moonlight. Her head is slender and she has two short, deer-like antlers protruding from the temples of her head. Her ears are very long and stick outwards from her head. Her ghostly white hair reaches just past her shoulders and is braided and decorated with many blue beads and feathers. Her eyes are wide and are such an opal white that the presence of irises is almost nonexistent. Her face and body are decorated with dark blue tattoos that swirl around her body, and heavy tattoos about her eyes make them more pronounced.

Race: Moonfolk
Occupation: Wayfaring enchantress and guardian
Languages:

~Common: The language all humans speak.

~Moon-Scribe: The moonfolk have their own language, which has its own flowing script.

Kingdom/Place of Origin: Unknown

Personality:

Tale is normally a quiet and shy woman who rarely talks to anyone. She puts her duties and goals before anyone and anything else. She has a sense of goodness and justice, and will do everything in her power to make things right.

Personal History: (coming soon!)

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Danica
Gender: Female
Height: Five feet, three inches
Hair: White
Eyes: Dark blue
Age: Unknown, but appears to be twenty
Build: Finely curved
Clothing: Usually a small ragged shirt and ragged breeches, coupled with a cloak.

Weapons: A quarterstaff
Armor: None

Magic: Her magic is more spiritual power than magic, imbuing her fists and quarterstaff with the power to become lethal or non-lethal, at her will. She can also use this power to slow her fall so long as she's within arm's reach of a wall or similar structure.
Magical Items: None.

Skills and Abilities: Danica's monk training made her very swift and light of foot. She is also a good storyteller, cook, and dancer. She has a natural sense of direction, so she practically never gets lost in the wilderness.

Physical Appearance:

The first thing one would immediately notice about Danica is her skin; purest black, with what appear to be stars both bright and dim speckled all over. Even stranger is the fact that the "stars" on her body seem to move through the years, just as the stars in the night sky move through the years. Her snow-white hair is a slightly tangled mess that falls just past her shoulders, and her ears are short and pointed.

Race: Star-child.
Occupation: Monk and dancer
Languages: Common, Undercommon
Kingdom/Place of Origin: Unknown

Personality:

Despite her penchant for being shy, Danica is one of the most compassionate beings one will know. She is willing to try and make things better for those around her. The only caution she has is the fear of what others might think of her for her compassion. Though she is a pacifist at heart, she will not hesitate to defend herself or others from harm.

She was not always like this, however, as her history below will describe.

Personal History: coming soon!

[Angel of Chaos]

Name: Tyetha Oakstrider (tie-yeh-thah)
Gender: Female
Height: Five feet, three inches
Hair: Black
Eyes: Pale blue
Age: 130 (22 in the eyes of humans)
Build: Slender
Clothing: An item of her mother's creation coupled with gnome ingenuity, it is called a "shifting gown." It is crafted out of equal parts spider silk and moss thread into a comfortable and durable cloth. It is dyed a bright blue and embroidered simply with black and silver diamond patterns. In its whole form, it is a simple, long-sleeved dress that reaches her shins and that is coupled with a shawl. However, silver threads stitched across various places allow certain parts of the garment to be removed and changed. The sleeves can be shortened or removed completely, the midriff can be removed, the skirt can be shortened or turned into loose pants, and the shawl can double as a hood. However, Tyetha does not shift the gown for show; she only does so whenever the weather calls for it. Aside from this dress, all she wears are black leggings and brown leather boots.

Weapons: A simple knife, used more for cooking rather than fighting.
Armor: None

Magic:

Tyetha's magic is a unique form of geomancy. She can literally grow crystals from earth and stone. The color of the crystals depends on what material they are growing on, and the size and abundance depend on how wet the earth and stone is. Tyetha does not have complete control of this aura, however, so whenever it rains or if the earth beneath her feet is damp, tiny crystals no bigger than an infant's fingernail seem to grow wherever she walks. The crystals she is able to grow cannot grow on any material other than those made of stone or packed earth, and only if that stone or earth has some degree of wetness to it.

Also, something about Tyetha's crystal-growing aura causes these crystals to become infused with a kind of healing aura that can close wounds, mend broken bones, and even eradicate most poisons. However, this aura is trapped inside the crystal and cannot heal anything in this state, so the only way to release the aura is to break the crystal. Yet this healing aura is like a gas; it will rise and dissipate very quickly, making it useless unless captured somehow. So ironically, the only way for the healing aura to work is for the crystal to be inserted into the body right in the area where the wound is, then breaking it. Fortunately, smaller crystals tend to break more easily, yet still causes a lot of pain before the healing aura takes effect.

If Tyetha is in a situation where her life is threatened and she feels a great amount of fear, her magic goes out of control, causing a crystal cage to envelope her and sharp shards to erupt from the ground at high velocity in a localized area.
Magical Items: None.

Skills and Abilities:

Physical Appearance:

Tyetha is of slender and lithe build with subtle curves and pale skin with a slight, almost silver tint to it. Her ebon hair goes just past her shoulders and is kept free of any style, although the sides are adorned with several silver beads. Her ears are about six inches long and are swept back yet stick out of her narrow head at a forty-five degree angle. Her almond-shaped eyes are an icy blue in color, and tiny flecks of silver can be seen only by a very keen observer. Like all silver elves, Tyetha has her family mark tattooed on her right cheek; in this case, a blue line begins just next to her nose, travels just beneath her eye, and curves down on her cheek into a lose spiral. And although she never shows it in public, there is a birthmark on her left thigh in the shape of a red-colored, misshapen teardrop.

Race: Silver elf
Occupation: Healer
Languages:
~Common: The language all humans speak

~Elven: The language of her people.

Kingdom/Place of Origin: Meigia

Personality:

Many would consider Tyetha to be a withdrawn, nervous person in public, especially by elven standards. However, that is not always the case with her; it is just that recent events have simply made her skittish and paranoid. But aside from that, Tyetha is aloof and carefree, but to a much lesser extent than her kin, possibly due to such a long time away from her family. She tends to go into self-reflection a lot, and oftentimes she questions whether her magic is helping or harming people. This has made her a very stressed out being, but she calms down to the sounds of nature and peaceful music. She cares a lot about the welfare of other friends around her, but always makes sure she has room for her own welfare.

Personal History: Coming soon!