Coatl of the Imilla
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 143
Appearance: Skin just a skosh darker than an old clay pot. The shade of his hat occludes black, sun-beaten eyes, wavy, matted hair, and just enough beard to protect his chin. His hands are coarse and leathery, with wiry tendons. His height isn't quite imposing, it's but enough to lend credence to a purposeful stride and posture.
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Equipment: An old duster, scarf, and cotton shirt and slacks. A thin brigandine with copper plates and a military-grade pitchfork.
A single candle, a reagent of now forbidden degrees of power.
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Skills and Abilities: On his home turf, Coatl could manifest formidable elemental magic. Here the magic is suppressed down to more subtle manipulations. However, the spirit of Cuaté, the "Witch", is still with him.
Coatl is, at his core, a simple farmhand. His experience working on ranches and plantations has earned him a strong physique and a way with animals. When he was a teenager, he also spent some time as a city guard and militiaman, giving him basic competence with a variety of weapons.
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Biography: The Imilla Clan were migrant farmers and laborers, selling themselves to wealthier kingdoms. They were a people bound by working shanties, and stories of an Eden from whence their ancestors came. As a youth, Coatl felt they were naive. They possessed the most basic of martial skills and required the aid of capricious spirits with weak magic to protect them.
His suspicions were half true, for when they encountered a malevolent kingdom, they were very nearly enslaved. However, his parent's commitment to peace earned him, and him in particular, the loyalty of an ancestral spirit that was far more dependable.
Using the power of this spirit, Coatl and a few other "chosen ones" helped bring prosperity and safety to their clan, ensuring that no one else would try to enslave them. The golden years of their people came to an abrupt end, however, when the flood waters came...
Registered: Mar 20, 2021 23:42:08 GMT -5
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Post by Coatl of the Imilla on Nov 9, 2021 20:24:33 GMT -5
By order of the legendary fishman of the deep I have resurrected the theme song thread.
Don't be shy. Obscure, cliche, quirky, hard rock, anime soundtrack, classical piano, ancient Celtic flute Chinese Xun flute whatever! All welcome here.
For those of you who are less insane than the rest of us, you can also post whatever music inspires you to write and helps you focus. You can also share music that you think fits a particular favorite scene or memory of yours. If there is a connection between music and your roleplaying, it's welcome here.
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Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on Nov 9, 2021 20:25:28 GMT -5
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Khepri Goldenfeather
Committed
Roleplay posts: 96
Appearance: Smattered in golden feathers, Khepri glimmers from dawn to dusk. Vast, dark wings, lightening to ivory toward her spine, spread outward above her broad hips, supporting an otherwise petite frame. Black hair, straight as a waterfall, surrounds a round face. She has sharp, dangerous eyes that mimic the time of day, plump lips that tell you what you want to hear, and honey-sweet skin to ease her features. The only interruption to an otherwise heavenly visage is a pair of feet with toes and a heel ending in talons.
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Registered: Mar 23, 2021 19:54:50 GMT -5
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Post by Khepri Goldenfeather on Nov 9, 2021 20:53:04 GMT -5
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Maribel Correa
Established
Roleplay posts: 22
Appearance: Maribel is a towering, broad-shouldered woman with skin as pale as polished ivory. Though she has a square jaw and sharp, piercing features, there is a way about her movements that retains a soft, delicate manner.
She has yellow eyes like a cat's with impressively large pupils, becoming pitch black in the absence of light or when she spots something particularly fascinating. Her hair is predominantly white with a few strands of black beneath the layers, similar to how hair changes as humans age.
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Equipment: A bladed whip is the last surviving weapon in Maribel's repertoire after the great flood. Other than that, she has the crystal ball, which is little more than a toy now in the mists.
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Skills and Abilities: Transformation:
Maribel's vampiric curse can allow her to change her form into several distinct shapes: a shaggy black dog, a humanoid bat creature, and an oily snake, none of which are smaller than Maribel's human form.
Her senses and natural strength are heightened considerably at night and gutter just as significantly during the day. She has excellent night vision that causes her to be blinded completely in the presence of the sun. If in direct contact with sunlight, she burns.
The Correa family's shared ability is that which to create loyal thralls without having to sire them into vampires. Thralls are created with a bite, and sired vampires are created with a bite that doesn't kill the victim, and then feeding the victim the vampire's blood. Thralls share a portion of the vampire's strength and can still walk freely in the sun, though with a newly found disdain for it.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 14:42:37 GMT -5
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Post by Maribel Correa on Nov 10, 2021 17:05:37 GMT -5
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Laszlo
Established
Roleplay posts: 25
Age: Though in truth decades old, his appearance would hint at him being past 20 yet younger than 30.
Appearance: An inhumanly large man at well above two meters in height, he is pale as typical for most vampires. His visage and body is well chiselled, a powerful form given some effeminate polish (this comes in a few forms: clear use of makeup, painted nails, and floral perfumes). It would easily be considered handsome if it had not the appearance of being shattered like porcelain with black cracks all along his skin sometimes but not necessarily coinciding with veins. His hair is long and black, whilst his once blue eyes are now wholly white, absent of any colour on the bulbs; paradoxically, they turn black when illuminated by direct light as if casting shadows within themselves, softening again to a necrotic yellow if that light is of the sun. In between every rib is a slit in his flesh wherein he created improvised gills of his own body along with a great deal of other modifications he subsumes into his own meat. However few will see this of him, most instead seeing the ornate armour or robes he wears with a combination of nautical and vampiric themes. Hammered directly into his breast is a strange contraption of metal, oft leaking black ooze.
Equipment: Quite variant, a fact exacerbated by him hiding much under his flesh.
Skills and Abilities: He has the powers typical of the Correa vampiric bloodline, but extremely heavily watered down both by virtue of his severance from connection with the Matriarch Maribel, and further by the fact he starves himself of blood for ever longer periods of time. At the same time he seems supernaturally resilient and regenerative of any trauma done on his flesh even for a vampire.
To gain sufficient power to defeat Maribel, he has began experimenting upon his own body. For now these changes have mostly been the addition of the abilities of nautical creatures but he seeks to expand the arsenal of bestial abilities assimilated.
Reading a great many grimoires and tomes he has quite the magical repertoire.
All his flesh-craft has given him a non-negligible ability to shapeshift, though this is a quite slow process involving a violent breaking of bones and torn meats.
Biography: Not much is known. The best person to ask would be that bitch he keeps muttering about.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 13:11:49 GMT -5
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Post by Laszlo on Nov 10, 2021 18:42:12 GMT -5
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Crown of Fingers
Established
Roleplay posts: 36
Age: 80+
Appearance: Around 9ft tall with a body visually composed of a red marbled fleshy substance and hard bony plates, three legs terminating in roughly spherical nubs, a tall spire of meat where a head is located on a human, near the top of this spire is a vaguely humanoid mask devoid of most facial features. At the top of the spire are eight fully functional fingers. No visible eyes, ears, nose or mouth.
Equipment: A 10ft pole comprised of tough wood with homunculus carapace on both ends
Skills and Abilities: Due to their alien biology their internal antenna allows them to perceive the world based entirely on waves, airwaves for shape and sound and lightwaves for colour as well as other wavelengths but I doubt anyone's going be using radios or microwaves, another trait shared by all faceless is their ability to learn voraciously, they are capable of learning by observation, mimicking activities, reading, hearing and eating things, furthermore they are capable of growing new body parts to solve problems though this needs time to analyse the problem, gather and consume organic material and then grow the part the process can take up to days depending on the size and complexity of the part. Their carapace plating is completely disposable and can be safely removed if damaged to a point where it is no longer useful. Faceless also struggle to feel pain which helps when they remove parts of themselves to upgrade or replace thus is due to their decentralised nervous system. Furthermore the faceless can safely eat and digest any organic matter even if it's horribly rotten as they are naturally immune to infections due to their tendency to simply devour whatever's infecting them. Crown of Fingers can expel a stream stream of corrosive acids a short distance and can of course grip things with it's decorative crown.
Biography: A former Slave unsure of it's place in the universe, Crown of Fingers is one of many faceless that was lost by in the mist, they acted as a general construction overseer before the mist however they lack any sense of aesthetics as they used to simply instruct others to instructions. At the time of the flood they and other faceless were in transit to a separate colony.
Allegiances: The Faceless Homunculi
Registered: Jun 23, 2021 13:42:54 GMT -5
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Post by Crown of Fingers on Nov 10, 2021 18:48:24 GMT -5
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Sylavan Degrusson
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: Appears to be in his mid-twenties
Appearance: He stands easily two heads over the average human, his torso a lean triangular shape tapering down at the waist. Despite having a skinny silhouette, Sylavan has a chiseled physique. His tail extends past his ankles and curls outwars before it would reach the ground.
Sylavan features primarily red colored scales and a dark sand tan large scale-like plates spanning across the more vunerable parts of his body, one such is the upper-central portion of his neck or the scale plates going across his chest.
Sylavan wears a dark blue open vest over his chest and slim fitting black slacks down his legs with a black leather belt and silver belt buckle. He had no shoes, and nor does he care for them often preferring the comfort of his natural soles.
He has amber-yellow eyes and a dragonic facial structure with two slightly bent horns portruding from his head. Two odd silver scales sit under his left eye.
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Equipment: Sylavan carries with himself a dark steel bastard sword, a remnant of some old forgotten battle. He was never the sword's original owner, but he found it to be quite a useful thing to have on his travels. He keeps it sheathed to his left side, in a simple tan scabbard.
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Skills and Abilities: Sylavan is no stranger to magic and once had his body extensively enchanted and altered by magical means. It's for this reason that he's even a dragonborn, despite never being born one.
Sylavan has no access to magic like he once had, but he is still very physically capable and skilled in the his swordsmanship.
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Allegiances: For the Silver Father.
Place of Residence: wherever the wind calls him.
Registered: Jul 1, 2021 17:40:22 GMT -5
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Post by Sylavan Degrusson on Nov 10, 2021 19:03:42 GMT -5
I feel this fits for Sylavan
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Lucky
New
Roleplay posts: 3
Age: 27
Appearance: 5'6"
175lbs
Black, chin length hair
Blue eyes
Always wearing a gold, thin chain necklace with a wheel medallion
Always seen in black clothing, usually dresses
Equipment: A sack of various dice
Bombs
Black mask
Staff with a sling attached
Skills and Abilities: Gambling
Staff proficient
Agile
Fast
Sneak/Larceny
Biography: Having come here on the boat like the rest Lucky thought to make a name for herself. On the lam from trouble back home this fresh start may be just what she needs for a new lease on life-- and hopefully lord over the underworld by the end!
Allegiances: Herself
Registered: Nov 9, 2021 18:31:59 GMT -5
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Post by Lucky on Nov 11, 2021 17:54:35 GMT -5
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Baron Von Bluthand
New
Lamenting the Deaths of Millions
Roleplay posts: 7
Age: Uncountable
Appearance: A late 30's-early 40's German looking man with a sharp mustache that seemingly never needs maintenance. Wears a rather ornamental uniform, with various medals and emblems upon it. He wears his sleeves rolled up, and over it all he wears a white, bloodstained butcher's apron over it all.
Almost always followed by a procession of gorecrows.
Equipment:
"The Butcher's Friend", a Large machete like blade with a *nasty* hook on the end for ripping. Pricklehaube.
Skills and Abilities:
Prodigious skill in fighting and unnaturally high pain tolerance. His hands slowly drip blood, but to no detriment to himself.
Biography:
Incredibly old, near immortal (by which I mean, he has such unnaturally high pain tolerance and skill it's almost impossible to kill him outright in a fight) soldier, always followed by a pack of gorecrows. He Doesn't even remember his previous life before being inducted into the local army and experimented on.
His hands have been stained red and magically drip from eons of fighting, passing from one lord to another, never free due to binding magic, always used to cement their rule. He's been judge, jury, and most often executioner. Now, with all his potential lords dead and the mist weakening the magic he has a chance for freedom.
No Gods, no Masters.
Allegiances: None but himself
Registered: Oct 22, 2021 7:12:05 GMT -5
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Post by Baron Von Bluthand on Nov 11, 2021 19:01:13 GMT -5
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Clik'Ree
Established
Roleplay posts: 21
Age: 13 years of age, although the average lifespan of a Thri-Kreen is 30.
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Appearance: At 7'03", the Thri-kreen is a towering creature of chiton. Broad, with four arms that only add to the overall impression of size, Clik'ree (or Clik, as many prefer to refer to him as) is an intimidating and alien sight. Largely insectoid in form, with a Mantodea leaning it can be difficult for the average person not to feel unnerved in his presence.
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Equipment: Carrying a heavy battle-axe of mediocre make, the blade of the weapon is not regularly sharpened. Yet, with the sheer weight and the strength of the creature, one could easily discover that it doesn't have to be.
He has a bow made from the bone of a large animal, coupled with a quiver of crude but fierce arrows of barbed wood and bone. Wears a loin cloth made from the hide of a leopard.
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Skills and Abilities: Sheer strength is Clik'Ree's most pointed brutal ability. Strong even for his massive size, one might find it difficult to simply block one of his blows.
He is equipped with a natural armor called chiton, an exoskeleton that protects his inner viscera. It's strong, flexible, and silent, with the drawback that damage to it takes time to heal not unlike human flesh.
Thri-Kreen don't require sleep per se, but must still rest to regain their strength. Instead, they enter a state of torpor.
Last of all, he is quick and capable of leaping great distances.
Registered: Nov 11, 2021 16:31:32 GMT -5
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Post by Clik'Ree on Nov 11, 2021 19:20:45 GMT -5
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Vasco Correa
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Appearance: Thin and lithe, Vasco is his mother's antithesis, taking only her broad shoulders as his own. His narrow, diamond-shaped face and long features can be seen as striking, if not handsome, by many.
He has a head of immaculately trimmed, dirty blonde hair and it is clear he takes great care of it, trimming and oiling and all the works.
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Equipment: Vasco's preferred weapon of choice is a special rapier that houses a thin, hollow chamber typically filled with a neurotoxin found back in their homeland. The chamber can also be filled with other substances.
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Skills and Abilities: Vasco's vampiric curse can allow him to change her form into several distinct shapes: a shaggy black dog, a blackbird, and an eel.
His senses and natural strength are heightened considerably at night and gutter just as significantly during the day. He has excellent night vision that causes him to be blinded completely in the presence of the sun. Despite this, he does not burn in direct sunlight.
The Correa family's shared ability is that which to create loyal thralls without having to sire them into vampires. Thralls are created with a bite and a magical sigil. Sired vampires are created with a bite from the vampire, and then the ingestion of the vampire's blood. Thralls share a portion of the vampire's strength and can still walk freely in the sun, though with a newfound disdain for it. They are not vampires themselves but have a substantial, artificial fondness for them.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 17:17:59 GMT -5
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Post by Vasco Correa on Nov 12, 2021 0:27:50 GMT -5
(i'll be honest i made a whole playlist for him to get in the mood)
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Katiana Graves
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 109
Appearance: When you want to hide a tree, you hide it in a forest. Similarly, if you wanted to hide Katiana, you would put her in a crowd of humans. Brown hair, brown eyes, thin features, and an unremarkable height may not set her apart, but the way she manipulates her expressions and gallivants around certainly do. Those who know her are familiar with a particularly mischievous left-sided smirk, above which forms a dimple. Those who have yet to meet her will immediately know her for the way she bounces from one place to the next, holding her skirts in her hands.
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Equipment: A recurve bow made of elm, a small wood-cutting ax, and a skinning knife complete Katiana's non-exhaustive equipment. Being an adventurer who often loses herself in the wilderness, she also favors flint and tinder, rope, medicines, a waterskin, sewing supplies, and food rations.
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Skills and Abilities: Though not particularly concerned in the art of warfare, Katiana has been a hunter for as long as she could hold a bow, and over the years, she became proficient with it. One could assume that if she needed to point her arrow at a charging warrior rather than a boar, she would have the same chances of hitting it. Years of adventuring have also taught her skills in survival.
Though she has no skills in magic, nothing is stopping her from learning. Katiana's family has a history of mages, though none have been particularly gifted.
Registered: Mar 17, 2021 16:34:46 GMT -5
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Post by Katiana Graves on Nov 12, 2021 0:43:40 GMT -5
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Nomi
Committed
Roleplay posts: 64
Age: 24
Appearance: A young, diminutive human with pale white hair and soft yellow eyes, donning simple robes befitting the life of a nomad. The robe's left sleeve has been ripped off completely, exposing runic tattoos along the length of their arm, and a fresh gash made by the claws of a monster. Though much of the rest of their skin is covered by their robes, the ends of more tattoos can be seen creeping along their neck and wrists.
Equipment: Their possessions are few in number - A gnarled wooden staff, a dagger, a leather pouch containing divining equipment, and the clothes on their back.
Skills and Abilities: Nomi is a Seer of their people before arriving in the Mists, and has limited capabilities in ways of divination. However, these talents are known by them to be unreliable at best - they prefer to rely on their wits in order to get by in the new world.
Registered: Jun 11, 2021 0:33:43 GMT -5
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Post by Nomi on Nov 12, 2021 0:55:34 GMT -5
Them :3
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Laute, the Gourmet Glutton
Established
First Child of Gula, Devourer of Studiose
Roleplay posts: 27
Appearance: Inhumanly pallid and freckled in onyx, Laute is an odd figure at first sight. When one adds the curved horns, the bovine ears, and demonic writing across her skin, you get something decidedly hellish. Her eyes are yellow with a rectangular pupil, just like a goat's, and she sports a pair of powerful hooves in place of feet. Her hair is incredibly thick and appears to absorb the light around it, leaving it devoid of texture to the eye. A long, tufted tail lashes from her lower back.
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Skills and Abilities: Laute's purpose is to overindulge in fine things, thus having a heightened sense of smell and taste. She can detect a variety of poisons, provided she's run into them before. Limited control over fire, frost, and smoke are all within her domain. Should her master (currently Naoki) wish it, she can change forms into anything typically affiliated with glutton, all of which include but are not limited to piglike, oxlike, and snakelike shapes.
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 13:18:24 GMT -5
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Post by Laute, the Gourmet Glutton on Nov 12, 2021 1:33:33 GMT -5
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Ivoron
New
Roleplay posts: 3
Age: -----------------------------------------------------------
Appears to be in his late twenties. But what is age to an elf?
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Appearance: With wild coppery red hair tied tight into a bun, tanned skin, and brilliant green eyes, the wood elf looks to be as standard as they come. He is of average height for his people, standing around 5'10. Ivoron is garbed in simple yet fine earth-toned attire, with a small leather pack upon his back. Thin light geometric tattoos trace his face and arms while a variety of piercings mark his ear, including a large crystal on his left side. The elf typically bears a neutral expression. His figure is lithe but trim, thin for a Rustwood elf. His face falls on the line between angular and soft. And if one does have a keen eye, it can be noted that the elf walks with a limp hailing from his left side.
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Full image of him casting found here:
https://imgur.com/a/YjTv2LZ
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Equipment: > Backpack:
In Ivoron's pack, a variety of carved steel and wood tools for survival in the wooded and swampy regions lay. Such objects for hunting small game to flint and steel to light fire to charcoal to a lightweight rope can all be found. There is a smaller leather pack of metal and glass tools for specimen collection and various vials of labeled herbs utilized in cooking, healing and magical rituals. Some bigger containers have salves, oils, and tonics used for cleaning wounds, different fragrances, and keeping skin soft. And at the bottom of the bag, four tomes weigh it down, one being a leather-wrapped journal.
> His Person:
Ivoron has a small coin purse that sits in his hip bag. This smaller bag contains a roll of linen bandages, and supplies for writing such as rolled parchment, inks, and quills. A small clear quartz crystal on a brown leather cord hangs around his neck and as always a gnarled wooden staff rests in his left hand.
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Skills and Abilities: > Skills:
- Herbalist: Ivoron spent decades working with plants as his sole company. He knows how to identify, care for, grow and cultivate many different species of plants and fungi. He also knows how to dry herbs, create essential oils, and make a variety of products from various flora.
- Wild Man: Ivoron fended for himself as a hermit in the woods for multiple decades, not including the skills he learned from his mentor Jeram. He knows how to hunt, forage, fell trees, tend to wounds, sail, and take shelter in wooded and swampy climates. This includes a variety of survival skills such as knotwork, reading the skies, creating crude watercrafts like rafts/cannons, and purifying water.
- Magical Theory: Ivoron studied to become an archmage, with some results. He has a keen mind and is quite knowledgable on magical theory and how to carry out rituals, however, his own powers are limited at best.
- Prince: Ivoron was born with high privilege, hailing from a small wood elf kingdom in his homeland. He knows how to read, speak and write in the languages of man, elf, and dwarf. He has had manners classes thus knows many different courtly rituals and behaviors.
- Wood Elf: The Rustwood Elves are a strong people. Physically, they have a heartier constitution than their slight cousins. They are able to live in a variety of tough terrain, and can easily take to a nomadic lifestyle. However, a full-blooded Rustwood elf has to work on honing the art of dexterity, due to their heavier frames. Meaning that they have a human level of clumsiness at times. Like others in their elven family, they possess keen eyesight and excellent hearing above the average human.
> Abilities:
Since coming to the Mistborne Isles, Ivoron's small abilities have waned even more. He has the following ability currently:
- The Speaker of the Land: Ivoron's magic primarily focuses on speaking to the earth and its creatures. All of his magic requires 'connection' meaning he must physically touch the ground he wants to 'communicate' with. Once touching the ground, Ivoron can talk to the land in a five-foot by five-foot region This ability does not gain him instant insight but allows him to have a conversation if there is one there. This ability can be focused on a singular plant or animal, such as a tree or fox, by placing his hand upon the bark or fur. His hand must remain in place in order for the conversation to continue, if it is broken the connection is severed.
((OOC Note: Consent always asked for before using this ability.))
This is not a taxing ability, but repeated use can cause Ivoron to feel drained and sluggish, unable to keep up with much physical activity.
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Biography: Prince Ivoron Otheron of the Rustwoods was born to Queen Alloralia and King Kythrel. The second son of three, Ivoron had little true responsibility with his life. Merely settle down with another royal, expand the kingdom and continue the bloodline; that was all that was asked of him.
However, this was not what Ivoron wanted.
As a child, he was quiet. Often found hidden behind vellum and page in the royal study. The young elf, who adored epic and bard song, dreamed of the day when his destiny was revealed like in the heroic tales.
That day never came.
Ivoron grew older, and the pressures of his privilege weighed down upon him like a heavy stone. He was… not socially graceful. His shyness barred him the ability to speak well, sometimes silencing him entirely, typically around foreign dignitaries or potential spouses. The court’s rumors did not treat Ivoron kindly due to this lack of natural charisma plus his fetish for reading rather than participating in sport, hunt, or other more ‘normal’ wood elf pursuits.
These problematic behaviors drew concern from his parents, and after a series of consultations with various advisors… the decision was made to enroll Ivoron in magical tutelage. His people were not the most gifted in the magical arts, but it was not entirely unheard of.
He’d made a fine Archmage and Lord Rothnor was getting up in centuries… thus the Prince was sent away.
A private human tutor on a remote island in the Starlit Sea by the name of Jeram attempted to teach Ivoron the wizarding arts. He spent ten long years teaching his eager pupil magic… with some results. Ivoron’s mind was an eager sponge, able to grasp the concepts and theories with ease and could easily debate many a magical principle. However, replicating the effects of magic on his own was far more challenging.
The time spent with Jeram was not at all a loss, Ivoron learned many a skill from the old human. He learned the art of sailing and fishing. He learned how to fend in the wilds of the nearby archipelago, and how to forage. He learned plant identification and general wound care.
And he learned what companionship was like for the first time.
However, ten years is a long time for a human and Jeram knew that their time together was growing short. Jeram, one day over stew, told Ivoron that he had no more to teach him and that he must now let the world guide his study. Ivoron protested vehemently, but after weeks of convincing, he finally set sail from the only home he knew.
The years that followed he does not speak of. But it took two decades for the Otheron family to notice he hadn’t returned yet and another three decades to locate him.
When they found him he was dirty, his fiery red hair dyed a boring brown, wearing commoner's garb. He had become a hollow-eyed recluse in a shack, hiding out in the Shamblebrook Forest. His left leg was gone, cut off below the knee, and replaced with a wooden appendage.
They had to use force to drag him back to the Rustwoods under the cover of night, no one could see the second son in such a state. He was reclothed and his hair returned to its proper red shade as he was brought home.
In the meanwhile, his parents scrambled. How would they spin this tale? Their awkward strange son, who mysteriously disappeared to train to become an archmage, was now… this dirty herbalist?
Then they realized there was someone that could make any song sing.
There was an elvish bard named Lyrielle the Talespinner who was rotting in a spire. She needed to clear her name after writing a play about the royal family which landed her in said spire.
That was how Ivoron, unfortunately, ended up traveling with the 'Jewel of the Rustwoods', sailing the Bent Reed across the gentle Starlit sea. Until the mists came.
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Allegiances: None Presently
Place of Residence: None Presently
Registered: Nov 20, 2021 21:34:21 GMT -5
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Post by Ivoron on Nov 21, 2021 14:57:58 GMT -5
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