Characters of the Town (OOC)

[Barrik_Arsland]

Name: Barrik Arsland
Race: Werewolf
Class: Level 18 Wizard
Alignment: Neutral
Age: 23
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 155 Lbs.
Hair: Short black
Eyes: Blue
Equipment: Two rings of soul unity, his journal, and a cloak.

Armaments: He doesn't need any.
Armor: None, not his style.


Backstory: Barrik is currently trying to correct a mistake he made almost 10 years ago. No one knows what he has done in his past, but it is clear that he is troubled by it.


Flashy Description:He walks aroun wearing a cloak with the hood down, and is always carrying his journal.

Common Knowledge: Barrik is an intelligent person, and has a wide array of spells to destroy pretty much anyone.

Interesting Notes: It is rumored that he has made a deal with a devil.

[churchofbanjo]

Bel'Gaer Shapeshiftlayre
Race: Umm... Unknown? Supposedly an elf
Class: Transmuter 15/ Master Transmogrifist 10
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Age: Supposedly 263, assuming he is an elf...
Height: Varying
Weight: Varying
Eyes: Always glowing hazel
Equipment: His staff, named Shiftstave.

Backstory: Supposedly an elf, he walked into the forest one day, and when his parents went searchign, they found a multicolored dragon with 13 heads, tentacles, and spines asking them for some supper. Suffice to say, he has spent the rest of his time mastering his powers. The only constant thing about him is his eye color, which is always glowing hazel. He also has a knack for changing other things, in additino to himself. He has been exiled from certain places because of accidents involving loss of control. He is in the town now, enjoying himself. One of his main philosophies is "Law? Who likes Law? Chaos is more fun." No one will really know his full story, not even him.

Common Knowledge: His favorite shape is an elf with raven black hair, wings of shadow, fangs, and silver scales. He pretty goes about without much thought. He enjoys making other people's lives more enjoyable, and has only been seen angry once, and split up the individual particles of someones soul and turned them into antimatter, creating a chain reaction which h would have blown up the world except for the good o'l gods. Since then, they chastized him, and he can no longer make antimatter.

Interesting Notes: Very powerful, with absolutely no control at any time. The fact that he doesn't care somehow gives him control. A paradox? The world may never solve it. Rumors of a lover are unconfirmed.

[Epix]

Epix Apollonius

Race: Elf
Age: 200 yrs
Class: Bard 20 / Dragon disciple 10
Alignment and Temperament: Is neutral/good. He is rather shy around humans and other races. He is naturally courageous, but his association with dragons has added avarice as one of his qualities.
Height: 5’3”
Weight: 120 lbs.
Hair: Black
Skin: Tan
Other Features: Because of his association with dragons, he has a pair of dragon wings sprouting from his back. He usually makes them invisible, so as to not alarm any people he meets. He also has a pair of fangs and claws on his hands.
Equipment: He carries a long svardstav around with him. The svardstav can extend on command and may also call down a bolt of lightning. He also carries a shield and a scimitar. He hides a flute in his jacket, and plays every once in a while.

[Backstory]
Epix came from the Moonwood, on the slopes of the Dragonclaw Mountains. He spent his early life in a society of secluded sun elves, until one day he was captured by a group of blue dragons. He was able to wheedle his way out of being eaten by playing incessantly on a flute that he had received as a gift. He spent many years afterward with the dragons, singing songs and learning all about dragons and their many races. During this time, he began to change. The magical aura that surrounds a dragon can change living things, and so it changed Epix. Eventually, he left the cave where he had lived with the dragons and traveled to find a place that was bets suited for him. He used his talent for the flute as a way of earning his pay. One day, he was traveling along the coast when he was assailed by a group of Vikings. They brought him back to their ship, where he once again used his flute to get out of the situation. The captain of the ship, Jander Tarquin, seeing Epix as a valuable asset, then hired him to be their bosun. Epix agreed, and now he sails with Jander and ‘The Black Adder’.

[Common Knowledge]
- Epix has an innate sense of direction, and has a keen sight that serves him well as a lookout.
- Because of his relative seclusion during most of his life, Epix likes to be left alone.
- Due to his traveling, Epix is very knowledgeable in many areas.
[Notes]
Epix likes to hang around Bulzars Brews and Ales. He finds Bulzar very charming and constantly chats with the cat Turamarth.

[Ongoing Storyline]
- Is trying to retreive Alzora’s Gem from the dragon Daemorous.
- Sailing with Jander and ‘The Black Adder’
- Working part-time at Bulzars

[Mr.mandudeguysirperson]

Name: Naoli Speckle
Race: Halfling
Class: Rogue 20/Shadowdancer 10
Alignment: Neutral
Age: 32
Height: 3'2"
Weight: 32 lbs
Appearace: My Avatar! Short Black hair, tanned skin, blue eyes, handsome face. He wears a black cape with white lines on the edges, a black shirt with a white line going down the middle, black pants and white boots.
Equipment: quite a few daggers, two magic short swords (made from some special metal), two handcrossbows, thieve's tools, a few bandages, cloth, some magical subtance, sacks to hold the items, and a glowing teal sphere that orbits Naoli's head.

About the sphere: His name is Tyranis and is kinda like Naoli's guide to what is going on, what they should do, or whatever Naoli needs to know. He has an inner power to shield himself, have all of Naoli's powers, and give Naoli a small boost of what he needs (Strength, Agility, Intelligence, etc.).

Backstory: Naoli lived with his traveling families during his childhood. He would always get into trouble with others because of his actions. He pickpocketed, stole, and fought in his caravan. When he was 22, everyone decided that he should leave. They gave him a short sword, some armor, and food and left him in an area. When he woke up, Naoli was furious but a bit happy that he had something to eat. After breakfast he chose a direction and went that way. He ran into few caravans, towns, places of interest and many other things. He has been going that way for the last 10 years. He has finnally reached The Town... Of course, no one knows this.

Notes: Naoli doesn't like to be asked about his past, and if he is, he is likely to not answer or just walk away. Naoli will sometimes steal if needs something for himself. Right now he creates bandages with a magical substance that supposedly heals you right up. He is acting friendly right now.

Naoli speaks in Seagreen. Tyranis speaks in Teal.

Ongoing Storyline: Finding out who The Nine are.
Being contacted by a Moon Angel.

[Gemini]

Name: Gemini
Race: Celestial
Age: ??
Height: 6'0
Weight: ??
Appearence: Gemini wears a green magus robe (short robe) with golden gauntlets. On his back is a scabbard wrapped in cloth. Around his neck is a blue scarf. On his legs are some white hunter pants, he has dark green eyes and golden greaves. His sword, named, "Heaven's Serenade" is almost as tall as his is. On his ears are two celestial-made earrings.
Background: His former god Valkar, recently sent him on a mission to destroy the slums; because he claimed it unfit for living, and unjust. After destroying half of the slums, Gemini severed the bond between his god. He was then captured and put in prison. The rest is unknown.

[Reptilus]

Plasma Snake

Race: Human
Age: 31 Years
Class: Spy, Assassin, Ninja, Soldier, Mercenary, Psionic Talent. All of those kinds of things.
Alignment and Temperament: Neutral Good. Not a big fan of governments and authority figures, Snake will still work with them if it benefits the greater good.
Height: 6'0”
Weight: 140 lbs.
Hair: Black
Skin: Pale
Other Features: His eyes glow irridescent green.
Equipment: Stealth suit, body armour, CODEC, thermal goggles, cigarettes, bandana, FAMAS, SOCOM, PSG-1, Stinger, Nikita, C4, Chaff Grenades, Stun Grenades.

[Backstory]
The least-known fourth survivor of Les Enfants Terribles, the series of clones of Big Boss made by the United States government in the cold war, Plasma Snake was the genetic experiment of the group. Given the recessive traits of his clone-father, like his "brother" Solid Snake, but infused the with psychic potential of a russian agent working in the same unit as Big Boss.
His existance "forgotten" in the paper-burning that was used to cover-up the scandal Les Enfants Terribles would create, Plasma Snake was lost in the paperwork cover-up, meaning nobody noticed when he was stolen away from the lab where he was being raised and sent outside for his training. Travelling the world, he is the least nationally associated of his three brothers, and the one most able to remain incognito.

[Common Knowledge]
- Plasma Snake is known as Snake or Reptilus for short.
- He is a clone of a legendary soldier infused with the genes of a psionic talent.
- Despite years of doing it, Snake abhorrs killing and would prefer to complete his objectives with a minimum of it, although he won't hesitate to do it.

[Notes]
Snake mentioned getting away from the "war-torn graveyard of a world" he came from and starting up a quiet detective's agency here in the world.

[Ongoing Storyline]
- Trying to get the funds to start up a detective agency in the slums.

[hr]

John Gibson Foster

Race: Troll (Shadowrun)
Age: 26 years
Class: Street Samurai
Alignment and Temperament: Chaotic Good. Stereotype of the alignment, really. Think the heroic outlaw cowboy type.
Height: 7’2”
Weight: 280 lbs.
Hair: Blue
Skin: Greenish tint
Other Features: Two massive, unshaved horns atop his head, tusklike teeth in his mouth.
Equipment: Two Ares Predator pistols, a few assault rifles, a sawed-off shotgun, and a good number of grenades. Lined leather duster to hide all of it in, Yakuza-grade body armour, vatgrown muscles, dermal plating, Smartlink, wired reflexes, combat knife.

[Backstory]
John Gibson Foster is a Shadowrunner from Seattle who travels down the coast into Mexico frequently on runs. Known for his skill in both legal and illegal jobs, Foster's funds racked up. He fell in love with a kidnapped girl he was suppsed to find in mexico, although she was later killed. He's over it. He wears his hair in a blue Mohawk and is of a much leaner, more agile build than many of his fellow trolls.

[Common Knowledge]
- John Gibson Foster's love of old cowboy movies is evident from speaking to him once. He even hums "Do not forsake me" as he walks into battle sometimes.
- The strength of his plastic dermal plating is enough to deflect bullets better than kevlar. Projectiles of less force are even more easily resisted.
- Foster's not to be challendged i na long-distance fight. He has wired reflexes and computer targeting to make sure he draws first and doesn't miss.
[Notes]
Probably hanging around the slums.

[Ongoing Storyline]
About to get involved with the undead in the slums.

[Penguinizer]

Name: Drarinth Walker
Age:24-ish
Class:????
Alignment:Neutral
Height: 5 feet, 4inches
Weight: ????
Hair:Blondish-Brown
Skin:Tanned white
Other things: Prefers to wear a hat covering most of his face.
Equipment: White leather jacket, white pants. An enchanted sword and a guarter staff (which he can change the shape of at will). Some stuff as I see necessary.

[Backstory] Not much is known about him, he left his home town after doing something that still haunts him to this day.
He travels around, but is now thinking about settling down.

[Common knowledge] He prefers to not fight. He can perform many feats people would think of as in-human. He has powerful psionic potential.
__________________________________________________ ______


Name:Gorgotz
Age: Unknown (with orks, its hard to know)
Race:Ork (More like Warhammer 40k ork than D&D ork)
Class:Warboss
Alignment:Neutral (Survival is what matters, and strenght)
Size: Around 2 or so meters.
Weight:150 pounds.
Hair color: Dyed Red.
Skin color: Green, natural color for orks.
Philosophy: Orks are made for fightin, no humie is tougher than an ork, no ork is tougher then me.

Equipment:Master Crafted Power Fists with Power Claws attached to them. He also is armed with 2 hand held "Kustom
Shootas" and a larger two handed "Bigga Custom Shoota". He also has a set of large, highly protective power armor that is strong enough to stop most conventional weapons and explosives. He also has an implanted targeting system(rare for an ork) that allows him to aim with extra accuracy and see things not normally seen by the naked eye. He also has a set of Powered armor. And many more salvaged items such as explosives and more weapons and machinery. Also all necesary survival gear.

Back Story: He used to be a warlord, leading a massive Waaagh! that was sweeping over planet Kronus before being caught in a massive warp anomaly caused by a breach in the webway gates. This killed most of the orks that Gorgutz was leading but he survived and was transported to the town. He is used to being attacked on sight by humans and holds a grudge against them. He is un-easy about the fact that no one is attacking him. He is now adjusting to life in the town.

Common Info: He is very war ready,always prepared for battle. He is surprisingly smart for an ork, knowing when to back down and when to assault. He also knows some other languages and can learn them quickly.

[blackout]

Name: Shas'O Nukular
Race: Tau
Age: 19 years
Class: Fire Warrior
Alignment and Temperament: Chaotic Evil, will kill anything that gets in his way.
Height: 5'6
Weight: 107 lbs.
Hair: What's hair? :(
Skin: Blue


Description: Shas'O Nukular is your stereotypical Tau, other than his eyepatch, the scar on his left cheek, and all of the scars on the rest of his body. In his battlesuit, the paintjob is dark red, and seems splattered on, making it look like he's covered in blood from the body of some poor idiot that got in his way.


Equipment: High-yield Plasma Rifle, dual Pulse Chaingun, a Neutron Blaster, Jetpack, Dual heavy missle launchers, and dual large flamethrowers, all installed onto his insanely customized XV22 Battlesuit. He also has alot of stolen weapons not installed into his battlesuit, a heavy bolter, a multilaser, a repeating pulse rifle, and a sniper rifle(with night vision scope. >:) ). And a CD/MP3 player in his helmet. Has a very fresh supply of fragmentation, plasma, photon, EMP, smoke and silly-string grenades, as well as something he calls Light-Snare Traps, which explode and stun anyone who looks directly at the blast. He also has six-dozen robotic worker/fighter drones, fitted with light multilasers. Not really suited for combat, but can fight in self-defense, or establish a light defensive perimeter.

Backstory: This Tau comes from parts unknown, but it's obvious that he's fought and killed in multiple conflicts. He seems almost insane, saying that he likes to kill. He laughs when he causes pain in someone, but he always ends it quickly whenever he's trying to kill something. He doesn't kill people at random, but he says that he'll kill anything that he gets paid for. So, he seems to be a cross between mercenary, bounty hunter, and assassin. He hasn't decided which, but he's got the gear, and training. Need someone terminated? He's your guy. He seems very upset occasionally, but that's almost always when he's drunk on 'inferior human alcohol.' He can be very quiet, despite his armor. His voice is sometimes unsettling. He occasionally growls at people, almost like it's a warning. As for how he ended up out here, no telling. He says he got whacked over the head, and woke up on the outskirts of town. He leads a decent-sized army of Tau soldiers. These people appear to be known collectively as the Crimson Raiders, a mercenary company under Nukular's command. Their last strength count estimate said that the company consisted of 36 Devilfish Ground APCs, 24 Hammerhead Gunships, 12 Skyray Gunships, 100 Crisis Battlesuits, 200 Broadside Battlesuits, 500 soldiers in standard Fire Warrior battlesuits with repeating pulse rifles, 100 in Shas'ui battlesuits with repeating pulse rifles and photon grenades, 70 Stealth Suits with repeating pulse rifles, 30 Shas'vre Stealth Suits with Fusion Blasters and EMP grenades, 6 Drone Carriers loaded with heavily armed gun drones and sheild drones, and 50 armed hoverbikes that can be used for recon and hit-and-run attacks. They have one carrier, with 24 Scarab-class Troop Transports and 2 dropships to carry it all to the surface. Sometimes, they use ODPs, or Orbital Drop Pods, to get troops and supplies to the surface when one particular location needs immediate reinforcements. The carrier also has six wings of five fighters each, and two wings of three bombers each. Finally,they have hundreds of OPDs loaded with anti-infantry and anti-vehicle turrets, which can be launched to give much-needed fire support to troops on the ground. All of this is loaded onto the carrier, and the smaller ships it has onboard. Aside from the carrier, a battlefleet known as Omega is under Nukular's command, consisting of 50 frigates, 30 destroyers, 20 cruisers, 10 battleships, and five dreadnoughts. To top it all off, a warship acts as the flagship of the fleet. All of this is lead by Nukular, and two lesser Shas'Os under his command.

Common Knowledge: Not hard to tell that he's an alien. ;) He likes the theme music from the TV show 'Angel' for some reason. He also has a small army of robotic worker drones he uses to clean up the damages from any chases he commences.

Current Storyline: Finding someplace to plant a landing beacon to get his company planetside.

[Dark_Wind]

Name: Dougal
Race: Human
Class: Soulknife
Alignment: Heaven's Exiles (and himself)
Age: 28
Height: 5' 2"
Weight: 97 lb

Appearace: Dougal is short and slight of build, with large, dark, glaring eyes, short, jet black hair, and fair skin. His leather armor is dyed light grey, but his boots and gloves are black. There are numerous pouches and pockets along his belt, but he carries no weapons.

Equipment: Dougal's armor is magically strengthened, and he wears a ring on his right hand beneath his glove that allows him to teleport moderate distances. He has another ring, worn on his left hand, again beneath the glove, which summons a horde of dretches and was given him by Cain before he died. He has no need of any weapon other than his mind blade, which he calls Windfall. He also tends to carry a variety of miscellaneous items in his extra-dimensional pouches, which range from ropes to torches to his oft used explosives to soap. On his head, he wears a thin silver headband which he can use to transmit his thoughts to other creatures.

Backstory: Dougal was born in a small backwater human village, and discovered his psionic talents entirely by accident around age twelve. At this point he had an epiphany and realized that such power had much potential for use in bettering his own personal existence. He left his village and went about doing exactly that, treasure hunting in ruins, stealing the poorly guarded merchandise of traders, and hiring himself out to various people who needed something done.

Common Knowledge: Dougal has the look of a thief but carries no weapons openly. He is very softspoken and seldom reveals much about himself personally.

[beholder]

((has anyone made a santa character? and would anyone object if i did?))

[Jonnadiah]

Name: Jonnadiah (pronounced Jon 'uh' DIE 'uh')
Race: Unknown
Class: Unknown. Jonnadiah is clearly gifted with magic, though it is uncertain the source of his power.
Alignment/Temperment: Lawful Evil
Age: Also unknown, estimated to be anywhere form 3600-4000 years based on his memories, the mark on his face and some of the spells he casts.
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 184 lb

Appearace: Jonnadiah is tall, slender, and very fair skinned. Dark Brown (almost black), pinstraight hair falls about halfway down his back and shimmers in the light with every slight movement of his head or simply the ambient air. His facial features are sharp, and he in attractive, in a very strange, almost frightening way. His eyes are the deepest jade color, and are slightly wider than tall, giving him an almost elvish appearence. (Although his ears are not pointed.)

The most striking feature is the thirteen pointed star enscribed in a circle (the proper term is Triskadecacle) on his left cheek, (The diameter of the circle runs from the center of his ear to the center of his nose and includes the area over his left eye.) The origin of this marking is unknown, though it is clearly not inked, nor is it a freak birthmark or skin pigmentation.

Jonnadiah's slender body is covered in very plain, dark green silk robes that end just a few millimeters from the floor. The backs of his hands are covered in shimmering, reptilian-like scales and the palms of his hands have a very faint blue tinge.

Equipment: None visible

Backstory: Jonnadiah prefers to keep his backstory hidden. (Either he himself doesn't know it, or doesn't wish for others to intrude on his business)

Common Knowledge: Jonnadiah tells everyone his is from Bael-dir-Nawanyae, a very large, very infamous settlement of magic users sandwiched between the Great Ocean and a large forest on a continent that was completly drowned out during a freak tsunami about 3500 years ago. Most credible information about the settlement has been lost to the ages.

============================================
The Scarecrow

A mysterious man who epitomizes sangfroid and colletiveness. His most noticable features are his glowing red eyes and stolid facial expression. A very wise, very potent magic user who speaks solely with telepathy. He calls himself Babhdàn.

Babhdàn's most noticable feature is the lack of limbs, which are instead wooden sticks. Babhdàn hops around as opposed to walking on these inarticulate limbs. He wears a tattered blue jacket and brown pantaloons.

Currently a member of the Police, though he is clearly distrusted by everyone because of his mysterious nature and frighteningly keen observational skills.

============================================
Name: Kohaku
Race: Human
Class: Monk
Alignment/Temperment: Lawful Good. Kohaku always sees the best in people and won't fight unless absolutely provoked.
Age: 23
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 120 lb

Appearace: Kohaku is graced with both beauty and intelligence. Despite her name, she is not of oriental decent. She has brown eyes that twinkle with kindness and happiness. Her hair is a light brown and falls in waves down just below her shoulders. She is in good health from over two decades of martial arts training.

She wears loose fitting black silk pants that allow for great manueverability, she has a form-fitting short sleeved shirt that is a monotone light blue and also made of silk.

Equipment: Her fists. She wears a silver waxing crecent moon pendant around her neck.

Backstory: Kohaku was born and raised on the sea by her merchant mother and warrior father. She began training in the martial arts at the age of 2 and has since gain incredible proficiency. She graduated to shodan level by age 5 and around the time of adolescene seemed to unlock an incredible talent in controlling her emotions and body. Because of this, she is almost always in a good mood and will only use her gift of strength and grace for her protection and the protection of others.

Common Knowledge: Kohaku is outstandingly kind and generous, she will often tell people her entire backstory if they care to listen.

[Rockphed]

Name: Rockphed
Race: Human
Class: Rogue/Barbarian 4/Druid Enough
Alignment/Temperment: Neutral Neutral/Rather easygoing. He just wants a drink, and some time with the ladies, and to smash stuff
Height: 6'6''(okay, 6'3 3/4'' without the heels)
Weight: 210 lbs
Hair and skin color: Varies. Hair is normally light brown or dark blond, while skin is slightly tan.
Eye Color: Hazel

Appearance: Rockphed is wearing wooden armor under his green robe. His boots have 2 and a quarter inch heels, making him appear taller than he is. When he loses his shirt, there are several scars running down his back from the base of his neck. Otherwise, he looks fairly normal.

Backstory: Rockphed entered druidic training at 10 when his village burned in a freak firestorm. After finishing his training, he decided that there was too much evil the world, and spent 5 years seeking to squash it with the help of some good adventurors. Along the way, he gained some useful skills(like raging at the stupid paladin, and picking the paranoid wizard's locks) and some less than useful habits(he always seems to be carrying an erotic scroll.)
He walked into the town in some confusion(he thought he was a moose at the time,) but now is content to let other people have fun.

Equipage: Wooden armor that works as well as steel of +1 ness-ness-na-ka, gianormous scimitar that he weilds one handed of +3 shocking burst keen-ness-ness-na-ka, scroll of eroticness, heeled boots of height giving and speed, wooden great-axe.

Notes: Rockphed is mainly a druid, the other classes are nods at ME. As such, Rockphed will mainly use druidic powers, unless he needs to rage at someone or pick someone's locks.

Current Plot Lines: THE NACHO ARMY vs The Cookie Revolution.

------------------------------------
Important NPCs
Victor Ius: A Hobgoblin who works for THE NACHO ARMY

[The Unit]

The Unit is a force of 16 men and women who are mercenary scouts.
Names: Dante, Jasmine, Lily (leader), Ike (Twin 1), Isaac (Twin A), Nathaniel, Horatio, Edwin, Hugh, Roy, Dirk, Erika, Rhea, Kelsey, Saundra, Jaclyn
Race:They are all humans.
Class: Varied.
Alignment: LG to CG to N

Every member of the unit usually wears clothes that can blend into there setting. They also almost always have their hair tied back. They all carry longswords at their hips and bows on their backs. Also each member has their own personal warhorse. These horses are highly trained and intelligent. They are also very powerful fighters.

Back story: The unit was involved in a border conflict in a land a far ways away. They had become separated from the main force, something that they are used to. Unfortunately no matter how hard they tried they couldn't get back in contact with anyone else. They found no friendly forces, but plenty of unfriendlies. And unlike most of their opponents these forces were using magic. They retreated further into the mountains hoping to confuse the forces following them. But somehow they got teleported to a entirely different set of mountains. They tried to gain their bearings and found the town. They are now camped outside of the town.

[Admiral One]

Salner
(pronounced Saw-nur)

Race: Human
Age: 25 yrs
Class: Ranger 15 / psion 10
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Height: 6'
Weight: 130 lbs.
Hair: Red
Eyes: Red
Skin: Dark - tropical
Equipment: Strange criss-crossing bronze armour, obsidian-bladded spear and falcata, bronze shield on his back, plumed helmet, plumed bracers, greaves. Also in possesion of 2 scimitars and 2 bastard swords
Other: Ambidextrous

Backstory: Born and raised on a medium-sized island far to the south. His tribe is a strange group of humans with odd skills, including a language completely different from any other. Being raised in this environment, he has aquired some strange skills, including a fighting style different from most people and a friendlyness with bats that has impacted his abilities. He is a master at echolocation like his nocturnal friends and has excellent hearing. He is also an excellent jumper, but this is from his childhood activities.

Common knowledge: Is head warrior aboard the Dark viper/black adder. Is somehow involved in Erdan's past and owes him a life debt. Is a scribe with skill at painting.

Plot: soon leaving for northlands with the Dark Viper.

[Reptilus]

Conor the Yeti

Race: Arctic Bigfoot
Age: 19 yrs
Class: Yeti
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Height: 10'8"
Weight: 1200 lbs
Hair: White
Eyes: Bright Blue
Skin: White
Equipment: None
Other: Cousin of Bruno the Bigfoot

Backstory: Bruno's Alaskin cousin, Conor is similar trouble to his kinsman, and on the lamb from circus folk and perhaps the law. When his hideout with the more southward bigfoor was compromised, he had to go on the run again, this time with some advice from Bruno: find the ones who aided me, Sam and Max: The Freelance Police.

[DarkSetzer]

Aloysius

Race: Synad
Age: 892
Class: Undisclosed
Alignment and Temperament: Neutral Evil
Height: 5'6”
Weight: 182 lbs.
Hair: Short, Red
Skin: Extremely Pale


Description:
Aloysius stands average hight, a mop of tangled red hair is seemlingly thrown onto his head, his deep emerald eyes seem lost in another world. He is of average build, with extremely pale skin due to his tendancy to avoid sunlight and spend countless hours indoors. Any other physical features are masked by his robes. His left arm is covered in odd crimson tatoos of various exotic designs.

Equipment:
Aloysius wears a deep crimson robe enlaid with black gems and elegant patterns. He wears a pair of deep emerald gloves and emerald boots, all enlaid with the same gems and patterns as his robes. A dagger glimmers from the inside of his sleeve, not very well concealed. He wears a small belt about his waist which appears to be stuffed to the brim, obviously magical the belt is home to a wide variety of items, both mundane and magical. Two small stones orbit his head, one orange and one iridescent. A brilliant obsidian wand enlaid with rubies is strapped to his back.

Backstory:
While Aloysius knows the full extent of his past and often muses about it, he rarely if at all speaks about it,opting to keep his life a secret. What little he does reveal describes a life of hardship and torment.

Common Knowledge:
The only knowledge of himself that Aloysiuswould dare let anyone know is his mastery of the arcane arts.

__________________________

Kethemar

Race: Raptoran
Age: 34
Class: Skypledged
Alignment and Temperament: True Neutral
Height: 6'5"
Weight: 147 lbs.
Hair: None, Dull grey crown feathers
Skin: Tan


Description:
Kethemar stands well over six feet tall, most of which is comprised of his legs, seemingly out of proportion with the rest of his body. He has two, large dull grey wings, each feather painted green at the tip. A similar set of feathers rest atop his head. He wears a light, almost skin tight, tunic, which contains many many pockets. His feet are more akin to birds talons than human feet.

Equipment:
Kethemar carries a large footbow, with many odd carvings etched into it, the bow seems to cackle and let off electricity with every move Kethemar makes. A thing, eloquent rapier is attached to his right hip.His light leather armor contains many pockets, each of which holds a variety of mundand and magical items.

Backstory:
Kethemar abandoned his family, not that there was much left aside for distant relatives who cared not for him, and hometown on the cliffs of the ocean in order to travel the world and preach natures power and maintaining the balance. Other than that Kethemar rarely speaks of his early days.

Common Knowledge:
Kethemar is extremely skilled at the use of his bow. He also has the ability to manipulate the winds at will.

_______________________

Randall

A lighthearted and aloof swordsman who travels the land weilding his two scimitars. He dresses in a light blue tunic and carries little more than his swords and that needed to get by. He has light blond hair, and deep blue eyes.

[Rebonack]

Regiji

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Name: Regiji
Race: The Flock (appears to be human)
Class: He's for smashing big, nasty things when they pop up. But he's currently being utilized as a Secondary Off-plane Scout as a character building exercise.
Alignment and Disposition: Apparently Lawful Neutral. Regiji is required to carry out his mission parameters as best he can, but that won't stop him from complaining about them. He tends to be slightly scattered in his interpersonal dealings, but then most would if they had a voice in their head giving them pointers. Regiji can be somewhat jumpy at times, as his last impromptu excursion wasn't exactly a relaxing experience.
Age: Clichéd really, really old. He doesn't seem too much the wiser for it though, as he was locked in stasis most of the time.
Height: One point eight eight meters. (Six feet two inches)
Mass: Looks to be about 109 kilograms (one hundred forty pounds), though the actually figure is about twice that.
Hair: Short, straight, and darkish brown.
Eyes: Hazel

Equipment: Regiji is equipped with a Mk-VI Fimbrii-weave body suit for added protect which is hidden under his 'adventuring gear'. He is clad in a pair of loose tan breeches and a lightish blue tunic. A pair of worn leather boots are buckled around his feet and a pair of leather bracers strapped to his forearms. And then there's the backpack, which is entirely mundane and contains a number of odds and ins that aren't particularly useful in combat.

Armaments: Regiji wields no weapons in combat. At least not normally.
Armor: The aforementioned Fimbrii-weave, though his body is well fortified in its own right.

Background: Regiji's background mainly involves getting thrust into reality-threatening situations, which in all likelihood is commonplace in a realm like The Town. It has left him rather jumpy.

Flashy Description: The unremarkable looking human appears to be in his mid-twenties, suspended on nothing about two meters above the ground. This situation, mind you, don't last for long. After picking himself up and brushing off his lightish blue tunic he shakes his fist at the heavens. "Just once! Just once could I get shifted in standing on solid ground?"

Common Knowledge: From his mannerisms, it's pretty apparent Regiji isn't from around here.

Interesting Notes: Regiji is, oddly enough, rather hostile to magic. Not in the sense that he harbors a burning hatred of it, but because it works erratically on him. A spell targeted on him might do nothing, do little, or simply explode in a shower of random arcane energy. He also appears to be distorted or absent when viewed via Scry spells or even True Sight.

This 'aura of banality' affects anything supernatural whether based on magic or psionics. It is normally restricted to Regiji, though he can pass it on to another by touching them. The aura takes several seconds to spread and dissipates almost immediately after contact is lost.

Flashy Description for MechaRegiji: The creature is covered in metallic plating, barding perhaps, with a dull silver sheen to it. Odd angular marking are scrawled across the armor's surface. Where its hide is visable, if it's hide at all, one can make out a charcoal-grey, fibrous material with a slight purple tinge.

A singled four fingered, taloned hand, like that of a monstrous eagle, digs into the ground in front of the creature as it stretches itself. It appears to be generally humanoid in shape, though its limbs seem disproportionately long compared to its body. Interestingly enough, the same symbol shared by the crate hums softly on the creature's chest. The head is reminiscently draconic, though not of any dragon to have ever graced the town. Its snout is long and thin, appearing almost beak-like in front of the creature's smoldering emerald eyes. A pair of roughly triangular, metallic crests extend back from the top of the creature's head, ostensible to protect its lithe neck.

It takes a step forward on feet not too dissimilar from the hands, standing in a hunched positing that none the less measures about twelve feet at the shoulders. A pair of hooked appendages extending from the creature's shoulders begins to reach out and back, individual ribs stretching into place as a golden, orange hued membrane shimmers into view between then, forming a massive pair of draconic wings. The tail, which appeared somewhat stiff at first, begins to telescope outward, the flattened, blade-like metalic plating giving way to flexible hide between and terminating in a spearhead tip. A rather unfriendly looking twenty four foot long appendage to be quite honest.

Maph'tey

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Names: Maph'tey, Ruin, and Refuge
Races: Human, sand specter, and sand specter, respectively
Class: Support, Blaster, Tank
Alignment and Disposition: Neutral Good, Chaotic Evil, and Lawful Good.
Maph'tey tends to be laid back in his dealings with others. The fact that he was raised by a minion sacrificing wizard and had regular dealings with cut-throat pirates has left him with a pretty strong outlook the mistreatment of others. He's very curious and intelligent and in search of Adventure. Maph'tey finds his companions dangerously random and intolerably stuffy, respectively. Ruin is impulsive and violent, more than likely to burn you to a crisp after exchanging lewd 'pleasantries'. He's arrogant too. Like, really. Refuge is stoic and patient, always willing to lend a hand where he feels his help required.
Age: Time is sort of wonky in Dead Space. Let's say 'Yes' for his age.
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 110 lbs
Hair: Shortish and sandy brown.
Eyes: Brilliant green. Like, creepily so.

Flashy Description: A single white rune suddenly shimmers into existence a few inches above the ground and begins to lazily rotate in a wide circle. What this rune is rotating isn't really apparent at the moment.

But rotate it does in a lazy arc, tracing out a circle roughly six feet across. Halfway across a second rune appears. A quarter rotation and two more. This trend continues until a full ring of the white runes are busy rotating around, well, nothing really.

Then the lot of them surge upward, tracing a brilliant cylindrical sheet of white luminescence in their wake. At a height of about eight feet the hoop of glowing runes drops back to the ground.

They're still orbiting, but now something rather than nothing.

That something happens to be a man. He's in casual attire. Tan slacks and black shoes. A nice charcoal grey sweat-shirt with the collar folded down. He appears to be somewhere in his mid-twenties from the looks of him. His hair is thick and sandy brow, eyes brilliant green. A pretty normal looking fellow to be sure.

Except the wings.

The one on the left is brilliant in color, like molten bronze. The one on the right is deep blue like the heart of a glacier. They look like they should be the feathery sort but instead they have the texture one would expect of the respective substances.

The tail is odd as well. Long and lithe and looking like a fair mix between the imposable composition of both wings. The whole thing is constantly shifting as icy blue and fiery orange flow about randomly.

He glances about in an attempt to get his bearings but doesn't seem to get very far in the endeavor.

Common Knowledge: Those wings of his are actually two other people. Weird. He's also very nervous around fish.

Interesting Notes: Maph'tey's 'magic' isn't actually magic in the normal sense of the word. Instead of drawing power from underlying magical energies in the universe his powers draw off of time. An anti-magic field weakens his slightly, but it doesn't stop him.

Nicholas Kawsh

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Nicholas Kawsh is your average northern. Sort of. He's a bit above average human height, though he's unusually lanky as opposed to well built. Certainly not an amazingly strong fellow, though he makes up for it with agility not betrayed by his awkward proportions.

Like all northerners he's fair skinned and light haired with steely blue eyes.

He's dressed to travel, clad in an unnaturally light chain shirt that's usually hidden below his earth-tone cloak and tunic. Rough leather boots and bracers round out the look.

His 'bow' if it can even be called that, is an odd magical weapon composed of a pair of silver sabers that fuse together at the pommels and manifest arrows and bowstring when drawn.

Kalos

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Flashy Description: The door to Trog's opens.

It doesn't slam open. It doesn't go flying off its hinges.

It just opens.

It wasn't opened by incredible arcane or psionic power.

Rather, just a simple hand pushing open.

The owner of the hand is man. Twenties probably. The sort of age one expects of those who go adventuring or are sent to die for their country/citystate/god. His hair is brown, eyes a steely blue. Complexion is somewhere between middle brown and fair. His face is... interesting. He seems both serious and light. Marred with grief and yet joyous. Trodden down but not broken. Gentle but still capable of dealing justice.

The man frowns at the condition of the tavern. Apparently things haven't changed much since he first came here as a nameless NPC.

He is clad in a suit of chain mail, a white robe and tunic draped over it with a red 'T' shaped symbol upon it. On his left shoulder is a bronze pauldron that looks like it has taken more than its fair share of beating over the years. Flexible leather gloves fixed with metal strips while his feet are firmly shod in well made boots.

On his back is a rather unassuming pack. No doubt a handy haver sack from the look of it. Sticking out of the pack behind his right shoulder is what appears to be the hilt of a great sword, though in truth it's a rather interesting spear with its shaft collapses for easy transport. And around his waist rests a sword belt with a elegant sickle sword fixed in its scabbard.

And around his neck, dangling over his chest is a rough wooden dowel with scarlet thread tied to it.

He smiles upon noticing who he was looking for, his left upper canine becoming all the more obvious when he does. The saber-like tooth really doesn't look like it should be there.

As he steps inside the really odd thing about him becomes evident.

The tail.

It looks bony, its hide a deep purple, almost black. And though bony in appearance the limb is quite thick, its base probably as big around as the man's thigh. Long, too. Longer than he is tall in fact. At the tip of the tail is a spade, a spear-like tip that would probably be rather deadly if the man knows how to use it.

Ayin Ayin Armored Adventurin' Ayin

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Flashy Description: She's the sort one probably wouldn't look twice at. Just another face in the crowd. By no means homely face, but certainly not breath-taking either. Comely perhaps? Perhaps...

The woman has a distinct Mediterranean look to her, perhaps slightly more eastern that Roman. Dark eyes, dark hair, olive skin tone. Clad in a well crafted linen robe with her feet shod in simple sandals. Just another face in the crowd. Just another person one might pass and pay no heed to.

Though there is... something odd. A slight iridescence. A shimmer. Like the metallic green plumage of a humming bird or the glittering purple of a beetles carapace. Almost as though all the colors that adorn her were the result of diffraction of the light rather than reflection.

Oh well.

It probably isn't important.

Corrupted

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A Corrupted creature is always a twisted form of some terrestrial being. Though they will without fail be found with mottled dark purple and maroon hide, toothsome jaws, bloated bellies, lolling forked tongues, and a shimmering bloodstone set in their forehead, the precise shape of their body varies from individual to individual. Without exception they are obviously tainted with evil and wracked with pain.

Creating a Corrupted Creature
"Corrupted" is an acquired template that can be added to any living, corporeal non-outsider with an intelligence score of 4 of higher.

Size and Type
If the base creature has two or fewer hit dice its size changes to Tiny. Type changes to Outsider [Native, Evil, Chaotic]. Any other sub-types are lost.

Hit Dice
Hit dice are replaced with an equal number of Outsider hit dice as per the process outlined in 'Corruption as an Affliction'. Recalculate hit points, saves, and skill points.

Speed
Base speed and new speed types are assigned based on the creature's new form.
Amorphous: -10 Base Speed.
Ape: Base Speed Unchanged
Humanoid: Base Speed Unchanged
Serpent: -10 Base speed. Swim and Burrow at twice base speed
Spider: Climb at Base speed
Wolf: +10 Base speed.
Wyvern: Fly at twice base speed (Average)

Armor Class
Natural armor bonus is equal to the creatures Outsider hit dice.

Attacks
A Corrupted creature looses any natural weapons it had and gains new natural weapons as follows.

Amorphous: Three bite attacks
Ape: One bite attack and two claw attacks
Humanoid: One bite attack and two claw attacks
Serpent: One bite attack. Deals constrict damage on successful grapple checks (as bite)
Spider: One bite attack and two claw attacks
Wolf: One bite attack and two claw attacks
Wyvern: One bite attack and two talon attacks

Damage is one size above for natural weapons of the creature's size.

Special Qualities

Immunity to electricity and poison. Resistance to cold, fire, and acid 10. Telepathy.

Crush the Will (Ex): The will of being can not be extended beyond the body of a being within a distance of ten feet of the Corrupted creature. Treat the Corrupted creature as inside an anti-magic field and possessing magic immunity with the following exceptions.

Restoration will postpone further corruption for one day. Heal will lessen the pain the creature is in and postpone further corruption for one day. Greater Restoration will lessen the pain the creature is in and postpone further corruption indefinitely. It isn't unusual for a Corrupted creature to become Friendly toward any who relieve it. However, the proper ritual must be carried out for any of these spells to be successful.

Regeneration (Ex): Corrupted creatures gain regeneration equal to their hit dice. Corrupted creatures take non-lethal damage from all forms of attack Severed limbs will grow back in one minute. If the severed limb is applied to the stump it will reattach immediately.

Special Attacks
Corrupted creatures of any form possess one the following special attacks.

Sundering Bite (Ex): The bite attacks of a Corrupted creature overcome any form of damage reduction.

Sheering Bite (Ex): A number of times per day equal to their Con modifier a Corrupted Creature may resolve its bite attack as a melee touch attack.

Improved Grapple (Ex): If a Corrupted creature hits with a bite attack it may attempt to initiate a grapple as a free action without provoking an attack of opportunity.

Swallow Whole (Ex): A Corrupted creature may attempt to 'pin' and opponent it has grappled with its mouth, thus swallowing it whole. A swallowed opponent takes no damage while swallowed and may attempt to cut their way out with a light slashing or piercing weapon by dealing 1/8 the Corrupted creature's max hit points to its digestive tract, AC 10 plus natural armor bonus minus four. The Corrupted creature's regeneration will then close the hole. Other swallowed creatures must cut their own way out.

Abyssal Rift (Ex): A rift to the abyss exists inside a Corrupted creature's gut. Those swallowed whole must succeed on a Ref save each round (DC 10+1/2 the Corrupted creature's HD + Con modifier) or be drawn into the abyss. The rift is one way, so the swallowed creature must find its own way out.

Implosion (Ex): If a Corrupted creature takes twice as much non-lethal damage as it has hit points its Rift will react violently, sucking the creature itself to the abyss. Anyone within twenty feet of the rift must succeed on a Reflex save (DC 10+1/2 the Corrupted creature's Outsider HD + Con modifier) or be pulled in as well.

Planeshift (Ex): A Corrupted creature may travel to the point on another plane where other Corrupted creatures have Imploded if they find the point where the Imploded creature's rift ends in the abyss. Such residual rifts are often the source of plagues of Corrupted creatures, so it is vital to seal these rifts with Protection from Evil or a similar spell.

Corrupting Bite (Ex): Wounds inflicted by Corrupted creatures have a chance of passing on the corruption. The wounded creature must succeed on a Fortitude save (DC for bite 10+1/2 the Corrupted creature's Outsider HD plus Con modifier. For other sources of damage, such as claw attacks, the DC is only 10+1/2 the Corrupted creature's Outsider HD) or begin a terrible transformation. See 'Corruption as an Affliction'.

Special Attacks
Two of the following special attacks can be added to the Corrupted creature at random or at the GM's discretion. One must be chosen from the 'Anatomy' list while the other must be chosen from the 'Special' list.

Anatomy
Long Limb (Ex): The reach of one type of the creature's natural weapon doubles.
Extra Limbs (Ex): The creature gains two more natural weapons.
Trip (Ex): On a successful claw attack the creature may attempt to trip the target as a free action. The opponent doesn't get to make their own trip attempt should this fail.
Pounce (Ex): The creature may make a full attack on a charge.
Keen Weapons (Ex): The creature's natural weapons have a base threat range of 19-20.
Rend (Ex): If the creature hits with both claw attacks it may deal an addition amount of damage equal to a claw attack with a 1.5 Str bonus.
Hulking (Ex): The creature's size category increases by one step.

Special
Project Void (Ex): As a standard action the creature may spit a projection of its rift as a ranged touch attack with a range increment of 60 feet. Matter touched is pulled into the abyss. 1d6 damage per Outsider HD of the creature.
Abyssal Tentacles (Ex): As a standard action the creature may spit a projection of its rift onto a surface, causing fleshy tentacles to spring forth. The tentacles are considered Huge sized and use the Corrupted creature's BAB and Str score. The tentacles deal 1d8+1.5 Str modifier bludgeoning and piercing damage to anything they grapple. The tentacles remain for one round per Outsider HD the Corrupted creature has. The tentacles can be severed by dealing damage to them. These tentacles have 2 hit points per Outsider HD the Corrupted creature has.
Vorpal Bite (Ex): The creature may bite off an opponent's head on a confirmed critical.
Abyssal Web (Ex): The creature may, as a standard action, throw a web as a ranged touch attack with a range increment of twenty feet. A target hit with the web becomes entangled and must succeed on a Will save (DC 10+1/2 the Corrupted creature's Outsider HD + Con modifier) each round to avoid becoming dazed for one round. The web lasts for a number of rounds equal to the Corrupted creature's Outsider HD.
Explosive Spines (Ex): The creature may, as a standard action, pull off and throw one of the spines jutting out of its body. This weapon is thrown with a range increment of twenty feet. Upon impact with a solid surface it will explode in a fifteen foot dome. 1d6 piercing damage per Outsider HD of the Corrupted creature. Reflex half (DC 10+1/2 Corrupted creature's Outsider HD + Con modifier.)
Caustic Blood (Ex): Whenever the creature takes damage from a slashing or piercing weapon it's blood is released in a five foot cone. All creatures caught within it take 1d6 damage per two Outsider HD the Corrupted creature has, Reflex half (DC 10+1/2 Corrupted Creature's Outsider HD + Con modifier).
Abyssal Fog (Ex): As a standard action the creature may exhale a rolling bank of black fog covering two thousand cubic feet per Outsider HD. Objects five feet away have concealment while those farther than five feet have total concealment. Movement though the fog is limited to five feet per round. Melee attacks take a -2 penalty while use of ranged weapons is impossible, except for magic rays and the like. Anything caught in the fog takes 1 damage per round per Outsider HD the Corrupted Creature has. The cloud lasts for one round per Outsider HD the Corrupted creature has. The user is unaffected by the fog's negative effects.

Abilities
+1 to Str and Con for each Outsider HD the Corrupted creature has. +1 to Dex for every two Outsider HD the Corrupted creature has.

Corruption as an Affliction
When a creature contracts Corruption they will begin to slowly transform into a Corrupted creature themselves. One day after first contracting Corruption the base creature must succeed on a Fortitude save (same DC as initial infection) or their current highest class level or HD will be replaced with an Outsider HD. This process will continue unless interrupted until all of the base creature's levels have been replaced.

Corrupted creatures are subject to excruciating pain due to the rift inside them. This pain can be alleviated by eating. The alleviation is longest if living creatures which lack Outsider HD are consumed. Once a Corrupted creature has Outsider HD it must make a Will save at the beginning of each day (DC 10+1/2 their Outsider HD) to suppress the pain. If they fail this save then they must make a new save (same DC) every hour as long as they are in the presence of a tasty mortal. If they fail this second save then they will become so overcome by the pain and hunger that they must attempt to kill and devour the mortal. Every time a mortal is consumed by a Corrupted creature the base DC of this Will save increases by one.

Custom element system.

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I don't use the standard element setup. Mainly because having everything diametrically opposed is boring and because a sizable portion of the paraelements are redundant. Seriously, smoke, dust, and ash? How uninventive.

Positive and negative are diametrically opposed, though the other four interact as such: Fire>Air>Earth>Water>Fire. Some element types are about the same when they're conjured or evoked, while others can be quite different.

Fire: Fire is pretty self-explanatory. It burns stuff. Whether conjured or evoked it's pretty much the same. Representative of charisma.
Earth: Hard and unyielding. Earth takes the form of Force when it's evoked. Representative of constitution.
Air: Light and supremely adaptable. Air takes the form of Sonic when it's evoked. Representative of intelligence.
Water: Able to flow though or around any impasse. Water takes the form of Erosion energy when its evoked. Basically looks like a transparent, watery projectile flecked with blue. Representative of dexterity.
Positive: Upholds the order of living systems. When conjured it can heal living creatures and harm undead. Evoked as Positive Surge, able to overload and destroy living things. Representative of wisdom.
Negative: Degrades the order of living systems. When conjured it can heal undead creatures and harm the living. Evoked as Negative Surge, able to overload and destroy living things. Representative of strength.

Ice (Air+Water): Ice is nice. Conjured as chucks of frozen water and evoked as Cold energy.
Ooze (Earth+Water): A rather variable paraelement depending on the precise mix of elements. Always evoked as Acid, though it can be conjured as anything from mud to acid.
Steam (Fire+Water): From really hot water vapor to really cold water vapor. Usually conjured as fog. Evoked as a billowing white projectile of Scald energy.
Magma (Earth+Fire): Molten rock. As with fire the conjuration and evocation are pretty much the same.
Explosive (Air+Fire): This should be pretty clear. Stuff explodes. Both conjuration and evocation of Explosive energy is about the same.
Dust (Air+Earth): Irritating particulate matter floating around. Often conjured as thick sand storms and other similar impediments. Evoked as Scour energy, appears as a howling wind with nasty pointy bits suspended in it.

Lightning (Positive+Air): It's a bolt of lightning. Pretty self explanatory.
Radiance (Positive+Fire): Hot white light. Evoked as Radiance and conjured as light. You just ignore that Evocation sub-school on Daylight.
Prismatic (Positive+Water): Cool colored light of all hues. Evoked as Prismatic energy, which can often have rather unexpected effects. Conjured as harmless pretty lights.
Crystal (Positive+Earth): Another variable paraelement, ranging from metals to massive crystals. The conjured and evoked forms of Crystal are about the same.

Vacuum (Negative+Air): An area evacuated of air, void attacks deal Void (Decompression) damage as objects explode from the inside and fluids boil. About the same whether evoked or conjured. Void attacks appear as hollow muted grayish distortions of the air.
Darkness (Negative+Fire): The antithesis of light of any kind. Evoked as Shadow and conjured as magical darkness.
Salt (Negative+Water): It may sound silly, but it's quite useful. Conjured as boring ionic compounds and evoked as Desiccate, a white globular projectile. Damages stuff by sucking water out of it.
Rust (Negative+Earth): Metal turning into useless powdery oxidized stuff. Conjured as rust, which isn't terribly useful. Evoked as Oxidation, a dull red projectile capable of eating through metals like no other. Not that useful against other things.

Annihilation (Negative+Positive): Represents the utter disjunction of any function, whether living, inanimate, or unliving. While it's possible to conjure this substance, it will destroy itself instantly. So that isn't so useful. Appears as a crackling mixture of arcing white and black Annihilation energy. When it hurts it hurts a whole lot. When it doesn't hurt it doesn't hurt much at all.

And now for you people who like the Crunch.

Fire: 1d6+1 Fire damage. Ref half.
Earth: 1d6-1 Force damage. Ref half.
Air: 1d6-1 Sonic damage. Ref half. Ignores hardness.
Water: 1d6 Erosion damage. Ref half. 1d8+1 vs [FIRE] creatures.
Positive: Heals 1d6 damage. Will half.
Negative: 1d6 Negative damage. Fort half.

Ice (Air+Water): 1d6+1 Cold damage. Fort half.
Ooze (Earth+Water): 1d6-1 Acid damage. Ref half. Ignores hardness.
Steam (Fire+Water): 1d6+1 Scalding damage. Ref half
Magma (Earth+Fire): 1d6 Lava damage. Ref half. Half damage next round.
Explosive (Air+Fire): 1d6 Explosive damage. Ref half. Additional 1d6 per 5 feet thrown on a failed Ref save.
Dust (Air+Earth): 1d6 Scouring damage. Ref half. -2 to hit on a failed save.

Lightning (Positive+Air): 1d6 Electric damage. Ref half. +2 save and penetration.
Radiance (Positive+Fire): 1d6 Light damage. Ref half. 1d8+1 vs undead.
Prismatic (Positive+Water): 1d6+1 Prismatic damage. Ref half.
Crystal (Positive+Earth): 1d6 Crystal damage. Ref half. No resistance.

Vacuum (Negative+Air): 1d6-1 Decompression damage. Fort half. Destroys force effects.
Darkness (Negative+Fire): 1d6+1 Shadow damage. Fort half.
Salt (Negative+Water): 1d6 Desiccation damage. Fort half. 1d8+1 vs [WATER] and plants
Rust (Negative+Earth): 1d4-1 Oxidation damage. Fort half. Splash on objects. 1d8+1 vs metallic creatures and objects. Ignores hardness of metals.

Annihilation (Negative+Positive): 2d6 Annihilation damage. Fort one eighth.

Ezekiel (Zeek, Zee) also known as 'Avatar'
Death-count so far: 21

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Hey, I've been using her pretty consistently, so she deserves a bio by now, doesn't she? I certainly think so; otherwise I wouldn't be using my precious time to write this up.

Now then, on to the basics. Let's start with names. Avatar isn't Avatar's actual name. Her actual name is... actually comprehensible now! Ezekiel Hannah Bath-Manoah. Or 'Zeek' for short.

Race: Apparently human. Apparently because she seems to be able to change that on a whim by modifying herself on the bio-molecular level to splice in traits of pretty much any living thing that she's ever seen. It turns out that she has a fey bloodline that has recently asserted itself pretty strongly as well.

Gender: Female. Whoops, plot twist! What happened here? Avatar popped up in Town male largely do in part to the simple fact that she had generally used male characters in ye olde RP settings. Just one of those random quirks that carried over to her Dream. But now that she's actually here in Town and feeling things for the first time being a guy was just to weird for her. At first she had considered remaining as was to avoid shocking anyone after months of friendship, but the sheer strangness factor made that impossible.

Helps explain why Avatar never ogled anyone's chest, doesn't it?

Age: Seems to be in her mid-ish twenties. But since she can modify her form that probably isn't a very good clue.

Alignment: Apparently neutral good. She's generally cheery, care-free, and friendly, more than happy to lend a hand where she can. She also seems to be almost oblivious to impending personal harm. There's probably a good reason for that. As a matter of fact there is a good reason for that.

Class: Since Avatar has truly begun to be in Town her old NPC class levels have been replaced with class levels. Avatar has five gestalt class levels consisting of four monk, three 'sorcerer', and three in a fey-based template. Of course, since Rebo scales all of his characters that doesn't matter so much.

Avatar is usually a little weaker than whoever happens to be trying to kill her at the moment if she's altered her form. In her strictly human form she could probably be defeated by a house cat. Not that that's saying much. House cats are deadly.

Appearance: This is one aspect of Avatar that really stands out.

Mess of sandy brown hair on her head with a few tan oak leaves sticking out, a sprig with an acorn on it among them. Somewhat ruddy complexion. Feral amber eyes fleck with a metallic gold sparkle. Always clothed in the exact same outfit consisting of an olive green fleece, a brown undershirt, and tan slacks. She's a bit on the tall side with a trim, athletic build that has only be enhanced by her fey heritage asserting itself. Her ears have gotten a bit pointy thanks to the fey blood, not on elf level though. They happen to be a bit fuzzy on the back and reminiscently wolf-like. Her tongue is far longer than it should be and somewhat snake-like, though unforked. The end of it is even dark purple! Her back is almost completely grown over by cream white fur like feathers (feathery fur?) and a pair of small wings are usually concealed under her shirt. They aren't large enough to fly with, though, but they can be used as another pair of arms in a pinch due to the two taloned fingers and thumb on the 'hand' portion of each of them. To support these limbs her sternum is keeled and heavily muscled, which defines her chest quite well.

She also happens to be about five percent more real than everything else. Her colors are slightly more vibrant, her lines slightly sharper, and her voice ever so dream-like. Most people sense that there's something odd about her, but it's hard to place a finger on it.

And then she alters her form and suddenly she really stands out.

Favored Chimeric form

This shape is the result of Zee using her life-shaping abilities on herself.

Said form looks like some kind of celestial creature, it's body covered with lightly colored fur sans the serpent-like purple scales that overlap down the neck to the tail.

Six wings extend from its back, somewhere between feathered and fuzzy. Somewhat hard to tell. They're the same cream color as the rest of the fur, though along the edges one will find purple iridescence akin to the scales.

Amethyst tinted dorsal plates can be found along the back and the tail tipped in long purple spikes. And oddly enough it has longer hair where one would expect a human's to be, noticeable darker than the rest. Ears are long and pointed, mobile like pretty much every mammal that isn't a primate. And in the same fashion the creature's face looks like some medium between draconic and canine.

The general look is rounded out with a generally humanoid build and those nifty three-toed feet one normally finds on therapod.

If you want something to grant a quick mental picture This is this form's inspiration as far as appearance goes.

Animal Form

A chimeric mix of wolf, eagle, snake, a little human, and... tan oak. Zee involuntarily assumes this form during the full moon as her fey blood has hijacked her lycanthropy. She's quadrupedal with a great deal of resemblance to her favored chimeric form, though only one pair of wings is present and the dorsal plates and tail spikes are noticeably absent. She has oak leaves throughout her feathery fur, especially along the flight surfaces of her wings. Around her head is a crown of twisted oak branches with a few leaves and acorns adorning it.

Background: Last thing Avatar remembers she was taking a walk home from the mall (since she needed the exercise) when she was hit by a car that blew a red light. Next thing she knew she fell through a rift into Trog's Tavern while seated on top of a plaid E-Z Boy recliner.

Between this and all the other oddities she's run into thus far she has concluded that she's presently stuck in a coma-dream.

Since that time her body back in her home realm has expired and her soul was shunted off into the dream body here in Town rather than her proper place of rest at her own request. She's still technically a Dream loosed on the Waking World, but she just isn't quite as dream-like as before.

Abilities and Stuff:

Bio-molecular Manipulation (Su): As mentioned already Avatar is able to modify herself at the bio-mechanical level. She can do the same thing to anything else that happens to be alive. This can manifest in a myriad of ways, though it's always possible to shrug off a hostile attempt at modifying one's anatomy with enough fortitude.

The most she can do at a distance are a number of minor effects that can disorient or immobilize and opponent. Do cause more expansive changes (or harm) he needs to make physical contact. So much as a touch will work.

Bio-Scan (Ex): Avatar can gain a complete understanding of the bio-mechanical interactions and architecture of a living creature by simply concentrating on it while it's in her sight.

Dreaming (Ex): Avatar is able to alter reality to a limited degree around herself due to the fact that she's basically a living Dream. Like all lucid dreams the sub-conscious can be stubborn at times and her modifications may refuse to work. For example, she granted herself the bio-molecular abilities because she thought they would be neat. But since then she has been unable to grant herself any other powers. The only consistent use of this ability seems to be a knack for pulling deli sandwiches out of thin air. More spectacular interventions are less likely to work. Very less likely.

Also of importance is the fact that because she is a Dream she can't really die per se. In the case that she is killed Avatar simply discoporeates and reforms somewhere else, usually twelve to twenty four hours later.

White-fire (Su): Technically the result of tinkering with the elemental energy collection organs of dragons, Avatar uses meta-elemental attacks often enough to take note of it. Meta-element is a semi-stable paraelement consisting of all six forms of elemental energy. It appears as shimmering, opalescent white flame that will stick to and steadily eat through most anything it comes in contact with. It isn't any stronger than 'normal' magical fire, though its ability to cause significant harm to anything resistant to elemental attacks and extremely heavy damage to creatures immune to certain elements renders it extremely dangerous against more fantastic foes.

Combined with the ability to blast cleanly through force, ignore the hardness of any material, and strike incorporeal creatures without fail it is both versatile and deadly.

Sorceress Stuff: Avatar is a sorceress, and as such has a variety of spells that she's able to use. She doesn't know all of them, at least not yet, but she'll slowly figure them out as the opportunity arises. Below is a list of her spells know, but it's more for my reference than anything else.

Spoiler

Show

0th: Meta-Bolt, Meta-Pulse, Meta-Channel, Meta-Flare, Prestidigitation, Daze, Ghost Sound, Dancing Lights, Message, Cure Minor Wounds

1st: Cause Fear, Charm, Hypnotism, Sleep, Bark Armor, Chameleon, Feather Fall, Magic Fang, Obscuring Mist

2nd: Soften Earth, Tree Meld, Spider Climb, Cloud Mind, Mirror Image, Hideous Laughter

Due to Zee's Fey bloodline her enchantments lack creature type limitations and hit dice limits and are, furthermore, more difficult to resist. Cause Fear is also a enchantment rather than a necromantic spell. Because the people who made the spell schools are stupid.

[Arkarus]

[hr]
Name: Arkarus
Race: Retriever
Class: Wizard 100/Fighter 100/Arachnomancer 50
Alignment: CN
Age: Around 500
Description: Arkarus is, in his natural form, a retreiver like any other except for the fact that he has eight eyes and wears armor made from the scales of a silver dragon. As he can also shapeshipt, he has a humanoid form with a height of about 6'9", dark blue eyes, jet black hair, and has fingers that look slightly longer than they should be and end in claws that curve downwards.

Backstory:
Arkarus was just a normal Retriever in the Retriever Legion of Nessus (RLN), when he discovered that he was, in fact, a mutant of unknown... something and could Polymorph at will. He decided to utilize this power to escape the RLN. He first morphed into an Arrowhawk and landed on the uneven cieling far above, then became a mole and dug his way to the River Styx, where he became a White Great Wyrm and swam/flew to the border of Town. At this point he turned into the humanoid form described above and entered Town.

Common knowledge:
Arkarus is well known for his creepy ability to mentally communicate with anyone; this is the result of Rary's Telepathic Bond combined with Permanency. He also has the little known ability to manipulate objects telekinetically (Mage Hand + Permanency). Well, I guess that's not so common.

Ongoing storyline:
Nothin' yet... just kinda wandering the Town.
[hr]

[Miatog]

Age: Unknown
Height: 6’0"
Weight: Unknown
Hair: blond
Eyes: Black

Appearance: Enigma looks like a void, a black so dark that it’s like looking at the very heart of nothingness. Well he did. Now he has a ‘skin’ and has a silver shine to him. No features were given to him with this skin but now to look past the silver shine will only look like black, nothing close to the heart of nothingness.

History: Enigma came into ‘existence’ on 12-18-06. His only memory before that is the same five seconds from three different people. First he sees two men, one casting a spell and the other screaming in pain. In this memory he thinks "Glad to see the hubby having fun."

Then he shifts to the man screaming. The only thought going through his head is "I must stop him, no matter the coast!" Again it shifts to the man casting the spell; here he sees that first person is a woman. Here he thinks "I’m going to win, nothing can stop me now!"

Enigma has found that he if an item is small enough, it will ‘fall’ into him. The item can be seen falling into his body till it reaches the center where it will start to ‘shrink’ into nothing. Enigma can then make that exact duplicate of that item. The limitations of this item forming are two fold.

First he can only make something that has fallen into him. Secondly as he makes items, he ‘drains’ himself. He can only make an equal amount of mass as he has ‘consumed’.

It was suggested to Enigma that he might be the fusion of the three people from his memory via the unknown spell being cast.

After that Enigma wondered the streets and found his way to the OmniShop where he was given some ‘skin’ to cover him so now items won’t fall into him. He has also been given a job by Gent to watch over the OmniShop Inn.

During the conversation Gent described Enigma as a human shaped portal hole, giving Enigma another lead to try.

Later, Gent gave him another blob of ectoplasm. This time it allowed him to look like a real person.

Enigma visited Trog’s after finding nothing useful in his search. While there he talked with Regiji’s probe and thinks that he might be a walking event horizon or the spirit of a star. Shortly after, he got into a fight and found out that he can be hurt and when he is he feels empty and weak. In addition to this, he gets smaller as he gets hurt more. He can be fixed up to normal by having things put into him. He became the trash can of the night and grew past his normal size.

Things that can be made: A couple of sticks, a number of rocks, a plate, fork, knife, spoon, some mugs and random trash.

Current Leads: ‘Fake’ person: A fusion of the three people via the spell being cast. Research has lead to him removing this idea.
Living portable hole: He is a living thinking portable hole. Research has lead to him removing this idea.
Moving Event: He might be an event horizon that’s walking around.
Star Spirit: He might be the spirit of a star that became an event horizon.

[Black Hand]

Hello, there. I'd like to introduce a character of mine who has recently left the dungeons of the philosophers stone, and has wandered back to down a little bored and looking for something different.

This Spry looking gnome, seems to be wearing clothes that haven't been changed in awhile and are well worn. Spear strapped to his back, along with a small backpack. He chews the stub of a burning cigar, in which he glances in annoyance because that means he'll have to get a new one soon.

His name is Essles, and his most recent history (and departure from the dungeon is here: The exodus of Essles, posted below his character info is his basic history.

*Essles



History: Essles was born and raised in a small close knit community of Gnomes that had lived in well furbished burrows beneath the roots of several large trees in a hilly forest. From birth he had always went against the grain of more than a few members in the small community and was usually the first questioned whenever any schenanagans were being investigated. Like most gnomes he employed fey magicks that were more or less harmless, but Essles had found a way to twist the magics into having a more "entertaining" effect.

Enough was enough, and his father had decided that sending him off into military training to make something of himself, and he was sent off to live with the Dwarves that lived a mile or so beneath their root town. He didn't quite fit well with the regimented lifestyle but did stick it out long enough to find ways to channel his magicks through armor. He also developed a particular taste in the smoke-weeds and Fungi that the Dwarves of Ekkirumbulk so delighted in.

He decided to take his leave and sneak back up the tunnels to his own community after an arguement with his training officer left the poor fellow beardless...and eyebrowless...well hairless to be factual. When he arrived back to his community still smelling of singed hair, it was discovered that it had been recently sacked by raiders, and Essles brought it upon himself to follow the trail. Which lead to the coast. A raiding party of lanky pale men from the north had captured much of his village and had loaded them onto ships, and had sailed off. One ship remained behind, slow to load on the non-living freight of the raid, and Essles brought it upon himself to sneak on...which in the end was a dumb Idea as he was soon discovered as the ships mage had a rat for a familiar and he was quickly ratted out.

So on the seas he was, in the brig and still hoping that he may be taken to where the others of his commuinity was off to. He soon discovered that wasn't the case, this ship was going back to the homeland while the shipfull of gnome captives were being conscripted into their war program in the southern territories.

So Essles burnt the ship down.

It wasn't the smartest of moves, especially since he didn't really consider the fact that he had nothing to save himself with. Afterwards, wet & cold and clining to some flotsam Essles rode the currents south.......

[Ellear Ias]

Name: Ellear Ias
Race: Felinae Nebelung (Human-Cat hybrid of the cat breed nebelung)
Class: Rogue
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Age: 21
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 138 lbs
Hair: Silvery white, unevenly cut to Shoulder length.
Eye Colour: pale green



Weapons:
Two cold iron punching daggers (Katar) that are +2.
One +1 Rapier stolen from her sister Livenier's origional captors, formerly part of a set, the other still with her twin sister.

[Backstory]
In a chilly country FAR to the south, two twin girls were kidnapped and sold as 'exotic slaves' to a group of trading vessels. Three years later, they were reunited in a warmer country. It was a happy reunion, but the girls were split up again by their respective owners when they were caught stealing...

Ellear was one of those twns. Though her captors bought her as an "exotic companion", they were kind to her and in travelling on the corrupt ship, she learned the expert arts of theivery and corruption.

She was set free at age 17 and has since been travelling far and wide in search of her sister since then. Kleptomaniac, lactose intolerant, and moody to boot, Ellear has been a wanderer of the continents for four years now.

[Common Knowledge]
-Ellear is very passionate about the arts
-She indured some kind of trauma in childhood
-Her Rapier has incredible sentemental value
-For her age, she is very childish
-She is on a quest to find her twin sister

[Ongoing Storyline]
Ariving at the docks in a floating crate that she'd been at sea in for almost a month, Ellear goes to meet the locals.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Name: Livenier Ias
Race: Felinae Nebelung (Human-Cat hybrid of the cat breed nebelung)
Class: Rogue/Swashbuckler
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Age: 21
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 125 lbs
Hair: Silvery white, left to flow down to her waist.
Eye Colour: pale green

Weapons:
One +1 Rapier stolen from her origional captors, formerly part of a set, the other given to her twin sister Ellear when they were girls.

[Backstory]
In a chilly country FAR to the south, two twin girls were kidnapped and sold as 'exotic slaves' to a group of trading vessels. Three years later, they were reunited in a warmer country. It was a happy reunion, but the girls were split up again by their respective owners when they were caught stealing...

Livenier was one of those twns. Unlike her sister, Liven wasn't so fortunate. Her captors treated her badly, but she still grew stronger daily. An "exotic companion" she was bought as, and an "exotic companion" she stayed. Just as with her sister, in travelling on the corrupt ship she learned the expert arts of theivery and corruption, while at the same time improving her skills of seduction and swordplay.

She was kidnapped by pirates at age 15 and has been travelling far and wide in search of her sister since then. Beautifull, mischevious, and seductive to boot, Livenier has been a wanderer of the continents for six years now.

[Common Knowledge]
-Livenier is very mature for her age
-She is skilled in the art of seduction
-She indured some kind of trauma in childhood.
-She is on a quest to find someone

[Ongoing Storyline]
Has not arrived yet.

[Exileman]

Name: Arnok
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Age: Looks to be Mid 30's
Height: 6'5"
Weight: 170 lbs
Hair: Brown and unruly
Eye Colour: Varies
Tall, but lithe, Arnok isn't a very imposing figure. Wearing black jeans, a green tunic, and a tan colored trenchcoat, Arnok is a strange mix of different timelines fashions. Arnok wears a sword at his belt, carries a staff, and a rifle is on his back. He also wears a tan belt, an amulet that is a mixture of silver and brass with a decent sized purple gem in the middle a ring that is green flecked with white, and boots with a camo pattern.


Weapons:
A staff of shifting colors and make. One moment it appears wood, the next metal. This staff increases the users magical potential.
One sword, of Celtic make. While this sword appears mundane most of the time, it unsheaths itself, hovers, and glows brightly every hour, on the hour.
One H&K G11. A rifle Capable of firing a 3 round burst with absolutely no recoil until the last round has left the barrel.

[Backstory]
A magical master of time itself, Arnok has since devoted himself to mastering location. Each time he relocates himself, he learns more of the ability, and while at the new location, learns about the local area and people, partially hoping to find someone who can teach him about relocation magic, and partially cause he has all the time in the world, why not stop and smell the roses. He has already been to many different places in many different times, and will continue to do so.

[Common Knowledge]
_Not a lot right now.

[Ongoing Storyline]
After relocating into this plane, Arnok finds himself bewildered at first. It is a world of contradictions in his mind. Most worlds have a certain order, or framework, they are based upon. This world doesn't appear to. Arnok was intrigued. He would investigate.

[Nevrmore]

[Stats and Description]
Name: Hawk Geldof

Race: Human

Age: 47

Height: 5'11

Weight: 174 lbs

Eye Color: Pale blue

Sex: Male

Class: Marshal

Alignment: Lawful Good

Description: A cold, physically imposing man. He is only of average build, and is slightly taller than normal, it's his dead gaze that seems to put people off. His head is clean-shaven, but half the time it's hidden under his jet black peak cap. In fact, his entire military uniform is jet black, but only because that's the only color that appeals to him. The last article of clothing is a large, black trenchcoat. His most obvious feature is a slightly deforming scar on the left side of his face. It runs from his brow down to his chin, splitting his lips.

Personality: Dominating and overbearing. He can't help but take control of any situation even if he knows nothing about it. Put him in a group of people and he'll take the duties as leader quicker than the blink of an eye. Aside from this one aggravating trait, he's generally a nice man, if a little rough around the edges.

Weapons: (1)Two swords which sheathe into each other to become one large, unassuming pole a few inches thick. When sheathed, Hawk slings them over his back and carries them like a normal sword.

(2) A moderately large handgun. The recoil is considerable, but Hawk has long since gotten used to it. It holds 9 bullets a magazine, with a tenth one hidden above the barrel that will slide down when the hammer is cocked for the eleventh time.

[Backstory]
Up until a few years ago he was the leader of a batallion of highly skilled soldiers. While some considered Hawk bloodthirsty, war hungry or what have you, he got along with his group well and they respected him as a leader. Since their nation was usually on good terms with accompanying lands, Hawk and his team instead spent their time as mercenaries, perhaps even adventurers, who could be hired to cleanse areas of particularly severe creatures, all manner of evil and vicious. To this end Hawk found solice away from the battlefield and felt good for doing service to mankind.

Everything ended one fateful day when the marshal and his party were given a request to abolish a necromancer who had been tormenting a small village - the village of one of Hawk's own soldiers, Lot. Journeying to the village with haste, they found themselves right in the midst of a necromantic attack. The party fought valiently for a while, but things fell apart when the Necromancer decided to flee. Hawk ordered his soldiers to leave the vile wizard and continue fighting through hiz zombies to protect the citizens, but Lot refused. He had sworn a personal vendetta against the necromancer and saw his chance of ending his terror once and for all. Hawk, seeing how deeply Lot wanted to give chase, changed his mind and allowed him so.

The rest of the party continued cleaving through the hordes of zombies and trying to save as many villagers as they could. After Lot had failed to return for a long time, Hawk became worried. Temporarily taking leave of his senses, he ordered another soldier to take the mantle for awhile as he went off to search for Lot personally. When he came upon his soldier and the Necromancer locked in combat, he had intended to sneak behind the bastard and kill him while he was distracted. The wizard was on his toes, however, and managed to slice Hawk right across the face, which would result in a hideous scar the rest of his life.

The Necromancer took advantage of Lot being distracted by his injured chief to deal a fatal blow - Lot died instantly, allowing the murderous mage to finally escape. Hawk was wracked with horror and guilt over seeing one of his own killed - it filled him with terror when he realized that his remaining soldiers were still fighting the zombie horde. Even thought he ran back to the village as fast as he could, it was too late. The undead army had quickly overwhelmed his men after he had left, their bodies lay strewn across the destroyed village with dead eyes gazing right through Hawk's soul. The marshal knew that it was because of his easily changed decision, because he had broken under pressure, that killed his men, allowed the necromancer to escape, and utterly destroyed the township he was trying to save. He became cold inside and swore to himself that he would never second guess himself the same way again - he would never bend for something other than what he believes the good of his men. He would never let anybody in so they could influence him like that ever again.

[Common Knowledge]
1. Hawk is, or was, part of the military. This is obvious from his uniform

2. He's been hardened from battle, although in different ways than the norm.

[Ongoing Storyline]
None right now. He's not hunting down the necromancer that destroyed that village and killed his men or anything cliche like that - as far as he's concerned, the entire tragedy was his fault and his alone.

---------------------------------------

[Stats and Description]
Name: Descartes ("Day-Cart")

Race: Neothelid

Age: 3

Height: 6 or 7 inches

Weight: 1/2 a pound

Eye Color: reddish

Sex: Male?

Class: N/A

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Description: His visage is reminiscent of a pinkish-purple apple with four long tentacles. Besides the characteristic three deep purple spots on his crown, the rest of the squishy thing's body is lavender. The tentacles drape over a lamprey beak which he can use to drill into victim's brains and take control of their body.

Personality: Angry angry angry. Nearly everything that anyone or anything does is likely to piss Descartes off. The squishy squid has been in the town for three days in three different bodies and already has enemies abound. If killing people didn't keep him occupied, Descartes would probably just kill himself.

Weapons: Nothing but his Psionic attacks and whatever weapons his hosts may be carrying when he takes over their body.

[Backstory]
Descartes started out as any other immature Illithid - a tadpole-esque creature swimming merrily in the cerebric fluids excreted by his elder brain. If things would have gone accordingly, in a few years or so, Descartes would have matured enough to be taken from his warm pool and attached to a captured thrall. Then, after a set period of devouring the host brain, he would have warped their physical features into an iconic Illithid form and gone on to live a normal Mind Flayer life. Alas, this was not to be.

On that fateful day, the only warning was the crumbling walls as an army of goblins stormed the Illithid town. The squid-like warriors tried to hold off the beasts as best they could, but they were too unprepared to guard their homes for long. It became quickly apparent that the only means of survival was to flee, which was just what they did. Unfortunately, they were forced to leave the larvae behind, which were unknowingly basking in cerebric fluid, unaware of the horrors they were about to face.

Days passed. Weeks. Months. Bereft of nourishment, the larvae turned into an Illithid Donner party. The strong larvae devoured the weak, only to be devoured by the stronger. In the end, only one Larval Flayer survived. It was Descartes. Descartes escaped from it's home-become-jail and stalked the caves of its abandonned home, looking for food (ie: brains). Having no sense of time or really much sentience at all, it didn't know how long it was until it had finally come across a suitable meal. Immediately after devouring the poor soul's brain did it hit the small fry. Intelligence, sentience, free will all came to it at once, it finally realized who it was. However, this new power, mingled with the memories of the cannibalistic ritual it had undergone, drove it to near-insanity. Angry at itself and the world it lived in, it escaped with the body it had taken control of to the upper world, where it passed from person to person, eating their brains and slowly growing in power.

[Common Knowledge]
Nothing. Only beings like the orb that protects the library can tell when he's controlling a body.

[Ongoing Storyline]
Has already fought Ivellio, Kyrian, and SASO, and hates all three of them. If it takes the rest of his life he'll find a way to kill them all.

---------------------------------------

[Stats and Description]
Name: Floyd

Race: Human?

Age: mid twenties

Height: 6'0

Weight: 176 lbs

Eye Color: Changes depending on his mood

Sex: Male

Class: Bard with the power to RAWK

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Description: A man with a laid-back demeanor, Floyd is the epitome of "Do nothing, make more." His shoulder-length hair is dyed pink, but people shouldn't mistake that for any clues of his sexual orientation, it's more of a thinly veiled reference to a band. At the top of his hair, he has gelled up a few locks to stick into the air like a mohawk. His clothes scream "Punk", with tattered pants and a dirt shirt over an equally dirty jacket. A Gibson guitar is strung over his back.

Personality: Laid-back and humorous, although if you badmouth whatever he likes, he's known to get into a "Battle of the Bands" with you, which can range from ana ctual battle of musical talent to him beating you over the head with his guitar a whole lot.

Weapons: His guitar, which seems to hold some sort of magical property.

[Backstory]
No one knows. He just fell out of the sky like a shooting star - literally - one day.

[Common Knowledge]
None.

[Ongoing Storyline]
None.

--------------------------
[Stats and Description]
Name: Zurvan

Race: N/A

Age: N/A

Height: 7'0

Weight: N/A

Eye Color: Glowing white

Sex: Male

Class: N/A

Alignment: True Neutral

Description: The body of Zurvan itself may look scrawny, even emaciated, but this is usually overshadowed the rest of his figure. His pitch black wings, twice his length and width, stretch out from his back and into the air like darkness encroaching upon the day. His entire form is completely hairless - from his bald head down to his feet, and he shows no modesty in his complete nudity, although he at least poses himself in such a way that his malehood dignities are shielded from the eye, if he even has one. His wings lick the ground, but it is unknown if that is how he keeps eternally suspended in the air or if it is some sort of supernatural power.

Personality: His personality is absolutely independent from the world around him. He is not sad, nor happy, nor angry, nor any other emotion under the sun. He simply is. Being at least a little hospitable, he will answer any question within his grasp of knowledge, but given how much more mature his knowledge is than others, almost on a cosmic scale, this is usually not problematic. Some believe him to be some type of god, although he neither confirms or denies this. Any question about himself is answered with a simple "I am.", although he does not mean "Yes", he simply means "I exist, I am myself."

Weapons: None. He has never attacked anyone, and he has never needed to defend himself.

[Backstory]
N/A

[Common Knowledge]
To this day, Zurvan has never moved himself - not an inch, not a twitch. He has never blinked, he speaks without moving his mouth, his torso never expands or detracts to draw in breath. He does not ever speak unless spoken to first. Due to this, many uninformed peoples think he is some sort of insanely elaborate statue, a decoration made by an anonymous sculpter. Those with better knowledge, however, know of his true identity.

[Ongoing Storyline]
None.

-------------------
Name: Nomos

Race: Inevitable

Age: Unknown

Height: 6'0

Weight: 698 pounds

Eye Color: white when placid, red when "judging"

Sex: Male

Class: N/A

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Description: A strange robotic humanoid cast in lusterless black steel. His face seems twisted and evil, two eyes staring forever forward underneath a deeply furrowed brow. The unmoving mouth seems to almost be stitched shut by large, copper wires weaving around it. Various parts of his insides are exposed, revealing circuitry and the like. He wears a navy blue cloak with the hood up most of the time.

Personality: Cold. He does not care for human interaction, he only cares to judge those whom he is hunting.

Weapons: Fists. He can conduct extraordinarily high charges of electricity, an efficient way to dispatch "criminals."

Backstory: Like other Inevitables, Nomos purports to be from the distant world of Mechanus. Apparently, he was sent to the Town because of the unnaturally high amount of "criminals" in the area. Nomos is not an average Inevitable; instead of representing such things as justice, death, or mortality, he is the ineluctibility of naturality. As long as the powerless NPCs are the majority of the Town, everyone else - all the winged humans, all the strange creatures, all the fox people, everyone who is out of the ordinary to the point of godhood - is a criminal in the eyes of Nomos, and there is no escaping his brand of justice. As he repeats to his victims, "Nomiko i thanatos": Law or Death.

Ongoing story: There will be a lot of conflict with this boy.
---------------------
Name: Father Lues

Race: Human??

Age: Unknown

Height: 6'0

Weight: 140 pounds

Eye Color: Deep Purple

Sex: Male

Class: Cleric

Alignment: ???

Description: A friendly man who always has a gentle smile on his face. He wears expensive, purple priestly vestments, but the flamboyancy is in deep contradiction to his humble attitude. He keeps his hood up most of the time, which has caused his nearly bleach-blonde hair to shoot off in every direction. From his neck, vines sprout, as if from plants.

Personality: Gentle and warm. He addresses everyone as either "my friend" or "my lady", depending on their gender. He is as hospitable as hospitality can be and equally as patient. However, he has been known to show an uglier side. When something angers him, he can get mean and, if worst comes to worse, violent.

Weapons: He is frail by human standards, but he can uses a vast array of different plant-themed weapons. He seems fond of using barbed winves to inject tranquilizers into would-be attackers.

Backstory: No one knows who Father Lues is or how he came to be. He simply showed up one day and constructed "The Church of the Seed:" A very peculier church which, instead of worshipping gods, they worship their inner spirits. They believe that the soul is like a tree - When you are strong, it is full of vitality and in bloom. When you are feeling guilt or depression, the tree wilts and is weak. The Chruch, however, always believes that it can be repaired. There is a vague reference that hangs on the lips of church members known as "The World Tree", but as of yet, no one is quite sure what they mean by it.

Ongoing story: Lues is currently housing Jack Golgotha, recently reformed criminal and new initiate of the church, and Mneme, the dryad sent by the Archon Tree to gather information on the outside world. He makes sure all of his acolytes keep a staunch lookout for Vahlziir, a powerful wizard who tried to steal Jack away while he was under Lues' care.
--------------------
Name: Adder

Race: Human

Age: 27

Height: 6'0

Weight: 167 pounds

Eye Color: Brown

Sex: Male

Class: N/A

Alignment: Neutral Evil

Description: A man who definitely stands out in a crowd. His hair is two toned - Most of it is bleach blonde while his sideburns and the back are black. He has several deep scars adorning his face. Most unusual of all, however, is the fact that there are extensions cut from the sides of his mouth up his cheeks, widening his mouth by several inches. He keeps the skin together by two silver piercings through his cheeks.

Personality: Subject to change. He can easily be a very nice guy to get along with if you ignore the strange mutilations to his face, he can even be caring. Or, he can be twisted and crazed, doing anything to see your blood flow. He is an admitted sado-masochist, and will often berate his opponents for how bad they are at hurting him.

Weapons: A wakizashi with a red weave and an almost endless supply of hilt-less stiletto blades. As he has said to Rafael the vampire, Blades are so much more wicked than guns because you have to be so close to a person to use them, inspiring horror.

Backstory: In his own words:

"I suppose I really started down the slippery slope when I was about ten years old and I gave a schoolmate an impromptu tracheotomy with a pencil. In the years following that incident, I usually just wandered the streets, finding things to mutilate - dogs, birds, cats, you know. I was just a curious little boy back then. Anyway, my first year as a teenager was when I was officially inducted into my first gang. It wasn't that serious when I had joined it, mostly just some hoodlums who wished they were hard-toothed gangsters...They were intimidated with my personality and unique...fighting style, as it were. They were broken up quick enough, and for awhile I just kept moving from gang to gang, riding it out until they were dispesred. When I earned a reputation, instead of Black Adder, I was called Red Adder for the copious amount of blood I would always get on myself during a fight - both mine and my opponent's.

Even though my sadist streak was well known, I really didn't find out about the masochistic side of me until I managed to really piss off a couple of rival mafiosos. They kidnapped me on the street and brought me to some warehouse to give me the old bout of torture, imagine their surprise when they found out that I was enjoying it more than them. Anyway, I was pretty much feared around my area of living until now, when I decided there was nothing to be gained from that backwaters town. So I gave my final sendoff in the form of horribly brutalizing the most well-known gang members in the town and then left. After awhile, I showed up here."

Ongoing story: Adder is currently trying to build up a gang so that he can overtake the Town's flimsy government and incite Anarchy. So far he has Aesa, Sia, Lelin, Amik, Jaric, and possibly Tasha on his side.

--------------------------------
Name: Crucius AKA "Magister Terrorem"

Race: ???

Age: ???

Height: 6'4

Weight: 110 pounds

Eye Color: Unknown

Sex: Male

Class: N/A

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Description: A strange man indeed. He is deathly thin, his clothes hanging off his flimsy shoulders almost indefinitely. His skin is greenish-yellow, as if he has been afflicted with a severe case of jaundice. His eyes and the sides of his mouth have been stitched shut, but he seems able to use them just as well as if they weren't.

Personality: He's a complete, 100% sadist. Every new person he meets, he immediately ponders the best way to torture them. He has memorized the complete anatomies of over 500 species, both humanoid and animal alike. When he's not being crazed and aroused by torture, he is known to just be a huge prick.

Weapons: His primary weapon is a large, cross-shaped bardiche, a few inches his superior in height. Despite his flimsy arms, he swings it easily.

His second weapon are several vials of what is known as "Liquid Agony", a concoction by Professor Affidavit which causes unendurable, torturous pain to anyone it touches. He has been known to coat his bardiche with it to increase its effectiveness.

His third weapon is his huge "pet", Onus - A giant humanoid who is keept grounded by two large bricks of the heaviest metal growing from his knuckles. At Crucius' command, however, the beast can momentarily overcome the burden and aid the crazy man in a fight.

Backstory: No one knows or probably even cares to know. He showed up one day, became a K.N.A.V.E.S. member, and quickly began earning people's ire.

Ongoing story: None, currently.

------------------------
Name: Plot

Race: ???

Age: Ageless

Height: 6'0

Weight: Weightless, but simultaneously millions of pounds

Eye Color: N/A

Sex: Male?

Class: N/A

Alignment: True Neutral

Description: His skin is completely grey and as smooth as well cut marble. He has no defining features whatsoever - His head is like an oval, with no hair or facial features to speak of. He manages to speak and eat just fine, though. He wears modern clothes, which is strange for his setting - His usual attire is a long-sleeved, collared shirt underneath a short sleeved shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes, all as grey as his skin. Finally, he always has a strange aura around him that looks like television static.

Personality: Bitter and sardonic best describe him. He hasn't descended into a complete cynical pessimist yet, but with all the people who outright ignore him in Town, he has become quite angry at them all lately, which he expresses with insults, mostly. He isn't an unpleasant "person" to be around, though - He just happens to be much more sarcastic and deadpan than the average person.

Weapons: Plot is unarmed because, I mean, come on, he'd be pretty silly looking with a weapon. He is, however, omnipotent, omnipresent, and omniscient, though he doesn't act it. He is not immortal, but he is regenerative - Woe be the world that has to live in the few chaotic minutes when Plot is killed before he can resurrect himself.

Backstory: Plot is a physical manifestation of just that - Plot. He became tired of everyone ignoring him, breaking him, and everything else, so he created an actual version of himself to actively patrol the Town, although he has quickly reduced himself to hanging out at Trog's Tavern and the Omnishop (both at the same time - omnipresence) and drinking. Though he seems incompetent at times, it is entirely his will that keeps the ebb and flow of the world going at a smooth pace. He has a few friends, like the physical manifestation of Chaos, Dead Time, or the late Continuity, but mostly he just keeps to himself.

Ongoing story: Knocking back beers at Trog's.

[GuesssWho]

1st Character
Name: Sasic Kiordane
Race: Black Dragon (polymorphs to look like a drow)
Age: 99 (Young Adult)
Size: Large (or Medium, in disguise)
Sex: Female
Alignment: CN
Class: Rogue 1

Description: As a dragon, Sasic is a glossy black, with one red eye and one blue eye. She is very intelligent, more so than most dragons her age. As an elf, her coloring is the same, with long silver hair.

Backstory: Sasic was generally disliked by her kind for 'not being evil enough.' She has wandered the world looking for a place to live. She has found that drow are treated better than dragons, and she likes the drow's style. Also, it gives her a reason to be nervous around Good people, which simply being disguised as an elf wouldn't do.

Common Knowledge: Few people realize that Sasic is a dragon, believing that she is a drow who knows Draconic.
She is shy around Good people, as she never knows what to expect from them.

Possessions: Ring of Polymorph, Gemstone of Light Fortification, Ring of Sustenance, Gray Bag of Tricks, whetstone

Storyline: Currently lives in the caves and sewers under the Town.
Is a member of the Cookie Army. Nachos suck!

Speaks in Red.

2nd Character
Name: Scylla Whateley
Race: Half-Farspawn Elf
Age: 25
Size: Medium
Sex: Female
Alignment: CN/CE
Class: Sorcerer 1

Description: Looks pretty normal, but always wears a heavy cloak. Underneath the cloak is a horror: tentacles, random eyes and mouths, scales. (For Lovecraft fans-look at her name again.)

Backstory: Was born in a small, rural town far from the Town. Her family left when it was discovered by their neighbors that they were all Farspawn or pseudonatural.

Common Knowledge: Is a unusual, reclusive young woman who always wears a coat. Or two. And a robe over it.
Frequents the weirdest shops in the Town.

Storyline: Nothing yet.

Speaks in Light Blue.

3rd Character
Name: Ghuan'geld Afin'ar
Race: Drider
Age: Unknown
Size: Large
Sex: Female
Alignment: CE, verging on True Chaotic
Class: Cleric (Level Uncertain)

Description: Silver haired and maroon eyed, with the forebody of a drow priestess and the hindquarters of a black widow spider.

Backstory: Uncertain, clouded by her madness. She was once a drow, as are most driders, but the specifics have been lost.

Common Knowledge: Is a mutant madwoman who has strange abilities.

Speaks in Red.

For Modern Town characters, see the Modern Town thread.

[Carrion_Humanoid]

Eralin Stonehedge(Adoptable)

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Name: Eralin Stonehedge
Race: Human
Age: 17
Size: Medium
Sex: Male
Alignment: Lawful Nuetral
Class: Rogue 2, Fighter 3, Ranger 3.
Description: Eralin is a well-built human, standing at 6 feet tall. He is somewhat muscular and his skin is a light tan. His hair is wavy and dark brown and is some-what long, a bit over his shoulders. His hair in the front covers his eyes, and he wears a black headband. He wears a black shirt and blue jeans. On his belt are two revolvers and on his back is a winchester and a backpack.

Items: Two(2) Revolvers, One(1) Winchester rifle. Backpack with 67 Gold in a pouch, 120 revolver shots, 120 custom revolver shots. 100 winchester rounds and 50 custom winchester rounds.

Backstory: Aralin lived with a gnomish family his whole life, as his real family died by a orcish raid. His parents shuned the use of magic, so he relied on technology to bring him up. At 14, he knew that he was much smarter than he should be, and he thanked the gods for that. During his short adventures, he advances quickly. On the way he made new bullets for his home-made guns and rifle. However, he got way over his head when he started dealing his creations illegialy in a nearby port. Both the towns guards and the gangs chased him, so he fled and found the Town.


Common Knowledge:
Possesed by powerfull demon.



Notes:
-Eralin has his right boot loaded with lockpicks.


Ongoing Storyline:
In jail for assaulting a cop.
In jail for becoming a demon, vigilantism, attacking a cop.
Angry at cops for not allowing him to join

Duke Stonehedge(Adoptable)

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Name: Duke Stonehedge
Race: Human, right?
Age: 19
Size: Medium
Sex: Male
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Class: Sith 13/Fighter 5

Description: Duke is a well-built human, standing at 6 and a half feet tall. He is very muscular and his skin is slightly pale. His hair is straight and brown and is short and He wares a white headband. He wears a blue tunic and black jeans. On his belt are Blasters and on his back is a backpack. In his pocket it something cylindrical.

Items: 2 Blasters, Black lightsaber whose hilt is silver.

Powers: Force Lightning, Terror, Force Drain, Force Build, Force Choke, Force Push/Pull.

Backstory: Duke is Eralin’s brother, raised by his parents. His father was a Sith lord, and who better to have an apprentice then there son. He quickly advanced as a Sith and he slaughtered entire villages as training. However, when he was 14, some Jedi came and blamed the slaughter on his father, killing him. Duke stole there Starship and flew off and crash landed near the town, where he walked to for no other reason to cause mischief

Common Knowledge:

Notes:

Ongoing Storyline:
Seems to be Broken right now, as all he is doing is laying on the floor.

IG-A2(Adoptable)

Spoiler

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Name: IG-A2 (Eye-Gee A-Too)
Race: Pit Droid
Age: 10 Years
Size: Small
Sex: None, but sounds Male.
Alignment: True Neutral
Class: Rouge 2, Fighter 1

Description: IG-A2 looks like the average Pit droid*, who is mostly colored a bone white and the off color is a dull yellow. Underneath its head is a small speaker in which his voice comes from.

Items: Blaster Pistol

Back-story: A2 was created by a Swoop Racer who raced daily, until one day he got in a accident because A2 forgot to fix the engine. Angered, he attempted to scrap him for a new Pit Droid, but A2 ran away before it could happen. However, A2 thought ahead and stole some credits from his creator so he could buy a voice box. He also bought a better processing unit for himself and then, using the rest of his money, a Ticket to a New planet.

Common Knowledge:

Notes:

Ongoing Storyline:

*http://www.starwars.com/databank/droid/pitdroid/img/movie_sm.jpg

Samson O'Riely(Adoptable)

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Name: Samson O’Riely
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 179
Age: 17
Class: Gunslinger 12
Weapon: Revolver and 300 rounds, Black Time-Slow Pistol, Shotgun, bowie knife.
Description: Samson is of average build, his short brown hair covered by his “Cowboy” Hat. His light-brown trench coat covers his charred, Gray Skin. On his belt is a Bowie Knife, sharpened to perfection. His leg is metallic, seemingly made from plumbing.

Backstory: Samson was born in a town very far from The Town, called The West. He grew up, his father being a sheriff, learning how to use his revolver well. However, as children are, he grew up rebellious, and it never went away.

[Common Knowledge]
-New Guy In Town
-Leader of the Order of Anarchy

[Notes]
-None

[Ongoing Storyline]
-In Jail

Xwell Hess(Adoptable)

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Name: Xwell Hess
Race: Breedling
Gender: M
Height: 2'3" standing.
Weight: 19
Age: 10
Weapon: Light Repeating Carbine, Electro Dagger.

Description: Xwell is a short, Gray skinned humanoid creature with four small, golden eyes with feline pupils aligned in a Spider-like fashion. His head is abnormally large for his size, which houses a super-computer like brain. His fingers are long with large bulbous ends to them, which are the ends of long spindly fingers. His chest is tightened, his spine easily seen from all sides, as it seems he has no organs in his abdomen. His legs are covered with black leather pants, which have small orange lines down the sides. Across his back is a large Rifle, which looks nothing like you have ever seen.

Backstory: Born in a small cylinder of medical juices, Xwell was created from the DNA of many creatures. As he was ejected from his cylinder, his brain seemed to click on almost immediately, and realized that he was not a normal being. As the White-Coats wrote notes, he planned his escape. As they kneeled towards him, a needle in hand, he ripped off the metal of his clipboard and lunged it towards his head, and then he ran, far. He killed many people along his path, and for 6 years, he did so, Until he found a ship. Now armed with a Carbine and a Dagger, he killed to pilot and set a course for the nearest planet, “The Planet”.

[Common Knowledge]
-None

[Notes]
-None

[Ongoing Storyline]
-None

Carrion Humanoid

Spoiler

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Name: Carrion Humanoid
Race: Human Lich
Gender: Male
Height: 6’4”
Weight: 159 lbs.
Age: 36
Class: Cleric of Nerull 20
Weapon: +19 Mace of Burning, taken from the shrine of the witch-king. People are probably wondering how Carrion holds it without the fire catching his robe on fire.

Description: Carrion wears a tattered robe of linen, barely covering his chest. It shows off his partially rotted limbs, which have ceased to rot anymore. The tattered robes seem to be very flammable, but the Mace disproves this theory. He towers above most humans, his legs containing a ogres bone structure and muscles for him to run faster. He has bluish-gray skin and a hood around his head, concealing the hair that might be.

Backstory: Carrion was born many a year ago, when the Town was still young. He was in the mafia for a little while, having much trouble with many people. However, now, he is at peace and rose from the grave again. He hid his Lich-Necklace-Thing in a crate in a warehouse, surround by potatoes. He now wanders the down, chatting for fun. But before all this hooligan-ness, Carrion was a very successful knight. He dabbled in the arcane arts in his free time. On his 22 birthday, he was drafted into the kings infantry and was sent to war. With sword and spell he fought off the enemies, but one fated arrow struck his neck, killing him. When the battle was over, a nearby cadaver collector found him and brought him to its master. There Carrion was resurrected, only to be victim to many gruesome grafts. When he was dying at 25, the sorcerer made Carrion a lich. However, Carrion was much to powerful for the sorcerer and he killed him and ran away, to The Town.

[Common Knowledge]
-None


[Notes]
-None

[Ongoing Storyline]
-None

[Gorbad the Limb Rippa]

Mourn

race:Half orc
Class:lvl 5 rouge.lvl 10 fighter,lvl 3 assassin
Alignment:NE,tends to bully others smaller weaker than him but trys to avoid to much attention,greedy,patient
age:37
Weight:207lb
height:6"3
Hair:bald
weapon/equipment:One rather elven looking longsword,one dagger,warhammer
,short bow and arrows,mithral chain(also elven looking),mithral buckler,Dark cloak is worn at all times
Back story:mourn was an orphan,his mother abbandonned him after being born in a monastery.
He was teased through most of his childhood for being ugly,but when he grew taller than most of the kids in town he bullied them to no extent.
He started a gang and eventually caught the eye of a local theifs guild.
the guild trained him to be a"knee-cap breaker" and used him to imtimidate merchants and the like.
he gained his fighting ability from a elf who he was sent to deliver payment to,the guy turned out to be watching his training and offered him far more power.
his mentor taught him many valuable skills.
His first assassination mark was his mentor,which is where he got his elvish equipment.
He became quite a succes ful assassin,using more fighting than assassination in his job
general knowledge:Knows where most cities Thei type guilds are
ongoing story line:looking for work

[Shujaa]

Name: Slaeris
Race: Quanak Lizarfolk
Age: 27
Size: Medium
Sex: Male
Alignment: CG, does not believe in following laws purely because they are laws, and will only follow them if he believes them of his own accord. Strong disdain for racism in all forms. Calm and measured unless he comes into contact with such bigotry.
Class: Monk/Psionic Fist

Description: Thinner than the average for his bulky species, Slaeris is no less strong than his brutish cousins of the Lizardfolk, and his thick scaly skin is augmented by psionic inertial armour. His skin is a bright blue-green, seeming to be green with a blue tint or blue with a green tint alternatively, its shade changing every time you see him. He has long, noble features, looking as much like a dragon in the face as a lizardman, with scarlet eyes and shining white teeth uncostomary for his people. He is dressed in simply clothes, nearly rags.

Items: Rags and a walking stick.

Backstory: His village was killed by adventurers seeking to rid the world of monsters, leaving him the sole orphan, all the other infants being killed. He was only hidden by a beam that fell on him when his house burned. The inertial armour protected him from the blow, and he was found by wandering warrior monks, who raised him as they would any child.
Slaeris is suspicious of other adventurers, although be believes in giving them a fair chance before dismissing them as just more murderers like the ones who took his parents away before he even knew them. Only through his natural psionics was he able to look back to his earliest memories to know what his parents looked like or know the sound of their voice. However, he doesn't let himself be blinded by hate, for the order taught him from a young age that such blindness was what killed his family, more than adventurers, and to submit to it towards humans and elves or adventurers of any race, or to anyone, was to become the same as the evil men who destroyed his village. Besides, he is an adventurer and doesn't engage in such murder.


Common Knowledge:
He's a monk, obviously by his bearing and dress.
He is said to have a portion of his mind divided, permenantly, always in meditation. (Perm. Schism effect, in terms of DnD rules, contantly creating Psionic Focus. I don't know if that's allowed in the DnD rules, but he's doing it.)

[hr]

Name: Kayeriel
Race: Human, Elan?
Age: Indeterminate
Size: Medium
Sex: Male
Alignment: Alignment is hard to determine; he's very selfish and tends towards greed, but is nonetheless good of heart, wanting to help those around him (although he usually makes certain it brings him a profit), rogueish sort of charm about him, generally elitist. Think somewhere between Errol Flynn and Oscar Wilde.
Class: Psion

Description: Kayeriel is very thin, due to sustaining himself without food or drink for long periods of time in psionic trances, or, earlier in life, due to the poverty that wouldn't allow him to receive any. He wears brightly coloured clothes or black clothes highlighted with bright colours, and tends to avoid wearing clothes that fit him, a habit that was born from necessity in his days as a street urchin. He wears either loose or very tight-fitting clothes, usually of the highest quality and empowered with some psionic force.
Items: More psionic items than he would care to count, with more purposes than he'd care to count.

Backstory: Kayerial was a street urchin who lived off begging and starving, no wealthier or better cared for than the true orphans around him, so he may as well have been one. The dawning of his psychic powers allowed him an escape most could only find through crime, death, or both.

Common Knowledge:
Very little. He'd be more likely guessed as a rogue than a psion.

[Dumavion]

*note: this character is not my avatar, at least until I make one... or someone else does :D*

Name: Karen Wolfgutter
Race: Half- Elf
Age: Mid 20's
Alignment: CN
Class: Barbarian 3, Ranger 5
Female

Description: Karen is a half-elven maiden who would be considered beautiful- if it weren't for her tendency to rip your throat out first and ask questions later. She has short auburn hair caked with mud and tan, scarred skin from years in the wilderness of Kraag. She has a dark red tattoo on her left arm. She wears the skins of wolves about her, and her eyes are a piercing green.

Backstory: Karen is the product of a human attack upon an elven village. Her village was burned, but her impregnated mother escaped into the wilderness of Kraag, a canyon miles deep surrounded by a thick forest and cliffs. Directly after Karen was birthed, a dire wolf attacked them, springing from the shadows. The wolf got its jaws upon Karen's mother's fragile neck- but before she died, she made a selfish sacrifice for her daughter. The elf called upon ancient magics, and a blast of light illuminated the area. The wolf and Karen's mother were consumed in an inferno, and a lightning bolt struck Karen's arm. Another blast of light happened, and when the smoke cleared... the wolf and Karen's mother were gone, and a bloodred tattoo covered Karen's forearm in the shape of a wolf. Afterwards, Karen had to fend for herself. The tattoo on her arm forced her into primal rages occasionally, and she couldn't control herself. However, eventually she formed a bond with an eagle, and the eagle's pure energy suppressed the tattoo's power. Karen is now a ranger of Kraag, and she considers it her duty to slay every wolf she meets but occasionally, the tattoo takes over again. Occasionally... Karen becomes a werewolf.

Items: Hide armor, +3 composite shortbow, masterwork longsword, shortsword, eagle familiar, tattoo of lycanthropy (dire wolf). The hide armor is a result of all of her slain enemies. The shortbow was brought as a gift from her familiar. The swords were prizes from a human fighter she came across. The tattoo is a bond of her mother's magic and the dire wolf's ferocity. The sheer pain of having it on her arm forces Karen into rages sometimes, but the tattoo also draws energy from the wilderness when she is truly enraged and on the full moon, and forces her into the state of a werewolf.

Common Knowledge: Not much is known about Karen throughout the rest of the world. However, there are several villages in Kraag, and her wild rages occasionally take her there. She slaughters everyone, but some survivors escape. They tell of a ferocious half woman- half beast with blood in its eyes, and the bards sing of the Monster of Kraag.

[Krystal_Tiger]

Name: Ilaissa Niphrodil.
Race: Half Moon Elf, Half Silver Dragon.
Class: Druid lvl 11.
Alignment and Temprament: Chaotic Good, friendly, happy, but never really open to anyone but Zira .
Age: 118, sill very young.
Height: 5 feet, 8 inches.
Weight: 121 lbs.
Hair colour and length: Silvery white,middle length hair, shimers light blue in moon light.
Eye colour: A deep,dark green,that seem to be filled with understanding, but of what, you can't be sure.
Weapons:
Staff:Ilaissa has a Staff that shoots random elements, likes to shoot drops of water just to bug her, but can be useful.
Magic:Ilaissa can, and will use magic, but normally likes to use Dragonic attacks.
Draconic Attacks: Claw, Bite, Breath Weapon,tail whip, etc.

[Backstory]
She knows nothing of her Moon-Elf Father Klendor but his name.
Ilaissa was rasied by her Silver Dragon Mother Ardnelk, in a large cave in a mountaines area aroung The Town, Ardnelk sent Ilaissa off in to the human's world, and fell asleep.
Later Ilaissa found Zira, traped in a bear trap, after freeing her, Zira simply would not leave Ilaissa's side.
Knowing that mother was taking a long nap, Ilaissa and Zira went of to live in the closest town...The Town.


[Common Knowledge]
- Ilaissa became a druid to protect mother nature, as shes been so good to Ilaissa.
-She found her staff in her hands, on the first day in the town, the staff, she has named Elemental Fury, or "Fury" for short, has not been able to be sepreated from Ilaissa for long, just like Zira.
-Sometimes, on a quite day in the woods(or with a REALLY good listen check) you can hear riddles being traded in draconic.

[Notes]
-She will only REALLY open up to those who can win her trust, if she shows you to her cave, you can ask her to do anything, and unless it is something that would harm any one she cares about, she will do it, but she's only let one person in, Zira, and Zira knows all Ilaissa's secrets.

[Gorbad the Limb Rippa]

Name:Tethost
Race:Tiefling
Class:wizard level 17
Alignment and Temprament:True neutral,arrogant,condesending,mean,impatient,power hungry
thinks all none magic users are idiots
Age:29
Height:6ft
Weight:128
Hair:Pitch black,long
Eye colour:Black,with red slit pupil
Other:Horns(about 2 inchs long),mystic tatoos down both sides of his face
Equipment:a plain black staff(staff of power),black robes(Grey robe of the archmagi,
just died black),various other wizardly things.
[backstory]
Grew up in a small village raised only by his mother(father ran away when he was born,calling his mther a demon lover).He was nearly burnt to death when he was 9 by a angry mob,and his mother died so he could escape.Was found by a traveling wizard who taught him magic(he was a very eager and potent student,in fact he became addicted to magic so to say)
He left his master when he was skilled enough in the art of magic and became powerful through adventuring with a bunch of incompetent buffoons(according to him).He came to Town
to further his magical power
[Common Knowledge]
Is very power hungry and will practicly do any thing for power.
Hates racism