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Beyond the Veil of Rosemore [Character Sheets & Info]

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Beyond the Veil of Rosemore [Character Sheets & Info]

Postby Kotorchix » Thu Dec 26, 2013 1:47 am

<center>Beyond the Veil of Rosemore

Character Sheets and Information
Please do not make posts in this thread. All posts relating to editing this thread should be included in the Out-of-character Discussion.

CHARACTERS INDEX:

The Adena Family
Celeste Adena (Singular Character) Shewolf13

The Blackwood/Cutter Family
Gorfan Cutter (Giant's Blood) Mr_Chunnin90
Kerrin Blackwood (Handler) Mr_Chunnin90

The Daemon Family
Drake Daemon (Father figure/Patriarch) Shewolf13
Brandt Daemon (Brother) Shewolf13
Kala Daemon (Sister) Shewolf13

The Dario/Williams Family
Liesel Dario (Singular Character) Duisternis
Elinor Williams (Matriarch) Duisternis

The Davenport Family
Ian Davenport (Singular Character) Unknown Assassin

The El Family
Markas El (Singular Character) Antaric

The Gus/Cumber Family
Carrasquillo-Volkardan 'Gus' Gus (Patriarch) Kotorchix
Lucy Cumber (Gus' ward) Kotorchix
Hhielsohan 'Hhi' Mhyriron (Son) Kotorchix

The Kor'kandi Family
Kykysh Kor'kandi (Singular Character) meatcaber

The Royce/Marlas Family
Brandon Royce (Adoptive Father/Patriarch) Antaric
Marianne 'Mari' Marlas (Mother) Kotorchix

The Winslaw Family
Rahl Winslaw (Patriarch) Kotorchix
Andrew Winslaw (Father) Kotorchix
Marcella Winslaw (Daughter) Kotorchix
Sophia Winslaw (Daughter) Kotorchix




INFORMATION INDEX:

WIP!
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Last edited by Kotorchix on Wed Feb 05, 2014 7:17 am, edited 21 times in total.
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Postby Kotorchix » Thu Dec 26, 2013 3:43 am

Surname: Winslaw

First Name: Rahl

Gender: Male

Age: 68

Personality: Rahl Winslaw is charismatic and intelligent with a fine head for politics and business. He is a wealthy man and has no real understanding of how sharing works. He expects a man to work hard for his gold and does not condone hand-outs, this motto extending even to his own sons. If he does ever give out a hand-out, it is usually in an attempt to spite the person he is giving it to. He is not a family man - he is a businessman and expects professionalism from everyone he meets. He does not understand failure.

Appearance: Rahl has a noble, almost haughty air to him. He stands tall at 5'11" with a straight posture. He is broad-shouldered and has kept his body in excellent condition for his age, although a small pot-belly is finally starting to develop. His shoulder-length white hair and tidy beard (still with the lightest streaks of light brown in it) are immaculately groomed. He wears smart black clothing unless doing physical labour and smells slightly flowery from expensive cologne.

Career/Job/Skills: Rahl conducts much of the communications with Sir Rosemore as well as postal services with the outside world concerning mail and trade. He is head of the Winslaw family and works as a gentleman farmer and banker. He has taken an interest in the budding mining potential of Whiteford.

Brief Personal History: Rahl was born in the busy western trade city of Ramarston and raised to become a businessman. He was the third out of four sons but still inherited a fairly large share of his father's holdings and several of his land claims when the old man died. He set up these land claims as farms and inns (the latter assisted by his youngest brother who went on to become the landowner of many of the Winslaw Inns).

He didn't marry until age twenty-eight, and even then it was not for love. His family were pushing him to have heirs to his vast fortune and getting married seemed the next thing to do in his very wealthy life. Seventeen-year-old Myrtle was his bride and the two were married for five years until she died of pneumonia. During their marriage, she bore him two sons: Allan and Burkely.

At age thirty-five, Rahl met a noblewoman named Alicia in Sofitan, a small city south of Remarston. She had been widowed twice before although she was only twenty-eight years old, and never bore children to either husband. Rahl felt love for the first time and feel deeply for the poetic, hopeless romantic while almost completely neglecting his sons as a father - he only mentored them, leaving them to live with their uncle. He married Alicia, and a year later their son Andrew was born.

Rahl loved Andrew more than the other two, the son of the woman that he truly loved. Around the time of Andrew's birth, Rahl's brother's business in Inn-Keeping went downhill. Rahl left Alicia and Andrew for a few years to help clean up the business and place it back on-track. During those years, he spent more time with Allan and Burkely although his attentions to them could be considered more those of a business mentor than a father.

Four years passed from Andrew's birth, the occasional visit being the only contact that Rahl and Alicia had with each other. However, after one such visit, a neighbouring noble jealous of Rahl's affections to Alicia, murdered her in her sleep. Rahl returned for the funeral and took Andrew with him back to Remarston to be with Allan and Burkely.

Andrew reminded him so much of Alicia and Rahl put the most effort into trying to raise the tiny tot into being the best businessman so his deceased wife would have been proud. He was the hardest on Andrew, gave him the best education, and grew increasingly frustrated as the little boy seemed to refuse to learn. He treated Andrew as an employee, not a son, and berated him when he failed to learn the very basic concepts of numbers although he was being provided with everything to help him learn.

Seven years after Alicia's death, Burkely died when his horse fell while hunting. Allan was eighteen years old at the time and he and eleven-year-old Andrew became the sole heirs to Rahl's vast fortune. Allan was an ambitious banker and a gentleman farmer like his father before him. At this time, Andrew was sent away for a higher education that Rahl felt would make his son more intelligent than even himself.

Four years later, when Andrew returned, it was revealed that during that time he had only spent a year learning business and accounting and the other three he had spent writing poetry and stories! Rahl was furious, and seething with anger he threw Andrew out of his estate. He told the youth never to come back. His son would not be a poet or bard! He would not be known as Rahl Winslaw, father of a fool!

In the following five years, Rahl's heart filled with sorrow and regret. Although he still did not approve of Andrew's decisions in life, he tried to seek him out to apologise. He came to the realisation that Andrew's love of literature came from Alicia and to honor her, Rahl really should just accept who Andrew was. Still, he was determined to make his youngest son a businessman. He could carry on with his foolish hobbies in his spare time.

When he found Andrew, he discovered his son had married a lowborn wife and they lived in a tiny hovel in Remarston with two tiny daughters. Disapproving of the marriage, but entrapped by his adorable granddaughters, Rahl started to mend the rift he had created with Andrew. He continued to try and push Andrew into business, this time with Allan, but Andrew leaned more towards physical labour on Allan's farms rather than the actual money side. Again, Rahl was frustrated with his son.

Nine years after finding Andrew again, his son's wife died. Andrew was sick with grief. He stopped working and Rahl took over the responsibilities of parenting his granddaughters, Marcella and Sophia. The younger soon proved to be arts and literature-orientated like her father, and the more ambitious Marcella soon proved to be Rahl's favorite of the two.

Even three years after Andrew's wife's death, Andrew still hadn't returned to work. Rahl got on his son's back once more, claiming that Andrew was going to ruin his daughters' lives with his tardiness and that if Andrew wasn't going to work, something was going to have to be done. Finally, he had endured enough of his son's laziness and grief and started looking for a means to kick Andrew back to life.

He discovered the Rosemore Invitation for pioneers looking to start a new life in the mysterious Rosemore Valleys. It seemed a perfect way to force Andrew into working, even if it wasn't business exactly. He signed up, including Andrew, Marcella and Sophia. The journey from Remarston took a few weeks, but the trip up the mountains surrounding the Rosemore Valleys and down to the village site took two months by carriage.

Rahl intended to stay only long enough to ensure that Andrew was working in this new and unexplored land, one of the first pioneers to settle, but he soon fell in love with the land. A passion grew for forging his way into new lands and breaking in new ground, and the land was so fertile it would grow almost anything planted in it. He sent news back to Allan stating that he was now the sole owner of all Rahl's former estates and lands as the old man wished to remain beyond Rosemore's Veil.

He lives in a massive house built by himself and Andrew and a few other members of the small village. Andrew, Marcella and Sophia live with him. The manor is far from completed, and is lacking in decoration, but several of the rooms downstairs are used for village-reasons instead of personal family reasons. Until buildings are created for the appropriate needs, Rahl handles banking in one of the large basements of the manor, and postal dealings in the sun-room off from the front room and entry foyer. He is thinking of setting aside another room dedicated to the business side of the budding mining industry in Whiteford as he wouldn't mind getting involved in that also.

He employs two servants, one whom assists him in the banking and posting. The other takes care of cooking, cleaning, and anything Marcella and Sophia need.

Married? No. Myrtle (married 5 years) deceased. Alicia (married 4 years) murdered.

Has children? Yes. Allan Winslaw. Burkely Winslaw deceased. Andrew Winslaw.
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Postby Kotorchix » Thu Dec 26, 2013 4:49 am

Surname: Winslaw

First Name: Andrew

Gender: Male

Age: 32

Personality: Andrew is a romantic, kind-hearted sort who was rebellious in his youth. He has mellowed somewhat in the past four years since his wife's death and lost a fair amount of his former passion and fire. He has become closed-off and quiet. He does not try to make friends and prefers to be left lost in his books and writing. It is rare for him to interact in social settings and he shuts himself away or leaves for walks to revel in solitude whenever he can.

Appearance: Andrew Winslaw has noble, handsome features. His hair is an off-blonde light brown colour and his eyes a vibrant blue. His eyes have black hollows beneath them from lack of sleep and tiny wrinkles have started at the corners of his eyes. He is rarely clean-shaven and his hair is often tussled and un-kept, trailing down to the nape of his neck. He is tall and broad from physical labour, standing at 6'3". His hands seem to be massive. He usually just wears his working clothes whenever, no matter the occasion.

Career/Job/Skills: Andrew is a born writer. He has authored several books under the pen name of Calvert Hightower, unbeknown to all but his daughter Sophia. However, despite writing and poetry being his true passions, he is a strong and capable physical labourer. He has experience farming, and is well-adjusted to heavy lifting.

Brief Personal History: Andrew was born to parents Rahl and Alicia Winslaw, a noble couple. His home-city is Sofitan, a city of the arts, music, beauty and romance. Alicia read stories to Andrew since he was a newborn and she spent every waking moment she could with her son. Rahl was a different matter, however, and he left on business for four years. Visits back to Alicia and Andrew were very rare.

Shortly after his fourth birthday, Andrew was witness to his mother's murder. The nobleman who killed her was never caught, and Andrew lived in fear of his return for many years. As a child, he was fearful and paranoid and gazed death in the eyes far more than any small child should have to. He had nightmares every night, and when his father moved him to the larger city of Remarston to be with his older half-brothers, Allan and Burkely, the nightmares only got worse.

His brothers despised him. They harassed and teased him, even to the point of physical bullying. They hated him because their father loved Andrew while he treated them as loose ends from his previous marriage. They were only looked after as part of his duty. Andrew hated his life at home and would attempt to lose himself whenever he could. From a very young age he became physically adept, going for long hikes so he could use his newfound ability to read, hidden safely in solitude.

Rahl was trying hard for Andrew to grow up to be a businessman, but Andrew hated numbers. He couldn't grasp the concept of them, he couldn't count, and he couldn't even see the numbers properly when he looked at them. Unlike his treasured reading, numbers never stayed on the page and always crawled off to hide or blurred themselves out. Although he tried very hard to impress his father, he soon told Rahl that he wanted to focus more on reading and writing. His father disapproved, saying that there would be a time and a place for reading, but for now he should improve his numbers. This made Andrew feel that his father would have no love for his true passions.

Andrew started to write poetry and stories, but hid all his works so his father and abusive brothers wouldn't discover them.

When Andrew was eleven years old, Burkely was killed while on a hunting trip when his horse slipped and fell on him, breaking his neck. Allan backed completely off Andrew at this time, even going so far as to apologise for the previous abuse that both he and Burkely had piled on Andrew behind Rahl's back. Although their relationship could never be truly repaired, Allan and Andrew made peace.

Shortly after Burkely's death, Rahl sent Andrew away for higher education. Andrew knew that however hard he tried he would never be able to successfully finish the accounting and business training he was to receive, but he gave it his best shot for a year. Still, he was right by the end of it. He had learned nothing and his mentors were frustrated with him. He told them he was returning home and left.

However, home was the last place he wanted to be. His father had signed him into the schooling for four years, and he had another three to go. Andrew decided that during those three years he would try to experience the world and see where he could go in life. He was only young, twelve years old, but determined to be a man that he, himself, would be proud of.

He met a small group of players and entertainers and introduced himself as Calvert Hightower, a name he made up on the spot. He wrote several plays and met the beautiful, kind-hearted and seductive Azura Green. Although they were both only young, they recognised the spark of attraction between them. The time was wrong when they first met, though, and Azura dropped out of the group after Andrew had been there only one year. He continued working with the players as 'Calvert Hightower' for the next two years that he should have been in school, then finally returned home.

His father found out through a colleague that Andrew hadn't been attending school for the past three years and confronted Andrew to discover where he had truly been. Andrew only revealed that he had been writing all that time - he knew his father considered players to be fools and idiots. His father was disgusted at his misguided passion and filled with wrath, he forbid Andrew from entering the house again. He told him that he never wanted to see him again.

Andrew, freed of his family and revelling in his writing, started working in a shipping company's docks to pay rent for a small hovel of a house in Remarston. Surprisingly, he met Azura again while watching a group of street entertainers. This time the timing was right and the two married after a period of courting and many poems exchanged. Shortly after, the couple had daughters. Marcella and Sophia were born within ten months of each other.

With the difficulties of a family and a meagre income, Andrew soon started to struggle financially. His books weren't published and any writing work he did on the side didn't seem to help much as around the time the girls were toddlers, Azura started to fall ill and needed constant medical assistance.

When Andrew was twenty years of age, his father found him and apologised for his abandonment. He did not approve of Azura, but quickly fell in love with his cute little granddaughters. Their family relations were steady for about nine years and Rahl found Andrew a new job on one of Allan's farms that paid much better than the shipping company.

Azura's illness renewed and she abruptly died. Andrew was so stricken with grief he would not leave the house, couldn't work, and hardly spoke to anyone. He fell so deep within himself it was almost impossible to even get him to acknowledge another person was in the room. Marcella grew frustrated with him and turned to her grandfather for parental support whereas Sophia stuck by Andrew and helped him to maintain their home.

Three years passed, but within that time, Andrew's grief had been thrown into tireless writing. He took up the name of Calvert Hightower once more, this time as a pen name. His books started to become famous and were received with great fandom. As a result, the money started to pour in. Yet Andrew kept this hidden from his family - all except Sophia. She once came to him stating how much she liked a book written by Calvert Hightower and he revealed that he was in fact the writer. She had developed a passion much like Andrew's and helped him to keep his secrets safe.

Rahl suddenly demanded that their family move to a new land. Andrew assumed it was perhaps to shake him from his 'lethargic' ways, not getting out there to work. He didn't put up much of a fight: he could write anywhere. The girls would probably be better off starting anew, and maybe it truly was time to leave behind the house that was haunted with memories of Azura.

After arriving beyond Rosemore's Veil, Andrew was instrumental in helping to build the village of Whiteford along with other pioneers. For the first five months, it was all work and he got almost no chance to write as he was either constructing buildings with others or out in the fields starting to set up a farm. He lives in half-finished manor with Rahl and his two daughters and two servants.

Now in the sixth month, while still fairly busy, Andrew has a bit more time to relax and write. He has stopped hiding the fact that he is writing from his father and Marcella, although he still has not revealed that he is actually getting published.

Married? No. Azura (married 18 years) deceased.

Has children? Yes. Marcella Winslaw. Sophia Winslaw.
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Postby Kotorchix » Sat Dec 28, 2013 6:05 am

Surname: Kor'kandi

First Name: Kykysh

Gender: Female

Age: 32

Personality: Kykysh has always veered more on the awkward side of social interaction, a fact not helped by her being at least half a foot taller than even the tallest of other elves, which often gives Kykysh an air of superiority as she 'looks down' on those around her. She has spent much of her life either contemplating in solitude or being mentored by her mother, Modrane, and never feels entirely comfortable in the presence of other people. Though highly intelligent she has difficulty adjusting to new situations and due to an event in her past, has had a mental readjusment which often causes her emotions to run amok. Kykysh is easily flustered and prone to sporadic outbursts when feeling particularly emotional.

Appearance: Standing at 7 foot 2 inches, Kykysh is exceptionally tall even by Elven standards. At first glance she may appear almost skeletally thin, though she has actually been 'well made' with slender, graceful limbs and the feline agility of a natural predator. Under high-pointed eyebrows, dark grey eyes rest easily atop a long nose. She has high cheek bones, faintly blue, wiry lips and a barbed smile. Her skin is very pale but with a greyish cast and eyes that often reflect the colours of her surroundings. Her facial structure is that of someone born into nobility.

Kykysh wears no jewellery or other metal trinkets as these would interfere with her magical abilities (lightning etc). A simple, deep-purple dress covers her elongated form, which splits at the hips leaving her legs, arms and most of her back, bare. The simple dress also has a overlay of a lighter purple shaped into the swirls and curves of exotic plants and flowers. She wears white leather vambraces to cover her forearms and wrists. Kykish also wears thigh-high white leather boots with flat soles and two-inch heels. Strangely, Kykysh has, for any number of reasons, had her head totally shaved of hair. 

Career/Job/Skills: Kykysh is a skilled practitioner of the healing arts, and of medical science; two skills which she aptly applies to her Alchemy. Kykysh was a travelling medicine woman before she finally settled in Rosemore where she lives as an apothecary on the southern outskirts of Whiteford.

Brief Personal History: The Kor'kandi Clan of the Pale Moon are a small tribe of elves who live high in the mountains of Nustria, a continent far, far to south of Astrua and is a place very rarely heard of in the more populated places of the Northern continents. The Pale Moon are very resilient to weather as they have lived in Kor'Kallnesh (roughly translated it means 'Cloud-Dwelling') for many generations and have biologically adapted to the sways and throes of mother nature. They are a shamistic people, guided by the Lunar Cycles and divinations of the stars. They have no belief in Gods (or Goddesses) but depend on their knowledge of nature to live harmoniously with Mother Earth, whom they revere as the great provider.

It was expected that Kykysh would be born as a Starchild – a person born with the inherant gift for learning magic – and no one was more surprised than her Mother when Kykysh was born a fit, healthy child, but unlike her foremothers (who were called Starchildren for their talent with arcane magic) she had no talent for even the most basic skills of arcane magic; it was easy to assume this was why the Chief Mistress was unusually hard on her daughter. Kykysh was born under the sign of the Archer which gave her a thirst of adventure and a willingness to love and learn, a trait which endeared many of the populace to the infant child, almost all excpet her mother.

The prodigal child of the cheif Mistress of the village, Kykysh had certain liberties taken from her, most notably, for the first few years, she had almost no contact with her mother at all. The infant was instead raised by the widows and matrons who dwelled in the upper echolons of the village, women who had no family ties to distract them from imparting their wisdom on the child in their midst. Despite the occasional tantrum, Kykysh proved to be a joy to look after, and each matron contributed to Kykysh's upbringing as if they were the child's actual mother.

By the age of twelve Kykysh had learned everything she would need to undertake her magic training, despite the lack of a natural gift Modrane took it upon herself to teach her daughter, as it was expected. The child had learned to cook, clean, sew, read, write, to obey, command, and how to behave in the presence of others; but as a child willing to be 'gifted' Kykysh also learned of astronomy, philosophy, history and psychology. And everything else. Moreso than the years spent with her mother, it was the first dozen years of Kykysh's life that shaped her into the woman she would become.

Kykysh would spend the second half of her adolescence with her mother, Modrane, and when her thiteenth birthday came it was Modrane who took sole custody of her. For the next twelve years, up until puberty, Kykysh was to be mentored by the cheif Mistress of the village, a woman wholly unlike the matrons whom Kykysh loved like family, a woman whom Kykysh grew to hate passionately. Modrane was by far the most beautiful elf in the village, either male or female, but the beauty of her flesh was not mirrored by her soul, which was as twisted as the roots of a tree. In short, Modrane was vain, selfish, deceitful, vindictive, flirtatious, ambitious and driven by an unquenchable thirst for power. And she was... perfect! Though still wicked and evil, she always got whatever she wanted, no matter the cost to other people.

Unbeknown to Modrane, the Mistress had fractured her daughters mind as Kykysh tried to prove herself worthy of her mothers affections, always to fail. Magic, whether it be arcane or natural, was a gift of finesse and subtlety, not one one of brute force. One day, Kykysh had tried too hard to please her mother and used her bestowed gift in anger (despite being taught magic was never to be used in such manner, Modrane wasn't exactly an ideal role-model) to summon an arc of lightning from the sky. Kykysh realised, too late, that she had given in to the dark side and tried to contain the magic. Alas, the apprentice did not have absolute control and the destructive magic burst from her even as it sent her sprawling across the stone-cold floor. Fortunately, Kykysh had lost consciousness almost immediately so was unaware that her hair had been burnt from her head and the chambers walls had crumpled under a deluge of bolts. Furthermore, it was Modrane, in a rare moment of compassion, who saved her daughter from almost certain death.

In the twelve years under her mothers tutelage, Kykysh was treated more like an apprentice than a daughter, and had barely learned the basics of magic. Though after the incident in the mountain chamber her Mother seemed less like a monster and more like a person. The now bald youngster had learned enough to get by on her own and, thankfully, after becoming a woman at the age of twenty-four she was no longer chained to her mothers overbearing ways she was free to leave Modrane's shadow and pursue her own interests.

In the time of her adolescence she had developed a fondness for helping others, an admirable trait which was reinforced by the kindness of her Matrons, who would often give her little gifts and an abundance of praise for every helpful deed she untertook on their behalf. Kykysh approached the Head Apothecary and expressed a desire to learn from him, the young woman was already proficient in first aid and basic medicines, though the craft of herbalism and alchemy were not already imprinted into her repertoire. The Elder was pleased to have such a sweet and earnest young apprentice to which he could impart his wisdom. During this time Kykysh also learned to dance, and throughly enjoyed the freedom of expression this medium allowed.

After many years under his expert guidance, Kykysh, like almost every other youth who came of age, expressed a keen interest in the outside world and vowed to venture forth in exploration. After such voyages it was expected that the saplings would return to sire families and settle down for the prosperity of the cloud-dweling. It was often these quests for knowledge that cemented the persin in questions character, and provided a wealth of life experiences not to be found in the village.

And so it was, upon the earnest young maidens twenty-ninth birthday, that Kykysh vowed to undertake such a voyage of discovery. After many emotional farewells, and not a few tears, the young mage keft Kor'Kallnesh to pursue her destiny.



Married? No

Has children? No
Last edited by Kotorchix on Mon Jan 06, 2014 8:49 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Kotorchix » Sat Dec 28, 2013 10:41 am

Surname: Winslaw

First Name: Marcella

Gender: Female

Age: 16

Personality: Marcella is lady-like, ambitious and somewhat haughty. Her vanity and attention to outward appearances make her seem conceited to others, always grooming or attempting to make herself more beautiful. She is easily offended, demanding, but despite her inflated views of herself she seems to be able to manipulate people into doing what she wants, making her a very charismatic person much like her grandfather. She can be feisty and is very melodramatic at times. Her ego has not led her to make many friends, although she does pride herself on seducing the odd unsuspecting man for her own means.

Appearance: Slender and elegant, Marcella stands at five foot six. With luscious carrot-orange curls sprawling down her shoulders and pearly white skin, she is the very image of human nobility. Like her mother before her, she has long legs and a long neck. Her shoulders are not broad but just a little broader than what would be considered 'narrow.' Her body's slim nature has extended to her chest, so she is not very buxom. Her face is pointed down into a dainty chin and her slim nose is just slightly perky at the tip. Light cyan-colored eyes peer out from beneath black lashes and hooded lids. Almost always her lips are plushed up by red paint.

Marcella tends to wear the finest clothes she can make, find, or her grandfather can provide for her. She wears long dresses and dainty shoes, and has slimmed her waist with corsets to give the illusion that she has a bit more curve than she truly has.

Career/Job/Skills: Marcella is very skilled at needle-work and prides herself in her excellent work. She has grasped the concept of mathematics unlike others in her direct family, and often assists her grandfather in his business dealings by penning letters and keeping accounting records. Although she is not known for it, there are quiet murmurings behind her back that she is a pick-pocket seeing as other peoples' belongings around her seem to just 'disappear'.

Brief Personal History: Marcella was born to Andrew Winslaw and his wife Azura in the city of Remarston. Her toddler years were filled with loving attention from her parents and she was a very sweet little girl although somewhat stubborn and persistent. Her parents weren't wealthy, and her mother was ill from an unknown illness, but she and her younger sister Sophia got along just fine and would spend a lot of time playing together.

When Marcella's grandfather Rahl came into her family's lives, things started to change. She noticed from an early age that Rahl made her parents uncomfortable, though she couldn't imagine why as she believed he was a very nice man. He was ambitious, he knew what he was doing, and unlike her parents he had the wealth to do as he wished. He took a special interest in Marcella, seeing her potential with her intelligence and her interest in bettering herself. Perhaps he hadn't realised that Marcella wished to please him because he would shower his wealth on her in the form of gifts, but he was pleased none-the-less that she was a willing student.

Although Rahl wished to give both Marcella and Sophia a tutor, their parents didn't allow it. Andrew believed his children would be pressured like he was in his youth and he didn't want that. He said that as parents they could teach their children well themselves. However, Rahl knew that neither of Marcella's parents were very educated, despite his attempts with his son, and he took on the responsibility of tutoring Marcella himself. From age seven, Marcella knew basic mathematics and could pen words out in exquisite handwriting (so long as she could get the spelling correct). Her mother taught her needlework and she took it on as a treasured hobby.

As she grew, she started to realise that she had a way with words. She could get many people to do as she wished, even her parents and Rahl. It seemed the only person she couldn't manipulate with her honeyed words and big green tearful eyes was her sister, Sophia. The two started having fights and soon Marcella resented her younger sister for her sharp wit and fighting words. She confided in Rahl, which made her grandfather favour her even more, almost coming to despise Sophia much to Marcella's delight.

When Marcella was twelve years old, her mother abruptly died. The shock made her father retreat into hiding and her sister with him. If it hadn't been for Rahl, Marcella would have felt quite alone. Although frustrated at her parents for not willingly helping her to continue her education, she loved her mother and the shock sent her almost over the edge. When Rahl wasn't about, she would wander the streets of Remarston and slip her fingers into people's pockets or purses and take whatever she could. The trinkets she kept, and the money she used to buy herself clothes and perfumes. Life went on this way for some time, she fell in love with one or two boys along the way, but finally the third anniversary of her mother's death arrived.

Her grandfather announced to her family that they were going to move out of their tiny hovel of a home in Remarston. Marcella was delighted with the concept, believing they were to move to one of Rahl's massive estates, but her joy was crushed when it was revealed they were to be pioneers into the Rosemore Valleys. There were no cities there, no beautiful silks or perfumes, no crowded markets, and hardly any people. How was she to marry well there? How was she to continue her lifestyle? Why would her grandfather do such a thing? And why had her lethargic father agreed!?

She hated the months-long trip over the mountains into the Rosemore Valleys. The carriage ride was bumpy, their food was restricted to rations, and stealing was hard as there was nothing of real value that she wanted from the others travelling with them. To pass the time, she demanded of her grandfather that he teach her accounting so she might have something to do when they would finally settle in the village. He taught her the very basics.

Along the way, Sophia told stories she had heard about the silent owner of the lands, Sir Rosemore. There was little known, but the way Sophia told the stories, Marcella started to develop a crush on the mysterious landowner. He commanded the silent Rosemore Guardians and she couldn't help but feel that a man like that held great power and perhaps wealth. If no one in the village was suitable for her, why couldn't she aim for him? Or perhaps a son, whoever was rumored to be in that elusive family... in the end she wasn't certain who exactly she had a crush on, but she knew she wanted to marry into that family. Sophia thought it was hilarious, much to Marcella's disdain.

Finally arriving in the village, Marcella was distraught that they were forced to continue living in the carriages and tents while buildings were erected by the tradesmen, her father, and grandfather. She stuck to the carriages to work on her needlework until the Winslaw manor was constructed enough for the family to properly move in. Now she spends most of her time either sitting on the porch doing her needlework or down in the basement used for banking, also often with her needlework. She enjoys going out to watch the tradesmen continuing their work around the town, and often fantasises about Sir Rosemore and what it might be like to be the wife of such a man.

She also has started harbouring a true hate for her sister as Sophia seems to be settled into Whiteford very happily. Marcella has been heard to threaten her sister a few times, argue, and some of those fiascos have even ended in Marcella throwing a vicious slap in Sophia's face although no return attack is given.

Married? No

Has children? No
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Postby Kotorchix » Sat Dec 28, 2013 10:45 am

Surname: Royce

First Name: Brandon

Gender: Male

Age: 43

Personality: Brandon speaks his mind and never pulls his words. Due to others reactions to this, he mostly remains quiet, unless he needs to say something in order to get it done right. This makes him very rough and sometimes intolerable when working with. Stubborn and hardheaded, but not without a code of honour.

Appearance: He stands at only 5’9 and his limbs are muscled, a sign of hard manual labor that he’s been through all of his life. His hands are thickly calloused and show the signs of scars. He’s often seen in a work apron that’s stained. He keeps his hair long, but pulled back into a pony tail that has streaks of gray throughout the black.

Career/Job/Skills: Brandon is a blacksmith and a carpenter by trade.

Brief Personal History: He was raised in a small town below the mountain passes of Ir’yulen. The place was simple situated of nothing but small houses, farm lands, and a small mine. They relied upon each other to provide a living for the people. He learned his trade by his father where they made their tools from what ore they could gather from the mountains and the dense forest to the south. Few visitors ever came through and when they did, rarely did they leave without staying. The place just had the calling of a home to them. It was beautiful if one had to just take the time and look.

Brandon spent much of his childhood in his father’s forge as well as helping him with the repairs to others homes, in turn, they were given food. Brandon had a few friends, but only one that was close. In truth, they were rare when children were of the same age running around due to the smallness of the town.

By age 18, Brandon’s father had retired, or at least let him take over the forge and the repairs within the town and let the man take a much needed rest. He didn’t fancy any of the girls within his own town, so thus he remained with his father.

By age 25, his father passed away due to what the town doctor called heart issues. He buried him at the top of one of the mountains surrounding the town, giving him a view that few would ever witness in their life, in the next life. People began to leave at this point, realizing that their lands were running dry and the mines were starting to produce less and less. Thus, he packed some of his father’s tools and possessions and left with the next cart out of town. He had sat on the back, watching as the place he called home disappeared inch by slow inch. His father would be furious with him for leaving, but Brandon knew there was nothing there for him.

By age 28, he had arrived in the town of Ramarston. There, he found work as a blacksmith and settled into a new life. It was completely different than the slow snail pace of life back in the mountain pass of Ir’yulen. He became great friends with the blacksmith himself.

By age 42, the blacksmith unexpectedly passed away. The blacksmith had two little children, ages 2 and 4, that upon his death bed he wanted that Brandon saw them taken care of and provided a good life. Brandon, being the man he was, swore to him that he would. After his passing, Brandon took over the blacksmith shop, but saw that the children and himself was becoming unsettled at being there, so close to their father and his friends death bed. Nothing was there for them. That was when he found about the Rosemore Invitation. Seeing this as an opportunity to begin a new life yet again, Brandon joined and left to join this.

By age 43, he had helped make the materials as well as help those who needed housing built, making sure that they were sturdy enough to never break down completely and would only require repairs here and there given nothing disastrous happened. Thus, is where he has spent making a new life for him and his new family.

Married? No.

Has children? Yes - Adopted. Thom Marlas, age 3, Jenny Marlas, age 5
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Postby Kotorchix » Sun Dec 29, 2013 4:23 am

Surname: Marlas

First Name: Marianne 'Mari'

Gender: Female

Age: 35

Personality: Marianne is a sweet, honest sort. She rarely creates conflict, backs down in arguments, and tries to keep the peace if she can. She loves her children greatly, but her husband's death has rattled her and she has difficulty focusing. She has slipped into a sort of depression, but having moved to Whiteford she seems to see that there is hope for a future life, even if it isn't the one she had hoped she would live out. Although she is honest, the one thing she will hide is her own pain so others have no reason to worry about her.

Appearance: Mari is a tiny, yet shapely little woman standing at 4'10". Her features are small and delicate and she usually has a cheery smile on her face. Her dark hair is naturally curly and she keeps it tied back in a messy bun most of the time. Perhaps her most striking feature would be her warm, dark-grey eyes. Her skin is lightly tanned in an olive tone from outside work and a few odd freckles are splattered across her face. Although she is small, a fair amount of curve has gone into her figure, creating the effect of an hourglass. Her fingers may have once been dainty but are now thickened with hard work. She still wears her wedding ring.

Career/Job/Skills: She is a housewife and proficient gardener. She considers her main job being a mother, one she thoroughly treasures. She has some skill with creating and working with dyes and paints. She has experience with money-dealing and could easily be a shop-keeper.

Brief Personal History: Marianne, the daughter of a leather-worker, was born in Remarston. She was the middle child out of nine children and grew up in a vast community of family and friends. Her early years she spent in the dyes shop where her father worked, along with several of her other siblings. They were all very obedient children and quickly learned how they were meant to behave while in the shop - if a customer entered, their loud chatter would immediately reduce to whispers.

Mari was taught by her older siblings how to create dyes and paints for their father's shop and soon she was earning her own small wage even as a child. Her father believed that all his children should be directly rewarded for hard work that they put into his livelihood and made certain they all got a certain percentage of his wage if they had worked hard that day. As a result, Mari learned the value of money from a young age.

As she started to reach puberty, her mother insisted she be properly taught how to take care of a household as she was soon coming up to marriageable age. She learned how to clean, cook, and mend and sew clothing. By the time she was fourteen, she was ready to leave home.

Thomas Marlas, ten years her senior, was a common sight at her father's shop as the two men had business dealings. Thomas was a blacksmith, just recently having inherited his uncle's shop and smithy. As Mari blossomed into womanhood, Thomas started to take notice of her. Soon his visits to the shop came more often and the two began to talk. He gifted her with small trinkets or flowers and they started going on long walks for a bit more privacy. Soon their little romance seemed to have no other place to go, they knew everything about each other and they spent so much time together. Thomas forged her a ring from his own smithy and asked her to marry him.

Their marriage was a happy one, their love almost to the point of sickening for any others looking in on their relationship. Mari conceived a child at the age of nineteen, but she lost the baby eight months into the pregnancy. Around this time, another blacksmith started working at Thomas' smithy, a man named Brandon Royce. Thomas and Mari became good friends with Brandon and he was privy to the disappointment and sadness of the couple as even more miscarriages or stillborns happened over the years. Eventually they started trying to avoid having children so they wouldn't have to go through the pain any more. Still, the pair loved each other and Thomas reassured Mari that he loved her unconditionally, even if she couldn't bear him children.

At the age of 29, Mari accidentally conceived again. Bracing herself for the worst, she waited as the months went by and tried her utmost to do everything right in her pregnancy, even though she had tried to be perfect all those other times too. To her extreme delight, a baby girl was born healthy and fit. Her exuberant husband named their daughter Jenny, after his mother.

Within two years of Jenny's birth, a little boy had also been successfully born. He was named Thom, after his father. The two children were greatly treasured and loved by their parents and they grew together as a happy family, along with Brandon Royce who appeared to take a god-father approach to the children. Just after Thom's second year in life, Thomas came down with an illness. Mari took care of him during the week he had it, but there came a day when he asked that Brandon come speak to him in private. During that talk, Brandon called Mari back in. Thomas was having trouble breathing and he had paled considerably. He held Mari and his children close and just cuddled them until he breathed his last breath.

The death had been so abrupt and unexpected, Mari couldn't bring herself to connect with life for a few days. She worked on an automaton system, continuing to do housework and run the money side of the smithy's shop, and was there for the children when they sobbed themselves to sleep. When it finally came time for herself to go to bed, she wouldn't sleep. That was when she let herself cry out all the anguish of her husband's passing. Soon she found she couldn't stand to be in the same bed that her husband had died in, or even in the same room.

She started sleeping in the smithy on the thin mattress beside the forge. Thomas had sometimes slept out there when he had stayed up working too late and didn't want to disturb Mari while she had been pregnant. (She was notoriously grumpy if woken while dealing with all the hormones of pregnancy. It simply wasn't worth tempting fate.) Life carried on like this for a year until Brandon approached her with the possibility of moving away. She was reluctant at first, but when he drew to her attention that the children were unsettled being in a place haunted with their father's memory she agreed. Although she had tried to hide it, she knew that Brandon had seen she was not herself. A change would be good.

At age thirty-five, the small family was settled in Whiteford. Brandon worked on building the village along with a few other tradesmen and volunteers, and Mari started to realise how great it was to be somewhere different. She had never left Remarston in her life, and she would never have assumed her adventure would be without Thomas, but she has started to accept that maybe one day she will be able to move on from her grief. Life is creeping back into her and her smiles have started to become genuine once more.

She helps with the farming around the village, maintains her household, looks after the children, and provides for Brandon the same way she did while in Remarston. She has recently realised that Thomas wished Brandon to remain with the children to help provide for them, and for that she is truly grateful.

Married? No. Thomas Marlas (married 19 years) deceased.

Has children? Yes. Thom Marlas, age 3. Jenny Marlas, age 5.
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Postby Kotorchix » Mon Dec 30, 2013 2:50 am

Surname: Davenport

First Name: Ian

Gender: Male

Age: 22

Personality: Ian is a charming guy, despite his lack of developed moral compass, who is very quick witted but easy to bore and has his attention wanders quickly. He is a smooth talker and generally considered to have a silver tongue to get him out of the trouble he inevitably finds himself in. He takes a very cavalier approach to life and nothing much phases him, including others opinions of him. He is fiercely independent and a trouble maker. His independence does not mean he doesn’t work with others, but he does not need others to get by. He doesn’t get into relationships, while women love the look of him and his roguish tendencies, he doesn’t make them feel needed or special and thinks they will try to tell him what to do if he does entertain anymore than a physical connection with them and thus he could be described as actively single.

Appearance: Standing at 6’0â€
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Postby Kotorchix » Tue Dec 31, 2013 2:03 am

Surname: Winslaw

First Name: Sophia

Gender: Female

Age: 15

Personality: Sophia may appear to be your typical commoner girl by the way she acts and dresses, unlike her noble roots' indications. She has a humour that is sometimes inappropriate and dark-natured, but she often catches herself before she goes too far. She craves adventure, loves writing, and more than anything wishes to create stories and live out her own.

She isn't a conformist and is not afraid to speak her mind, and will stand up for what she believes or for others she feels cannot stand up for themselves. Her distaste for stirrers and drama-queens has led her and her sister into many fights. Although Marcella will often strike Sophia in these arguments, Sophia feels it isn't right to fight someone who really wouldn't stand a chance if she did decide to fight back. She does not come across as shy - the flashing challenges in her eyes definitely do not speak of timidness.

Appearance: Sophia's hair is long and straight with just the slightest wave to it, a light brown color. A throw-back in genetics to her father's mother, she has soft brown eyes. She is five foot five, with broad shoulders and a figure that might some day shape out to be an hour-glass figure. Sophia is slim and slender, but there is a sort of lithe muscle to her body like she exercises a fair bit. While not exactly shapely yet, she has the potential to blossom in a few years into a curvy woman. She has a thick upper lip and her face is dappled in messy freckles; she has a killer, cheeky smile. Unlike her sister, she is not vain in the slightest and couldn't care less what she wears or looks like so long as she's wearing something. Often her hair is tied back in a messy bun or braid. Always with her is her battered and beaten-up shoulder satchel.

Career/Job/Skills: Sophia has many talents and skills, a sort of jack-of-all-trades - for a young woman, at least. She can cook, clean, sew, knit, farm and garden. She doesn't necessarily enjoy all of the above, but she has learned to get past her hatred of household chores so she can help her family. Her true passions would lie in writing, trekking and the arts. She has taken part in painting the village buildings, helping with the crops and livestock, and has wandered off from the village to try and map the surrounding landscape once or twice. Aside from the hunters, she probably has the best knowledge of the lay-of-the-land.

Brief Personal History: Sophia was born to Andrew Winslaw and his wife Azura in the city of Remarston. As a youngster she was notorious for getting into trouble and exploring, often the worst out of the two Winslaw daughters in attitude and behaviour. Her older sister, Marcella, and she used to play at home together while their mother was ill from an unknown sickness and their father worked at the Remarston docks.

When Sophia's grandfather Rahl came into her family's lives, things started to change. She noticed from an early age that Rahl made her parents uncomfortable, which didn't surprise her seeing as she had disliked him almost immediately. She went out of her way to avoid him seeing as she didn't understand why she distrusted him so, and she didn't know why her parents felt so unstable while around him. Even as she grew and he offered to tutor her, she refused and begged her father to teach her how to write so she wouldn't have to learn from Rahl. Her mother taught her sewing and knitting.

As she grew, Sophia's love for reading and writing soon made her spirit more adventurous than it had been already. She would wander the streets and markets of Remarston for inspiration, the hustle and bustle generating characters and scenery for her poorly scrawled stories in little notebooks she carried. She would stay out after dark to see what happened at night, what changes took place in the scenery, and would climb and sneak places others wouldn't think to go so she would have the perfect vantage point to watch all. After discovering her natural affinity for climbing and hiding, she started to sketch with chalk and charcoal and would spend hours hidden away sketching portraits of unsuspecting passer-bys.

With all her time out on the streets, she met street-kids - some of which picked fights with her. At first she just ran, going parkour over walls and buildings to escape them, but soon found that sometimes she had to stand and fight. As a small girl often too small for her age, this was a difficult process and more than once she came home bruised and bloodied, her mother forbidding her to go out again (but that never stopped her). Finally, having had enough of the street-kids bullying her, she struck a bargain with one. She would teach him to write and read if he would teach her to fight. Their deal worked out nicely and he went away with half and education, and she with the know-how of how to deal damage. She never stopped refining her hand-to-hand and impromptu-weapon combat skills, but kept her skills hidden from her family who would never condone her violence or unladylike ways.

The years passed and Sophia's relationship with Marcella started to become strained. Her older sister started to manipulate people around her, and when her honeyed words fell on Sophia's unwilling ears, things went bad pretty quickly.

When Sophia was eleven years old, her mother abruptly died from the sickness. Perhaps her sister's attitude change had been pushing her towards it already, but Sophia suddenly just stopped interacting with anyone in her family except her father. And even then, it took a few months to get up even the desire to speak to him. She avoided everyone and often spent entire nights hiding on rooftops with her notes and sketches, crying for her mother and wishing things were different. The only one who really noticed her absence was her grandfather, but he seemed to think she was off being a little slut - she didn't care for his opinion, nor did he care much for what she was really doing.

During this time, whenever she was at home she took up the responsibilities that had fallen slack with her mother's passing. Cooking was a disaster at first, but she soon redeemed her efforts and managed to cook for the family, sew clothes for herself and repair anything her father needed fixing, and she attempted a small garden outside of their tiny little home. The tomatoes were the only plant that survived, but were often stolen by the neighbours.

Her relationship with her father started to revive when she tried to strike up a conversation with him about an author she liked. She knew that he shared her secret love for writing and hoped to draw him back out from his depression, even just for small moments, by talking to him about something he loved. Much to her surprise, a year after her mother's death, he revealed that he was actually the author she had been enthusing to him about and he had been secretly writing books for some time now. His novels were about adventure and romance and Sophia wished she could grow up to write those stories herself - but having experienced them herself, out there in the real world.

Three years after her mother's death her grandfather announced to her family that they were going to move out of their tiny hovel of a home in Remarston. Dread came over her as she assumed he was going to take them away to one of his country mansions where there would be nothing to do, nothing to see, nothing to entertain. But the revelation that they were to be pioneers into the Rosemore Valleys stunned and intrigued her. Her father agreeing to such an adventure was unheard of, but she was not unhappy. It seemed about time to lurch from their lethargic, sad state at home.

The trip into the valleys went by like a breeze. She brought many books with her from home, using some of her grandfather's money he had allowed them to find supplies they thought they would need for the trip. She had chosen to research Rosemore as much as she could in the weeks before they started the bumpy carriage ride over the mountains into the Veil of Rosemore, but turned up very little. What she did turn up, she told Marcella on the trip over to alleviate her sister's boredom. Much to Sophia's amusement, her stories soon made Marcella develop a crush on whoever Rosemore really was. She hasn't let the matter go even now, finding it highly entertaining.

Despite the trip going well for the most part, one of the pioneering families was lost in the mist. This disturbed Sophia greatly as she had read about these mists. There had been whisperings that they were the last breath of some magic-bearing horror that had once roamed these lands, a fairytale villain. She didn't believe the stories at first, but as they settled into the valleys and named their budding village Whiteford she soon started to wonder how true they were.

Although the mists threw a dampener on Whiteford, she soon grew to love life in the village. She loved the community spirit, the feeling of exploration and living on the edge of something new, something dangerous. She has put strenuous effort into helping build the village, from painting buildings to farming, from gardening to helping out at the tavern with food and drink while the building was most hectic, and numerous other things. Her passion for writing has not died and she often strays from the village to have solitude and write, despite the mists. Her father has grown used to her disappearances and only worries if she hasn't made it home by nightfall due to the curfew.

Married? No

Has children? No
Last edited by Kotorchix on Mon Jan 06, 2014 10:24 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Postby Kotorchix » Tue Dec 31, 2013 7:17 am

Surname: Cutter

First Name: Gorfan

Gender: Male

Age: 54

Personality: Gorf is your stereotypical gentle giant for the most part. Though incredibly strong he would never try to hurt anything on purpose. He loves to work with his hands and thrives in physical labour. He also enjoys the simple companionship of all animals, great or small though he is less comfortable around other people.
He is readily confused and easy to fluster. When he’s flustered he gets clumsy and things tend to get broken around him and then people get mad, causing him to become even more flustered and..well other people make him nervous now. Thus the idea to move out into the countryside where life would be simpler.
Though strong he is not the quickest of wit. He is not stupid per say, just a lot slower than other people which leads others to assume he’s dimwitted. He understands that he can be a big problem for people when he’s around so he tries to hunch down and keep out of everybody’s way. He is always ever grateful to anyone that helps him and he never forgets a debt.

Appearance: Gorf is Big. In every sense of the word. Being a descendant of the ancient Giants, now thought lost as they migrated far from any known society, he has many of their physical attributes.
Gorf stands at about 9’5â€
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Postby Kotorchix » Tue Dec 31, 2013 7:18 am

Surname:Blackwood

First Name: Kerrin

Gender: Male

Age: 32

Personality: To describe Kerrin in one word would be unscrupulous. The man is cunning and opportunistic. Though not above hard work, if he can convince others to do that hard work for him, he certainly will. Though he will often seem like he is helping out of the kindness of his heart, there is always a hidden reason, something that benefits him in some way. Having said all this, he comes across as quite charming to those that don’t know better, his blandishing personality concealing his truer intents.
Though not truly a bad person per say, he is certainly selfish and the only person he might truly be fond of is his companion Gorf, whose simple honesty has endeared him to Kerrin somewhat.

Appearance: Kerrin is of average height, standing at 5’9â€
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Postby Kotorchix » Fri Jan 03, 2014 2:13 am

Surname: Dario

First Name: Liesel

Gender: Female

Age: 20

Personality: In his report that sent Liesel away, her mentor stated that she was “too softâ€
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Postby Kotorchix » Sun Jan 05, 2014 4:51 am

Surname: Daemon

First Name: Brandt

Gender: male

Age: 23

Personality: A serious young man with a highly developed sense of honor and responsibility. Seems much older than his years would suggest. That being said, he is not always so very serious. It is rare, but he will relax and even joke around, particularly when he is around his younger sister or his mentor, Drake. He is fiercely protective of what is left of his family. Keeps a tight lid on his temper; the quieter he gets, the angrier he is. Has spent most of his rather short life looking after his rather fragile sister and trying to follow in his father's footsteps by redeeming his family's name. Wants nothing more than to see his sister in the finery that is her due and taken care of.

Appearance: A handsome man with hawk-like, sharp features and an almost elvin look about him, though he is definitely human. Standing about 6'3", his build is lithe, but muscular, a bit heavier and more muscular than most think of an elf, so any elvin blood (if there's any at all) has been quite diluted. His eyes are a bright bright blue, almost turquoise in color. Despite his serious nature, they always seem to sparkle with a hint of humor… unless his temper is flaring and then they seem to blaze with fury. Whatever his emotions, his eyes tend to mirror them, though it is possible for them to go almost blank when he needs them to. Brandt's hair is long and shaggy, the color of a deep mahogany. No facial hair, though he does get light stubble when he hasn't shaved in a couple days. Prefers being clean shaven. His hair is long enough to put part of the back into a messy ponytail, though he often wears a black hat with a high crown and a flat brim (cowboy hat). Prefers fairly simple clothes, even when working; mostly white button up shirts with a black suede vest over top of that and denim trousers. On his belt sits two sheaths. One holds his prized sword, one crafted by his own hands and the other holds a simple dagger. Has a pair of serviceable (read well worn) black boots with a short heel and more pointed toes.
[spoiler]Image[/spoiler]

Career/Job/Skills: Using the Daemon family's secret fighting techniques, Brandt has made enough of a name for himself to serve as one of the only lawmen in the village of Whiteford, though he can also craft weapons should they be needed and he tends to look in on all the residents on a regular basis. He also has quite the hand with livestock, horses in particular.

Brief Personal History: Being born into a once-prosperous and well respected family that fell from favor has not been easy on Brandt. His grandfather, Malcolm Daemon, not only brought about the family's ruin, but he seems to have tainted their name. Though his father lived in his mother's house, the house of the even more prominent Allander family, the patriarch of the Allander clan made it very plain that he only suffered Gavin's presence because his mother wouldn't allow him to be sent away; he was not responsible for his father's depravity. Not everyone was of that view, however. Gavin made it his mission to restore his family's name, to wipe away the taint his father had painted it with. He traveled the old land, hiring himself as a guard, taking whatever odd job came his way.

During these journeys, he met a young woman named Opal Tralia. The daughter of a farmer, she wasn't of noble blood, but Gavin didn't care. However, when he brought her home, his grandfather wouldn't hear of their marriage. Even when Opal became pregnant, the stubborn old man refused to acknowledge the relationship. So Gavin took Opal away and went traveling once Brandt was born. He had help; his mentor, Drake came with them. Drake had been taken in by Gavin's grandfather as a foster child and been adopted into the Daemon family. Drake is the one who had taught Gavin the secret fighting techniques that had been passed down in the Daemon family since their inception. Young Brandt grew up on the road with his mother, father, and 'uncle' Drake. As a young boy of five, at this point, he thoroughly enjoyed the excitement of being on the road. And when his mother announced her pregnancy, he was excited to have a little sibling.

However, his mother had always been a little bit fragile. And years of being on the road had taken quite the toll on her. Even when they sought temporary lodging for a few months before she was due to give birth, Opal's pregnancy was a difficult one. Having no other choice, Gavin took his family back to his mother's family. By this time, his grandfather had passed away and Gavin's uncle had become the patriarch. Though he had no love for Gavin, Lord Mason took the family in, feeling sorry for Opal and finding young Brandt to be a delightful child. But it was too late. One night, close to a month before she was due, Opal began to bleed. It was only her and Brandt; Gavin and Drake had been gone with Lord Mason, discussing important family matters. The midwives of the Allander family did what they could, but it was too late for Opal. She died giving birth to a premature baby girl, who she named Kala before she died. Brandt was devastated and partially blamed himself because he had been unable to do anything for his mother. When he saw his little sister, he made a vow, like young boys will, to look after the tiny new born as long as he drew breath.

It wasn't long after that Gavin left, on his own. He had been unable to handle losing the woman he loved. Not even his children could keep him there. He asked Drake to look after the two; he planned on restoring their family name, to bring back the glory so that his children would be able to live as they should and not have to rely on the charity of their great-uncle. And so Brandt watched his father ride away. He felt… hollow. But the first letter from his father months later helped the young boy. He was already trying to fulfil his own vow: he never went far from the nursery in the servants' quarters where his sister was. The only time he left was for his lessons from Drake. In many ways, Drake was more his father than Gavin had ever been.

As the years passed, Brandt grew into a handsome teenager and though he would never admit it to himself, he looked forward to the letters his father sent. Gavin had only been back to see his children twice since Kala had been born. At this point, Brandt was almost glad. He got more out of the letters than he did from seeing the cold, distant man his father had become. Each letter seemed to be filled with more hope and always held a promise that Gavin would restore the family name so that his children could be proud. But when Brandt was nearing his 17th birthday, and on the cusp of being able to make his own blade (the final requirement to graduating as a master of the family's fighting techniques), the letters stopped. They sent messages all over, but no word came. It was feared that Gavin had been killed in pursuit of his obsession. It took a long time for Brandt to come to grips with this but eventually, he accepted the fact. By the time he was 18, he had passed Drake's test and crafted his own blade. He was a full-fledged Daemon… for all that it meant at the time. Like his father before him, Brandt was determined to restore their name, to make something of himself and to be able to provide the kind of life his sister needed. Young Kala was a fragile thing, much like her mother had been. She was often ill, and though she insisted upon her right to learn the family techniques, her body was very fragile.

When the Veil of Rosemore opened up and there were calls for settlers, Brandt saw his chance for a fresh start. The only thing that stayed his hand was his sister. She had become very ill yet again and had been battling a severe chest infection for months. They had almost lost her twice. He couldn't risk her and his own vow wouldn't allow him to leave her, even if Drake had been willing to stay there with her. As he wrestled with the decision, something like providence came along and helped him make the decision. One day, while riding one of his favorite geldings over the Allander border, he was met by a trio of riders. A man, a noble by his dress and manner, was flanked by two guards. Brandt stopped and greeted them. As they talked, the noble, a merchant called Gregor Antony, offered him a position. Those who would settle beyond the Veil of Rosemore needed someone to uphold the law, to ensure safety. His reputation as a responsible young man had become well known in the area. Gregor offered him the job, even allayed his fears about his sister. So it was, that after a lengthy discussion with Kala and with Drake, even with his great-uncle, Brandt made the decision and the last of the Daemon line headed beyond the Veil of Rosemore.

Married? No

Has children? No
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Postby Kotorchix » Sun Jan 05, 2014 4:53 am

Surname: Daemon

First Name: Kala

Gender: female

Age: 19

Personality: A lovely young woman with a permanent light in her eye. She is kind and demure with a core of strength. Despite her physical fragility, she is a strong and opinionated young woman but one who does not need to broadcast it for all to hear. Intelligent and cunning, she does not dwell on her infirmity, instead preferring to work around it. To her, there is no point in feeling sorry for herself. To her way of thinking, when it's her time, it will be her time. And nothing will stop it, though she does despair for her brother, who worries so for her. She wants to see her family happy, and a part of her wants a family of her own one day, though she is unsure whether she will survive that long. She tends to get her way, not because she's manipulative, or nasty, but because she's determined and won't often take no for an answer, though she's no fool either.

Appearance: With her striking, almost exotic looks, Kala isn't the customary vision of beauty. She's tall, almost 5'8", and willowy with very subtle curves. Her hair is an odd color; almost teal and she wears it in a short, layered cut that frames her pretty, elfish face. A pair of bright, light green eyes stands out and seem to look through a person, though they hold a kind light in them most of the time. Unlike her brother, her eyes do not betray her thoughts or emotions as often. She had become adept at putting on a brave face since she is so often sick or in pain. Taking after her brother, prefers simple clothing. Solid color dresses over a chemise, with a shawl or long coat are about it, though she does have a few elegant dresses for special occasions. Wears sturdy slippers for everyday, and specially made boots when she needs to do labor outside (if she can escape Drake and her brother that is). There is a slight air of fragility in her looks, as if she could be blown away in a strong wind, though one look at her face will disabuse one of that notion.
[spoiler]Image[/spoiler]

Career/Job/Skills: Though her brother protests vehemently, Kala insists upon working and "earning her keep" as she puts it. So she appointed herself as Brandt's office manager which basically means she takes messages, keeps the jailhouse and office clean, organizes papers, and just generally checks on her brother. She also insisted upon keeping their own home which she shares with Brandt and Drake. Recently, she has begun to teach classes to children in the village and she's found that she really enjoys it.

Brief Personal History: See here for her brother's history.

Though no one has ever blamed her, not even mentioned it, Kala has always known that she was the cause of her mother's death. It isn't something she dwells on, but in the back of her mind, it is always there. From the time she was born, Kala was a sickly child. She was actually lucky to survive her infancy. Plagued by pneumonia , various colds and chest infections, it was a fear that they would lose her. But she proved stronger than that and survived. As she grew, she did grow stronger, though it was obvious that her immune system was not up to par, nor would it ever be. Periodically, upper respiratory infections, bronchitis, pneumonia, and various other ailments would strike. Despite this, however, she maintained as normal a life as she was able to.

She learned to ride horses like Brandt, learned to read and write, perform other duties around the house. She even managed to browbeat both her brother and Drake into teaching her the secret techniques of the family, though she has not crafted her own blade yet, since her training had been interrupted, first by several serious illnesses in a row, then by the decision to move beyond the Veil of Rosemore. Though it never quite affected her as much as it had her brother, the injustice of being blamed for something their grandfather had done before they were even born never sat well with Kala. The chance to start anew appealed to her. Even if it hadn't, she couldn't deny her brother the chance, not with the hope she had read in his eyes.

Married? No

Has children? No
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Postby Kotorchix » Mon Jan 06, 2014 8:50 am

Surname: Daemon

First Name: Drake

Gender: male

Age: 67

Personality: A military man through and through. Though he can appear gruff and a little cold, the truth is, he's a very kind man with a depth to him that is not readily apparent. His loyalty to the Daemon family is unwavering, though it isn't blind loyalty. His loyalty to Brandt and Kala comes more from the fact that he views them as more his than they ever were Gavin's. He raised them, saw to their education, and often comforted them. He's particularly close to Kala, partly because he acted as both mother and father, often playing nurse to her as well. Be that as it may, he tends to let them to their own devices, hardly ever interfering in their lives directly. He considers things carefully and enjoys the small things, appreciating life's little pleasures when they are there in front of him.

Appearance: No one would ever know that he's 67 by just looking at him. In fact, if one didn't know better, one might assume he were in his late 30's, early 40's. He stands at a stocky, well built 5'11" with broad shoulders and almost no fat on him, though his abs are no longer as chiseled and defined as they once were. He keeps in shape by training extensively each day. His eyes are a dark brown with gold flecks scattered around and he keeps the sides and back of his head shaved close, leaving a dark-brown mohawk on top of his head that feathers toward the front. He also seems to sport something that should be a beard but is just perpetual stubble. Tends to wear simple tunics and trousers, things that are easy to move in. In storage, is the armor he wore as Captain of the Daemon guards, once upon a time.
[spoiler]Image[/spoiler]

Career/Job/Skills: Drake is a jack-of-all-trades, though his skills tend to lend themselves to protection. Working closely with Brandt, he coordinates protection for the town of Whiteford, training other guards (though not with the secret fighting techniques) and setting watches.

Brief Personal History: Originally born to Bianca and Jed Grahame, an older couple that worked the land on the Daemon's compound, Drake's life was forever altered when his father succumbed to a kind of wasting sickness not long after his birth. His mother tried, but she struggled to raise him; she herself was quite a bit older. It had come as a shock to find that she was pregnant. After losing her husband, she was a mess. Lord Aiden was a man who cared for the people who worked for him and after being made aware of her situation, he visited Bianca himself and offered to the take the boy, to foster him out. He would be provided for, made an honorary member of the Daemon family, and given the chance and the choice to truly become a Daemon should he wish it later on. Crying tears of regret as well as joy, knowing it was the best thing for her son, she gave him to Lord Aiden that very night. As he grew, his mother made visits with him, but on his 5th birthday, his mother failed to make her normal visit. Lord Aiden went himself to investigate. The patriarch of the Daemon family found the poor woman sprawled out on her kitchen floor. Fearing the worst, he bent down to feel for a pulse. The woman was still alive, though he knew it was only a matter of time.

He was able to get her back to the manor. There, the family physician examined her and confirmed that she was not long for the world. She had suffered a heart attack. The physician predicated that she would leave the world most likely before the day was out. Lord Aiden brought Drake into the room they had placed Bianca. He thought it important that the boy be allowed to say goodbye. As Drake touched his mother's already cold hand, she opened her eyes and turned her head. 'My boy,' she whispered, her voice so soft and weak, Drake had had to lean down to hear her. 'My… boy.' It was the last words she ever spoke to him; having been able to see her son one last time, she could finally let herself go. And with a final squeeze of her hand against his, her weakened heart gave out.

The boy was devastated. But Lord Aiden did his best to keep the boy occupied. He asked him if he wanted to become a Daemon, to become a true part of the family. Some might have said it unfair to ask such a young child after such a loss, but it was what the boy needed. After thinking on it a moment, he nodded. After his mother's burial, he began his training, shedding the name he had been born with. But he knew it was what his mother had wanted for him, it was why she had agreed for him to go and live in the manor to begin with. Drake loved it. He loved Lord Aiden; the patriarch was the only father he'd ever really known. There was a drawback though. Lord Aiden's son Malcolm, a few years older than Drake, was nothing like his father. He was more than a bully even at just 10. The only thing that kept him from bullying Drake too much was that he was proving to be a better fighter. Lord Aiden was not oblivious to his son's nature, but he hoped it was nothing more than a phase. However, as Malcolm grew, he would send him on various missions, trying to season him, to help him mature. But often fathers can overlook obvious flaws in their children. And it was the only mistake that Drake ever saw Aiden make.

Drake saw less and less of Malcolm as the two grew into men. Drake became one of the best fighters among the Daemons, second only to Lord Aiden. Aiden, an older man when he became a father to Malcolm, was getting on in years. Unlike many of the families, Daemon succession did not always fall to the oldest child and they did not need to be blood to inherit. It was whispered about that Aiden was going to change the succession and make Drake his successor. But before he could put it into motion, there was an accident… or at least, what appeared to be an accident. Lord Aiden was thrown from his horse and broke his neck in the fall. Malcolm, only 25, became patriarch of the family. Though there were suspicions, including Drake's about Lord Aiden's death, there was no proof. Drake would have left, being unable to stomach watching Malcom run the house into the ground, if it wasn't for the young woman that arrived at the manor. Her name was Meredith and she was betrothed to Malcolm. The two were never inappropriate, but they became fast friends. After her marriage to Malcolm, there were some problems. Drake almost killed Malcolm after the patriarch beat his wife, even knowing she was pregnant. The only thing that kept Drake out of jail was the fact that his men stood behind him.

Then Malcolm's other depravity was discovered. His treachery of telling family secrets to a young man only to have him executed in an attempt to weaken another family earned him a death sentence and ruined the family in more ways than one. The family fortune went to the wronged family and the name of Daemon was dragged through the mud. Retainers and servants left in the droves. Drake remained. Lady Meredith, heavily pregnant, ran to her father and Drake accompanied her, knowing the once great family he had been apart of would only live through the child she carried. He only hoped the child was not tainted by its father's blood.

Gavin proved to be a delightful child and Drake was proud to watch him grow. He looked upon him as a son and hoped that Lord Aiden would be proud of how his grandson had turned out. But it was difficult at the Allanders, difficult for Gavin to put up with his maternal grandfather's constant disapproval. And then Opal had arrived. Drake felt an obligation to accompany the young couple when Lord Hector refused to sanction their marriage. After the birth of Brandt and then the tragedy of Opal's death, Gavin rode off. Drake saw the children as more his than Gavin's. He went through everything with them, would sleep in the chair next to Kala's bed as he and Brandt attempted to nurse the girl back to health through her various illnesses. And after Gavin's disappearance, he tried to find information, but he didn't dare leave his charges. He trained them as he had been trained by Lord Aiden. When Brandt had grown into a man and then come to him about leaving, about going beyond the Veil of Rosemore, he had let the boy- no longer a boy really- make the decision, and he had followed. He wants to see the two happy, and to see their legacy (his own legacy) live on.

Married? No

Has children? Technically, no, but he has raised Brandt and Kala since they were both very young
Last edited by Kotorchix on Mon Jan 06, 2014 9:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Kotorchix » Mon Jan 06, 2014 8:51 am

Surname: Adena

First Name: Celeste

Gender: female

Age: 35

Personality: Celeste is a hard woman to figure. She knows how to please her clients and knows when to smooze and when to hit 'em where it hurts. Her moods can be mercurial and even mercenary, though no one messes with her girls or with what she considers hers. She does long for respectability or at least the illusion of it, but she keeps that close to her chest. To most, she appears to be a woman who knows exactly what she wants and who enjoys who she is and has no apologies for it whatsoever.

Appearance: She's not a tall woman, standing only about 5'4", but she knows how to make the most of it with heels and how she dresses. A classic beautiful with cornflower blue eyes and golden, wavy locks that look like spun silk, with a smile designed to heat a man's blood at a moment's notice, Celeste is easily one of the prettiest women in Whiteford. She doesn't wear much makeup, preferring a more natural look, though she does pain her cheeks, her lips and her eyelids when the occasion calls for it. Her clothes are elegant and well-made, slightly above what a tavern owner, even a bordello's madame might own. Her jewelry is also of fine quality, and is the only things she actually inherited from her unlamented mother.
[spoiler]Image[/spoiler]

Career/Job/Skills: Owner, proprietor, and madame of the Hearth's Star, the only such establishment in Whiteford

Brief Personal History: Celeste Adena is not her real name. It was a name that she took for herself after her drunkard of a mother finally got her due when a "client" beat her to death behind the latest brothel they had ended up in. Celeste's mother was a whore, plain and simple. Drisella Caine was a hard woman. The only thing that kept her from having another abortion when she found herself pregnant for a fourth time was the fact that the last one had gone wrong and she almost died. Fearing for her own life, she had the child and would have smothered her if she hadn't gotten the bright idea to using her to make money. Not only was Drisella a whore, but she was a grifter and a conartist, a thief and a liar. So young Amy became a pawn and a punching bag to a woman who liked to drink far too much and take out any problems on a child who had done nothing more than have the misfortune of being born to a drunk.

But eventually, the young girl learned. Though she wasn't given much in life, she took what she had (beauty and brains) and put them to far better use than her mother ever had. More to spite her mother than out of any sense of decency, at least at first, Amy vowed to make a more honest living. Sure, selling her body may have been looked down upon, but at least it was an honest night's work and she made many men happy. Of course, not every man was her ideal client. And her mother would often take whatever she could to use for booze. Not to mention the constant upheaval of moving because of Drisella's thievery made it hard for Amy to make any kind of headway. When the client beat her mother to death, it was actually a gift to the young girl. There had never been any love between mother and daughter, in fact, just the opposite. They had loathed one another. So with this new found freedom, Amy cleaned out the little jewelry box her mother had, changed her name and presented herself to the madame of an upscale Bordello in a small but wealthy province in Trelana.

Celeste Adena became an almost overnight sensation. Her singing voice was legendary and she quickly became one of the most sought after girls in the bordello. Even with the exorbitant cut that the madame made from her girls, Celeste soon made quite a chunk. When the call for settlers for the West came, Celeste took it. She had a good amount of money saved up and she knew that settlers would need some… release. She knew taverns, she knew bordellos and brothels of all kinds of quality. And there, she could become her own boss. So she packed up what belongings she had (some clothes and her jewelry) and left. She didn't look back, only forward.

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Has children? No
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Postby Kotorchix » Mon Jan 06, 2014 2:58 pm

Surname: Gus

First Name: Carrasquillo-Volkardan 'Gus'

Gender: Male

Age: 46

Personality: Gus is a very optimistic, cheerful man. Smiling and seemingly happy for the most part, he is a pleasant conversationalist and a great listener. He keeps his bar immaculately tidy and clean and takes great care in making people feel at home. He gains rapport with strangers very easily and has made some good friends in Whiteford. He has very high integrity and keeps information given to him in confidence very close to his chest, though he is happy to divulge un-confidential rumors to the odd person. He believes in honor and despite fathering several children out of wedlock, he attempts to keep in contact with them via letters and sends money. He suffers from insomnia and only gets about two hours of sleep each night (if that), yet never seems to show it.

Appearance: Gus is a very large man, thick with a fat sort of muscle all over his broad body, and stands at six foot four. In his youth he was probably made of fighting material, but in recent years it is obvious he has fallen prey to the pleasures of food and relaxed living. He has a dark brown, greying bushy beard and his dark hair is streaked with grey, also somewhat wavy. It reaches the nape of his neck. His eyes are a trusting dark brown and he has a fantastic smile with good teeth.

Career/Job/Skills: Gus is known in Whiteford as the only local bartender and he works at the Hearth's Star owned by Celeste Adena. He brews his own beer and ale. He is also a fantastic cook and has tried his hand at baking, although it is a new side of culinary arts for him and he is yet to make anything sweet worth selling.

Brief Personal History: Gus was the son of gambling, unmarried parents who decided to grant him the long-winded name of Carrasquillo-Volkardan Gus. He is unsure where he was born or grew up exactly, only that his parents moved around the western nation of Ledak and its surrounding islands very often to escape debts. Gus doesn't remember much of his life with his parents, only that they had a house-boat they used to maneuver their blissfully ignorant life through Ledak's many, many islands.

Gus remembers seeing his father being held down by thugs as they gave him a beating, demanding money he owed them. His father screamed like a coward, saying that he had no money, but they could take his son as payment instead. Gus remembered his mother agreeing, just to get the men to let her lover be. At the ripe young age of eight, Gus was taken into the seething underworld of Ledak's brothels, gambling dens, workhouses, and arenas. Resentment grew in his heart towards his parents at what they would put him through just because of their gambling and he vowed never to let a woman stop him from having love for his own children some day. He would never be like his father.

He was a strong little boy, having spent his more innocent years running and climbing and swimming almost non-stop as he enjoyed his parents' constant travel. Due to this, he looked like he had developed quite a bit of muscle for his age and the man who employed the thugs took notice. His name was Alfredo Contare. He was the head of a drug cartel empire that spanned the islands of Ledak and far beyond, but took pleasure in gambling and the 'finer things in life'. One of these recreational pursuits he savoured was the underground arenas where children slaves would be pitted against one another in battle to the death. Seeing the potential in Gus for this gruelling sport, he started to have the boy trained by his best martial combatants.

Gus learned quickly, but he did not enjoy learning how to wield blades and clubs and spears and other numerous weapons. He was a peaceful child by nature who enjoyed his freedom, and every inch of his time was taken up with training on how to kill people. He knew what was going to happen, but he was but a child and had no hope of escape. His first time in the arena, he was pitted against a ten-year-old boy much larger than himself. When the two met in the middle of the arena, Gus whispered: "If you won't fight me, I will refuse to fight too. We don't have to do this."

The boy whispered back. "It's you or me, kid. One of us always dies, whether we fight or not." Then he struck Gus. The fight was long and brutal and Gus was almost tempted to give in, just to have that freedom of death, the peace of the sleeping dead, let this boy have the victory and live. But then he realised, the boy was never going to fight back. He was just going to keep killing as his masters commanded. Gus knew this was a horrible way to have to think, but he won that battle and many, many others after. Each time, he offered them a chance to stop, but they never did. Each night, he dreamed nightmares and would wake in tears or vomiting, the deaths of dozens of people on his hands. There was no escape, he could only keep killing.

Finally, at the age of fourteen, Alfredo gave him a different kind of battle. He sent him into the arena where a small thirteen-year-old girl awaited him. She held the weapons clumsily, her face was tear-stained, and she shied away from the centre of the arena. Gus gave her the option to let them both back down. He had never fought a girl before. She seemed to consider his offer, her head down and her lip trembling... that was before her grip on the knife changed to that of an expert. She slashed at him, and he had barely enough time to block her attack. The fight was ferocious, she manipulated him into the positions she wanted him, and she was always two steps ahead of him, forever in his head. It was the most tiring fight of his life, but finally he landed a crucial blow on her and she fell, her left arm severed at the elbow.

"Finish her!" the crowds called. But he just stood over her, blood dripping from his blade before he caught her remaining hand and pulled her to her feet. He yelled back at the crowds, cursing them all for making him do this, making this girl do what she had done, making her lose her arm at his hand. The guards came out to drag him out and kill the girl, but he turned on them. The arena became a blood bath. Although he had never fought grown men before, his rage carried him as he slaughtered one after another. Eight guards lay dead in the arena before he was finally subdued and the girl beheaded.

Alfredo asked him if what Gus had done would happen again. He said it would until he was released. Alfredo laughed and said he should just have Gus killed right there, but he changed his mind. He offered Gus a paying job as one of his thugs - it was that or he died like the girl in the arena had. Gus had no choice and accepted the offer.

Jobs were fairly simple for the next year as he grew into more of a man's shape. He was tasked with simple jobs such as collecting debts from locals or being back-up for other thugs with more complicated jobs. After he turned sixteen, he moved up to beatings, targeted killings, and other foul dealings. He hated his life and after a particularly terrible job he was contemplating whether there was truly any real escape from what he had become except death. He decided there was nothing else for him and found a quiet place to slit his own throat.

While kneeling in the hay of the deserted barn, mice scampering across the floor and the blade at his throat, the barn door creaked open. A boy close to his own age wandered in and stood frozen as he stared at Gus. The two remained in silence until Gus lowered the knife and asked why he couldn't be left in peace to die. The boy told him that the wind had brought him to this place and Gus laughed. "Out of all the places in this wind-blown nation, the... wind brought you here?" The boy explained that he was from a religion that revered the Wind. They believed the wind was a she, and they called her Ira. They believed that Ira guided them where they were meant to go in life, and her gentle guidance led them on the correct paths. The boy introduced himself simply as 'Duck' and asked Gus if he would come with him. He wasn't meant to die this day, nor was he meant to continue on his current path. Gus, frustrated and deadened in spirit agreed against his better judgement.

Gus and Duck travelled Ledak for several years. Gus discarded his first name in favor of his last so he would not be recognized if he were ever found by Alfredo or his thugs as a deserter. At first, he found Duck's religion to be very odd and wishy-washy, but soon he started to find things were different. With Duck, following what he called 'Ira's Path', Gus started to feel at peace for the first time in years. He started to associate Ira with freedom. She flew everywhere, was the very breath that the living drew, what wasn't beautiful about that? Gus soon became an Iralite and he and Duck continued travelling together. Soon their travels led them to the ocean and reluctantly, they boarded a ship heading to Astrua.

Neither had travelled away from Ledak before and they were overcome by the ocean with its vast expanses and no land. Gus was often sea-sick and on one particular occasion, the wind blew vomit back in his own face as he chucked over the side. He thought he should take it as a sign from Ira, but wasn't particularly sure what a sign like that would actually mean.

Arriving in Astrua, both at the age of twenty-two, they were delivered by Ira to a bar/brothel. Duck, whether by Ira's will or his own, stayed at the brothel for many nights while Gus remained in the bar, drinking away past memories and contemplating what would happen next. He finally caught Duck one day and asked if they should leave - they would soon run out of money for Duck's girls and Gus' drink. Duck told Gus that he believed their paths were to be broken up - he was only staying with one of the brothel's girls and believed he had fathered a child on her. He said he was going to stay and marry her, get her into a good life.

Saying his good-byes, Gus left Duck and travelled Astrua. He gathered much knowledge along the way about the lands and the people, the myths and mysteries, the rumors about the nobles, the lore and children's fairytales, and worked here and there in bars as a bar-tender's assistant when he ran out of money. He had a natural knack for mixing and pouring drinks and several of the men he served even passed on trade secrets on how to brew beer and ale. Finally, he decided he would open up his own bar and inn in a city called Remarston - the very city he had first come to. He was the age of twenty-six when he finally got the bar up and going. Duck, his wife, and little son would come in for drinks occasionally and all seemed to be going well.

Then one day, Alfredo Contare himself walked into Gus' bar and plonked himself down on a stool with two of his thugs. Gus was terrified, but realised that his bushy beard and at least another foot of height might hide his past identity from the man. He served them drinks but did not stop to talk to them and tried to busy himself with the few other customers. They asked for rooms and he set them up for the night. He couldn't sleep, as per usual, and very early in the morning of the next day, he sneaked up to Alfredo's room and struck him so he was paralysed for a few moments. There, he shaved his beard off and dumped the bushy remains on Alfredo's chest before taking the knife he had used to shave and holding it to Alfredo's exposed throat, the man's terrified eyes bugging.

"I promised myself I would never kill another living being after what you did to me. But I am not above taking away the life of a man who has children kill one another against their wishes. I can't even find it in my heart to wait for you to regain your voice so that you might have some last words."

He killed Alfredo and assassinated his two thugs. He then took their bodies and buried them beneath his bar's basement for the rats to nibble on. But he was not at peace. Ira had left him and his bar started to loom over him like the arena as his nightmares came on in true force and he was left sleepless for nights at a time. Finally, he sold the bar and started moonlighting at any tavern that would take him. He kept moving, wishing that Ira's peace would return but it didn't.

He started to take solace in the arms of whores, but this soon proved to be a bad idea as it seemed every single one he touched ended up pregnant - and when he employed an alchemist to discover if every one of these children born were truly his, the alchemical results came up positive. He sent sums of money to these children and their mothers often, and started sending letters for them to read when they were old enough. He stopped seeing whores seeing as his 'luck' with fathering children on them just seemed limitless, no matter what steps he took to ensure it wouldn't happen.

No matter what, he felt he could not stop travelling to new places in search of Ira. He had too many children to settle down with just even one without putting the rest out financially with his nomadic ways, but he figured if he were to settle and work, he might have enough money to do so. But he was not ready to settle. He hadn't found Ira again. The winds were very still and he felt she had abandoned him. He almost returned to the sea in search of her, but finally she called him. He started travelling the eastern roads below the mountains and working the bars there.

Suddenly, the mother of one of his children died and his son came to find him. The two met up and Gus started training him in bar-tending, the only thing he really thought he could teach his son. Still, despite the hiccup, he still continued to follow Ira, dragging his son along. At the age of 45, he caught wind of the Rosemore Invitation and felt that it was Ira's call to finally settle down and make a living.

He and his son have settled within Whiteford quite seamlessly. He has not divulged his history to anyone, not even his son. The only things he will say about himself are that he once worked the arenas in his younger days, and he has had over twenty years experience in bar-tending.

He met Celeste Adena and offered his services as a bar-tender to her which she gladly accepted. He lives in the back rooms of the Hearth's Star with his son and a little girl who lost her family in the mist, her last name Cumber. He has found his peace, and gladly provides food and drink for the residents of Whiteford.

Married? No.

Has children? Yes. Multiple children. He sends money to those he knows of. He has taken the little Cumber girl under his wing.
Last edited by Kotorchix on Thu Jan 09, 2014 8:58 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Kotorchix » Thu Jan 09, 2014 8:43 am

Surname: El

First Name: Markas

Gender: Male

Age: 24

Personality: Quiet, serious, sensitive and kind. Do not like conflict, and not likely to do things which may generate conflict. Loyal and faithful. Extremely well-developed senses, and aesthetic appreciation for beauty. Not interested in leading or controlling others. Flexible and open-minded. Likely to be original and creative. Enjoy the present moment. But much of this is hidden underneath a constant drunkard state and if he isn’t drunk, he avoids encounters with most people.


Appearance: Markas stands at roughly 6’4 with a lanky build and naturally thin with just a little muscle to his frame. His head is cleanly shaven as well as his face, smooth as almost hardly any hair ever grew there. His features would seem plain, except for a set of strikingly light brown eyes that hold a little gold sprinkled within. He is often wearing only colored linens, simple yet efficient clothing. He is often barefoot.

[spoiler]Image[/spoiler]

Career/Job/Skills: Miner, stone work, sailing, and is an exceptional artist.

Brief Personal History: Markas grew up on a small continent to the North of Astrua. The place was simple, yet very violent in it’s people. Several different tribes had their own areas, but they often fought over control and power. Each child grew up in this nature, fearing for their lives, while at the same time trying to survive. The tribe that Markas was raised in wasn’t the biggest nor the most powerful within the land, but they did hold precious metals and ores from the ground, so they held the advantage in steel, mostly in weapons, than the other tribes. It was the only way that a smaller tribe could keep from being wiped out, their weapons were just superior. Markas learned how to fight when he was young and throughout his life, he has witnessed some great acts of murder and killing than he’d ever care to witness again. As a right of passage, they had to sneak into another tribe and murder in their sleep. This was a common occurrence throughout all of his life and before he left, he had started to have nightmares and hauntings of his mind of the murders and killings.

He left the first chance he got, which ended up being upon a pirate vessel, which at first was part of a slave, then as a worker upon the same ship out of luck. He served upon this for several years, before he started to see the same type of things that he had bore witness to all of his life before. During one of the sailings, they encountered another pirate ship, and the vessel he was upon was destroyed. Braving the waters, Markas ended up on Astrua. It wasn’t long before he heard about the invitation to Rosemore and he jumped at the thought of having a place he could settle and leave all of what he had experienced throughout his life behind.

Married? No

Has children? No
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Postby Kotorchix » Sun Jan 19, 2014 3:13 am

Surname: Williams

First Name: Elinor

Gender: Female

Age: 29

Personality: Elinor was once a lively, spirited young woman. Making other's laugh was her top priority, and she was always ready with a joke. She lived for adventure, and wanted nothing more than to find an equally passionate man to explore with. Unfortunately, when her first love died, she became an entirely different person. She grew quiet, and the laughter and sparkle disappeared from her eyes. There were no more jokes. Life became about business rather than adventure, and while she continued to do the work that once brought her so much joy, it was no longer because it made her feel alive, but because there was nothing else for her to do. She is a no-nonsense woman, who uses few words but always manages to get her point across.

Appearance: At five foot, ten inches, and one hundred and forty pounds, Elinor is an average shape for a woman her age. Many might believe she is quite a bit older, however, as her skin is deeply tanned, worn, and leathery. Her almond-shaped blue eyes hold a pain that only those who have lost a loved one can truly understand. Long ago, her blonde hair fell in perfect spirals around her heart-shaped, porcelain face. Now, that unblemished white face is gone, and her blonde hair is generally pulled back in a messy ponytail. Her preferred outfit nearly always includes dusty riding breaches, and worn, brown leather boots.

Career/Job/Skills: Elinor is exceptional when it comes to working with horses. She is the owner of the town's livery, and she specializes in catching and breaking horses. She also boards horses for those who cannot keep them on their own property, and occasionally gives lessons to the children who wish to know more about horses. With her job comes a basic understanding of many things horse-related, including blacksmithing, saddlery, and veterinary medicine.

Brief Personal History: Once upon a time, Elinor was the belle of the ball. Though her parents were not exceptionally wealthy, they were respectable people. They sent Elinor, their only child, to all of the parties in the surrounding counties. She socialized with all the eligible bachelors nearly every single weekend, but none of them pleased her. They were offering her a cushy life with financial stability. She was a hard headed, stubborn woman who wanted spontaneity and a whirl-wind romance without losing her sense of independence. She found all this one unforgettable evening, when a stable boy caught her flighty horse after she was bucked off outside of a party. She thought it was love at first sight. Much to her parent's dismay, they eloped and ran away together. Their destination? Rosemore, a place which promised adventure and a fresh start.

Not long after they arrived, the young stable boy went about building the town's first livery. His extensive experience with horses made him the perfect candidate, and Elinor's love for horses and her husband meant she would work with him. Catching wild horses on the range, breaking them, and selling them was incredibly exciting to her. They remained madly in love, working side by side, until the day he came down with pneumonia. The day he died marked the first day of her month of mourning.

When she finally came around, she attacked her work with a renewed vigor. She continued to catch, train and sell the horses by herself, refusing to hire extra work (bar the occasional young boy who offered to muck stalls for a couple of extra pennies). Elinor remained well-liked by the rest of the town, both because of her own perseverance, and the people's respect for her late husband. Still, some wonder if she is deeply bitter because of her wasted youth.

Married? No - Husband is deceased.

Has children? No
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Postby Kotorchix » Sun Jan 19, 2014 3:54 am

Surname: Cumber

First Name: Lucy

Gender: Female

Age: 7

Personality: What people saw of Lucy before the mists took her and her family was very different to how she is now. She was once energetic and chatty and constantly running about with her siblings getting into trouble. Now she refuses to or simply can't speak. She is secretive and shies away from any direct contact with people, but they interest her and she will happily spend hours just watching people. She is a curious girl and often just up and disappears no matter day or night. She holds no sense of responsibility to anybody and does not make her intentions clear before she carries out acts.

She is obedient and helpful, but she craves solitude. Although the mists are dangerous, she will venture out into them without a thought. Gus, her guardian, has forced himself to stop worrying about her. If he restricts her from leaving, she just goes dead on him - her eyes dull, she behaves in a morbid manner, and mopes about as if she has no purpose. He feels she is already a depressed little child very lost in her own mind so he feels giving her free reign is the best thing to do, despite the dangers. She survived the mists once, maybe she was searching for something.

Appearance: Lucy is small for her age and has very cute childish features. She has big blue eyes and curly black hair cut into a boyish style which stops at the nape of her neck. She wears the clothes that Gus provides for her and often decorates herself with flowers she finds while exploring.

Career/Job/Skills: As a child, Lucy has no real job in Whiteford. However, she is known for trading flowers, herbs and any odd things she finds while exploring for a coin or two or something of equal value. She helps out around the Hearth's Star downstairs with Gus.

Known History: Lucy was daughter of a baker, Arin Cumber, and the middle child of his five children. While on the trip into the Rosemore Valleys, she approached the Marlas children and would occasionally play with them (the only reason anyone knows her name is Lucy is because the Marlas children knew). It was on that same trip that she and her family were taken in the mists. It isn't known what happened to Lucy while she was out there, but it is assumed by many that she saw her family die. A Rosemore Guardian found her and brought her back to the caravans and all she would say was 'They're all dead'. Since then she hasn't spoken a single word.

Gus took her in immediately and attempted to get her to speak again but his efforts were in vain. She remained inside the caravan Gus was driving until they reached Whiteford and then secluded herself in the back rooms of the tavern until one day she ventured out into the mist. Gus had been frantic to find her, but she came back unharmed and seemingly more settled. Recently she has taken to exploring further abroad, occasionally bumping into Whiteford's hunters - she never explains herself.

Married? No

Has children? No
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Postby Kotorchix » Wed Feb 05, 2014 7:13 am

Surname: Mhyriron

First Name: Hhielsohan 'Hhi'

Gender: Male

Age: 18

Personality: Hhielsohan Mhyriron, or simply 'Hhi', is a half-elf. He is a gentle, soft-spoken boy who is easily pushed about due to his compliant nature. But beneath his soft, almost femininely meek exterior, he seethes with anger and frustration. Bitterness at the unfairness of his heritage leading to his appearance of looking like a girl leaves him feeling sour and he is rarely in a good mood - not that anyone would notice. Like his father, he hides his thoughts and feelings behind a great smile, but he cannot replicate his father's generally friendly countenance. He does not want to be in Rosemore, even if it is a new beginning for him - he feels trapped in the Hearth's Star with his father. He may have the beginnings of depression.

Appearance: Hhi is a very pretty boy. Being a half-elf, he inherited a fair amount of his mother's elven genes and as a result looks very feminine. He has a slender body which moves smoothly and snake-like in its elegance, which indicates he is an amazing dancer. Only naked would one realise he has muscle toning. His hair is long, silken and golden-white, his features long but beautiful, and his eyes a vibrant, dangerous gold speckled with orange. He looks nothing like his father, much to his chagrin.

Career/Job/Skills: Hhi works at the Hearth's Star as his father Gus' assistant bartender, waiter, and cook. In recent months, it has become clear to him that Celeste Adena sees some promise in him to join her girls upstairs as 'one of them'. He feels resigned to his lot in life and feels that joining them is inevitable, although it is not where he would like to see his life go. Although he has tried to keep his talent hidden from others, he is a dancer. If he had his way, he would be back in the bustling cities performing on a stage.

Brief Personal History: Hhi was born to an Elven Mistress named Ynnessial Mhyriron in a vast city in the south of Astrua called Allafen. His mother, a well-known and wealthy prostitute, bedded a man named Carrasquillo-Volkardan Gus which was the moment of his conception but he did not meet his father for many years. As the son of an Elven Mistress, Hhi was to be raised much like any other children in the brothels. The women groomed him to look like a girl and found that certain circles rather liked him, but they planned to keep him from those certain parties until he was of age and able to make his own choice.

He was one of the only male children in the brothel, but like the young girls he learned to dance. It was not to please anyone, however. He found that his body just responded to music, heard or unheard, like a beautiful swirling storm and he loved it for the dizziness and solitude, just lost in the flow. He fell in love with music and dance and dreamed of one day becoming a professional performer. But it was not to be.

The southern district of Allafen went up in flames one night. Bandits had raided from the southern edge of the city and poured in, raping and pillaging and killing as they went. The city guards didn't get there in time as the brothel was destroyed and the prostitutes dragged out into the southern forests by the bandits, among many other prisoners. This attack was called The Blazing of Hungal - named after the bandit chief. Hhi was about fourteen when this all happened and found himself targeted by several of the bandits who had seen him dance while frequenting the brothel under more respectable circumstances. Hungal himself stopped the men from acting on their lust and had Hhi join him in his tent.

He knew Hhi was a boy despite his feminine dress and behaviour and taunted him. He made Hhi cut his hair and dress like a man, rub the make-up off and then returned him to the bandits who had been gazing at him lustfully believing he was a young woman. All quickly lost interest except one, and Hhi attempted to fight as the bandit dragged him off into the woods. Much to his surprise, his hand landed on the bandit's dagger and without realising what he was doing, he spilled the man's guts. The murder shocked him but he buried the dagger and quickly returned to his mother, pretending nothing had happened. Later that night, there were whispers in the camp of a bandit being attacked and eaten by wolves. Hhi remained silent.

Hungal came a few days later to the tent where Ynnessial and Hhi were being kept and told Ynnessial that she was to satisfy him while her son watched. She refused to do anything in front of Hhi but said she would cooperate in private. This didn't seem to please Hungal and he caught her throat, starting to crush her windpipe. Hhi leaped forward to stop the bandit but he struck Hhi aside and choked Ynnessial to death. He then attempted to desecrate Ynnessial's body but Hhi took the dagger from Hungal's belt and severed the bandit's spinal cord. Hhi fled the tent in tears but was caught before he could leave camp.

When it was found what Hhi had done, the next man in line for chief gave him a dagger and drew his own. He challenged Hhi to the right of chiefhood and Hhi abruptly realised what had happened. He had killed the head of a major crime organization and as the killer he had the right to challenge the next-in-line for the position his victim had held. Hhi knew he would never survive the fight so he threw the dagger at his challenger's feet and ran for his life.

By dumb luck, the dagger struck the new chief and cut off two of his toes, halting his pursuit of Hhi. The other bandits quickly gave chase and Hhi sprinted through the woods like a wild deer as he avoided them. He lost them and returned to Allafen, finding the brothel in ruins. However, in what used to be his mother's room, he found a sealed metal box. Taking it to a blacksmith, he was able to unseal it and inside found a letter from his birth father and a large sum of money that was meant to go towards taking care of Hhi. Determined, he started to track down his father as now he was the only thing left in the world for Hhi.

He found Gus and gave him the letter and much of the money as proof. Gus returned the money and agreed to Hhi travelling with him. Hhi had dreams of meeting performers on the road and parting with them, but he had no such luck and remained with his father as they travelled to Rosemore.

Married? No.

Has children? No.

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