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[Psych]

What's with all the assassins?

Also Slave I noticed something.

While the nation originally was based on a true democracy. The nation eventually gave rise to three wealthy merchant families, that now pull all the strings behind the working of the nation. Bribery and slavery can be found throughout the nation, with the nations motto being "Everything has its price."

Edited June 8, 2011 by Psychic

[Jaybee]

Chapter 3 has to be called Assassin's Creed.

[Nanami Touko]

Wow, almost everyone's parents are dead Robin xD

[ReformBlade]

What's with all the assassins?

Also Slave I noticed something.

Congratulations on quoting...? I don't get what you're trying to point out.

[roymbrog]

Judging by JBCWK's reply I'm guessing it has something to do with that game

Wait, unless it was about the assassins, which makes much more sense frankly.

Edited June 8, 2011 by roymbrog

[Nanami Touko]

I think it was about the assassins.

[Parrhesia]

[spoiler=Rakael]Name: Rakael

Gender: Female, 29

Class: Guard

Affinity: Air

Weapon:

Facebreaker Her prized bastard sword. Has seen more combats than most peasants have had cold, dystopian dinners.

Kite Shield Rakael is skilled not only in protection but also in using her shield to hit you really hard with the other hand. Its very existance is a taunt.

Axe Sometimes, you have to go that extra mile to kill some guy. In two hands, this axe is the most efficient way to do so.

Mace Never bring a mace to an armoured fight. No, wait, that's wrong...ALWAYS bring a mace to ANY fight.

Greatbow But sometimes, you just need to shoot a guy in the face. Rakael does not excel at ranged combat, but knows enough to get by.

Dagger For confined spaces, and possibly for dual wielding. For desperate situations, you want a dagger.

Unarmed Combat In desperate circumstances, kicking people really hard in the teeth works wonders, sometimes.

Nation of Origin: Melorem, Astarte.

Backstory: Rakael's origins are bland and uninteresting. She is just another of the illiterate, repressed lower class of Astartan society to turn to mercenary work to pay the bills.

Rakael happens to be particularly good at it.

So good, in fact, that she managed to escape the damn place. A few connections, an underground passage and she was done with the Empire forever. Well, she hopes.

For now, she wanders from place to place, trying to seek work from the utterly immoral bastards in Sapphire lands. Right now, she waits in Reinaldt, far from starvation but rather uncomfortably close to subsistence contract killing.

[ReformBlade]

Finally, another female Guard! Approved, with a bag of chips and a bag of holding.

[CT075]

Posting this as a plot-important backstory character, he's deceased so don't worry about me bringing him in all Chuck Norris-like.

Name: Worsay Risdryn

Gender: Male (aged 42 and deceased)

Class: Guard

Affinity: Wind

Weapon: Aleonys (Quake Axe) (See Teis)

Appearance:

Nation of Origin: Astarte

Backstory: (This passage is the last written entry in the pages of this man's journal. Teis could not find a way to open it, and therefore left it in his father's old bedside table back in Miyan.)

The following information is all that I wish to tell my son, Teis, after I have passed. If anyone is reading this, it means I am dead and the Crimson Witch has returned to the world.

I am a simple mercenary, and that is all I have ever been. In my day, I was a renowned mercenary at the age of 34. It was about this time when she who calls herself the Devourer rose to fame. I personally admired her accomplishments and her zeal for life. And yet, when she disappeared for the bounties she had upon her, it was I who was contacted to help kill her. A childhood pal of mine, whom I had taken for dead came to me, asking me if I would help out an old friend one last time, to rid the world of the Devourer once and for all. Of course, I leaped at the opportunity. Such a deed would propel me to the forefront of our profession. Yet... after that three-year adventure was said and done (I will not waste my time explaining how we did it), I was given only the most minor credit, as I did not want to be burdened with fame and fortune so soon after I had received knowledge that my child (that is, yourself, Teis) was alive and his mother was dead. Having ensured the future of our family name, I retired to Miyan, where my only joy in life was teaching my son how to fight, and watching him become a more worthy axe-fighter than I. If you ever are to lay eyes upon this writing, Teis, you must know that the axe you wield is the legendary Aleonys, or the quake axe. I did not tell you because that would place you in danger of the gravest kind. Even know, I can feel death's black shadow fall on me. I am convinced that the disappearance of my dear friend, and of the corrupted nobles was the work of the Crimson Stand, that evil cult of the Devourer herself. They are dressed in robes of black, the higher and higher officers wearing robes with increasingly more crimson-colored stripes. I believe that they, having secured the death of those who are most directly responsible for the death of their master, are now targeting myself. So on this day, the third day before your eighteenth birthday, Teis, I shall leave you my axe, the only token of my greatest success. Guard it well, for it would do much evil were it to fall in the hands of those with evil in their hearts.

My only wish is that I may yet speak these truths to you in person, so that you may never have to deal with the legacy of your foolish father by your lonesome. But alas, that is not to be, for even if the Stand were not to kill me, I feel the passage of time more roughly than ever. Goodbye, my son. Go forth with the blessings of Worsay the Earth-breaker, and allow no mountain to stand in your path.

Further notes: Worsay was killed two days after Teis's eighteenth birthday by a man in black robes with crimson-colored flames drawn all along it. It is speculated that his killer is one of the higher-ranking members of the Crimson Stand.

Edited June 11, 2011 by Camtech075

[Sakusa]

Name: Seilynda

Gender: Female (16)

Class: Guard

Affinity: Wind

Weapon:

Cross Spear: Your basic, military-issued spear.

Dirk: Also sometimes referred to as a short sword. Another ordinary, military-issued weapon. She prefers not to use this.

Buckler: An ordinary wooden buckler. Nothing to note.

Appearance: Long, waist-length red hair, grey eyes. Slender, lacking womanly assets, lithe.

Nation of Origin: Alifer, Sapphire

Backstory: Seilyndra was born into a poor peasant farmer family. Her childhood wasn't anything spectacular, and nothing traumatic really happened to her. She grew up believing that anything can be achieved via hard work, and she worked just as hard as the adults and her older siblings from a young age. As her family was experiencing a particularly bad harvest one year, she decided to enlist in the military, since she thought probably wouldn't be able to settle down and become a bride, since her body doesn't look like it's matured at all. The military of Sapphire would pay much more than the pittance her family earned, and despite their grievances about having a female soldier in their ranks, her hard work and experience with a plow led to her becoming a decent soldier. A large portion of her earnings gets sent back home. She hasn't been able to make her way back home for a few years, but to her knowledge, her parents are still staving out the winter in their shack.

Currently, she is stationed in Reinaldt, where she is keeping watch on the town.

Edited June 11, 2011 by Rathian

[ReformBlade]

Oh man, another female guard? Accepted, like a cookie from an oven.

also, the previous dude's diary/backstory is verily accepted.

[Jaybee]

Name: Danyon

Gender: Male, 27

Class: Fighter

Affinity: Wind

Weapon:

The sword Danyon received for his 18th birthday. An amazingly light blade which is used mostly for slashing techniques, but stabbing works as well.

Danyon carries this around in case he can’t fight up close. It’s not his favourite weapon, but it suffices when it really needs to be used.

The horse Danyon rides when he goes into battle. A brilliant white stallion, taken from the stables of the Windol house itself.

Appearance: [spoiler=So I don’t stretch the page]

Nation of Origin: Ensaria, Lushira

Backstory: Born as Daniel Windol, Danyon was born into a wealthy family in Lushira. From young, Daniel was taught to act like a gentleman and to defend himself, learning everything he could from his father. This included lessons in swordplay and archery, something which Danyon’s father hoped his son would enjoy as a sport.

Yet, it was a boring life. Daniel longed for adventure. He didn’t want to be spoon-fed everything in life, he wanted to do things his way, to govern his own life. So, a few weeks after he turned 18, Daniel took the sword he was presented, enough money to last him for a few weeks and a horse, and ran away.

He didn’t stop until he reached Astarte and the castle of Gerhelva. To hide his identity he changed his name to Danyon and removed his surname. He also started taking on mercenary-like jobs. The work was dirty, and it wasn’t always pleasant, yet it was fun, something he’d always wanted for himself.

Nearly 10 years later, not much has changed. He briefly attempted to create a mercenary group, but it didn’t have a happy ending. He’s recently been toying with the idea of doing some travelling, to see more of the world.

Danyon’s stubborn to a fault, yet he’s quite the womanizer. He doesn’t accept much criticism of himself, though he doesn’t hesitate to give negative remarks to others. He’s sarcastic whenever an opportunity arises. He attempts to push himself to be better than others, though that usually doesn’t end up very well. He also has a brain better than most of the common populace, which has also made him into a decent tactician.

He doesn’t really have an aim in life, per se. He’s just living out a boyhood dream of independence, and loving almost every second of it.

Edited September 24, 2011 by JBCWKitty

[ReformBlade]

Eh, sure why not.

[ReformBlade]

Name: Ignatius

Gender: Male (68)

Class: Fighter

Affinity: Ice

Weapon: Barehanded/Claws

[spoiler=Appearance Pic]

(Roughly 9 feet tall at his full height for reference)

Nation of Origin: Shuthra

Backstory: Caught in an experiment fifty years ago, he is one of the first Anri in existence. Brilliant in his own way, Ignatius was different from the rest of his people, some say he was insane even. Ever since the explosion, his life has been plagued with questions, questions that he can only answer himself. "Why?" He is now almost cursed to try and find out why things are the way they are. Now he scours the continent for answers to various questions, often shooed away by the populace due to his imposing visage though he's actually a gentle being.

[NagafenOfIlivikitty]

Name: Langley Astute Aokkoa

Gender: Female (24)

Class: Fighter

Affinity: Wind

Weapon: Broadblade - A weapon that is in the style of a broadsword, like those of noble descent, her blade is unique in being a one off, crafted for her mother before her birth. When she was born, her mother told her that she had the blade by her bedside; for fear that someone would come and take Langley away from her. She had said this blade was crafted to protect her loved ones and that it was up to Langley, wielding the blade as well, to make sure she used it to keep that promise, to not die and to never fall before her happiness came true. The weapon is name 'Broadblade' not Broadsword as its edge is finer cut, the same technique to create sharper weaponry such as the curved weaponry of the warriors of Myan or similar, used to craft the blade itself.

Nation of Origin: Shuthra, Chaldron.

History: Her history was convoluted before she was even born. Because to tell Langley's story, we have to know the story of her parents. Langley's mother, a woman named Dlareme Aokkoa, was a high profile slave merchant, choosing to spend her time capturing Anri and selling them off to the highest bidder. She found no happiness in it, she just needed money. When you leave in a nation where a well placed word at a high profile ball or dinner can make you a life or condemn you to death, her mother had seen what it took to live within her own country. Langley's grandfather, Cosei, had been 'misplaced' as the local officials had once put it, some time after Dlareme's birth and her mother, Serry, had also been 'lost' on a walk home from her local market.

It took Dlareme's mind a while to process the odd sounds when she was tiny, the day she'd heard her father scream and struggle as men came in the middle of the night to take him away. It also took her some time to figure out the cry she had heard when her own mother had vanished to be indeed, her mothers, all that was left an empty wooden basket as she had walked outside, curious.

After this time, Dlareme, at that moment, seemed destined for either poverty and obscure death or simply the workhouses, the places where people go to make goods and die doing so. And she did, for a time, sent with utter confusion as to why her mom and dad weren't coming with her, to work at making garments for noble men and women, children her own age, set to sewing and if she deviated for even half a minute, a lash to keep her on track. Soon she began to find her happiness from her early years had vanished, replaced by a quiet red feeling, red being the colour she thought it was, she'd eventually discover was hate.

It was when she was sixteen that something was done on her part. She ran away, taking that precious half a minute to head outside and dash into the woods, running and running. And that's when she met an Anri, named Garlion. He was... well, a lion styled Anri, his form rather bulky, young himself as at this point, the Anri's birth in history was only recent. She had met the growling, quite pained Anri and she had seen his injury, a gash from an encounter with... well, a disagreeable pack of humans, he put it. She was frightened out of her mind, yet she could not help being fascinated by this man, his eyes quite like the fires you see smouldering in those traditional fireplaces. She would take about another four years, four years after she had spent that day tending to his wounds and telling him about what had happened, what her life had become and of her parents, of a small house that, though poor, always had that feeling of home, her father, though grumpy, always willing to listen, her mother resolutely firm when she was naughty and deeply kind when she needed a hug. It took four years after he had, though to her horror, suggested that he willingly come with her as her 'slave', so that the money made from his sale could give her enough money to begin a secure life. So yes, four years before a fateful day, she tried to ignore the odd sick feeling in her stomach, leading him into the town and going straight past the guards that had originally come to take her back to the warehouse, their faces lined with shock.

Four years earlier, she'd stood in front of a merchant salesmen, her cold eyes eyeing him up and as she had tried to barter a low price for Garlion, his growls had grown more and more irritable, until her eyes became fearful, Dlareme's own quite shocked as she was offered, to be honest, a small fortune to herself, though possibly a meagre sum to others. She had seen him led away after holding a bag of solid gold coins and wondered what that hollow feeling in her chest was. That was the last she would see of him for four years.

Over the years, Dlareme's eyes grew tired and her heart hardened, regularly needing to take slaves to them to keep her money afloat. She always saved some though. So many crying, that was certainly worth that growing bag, to growing chest, to growing cupboard of coins. She stayed within the woods, having bought these objects and hidden them within tree's, within the ground, always careful to hide them. She watched many crying Anri and angry Anri, who viewed her with hate and had long since learnt to hide how much it tore her soul to tiny pieces.

So it was four years later, with enough money that now, a small fortune had become, indeed, a fortune, that she finally saw what it was she wanted. And with the one she had, after all, the price of a life and indeed an Anri's, was high to merchants, with the skills of capture, of hiding, of defending herself from those brigands and villains who had stalked the woods for an easy 'ride', she said goodbye to it all. She took out that chest and that cupboard, having bought with a small amount, a horse, saddled up the money and petting the horse for putting up with the weight, she rode outward, to beyond Sapphire. To the mage nation of Shuthra. To where she was hated, known as the 'Forest Witch', less for magic, more for kidnapping those who simply wandered within the woods and soon found a life of vanishing and slavery ahead of them.

She rode out past the forest, past mountains, tired and alone. She rode out to a town that overlooked nearly the sea, to a place where she could maybe find out what forgiveness meant. But the town shut their doors to her, knowing of her, enough images pieced together by the few she couldn't quite capture, the little Anri she couldn't quite bare to ship away or take. So she sighed to herself and went to the towns head. He tried to profess his honour, that it was not right to have someone like her here. Yet surprisingly and rather sadly, she found shifting a treasure chest of gold in front of him made an offer for a house quite easy. She also made sure to take a copy of the land deed, her eyes resolute as he had balked at that. It was, in essence, her only proof that this land was hers now and she would keep it.

She was there for a half year, in a relatively small house with still enough gold to last her for the years end, when he came back. He was wounded, not seriously, but enough that he limped in, the mane that sat on his head stained with blood and across his mouth and chest. His eyes blazed with anger that day and he arrived at her home, her eyes having jolted awake. For Garlion returned that day and now he knew what the girl he helped had done these past years, he couldn't help but feel a fool, feel anger trail through him as he snapped and roared at her corruption, her gall to keep doing this just to have a 'house by the seaside' he called it, her body standing firm while her mind reeled in panic. Yet it was about this day, now, why she realised she'd been feeling so hollow all these years. And it was, as she said, as he paused quite steadily despite himself, not because selling Anri hurt her... she felt his anger reach fever pitch. Yet her next words stopped him cold. She said that it was because she had the faintest hope that every time she tracked in that forest, she'd see him, maybe find him again. Each time she sold an Anri, the tearing of her soul was not just from committing such an act. It had been both tremendous and yet, slightly, a relief. It was because she hadn't found him again, feeling she never will. And she was glad, she had said, because as now had proven, if he had seen her again, she wouldn't look at him with those eyes of four years before, wouldn't see the girl he'd liked enough to help. And he felt silent, because he was in turmoil.

What transpired was an odd exchange indeed. He had gone silent, yet suddenly burst out that he would remain here for three months, to see if she could keep away from returning to such actions. Her eyes had quietly looked down, nodding at that, yet she felt an odd confusion, why he had any urge to stay.

Over those months, the town gradually saw more of the woman they despised. And against their better interests, mainly due to the little ones she had spared actually talking to her, thanking her for letting them go, their minds bright enough that hate didn't quite blot them yet. And she would feel pain as some told her their parents had gone into the forest or that the people they'd known vanished when they went inside and she'd sit there, silent before telling them what she'd done. She'd see confusion and anger of the youngest kind and she'd feel her heart torn over again and again as she would return each day with some new hate born in younger forms for her and to see such happiness render apart. And he'd watch, silent, as if torturing her with every word he didn't say, just staring from narrow eyes of red.

And so she'd work the most minor jobs for the town, cleaning gutters, washing windows, delivering food to others, silent and feeling stretched as she was looked on with disdain, never truly forgiven. So he watched her leave and go do this, again and again, saying nothing, doing nothing. It was one day when she had been delivering food, when her basket had spilled and she had apologised as much as she could as an Anri woman, in her early fifties and able to remember the experiment that had made her this way, vented all her anger on this girl, her child quiet as she had heard what happened to her father. She screamed at Dlareme and screamed and the woman flinched back, unable to muster defence against what she had done. And that's when he'd roared, roared and came over, pointedly telling this woman that not only was her husband safe, knowing him, having helped him escape with him that day, covered in blood, that this woman was showing all of her want to help, to gain forgiveness, she was breaking herself apart just so everyone here could get a piece of their own, personal vengeance. And he shouted it at them, at the town, those who came out surprised by his calls and his words, unwilling to believe them. And now, Dlareme sat, shaken, wondering if she'd ever feel like she could defend herself when she felt this disarmed. Yet he had scooped her into his arms at that point, carrying her home, her eyes watching him in quiet surprise. His wounds had long healed and now he had laid her in bed, letting her rest and telling her not to move, before heading into a room where she had kept her money, the cupboard caked in dirt and mud having been the one thing she'd returned to find, once months ago. And he'd returned carrying a sheet of paper, one she'd hidden within the cupboard, holding it up pointedly, explaining that he had found it slipped from the cupboard, by her bedside when he'd checked on her. She froze and knew what that sheet was. It was a list, of the names of Anri she'd captured, remembering the growls and sniffs and crying, the names they said as she'd written them half-heartedly. And so he told her that maybe someday, as she had gone absolutely silent, these names could be rescued and their lives returned to them. She just sat, trying not to cry, asking why he was helping her like this, why first he was angry, now he was so gentle. And the answer came when the large lion man sat on her bed, cupped her cheek with alarmingly sober eyes and drew her into a kiss.

It was at this point; you've met and seen how and why Langley's parents, Dlareme and Garlion, fell in love. It began out of an encounter of misappropriated help and truly opened up when her eyes became opened to her own feelings and he realised that despite her life and how she'd spent it, he didn't care. He loved her for her want to try above all, to be a good person even if your past isn't exactly saints and graces. And yes, a human and Anri couple caused most of the town to react with mixed horror, curiosity and in a few children's cases, excitement as they wondered what there children would look like.

The year of Langley's birth was a difficult one. The village was, after Garlion's speech, a little less blind to how much Dlareme had helped them. Indeed, her help had both slightly boosted the amount of free time parents, individuals and the town had in general, plus with the presentation of the list by Dlareme, much to her own nervousness, to the town, she talked about the idea of rescue and helping those she'd sold. She warned however, reprisals could be met. So she was surprised, especially with the town's response to her earlier, that many both wholeheartedly approved her going, some even saying, for the first time, thank you for her help. So it was that she and Garlion sometimes alternated, sometimes travelled into other countries, liberating slaves in silence and trying very hard to right the wrongs committed. She had, with Garlion, rescued at least twenty slaves and five of them were of the town itself, resulting in a joyful reunion for a few families and finally, absolution for her soul in regards to them, yet she had taken close a hundred in her years working the slave trade, so she knew she was only a quarter of the way. And all throughout, Garlion silent felt pride in her, pride in her want to help and abet and her souls strength when it came to working through hate from those she'd hurt, just to prove she was different from their perception.

So it was towards the years end, as now with the blacksmith of the town, a grinning wolf Anri named Aret forging her a blade he promised 'could cut the darkest bond, let me tell you', that she was surprised to find her armour didn't quite fit anymore. It was not just that, she finally, somehow, noticed her sickness of recent wasn't from bad food as Garlion had, grudgingly, learnt how to cook basic meals, so he could cook tasty dishes when he tried. So she was surprised to find, that somehow, she'd been so caught up in seeking forgiveness, that she was pregnant. And Garlion, worried, wondered how an Anri and Human relationship, could affect the baby inside her. So it was at the years end, as she sat in their home with her newly forged blade, Broadblade, by her bedside and her growls enough to both impress and slightly scare Garlion, that she found the local doctor, one who was professed in magical arts and of a basic knowledge in healing, helped her through the birth, eyeing her sword quite quietly and yet thanking her for the return of her son, with a silent smile. Slowly, she eased her through the birth until finally, after much screaming, pain, growling and Garlion panicking.. a stunned Dlareme held her little girl in her arms, a slow silent movement of tears she couldn't actually feel. And Garlion, a loving nuzzle amid his beloveds hair, following, felt his own tears, silence and smiles as they cradled their daughter, naming her Langley Astute Aokkoa. Her first name was actually the name Dlareme had wanted if she ever found a kitten, which made Garlion eye her with an almost playful silence. And Astute was the name of Garlion's father, Dlareme eyeing him back, asking how appropriate is a boys name for a girl, at which he huffed, responding that her mother could match any man, any woman could. Her smile was silent, murmuring 'good' as she had felt truly equal with this man, her Garlion.

Langley grew up quite happily, her early years filled with utter laughter and contentment. Her father she loved playing with and indeed, tugging on his whiskers and mane, watching him slowly growl in playful resentment. He could be fierce when angered though, such as when she was naughty or hurt others through not thinking. She remembered when she'd called an Anri girl strange looking, yet her father had asked her, angered, why she didn't find him strange looking. She had said because he was her daddy and she wasn't her mommy. So he explained to her of kindness, of looking at someone not for their appearance but for their heart and the way they acted to others. So to show herself she understood, she nervously walked up to the Anri girl she felt wary of and asked her name, while the Anri girl, while revealing her name, her own nervous nature easy to see, said hers was Noel. So it was when they started talking about the sky, beautiful things like random moments where you just laugh for no reason, why baked things taste so good and what their parents were like, that Langley made her first and to this day, best friend. Noel herself was a dog like Anri, with quite floppy ears, and a snout, and had quite black and white patchy skin, which Langley always gazed at in bright wonder. Noel would always feel quite confused and wondered why she thought her skin was so pretty to her, but she'd just say it was good because it was different.

Langley's mom, Dlareme, lost none of her strength, as when Langley again hurt others, such as a boy she'd punched as she was turning nine for saying mean things about her mommy, she found that Dlareme angrily told her that she could defend herself and that her daughter shouldn't worry over what people say when they're clearly idiots. Yet she was extremely kind to her when Langley's good side showed, such as the day she made friends with Noel. She had been so happy, Dlareme's smile bright as she heard of her daughter having no problems making friends with someone who was Anri. So it was as Langley grew from small girl, to slightly rebellious teen who'd run out at late hours or early hours,, practicing sword play with her moms sword without saying or simply going for long walks with Noel without warning, that they realised, quiet and sadly silently, that one day their daughter will leave. And with sadness, they slowly began to accept that.

Langley never showed many traits of her father in terms of physical, which while he could admit, was slightly disappointed, he was wondering if anything of his transferred at all. So he was surprised when one day, she was found unconscious by Noel, her eyes both scared and an odd thing, something that looked happy. So she was found and saw nothing evident, bar a long, quite thick tail poking from under her dress, a plumed, furred section at the tip, he had to try hard not to grin so much. Yet even as she awoke, Langley felt happy to at least have one visible connection to her father and they talked for quite a while after that, about how Garlion's family had been all human and yet at the day of the 'Accident of Magic' he called it, he was made into this, so young. His family... were unbelievably kind, he told her, hiding him from prying eyes and refusing to sell him to slavers or kill him for simply his existence. So when he'd left, years later, he found that they had felt sadness as he'd left, had truly been a good family. One day, he told her secretively, when he'd rescued her mothers mother and father, her grandparents, she could meet his parents and show her what more brilliant kindness looks like. She happily stated she couldn't wait, which was the truth.

Bar this, she has a slightly stronger body structure, as shown when minor cuts, grazes and bruises would leave quite quickly, that when she had, when she'd little, started a fight with another boy who had called her mother 'dirty and rotten', she'd been punched back, yet when asked where it hurt by her slightly angered mother, she said what hurt? Her body could take a hit really well, but as shown when she'd accidently taken a good hit from Noel's practice blade, when they'd been practicing one day, she takes normal cuts quite as most do.

As she became twenty three, years on, the town had seen her mother occasionally disappear and reappear with another Anri in fear and tiredness, happily reunited with a loved one, or sent ahead to other towns of the country. Her father was the same, very tired and sometimes, small cuts across him, yet the same, an Anri with fear and happiness. With a slow happiness growing, the town had begun to become less and less hostile to Langley's mother over the years, yet Dlareme was shocked when finally, Langley asked for the truth on why it was that her mother kept vanishing and reappearing, why her and her father had been doing this at all.

And finally, Dlareme explained to her daughter her life. And as Langley first grew angry with her mother, furious that her first action was to sell her father, then silent and a small happiness at hearing of her attempt at redemption, to heal what she had done and to see her parents first true meeting… and slowly embarrassed as she heard of her own birth and then, focused on what her mother did to help those who needed it, her father who had carried this task with her mother, she asked to help. First, Dlareme went red and stoutly said no, growling it was not her burden to carry. But her father, gently moving in and holding her mothers hand as Langley, shaken but resolute, a mirror of her mothers will, told her that it wasn't a burden to try and save people, to save anyone from slavery and fear. So as they talked through the night, through to day as she tried so hard to prove she could go... she was surprised when finally, in the break of morning, her mother hugged her tight, her father kissing her cheek and also tickled the skin with his whiskers as finally, her mother handed her Broadblade, Langley silent and quite shocked as she whispered thank you and that she would guard herself, hugging them and the flat of the blade to her.

Noel took it hard, murmuring why she couldn't come, why could she not come and fight which made Langley angrily say this wasn't her journey, sounding hypocritical in her head and yet scared that if Noel came with her, she'd die. She die and feel her death so hard, it would destroy her. So she wasn't surprised when Noel angrily told her to go and see if she cared if she ended up dead, shaking and leaving for home, tail still in anger. And to Langley, she has yet to see Noel again since leaving, her heart pained with her friend still blocked from her heart.

It was when she left on the day, though, that the anger, if not the barrier, was broken, Noel silently moving to her and hugging her as Langley, clad in a dress that was sewed by a local seamer and gentle white, pauldron and cape noble in appearance and making Langley feel very insecure with such beautiful clothes, held tight onto her friend and whispered she'd be back one day, a hug of her parents, kissing them both goodbye with a quiet smile, ignoring quiet tears. She hefted Broadblade as they both waved her off, Dlareme silent but smiling, trusting in her daughter to handle her destiny. Garlion proudly felt his daughter's strength would carry her forward to wherever she needed to go. He chuckled softly, pitying the slavers she would encounter. And Noel smiled... yet she silently vowed something, silent and unsaid, to be discovered another time.

And from that day on, the adventures shifted to Langley's shoulders, her path set ahead. She has managed to free, to her knowledge, seventeen slavers, Anri, some humans, any who need her help and nearly getting caught herself many times, still shuddering as one time, she was almost threatened with being put into a Sapphire Brothel if found. But she continues onward, travelling all across the continent with just a list of people left to her, to free those on there and give them a happiness they deserve.

Edited June 16, 2011 by NagafenOfIvalice

[ReformBlade]

Jeeeeeeegus. Approved? Yeah, approved.

[ReformBlade]

Name: Aiduen Willard

Gender: Female (18)

Class: Caster

Affinity: Wind

Weapon: Staff, mainly for self defense, never used for serious combat.

Appearance:

Nation of Origin: Lushira, Belenos city

Backstory: A priestess of the Goddess in title, she was born into a relatively wealthy family, filled with plenty of Anri slaves. She never questioned it, since she never saw them as objects nor did she see them openly disciplined by her parents, in fact, she saw many of them as friends, often playing with them in her free time. Her life was carefree for the most part, her parents sheltering her from the harshness of the real world, until she was 14 and caught her father torturing one of her best friends. She was quickly told to leave, her father warning her to just forget that she ever saw the deed, that it'd be better for her in the long run. She complied, running to her room, wanting to cry. All those marks, scars and bruises, and they were all happening underneath the very roof she was under, from her own father. Her brother, Arcen, caught her as she was running, wondering why she was crying so much, angry at the explanation. He wasn't to fond of the Anri, and he knew they were slaves, but his anger stemmed from how his father dealt with the whole thing. They both took a few days to cool off, Aiduen concocting a plan to set them all free, weeks after the incident. In the middle of the night, when her mother and father were asleep, she woke her brother, and told him what she was planning, hoping to set the slaves all free and run away from home. Arcen honestly had expected this and was actually already packed for the trip, gathering a large sum of money, plenty of food for the two of them and the slaves and a weapon on his person. Aiduen carried only her staff that night, not wanting to take more than was needed.

Crossing the border to Shuthra, she told the slaves to go, run as far away from the place as they could, A few tears flowing down her cheek due to parting with many of her friends, though she knew deep down it was the right thing to do. The slaves thanked her, and she gave them blessings. That day, she and her brother began wandering the continent, doing mercenary work where they could, and only if they felt it was for the right reasons.

AND

Name: Arcen Willard

Gender: Male (21)

Class: Fighter

Affinity: Wind

Weapon: Agnol, a sword his father bought for him when he was 15. Said to have been used in a great war ages ago.

Appearance:

Nation of Origin: Lushira, Belenos City

Backstory: While Aiduen was a priestess, Arcen was merely going to school, learning everything his father had to learn in order to succeed him. He didn't particularly care to do so, but he wasn't against the idea of inheriting his dad's fortune either, so he went with it. He wasn't the brightest kid in his class, in fact, aside from basic combat training he was often given passing marks due to his name and heritage instead of earning them, and when he finally found that out, his respect for his dad dwindled. He never told him anything, always kept him in the dark, even the slavery going on in his very own household.

He watched his sister let the slaves go on that night, extremely proud of her determination and of her kindness, and he swore that day to always be there for her. Ever since, they've both been wandering the continent as mercenaries.

Oh man, IDK if these will be approved...

Edited June 18, 2011 by SlaveBlade

[Nanami Touko]

HMMM, I DUNNO IF THESE TWO SHOULD BE APPROVED...

[Caliban of Sycorax]

Name: Adano Havel

Gender: Male, aged 46

Class: Guard

Affinity: Thunder

Weapon:

Enstrost:

Appearance:

Nation of Origin: Astarte

Backstory: Orphaned at a young age, Adano found himself fighting early on in his life. He fought for food and shelter, and for money. As he grew up on the streets he slowly lost hope of making a name for himself. At sixteen he attempted to kill himself for the first time by slitting his throat with a knife he found. He was stopped by an older swordsmith named Sevan, who gave him some coins, a sword, and some bread before heading on his way. Adano was touched by the man's kindness and followed him back to his home in Leticia. He became Sevan's apprentice, doing most of the manual labor the old man could no longer do for himself. Adano lived above the shop and used the sword Sevan gave him to train every day.

A few years later, a Myan woman came to town to challenge all of the swordsmen. Adano, excited to meet one of the mysterious women of Miyako, challenged her to a duel, which lasted over an hour. When both combatants realized they could not win, they began a mutual friendship. The woman in question's name was Anastasia, a young and beautiful swordswoman whose skill and pure battle focus was impressive. Adano found himself becoming more and more attracted to Anastasia by the day, eventually resulting in one night in which the two made love for the first time in the woods.

Adano was overjoyed with the news that Anastasia was pregnant with their child. He had always wanted to be a father, and prepared by selling his weapons and equipment in order to have some extra money to take care of the child. Anastasia always was hesitant about talking about the baby, and Adano could sense her hesitation in her voice. He tried to convince her of all of the benefits they would have from having a child, but it seemed Anastasia was unconvinced. She broke the news that she wanted to return to Miyako and give birth to their child and raise their child in her hometown. He wanted her to stay and argued with her for many days on the subject. All he wanted was to live with the woman he loved.

The night she planned on leaving he tried one final time to ask her to stay, even going as far as to propose marriage to her. When she was unmoved, he tried harder, tears forming in his eyes. She appeared to be moved, but suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. She had stabbed him and ran off into the night. As he fell, the memories of Anastasia flooded his head.

He awoke a year later in Sevan's smithery. The wound Anastasia inflicted was more damaging than first imagined. The best healers from around the continent were called in to try and heal him. Although they managed to heal the wound, he remained unconscious for a year. When he woke, he knew nothing about his time with Anastasia or their child.

He spent many years living as he did before meeting Anastasia; his life was as if Anastasia never existed. The injury from Anastasia had impeded his movement such that he could barely walk. Sevan forged him a special spear that he could use as a makeshift cane and also use in battle if necessary. During this time Sevan accidentally let slip about Anastasia. Intrigued about this mysterious woman, Adano pressed Sevan to tell him more. Sevan revealed everything that happened during the years he spent with Anastasia, as well as the time he spent unconscious.

Adano was shocked; he'd forgotten about Anastasia and their child. He became curious about the child's identity: Was it a boy or girl? What was their personality like? Would he ever see them?

Determined to know the truth, he left in the hopes of reconciling with Anastasia. However, unable to enter the female-dominated Miyako, he turned back and instead headed toward Sapphire, in the hopes that one day he would meet his child.

[ReformBlade]

Could be interesting. APPLOVED

[Anti-Social Meta Knight]

Name: Gideon Ringner

Gender: Male (22)

Class: Fighter

Affinity: Fire

Weapon: Axe

Personality: Blunt, somewhat lazy, and a bit of a complainer. Has a soft spot for very small children, but he finds the rest (6-13) annoying.

Appearance:This, but not in a school uniform. 6'2, 197 lbs.

Nation of Origin: Lushira

Backstory: Gideon was the only child born to a poor farmer and his wife in Martel de Feal. A bright child, he was raised by his father to value diligence and the beauty of farming. Needless to say, Gideon wasn't impressed by his father's passion. It seemed mundane and pointless to him to do the same thing day in and day out, and so at the age of sixteen he left for Albion without a word to his family. It came as an unpleasant surprise to the boy that most work that would take a kid his age in Albion was just as mundane as farming. He worked odd jobs to sustain himself while he searched for something that seemed interesting; it was then that Gideon found banditry. At the time, it seemed incredibly glamorous to him: lots of traveling, apparent brotherhood, and best of all, no rules. Sure, you got your hands dirty once in a while, but you lived by the strength of your arms and the force of your will. Being a teenager, his naïveté was in full swing, and he was quick to insert himself into the underground of Albion, where he used his loud voice, blunt honesty and brute strength to catch the eye of a traveling mountain man who went simply by Fish. Within a month, he was on the road to Shuthra as a member of a wanted gang of criminals with Fish at the head.

At first, the brutal methods Gideon was ordered to use did not trouble him; the hype of being a free man with real power was enough to soften the impact of what he was doing. It was in Indolcure that he started to become aware of the type of man he was becoming. The eighteen-year-old Gideon was sent, alone, to torch the crops of a man who had insulted Fish in a tavern. As soon as Gideon saw the wheat and corn begin to burn, he felt a stab of regret, something he was wholly unfamiliar with - never had he held himself accountable for anything. But this was his work. Even if Fish had told him to do it, he had agreed, so he was responsible. He tossed a coin at the man's door and walked off, deciding then and there that he was a free man, and not anyone's lackey. At least then, he figured, he would never have to answer to anyone or do anyone's dirty work.

For the next four years, he traveled around Shuthra, working when he felt like it and surviving off of charity when he didn't. In those four years he never held a single job for more than two months - when he got tired of working a certain job, he stopped and moved on. His disdain for diligence and his refusal to work on a farm remain strong to this day. Prior to meeting Carrion, he was jobless, having just left his job as a lumberjack in Jalden.

Edited August 25, 2011 by Anti-Social Kitty

[CT075]

This person deserves in. HERE, HAVE A LETTER OF RECOMMENDATION:

"R"

[ReformBlade]

Approved...

[NagafenOfIlivikitty]

And the trinity is complete.

Name: Carrie Arthuria Leslie

Gender: Female (19)

Class: None. (As of yet.)

Affinity: Earth

Weapon: Carrie has no weapons. She is a regular girl who focuses rather on her own social universe and feelings, her enviroment and her life, rather then set out on adeventures to slay evils and drink ale and stuff.

Nation of Origin: Astarte, Gelhelva

Backstory: Carrie is just Carrie. She has no magical powers or super secret past. She was born to her mother, a happy and very intelligent market stall owner named Deseree Carlyle and her soon husband Clyde Leslie in the town of Gelhelva and grew up with a rather happy, if mundane existance. Her mother sold fish and foodstuff with gusto as she watched her haggle, threaten on ocassion, be fair, be a tightwad and give to those who easily couldn't afford it. So she gained a good grasp, from seeing people beg, cry, threaten, argue and thank her mom back, how to at least sustain a conversation with people, or cut it off when it became something she didn't like. She trusted her mom and her mom trusted her, somewhat, to mind the stall when she was sick or needed to run errands and so she grew up with some knowledge as well of retail enviroments. She does, admitedlly, find this a bit too exciting sometimes. Capatalisim Ho is not exactly her catachphrase, but it's growing on her.

Her father didn't teach her how to fight, his attitude a bit too old fashioned when it came to that. That and he was a watchmaker, so it was hard to teach fighting to his daughter when he didn't really know himself. So without this knowledge, she is basically a civilian in both combat and regular aspects. So she isn't exactly a positive in a fight. But she will not lie down without a fight and so will lash out with strikes, fists, bites, everything she has to her person, sticks, bits of furnitiue, blunt objects and sharp objects.

Carrie's journey begins with a day that is quite unlike most others. For Carrie has not watched the store, gone to hang out with the local teens her own age or simply tried another, small attempt at learning swordplay. Which she isn't doing too well with at the moment. No, she's bored. So she's began the day quite unusually. A satchel with a bottle of light medacine, some bread, cheese, a book which contains nothing as it's pages are blank, a diary that formulated as an idea, a purchase with some spare money her savings had offered her and finally, an ink bottle and quill. Quite fancy indeed. So, the point of this?

Carrie has left, her note to her parents reading:

To Mom and Dad.

I'm going to go exploring the world.

I know you don't think I'm up to it and to be honest, my heads having doubts too. It's an awful long way.

Still, it sounds interesting. So I thought I'd try. It's not like much can go wrong, with everything you both taught me.

I'll see you both again. And then again, when I get back, I might be a bona fide world explorer.

Or just me with a bit more knowledge. I'll see you then.

Your Carrie.

She is walking to the country of Shuthra, feet tired and her wobbles growing, yet the border isn't as far as most, her home on the border between nations. Yet it is with quiet ignorance and a belief that it's just a walk. Perhaps she'll turn back soon, she thinks. But what is about to follow isn't going to be as simple as that.

[ReformBlade]

Sounds cool. Don't fuck it up.