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Yeah, I was planning on going back over it to grammar check and fix it up a bit, as I wrote it late last night after a rather tedious math test. My apologies for the small errors.
I have a bad habit of capitalizing things I shouldn't. A habit I should really break. I will go through and fix the theurgy and gramarie words.
Hmm, alright, I will find another way to dispose of said character from the past. I do want it to be an encounter with other humans though, as it is crucial to Circel's past being the first time using his magic against a human enemy. Following along the idea of being up in the mountains, would a bandit (or whatever word would be proper for it) ambush be acceptable of some sort? On the note of his heritage: yes, that is indeed what I meant. I was trying not to get very technical with the terms and make the idea as simple as I could. I didn't mean to confuse on that point.
This is mostly done, but I need to finish the background. Hope everything so far is okay~
~
Name: Nimael "Dust" Gryphus
Race: Feiri
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Personality: "None of you seem to understand. I'm not locked up in here with you. You're locked up in here with me."
Dust is a woman recently enlightened, having broken away from years of servitude into a mind that she doesn't recognize, but has a myriad of experiences that she needs to get used to. She's used to all of the horrors of violence, and shared honor between a group of people, but has a somewhat immature view of the world as a result. She doesn't know how to separate lies from the truth, for the most part, or understand why a person would lie, which leaves her on the edge of sinking into cynicism or optimism, with need of somebody to guide her through to her own conclusion.
There is one constant that has been with her through all of her experiences, and that is combat. It's something that she can hold and understand immediately, which leaves her with an unwavering courage and something of a cocky attitude thanks to the company she has kept in the past. She won't claim to be right in any situation, intervene with anything involving tactics or moral quandaries, or even doubt a person's claims of their own skill. She is humble in all things but combat, and will accept it being pointed out, but if somebody attempts to diminish her role in something, she will prove them wrong with a swift defeat; but not murder. She doesn't trust herself to judge when most people should die.
Despite the issues that plague Dust, including her inability to decide for herself, there are some inherently good aspects about her person. She's capable of love, as it was the first thing she remembers acting upon. She's capable of intelligent understanding, as is inherent in most of her race. And she's loyal; she only has one true friend so far in life, but nothing can break the bond they share.
She only bathes when there is nobody around, which means she needs to head to a nearby river if she's currently in civilization.
Appearance:
Dust's is a face that would appear quite pleasant, were it not most often held in a slight sneer or simply expressionless, or framed by brunette hair not cut with a blade meant for killing. She wears no make-up or adornments other than those of her armor, adding to her simple appearance that can swiftly turn into a killing grimace. Soft curves make up her oval face, from the petite nose that sits above slightly pouty lips to the slender arch of her eyebrows that sit above similarly chestnut eyes. Even fewer scars or blemishes mark her olive-tinted skin, save for a stern gaze, for she's never allowed herself to be marked by blade, spike, or club. Some common ticks include flaring her nose when she's about to get angry, double-checking her stance and equipment, and tapping her fingers.
Dust's body is lean muscle all over, packing strength and flexibility across her lithe and feminine form. In addition to standing taller than most, at a lofty six foot, she possesses a swift movement and demeanor that can often intimidate those who just watch her movements. Everything has a purpose, as she was trained to possess, and although she doesn't want to intimidate those around her, her mien has a way of producing that effect. She moves in such a way because of her training in Sublimity, which is where her physical control truly shines. Those who have the honor of watching such a graceful combatant, especially her, will often either flee for their lives or be dead before they can talk about it.
The fine sheen of Zurine constantly adorns Dust's torso, layered in such a way as to provide protection for her center of mass and line the important parts of her limbs. Thick strands of Ferrelegni are wrapped around each other and woven beneath the Zurine, serving as a bolster to keep her armor attached and a second layer of protection to cover the third; some Aerelium male that can sometimes be seen through the second layer of protection. Besides that which serves as the main bulk of her armor, crimson Crysteel adornments can be seen layered upon her hips, shoulders, and other extremities she can easily twist into a defensive position. That which is not covered by Zurine is instead covered with the hide of a white Hydra, including in the space between her pauldrons and Zurine Gauntlets, and between her Crysteel hip-plates and Zurine boots.
Though she does not often need to travel, Dust will carry any equipment in packs wrapped around her waist, so as not to throw off her center of balance. However, she does carry a set of armor and weaponry maintenance kits in a sash around her waist, along with a fresh set of underclothes and a few days' worth of rations. Despite being trained in many forms of combat, she cannot carry all of them, and usually only takes out a few at a time, but recent events have caused her to constantly carry a couple of Zurine daggers, one a punch-dagger, strapped into her boots, a Zurine arming sword attached to her hip, and a Ferrrelegni English Longbow strapped diagonally to her back. The ammunition, a few quivers of broadhead arrows, are held at the opposite hip to her sword. A collection of fieldpoint arrows are held with her other general equipment, for when she needs to practice, which is a lot of the time.
Spoiler:
Background: Dust was born of a working woman, but put out to the streets once past the initial infancy, for Ms. Gryphus simply could not pay to the feed a child, and such interruptions one would provide for her line of work were far too crippling to the business as a whole. Although initially confused by the sudden change of environment, the watchful guild known as the Sand Hatchlings snatched her away before she could become a victim of the streets or starvation. But, only a guild in name, they were but one group of children and teenagers in a battle for food amongst many who had no parents to let them survive, often housing themselves in abandoned basements or half-ruined buildings where they wouldn't be kicked out for vagrancy. Whichever strong few survived into teenagehood were sometimes lucky enough to be picked up by one of the Velchis mercenary groups.
The Sand Hatchlings were perhaps not as vicious as some of the other desperate groups of children, seeking to find their coin by digging through the dirt or working for the blacksmiths, instead of killing other people robbed of all hope. Their hearts were perhaps a bit too golden for the life they lived, however, as the infants they took in proved too draining, and the attacks they suffered from in their little home on the outskirts of Velchis too damning to their stores. Somebody needed to help them get through, teach them how to protect themselves, and one such teenager came from another gang to do just that, calling herself Jab. Although she scared "Nim", as it was all she remembered of her name, this teenager helped them to become a group of violent children...but one that could survive nevertheless. Because of this, they were no longer allowed to stay in the basement of Ms. Gryphus' special hotel on particularly cold nights, despite how much she'd cared for them before. They'd survived, but were just like the others.
It saddened Dust immensely, that she might not get to see Ms. Gryphus again, but she had to protect her friends anyway, and quickly became the most competent member of the group. She hadn't killed anyone yet, but Jab had been hired by one of the mercenary groups and the Sand Hatchlings put Dust as their new guild leader. It didn't last for long, as tragedy struck Ms. Gryphus and her "family" thanks to a group of rowdy gentlemen that murdered the former where she stood. Dust was grief-stricken as soon as she heard, and devoted herself to something she had never considered before, the next night. Though Ms. Gryphus' house went on, and the men returned, the eight year old with a stolen knife was the last thing they expected to see.
Dust returned to the Sand Hatchlings covered in blood and bruises, but victorious, for whatever such a victory was worth. The guild members named her Dust for all those she left in it, but word of the deed soon spread around and a distinguished man of gleaming armor and rippling muscles soon visited their abode on the outskirts of Velchis, looking for the person responsible for the slaughter, and soon found Dust with the direction of her friends. He offered her the chance to get out of the life she'd been living, and harness the potential she possessed for something greater, so she could be greater herself. It was with much reluctance that she left with him, mind vulnerable from the act she'd committed, yet still loving of the other Sand Hatchlings.
[Placeholder: Dust trained in the Sublime Way with the man until she had matured into a woman, being indoctrinated into thinking she was a weapon to be used for battle, but he made the mistake of taking advantage of her state of mind and tried to command her into laying with him; she killed him, because weapons don't do such things. She found a mercenary group and joined with them, until another attempted to take advantage of her servant's mind and she killed all of them, too. It happened again twice, until she reached the age of 25 and an enlightened master of the Sublime Way saved her from that life with enlightenment and tutelage. He wasn't able to make her a person, but he did break the slave conditioning and sent her on a journey to discover herself and her true role in the world.]
Talents: Fighting is all Dust knows, and the extent of her abilities, for she does not possess social graces or any particular trade, save for maintaining equipment. She is very skilled with the Sublime Way, how to carry herself in battle, and constantly practices archery, but is nearly useless as a leader thanks to not understanding any tactics beyond what she alone can do.
Name: Jared Ti'Hannan Race: Aelos Age: 22 years Gender: Male
Personality: One of Jared's more notable characteristics is his exceptional intelligence. Jared comprehends gramarie at an advanced level uncommon to other gramarists. He won't hesitate to propose gramarie as a solution, assuming that he sees the problem as something that could be solved with such. After growing up with gramarie, Jared takes it for granted, and he often gets frustrated if one of his workings doesn't work. Regardless, Jared would welcome almost any challenge for his intellect.
However, despite his understanding of gramarie, Jared finds it difficult to teach another gramarist. He normally shies away from positions that smell of 'tutor' or 'mentor', believing that his impatience would scare off a potential student. Another side to this is that Jared doesn't feel like he can find the right words to explain what he knows to another person. Over the years, Jared acquired a tendency to not really try to explain anymore, especially when he knows that the other person isn't a gramarist.
Jared is generally polite and friendly around other people when he isn't preparing a working. Respect is something that he tries to show, but he has a problem with respecting someone who provokes him or interferes with one of his more important workings. If the offense is particularly bad, then Jared usually takes the time to get back at the offender in some way. He values honesty in himself and others, and his comments are often blunt or tactless. This has put a social distance between Jared and select other people, but he doesn't care to establish false friendships or alliances. Politics are better left to those suited for it, not for an aelian gramarist that feels more comfortable in preparing a working.
Gramarie isn't Jared's sole focus in life. He finds the prospect of venturing into the world attractive, even if all he does is travel to another location to assist other gramarists or research an area of gramarie in the field. Jared won't restrict himself to workrooms or libraries; doing so would leave him itching to take to the skies. Flying is often the only time Jared can find to leave his cares for a time and let his mind drift.
Appearance: If one were to speak casually, Jared could be called a shortie. He stands at about five feet, with a slim build that is fairly fragile when compared to other races. However, Jared is also an adept flyer and has comparatively strong muscles. It isn't difficult to read the emotions in Jared's amber eyes, no matter his expression. He keeps his stiff navy-blue hair a few inches long, to prevent it from growing into curls. His feathered wings, with a wingspan of nine feet, are also navy-blue. Jared's tanned skin is mostly clear except for a small linear scar under his left eye and several smaller scars on his hands and fingers.
Though he denies following a fashion sense, Jared's preferred color-scheme is blue and gray. On a day-to-day basis, he wears a dark-gray Calian silk shirt and trousers, a leather vest dyed light blue, and black leather boots and belt. Inside the vest is a layer of quality aerelium with a protective enchantment to prevent degradation; his shirt and vest have additional holes to allow for Jared's wings. Jared's belt holds two pouches, one on each side, that were modified by a yggdratect to hold up to 8 cubic feet worth of supplies and objects each, though they're not often full to the brim. When it's necessary, Jared has a case that can strap onto his back for carrying a few staves.
Background: On the winter solstice of 1508, Jared Ti'Hannan was born into the family of a Calian silk merchant, Kalden. Jared's elder brother was expected to take control of their father's business and was tutored accordingly, which should have meant that the fourth of six aeloi children could pursue almost anything he wished to. That was before Jared's mother, Mildred, discovered that he and his two-years-younger sister, Coren, were interested in the gramaric devices found in the mansion. Being a gramarist, Mildred began tutoring Jared and Coren in the basics of gramarie. At the same time, Jared found flying to be exhilarating, and he took several opportunities to escape the confines of his mother's supervision and fly above the surrounding city. When flying outside was impossible, or unappealing, Jared spent his free time exploring the family's mansion with Coren; there were several rooms that had been declared "off-limits."
At the age of thirteen, Jared found an advanced set of gramarie books in the mansion's library, which allowed him to look into each of the disciplines. He delved into arcanodynamics and heuristicism, while Coren took an exclusive interest in yggdratecture. They wanted to go beyond the pace at which Mildred taught them, but they would need a workroom of their own to do so. When they found an "off-limits" room that didn't appear to be used for anything other than storage, Jared and Coren began a few of their own experiments; naturally, there were minor accidents mixed with some burns and cuts. Half a year went by before Jared's ambitious project - creating his own automaton - fell apart and drew his father's attention. He had to take a few days off for recovery purposes, which gave Kalden enough time to seal off the makeshift workroom. Mildred later provided Jared and Coren with specialized mentors, since her only specialty was kaleidomantics.
As he grew older, Jared began attending social events, often because of Mildred's unwanted promptings. He didn't care much for politics where it concerned Kalden's mercantile business. Jared still preferred to fly over Calis and, sometimes, the Zephrian Forest. All the same, his mentor, Julian, often took Jared to several locations in Merindor as part of his teaching, where they observed or helped prepare various arcanodynamic and heuristic workings. Julian was of the opinion that Jared needed hands-on experience in order to be a competent gramarist.
Through social gatherings and his travels, Jared was able to become friends with other gramarists of his generation, some of which were sons of other merchants. It didn't take more than a couple years for Jared and Coren to begin collaborating with each other and their friends in conducting their own gramarist experiments and whatnot. They were more careful this time with choosing a workroom that wouldn't be easily discovered; Coren helped establish a few with her yggdratecture knowledge. Of course, Jared didn't have as much free time anymore, so his projects advanced at a gradual pace.
Jared was nineteen when he was enlisted in helping with Kalden's ornithopters, which were used for transporting his business' merchandise. It seemed that a few of the ornithopters had been damaged by natural factors and needed their heuristic circuits to be updated. In the month of Itana, Jared was aboard an ornithopter as it sailed to Tyrovion with a cargo-load of Calian silk, making sure the circuits were working, when a group of flying monsters attacked the ship. The monsters distracted many of the crewmembers, and Jared was left in the engine room. He was present when a 'worker' walked in and tried to sabotage the eldrikinetic engine. Jared kept him occupied with a brief fight long enough for others to come and subdue the saboteur, then was forced to submit to a healer's care. The gramarists on board kept the engine and circuits together long enough for the ornithopter to dock and get proper repairs.
A covert investigation revealed that the saboteur had been hired by another Calian merchant, Alden Leonhardt, though intentions were still unclear. Jared didn't care one whit for what any of this meant for Kalden, but he was requested to talk to one of his known friends, Viktor Leonhardt, to see if he knew anything of his father's plans. Even if Jared had agreed to do so, Viktor 'conveniently' disappeared before he could have been questioned. Ignoring the fuss over the attack on Kalden's ornithopter, Jared continued his own gradual project of building his personal automaton. Still, it was about this time that he began wearing vests with aerelium, in case he got into another fight.
The aerelium vest saved his life when a would-be assassin attacked Jared and his mentor one night in Mingyang, several months later. Julian's expertise had been requested for an arcanodynamic research project, and he had brought the twenty-year-old aelos along for the ride. The assassin slashed Julian with a dagger and attempted to do the same to Jared, but it glanced off his vest as Jared backed off. After retaliating with raw gramaric blasts, Jared and his mentor returned to the inn they were staying at; Julian died a few hours later due to a poisoned cut. The attacker, dead after Jared's retaliation, was identified as Viktor Leonhardt.
The shock of being attacked by one of his 'friends', combined with the death of his mentor and the fact that he'd killed a person, drove Jared into a state of depression. Though others attempted to fix this, Jared spent much of his time secluded in his workroom. About three months passed before he emerged with a new personal automaton at his side; it didn't take long after that for Jared to supposedly leave his depression behind. During the next year, Jared became more focused on gramarie and learning to fight with a staff, with plans to become an adventuring gramarist. Politics and the city life were now too much for Jared Ti'Hannan.
Talents: Being an aelos, Jared's senses are more perceptive than those of other races, and he is an adept flyer. He has basic knowledge of the gramarie disciplines in general, and his specialization is in arcanodynamics and heuristicism. Jared also knows, to a limited extent, how to fight with a staff; he's at least able to defend himself against normal, basic attacks.
He'd been watching the main entrance to the technology division building, waiting for this man to come out. The human was known as one of the scientists for SRI's technology divisions, and he wasn't real remarkable if you considered his appearane alone. He was average height, average looks, straw-colored hair and glasses, seemed a little on the skinny side. From what Stryker had gathered, this human was particularly cruel with the few Pokemon under his command, even if those few were enough to indulge in the occasional battle and ward off past attempts on the man's life or possessions.
After learning that Stryker was hanging around near Menlo Park, some days ago, the local RDM had approached him with the task of...relieving this man of his Pokemon, with assistance available upon request. It was mostly after observing and, after a brief brush on the sidewalk, bugging the human that Stryker had learned about some interesting gadgets and technology in this particular division of SRI International. Of course, the priority was to liberate the human's Pokemon, but Stryker had expanded his reconnaissance to include tracking the man and learn what was inside the building.
It was night, a few hours after the sun had set, when Stryker spied his target leaving the building. He'd actually planned to act tonight, but he paused as he realized that...the human was arguing with another man who'd accompanied him outside.
"--sider doing such a thing! I thought you were smarter than that!" That was the second man, red in the face as he was shouting at the first, who followed almost like a loyal Houndour.
"Are you even listening to me, Travis?" the first, Stryker's target, shouted back. "The Knight I talked to had a very good point, and I didn't really need to keep any useless Pokemon around!" He trailed off with a comment that Stryker couldn't quite hear from his position.
Travis whirled around to glare at the other man in disgust, letting loose some words that Stryker winced at. "That's the problem, Zach!" he exploded. "Why anyone would release their Pokemon for money is beyond me! Especially when we work here!" The scientist through out an arm to point at the building the humans had just left. Travis then turned on his heel and marched away, fuming, while Zach shook his head and walked back inside. The man didn't bother to look up at the Noctowl, partially hidden in the tree's branches and shadows.
Interesting indeed. So someone of the Knights of Valor was around. Stryker turned his head to follow Travis for the next few seconds, confident that neither human would suspect his illusion. He'd been sitting in this tree for the past few hours, after all, and no one else had tried to bother him. Moments after both humans had disappeared from view, Stryker spoke to the Pidgey sitting above him. "Need ya to keep an eye on things while I'm inside that building. Once I'm out, report back to your superior that Mr. Zach has an accomplice, Mr. Travis, who might need to be watched."
"Yessir," the Pidgey answered, bobbing his head. Unlike the Noctowl that Stryker appeared to be, this was a real bird, and a less-experienced member of the RDM. The Pidgey then opened his wings and flew out of the tree, easily keeping an eye on Travis as he stalked away on the sidewalk. Stryker turned his attention to the building that represented one of SRI's main divisions on this campus, checking that no other human was coming out.
A brief wave of magenta energy flowed over the Noctowl as he left his branch; moments later, Travis the human was striding away from the tree, brushing off the sleeves of his brown overcoat. Stryker didn't understand what the scientist thought about wearing such a garment half the time he'd seen him, especially since it wasn't winter. Still, it was an excuse to hide his tail under the illusion of the coat...assuming that the tail had decided to be visible this time around. Stryker hadn't quite perfected hiding his tail in his illusions.
He pulled the door open and walked through, looking as if he was supposed to be there. The few humans in the building hardly glanced at him as he found his way to the elevator, where Zach was waiting for the doors to open. The human was openly surprised when he found Travis standing beside him. "Travis? Why're you back in here?" he asked, still a little angry.
"Forgot a couple things," 'Travis' answered in a grumpy tone, not looking at Zach. As the doors opened, and the two of them entered, he watched Zach press one of the buttons before asking, "Have you been feeling well lately?"
Zach blinked, surprised again. "I guess," he said, "but wh--" His eyes widened slightly before shutting as his legs gave out from under him. 'Travis' caught the human easily, hiding his Toxic claw underneath at the same time while it still glowed a deep purple. In the seconds before the elevator doors opened again, Stryker had grabbed Zach's ID card and forced a dose of antidote down the human's throat. He didn't need to leave dead, poisoned bodies lying around, and the human had seemingly released his Pokemon already...though someone had beaten Stryker to the punch.
It was a matter of minutes before he found the lab-room with all the technological stuff he was after. No one else was in the dark room. Stryker cast out an illusion over the room, mimicking the entire layout. He eased his backpack off his back and began grabbing what he needed, noting that his illusion held. The camera in the room would show 'Travis' stuffing objects into a backpack...yet those same objects appeared to be on the tables still.
Some of it looked interesting, some of it looked boring, and some of it looked like what a friend of his - another Pokemon - had been looking for. Stryker didn't feel any qualms about stealing from humans - stealing Pokemon's freedom and sentience was commonplace for them. Still, he didn't take more than what he would use himself or give to his friend. After doing his job, he nodded to himself before turning to stare directly at the camera, smirking as he let his appearance flicker, showing the Zoroark underneath for a half-second. It was surprisingly easy to leave the building as 'Travis'. The illusion that everything was still in the lab would remain for the next fifteen minutes before disappearing.
Some time later, in an abandoned house, Stryker was sorting through what he'd stolen when he heard a chirp from the broken window. Looking up, he saw the Pidgey, who said, "They wanna know your report."
"Just that my target was already persuaded to release his Pokemon," Stryker answered, standing and stretching. "Sounded like a Knight got to him first. They know about my target's accomplice?"
"Yes," the Pidgey chirped. "Message for you, too, from your own superiors. They have someone they need you to keep an eye on. Top priority."
Stryker frowned, his eyes narrowing. It wasn't often this happened. "Where?"
So...I'm pretty much assuming a few things about an aelos' wings. It seems like something that would fall under Question 8.
Okay, thanks for the tips.
Aelian wings are typically 10 to 12 feet when fully outstretched, so 8 feet is not much of a (er, excuse the language) stretch. They're typically held in place by various ligaments when an aelos wishes to glide for an extended period of time, which is significantly less tiring than flying through one's own exertion.
@Garet: A few literary suggestions: try to remove ellipses when your writing doesn't actually need them (or use different notation for emphasis). Variance in how you begin your sentences wouldn't hurt either ; o. And, uh, be careful with how you link your sentences together - that would make reading your sign-up significantly smoother.
A single comment regarding gramarie: you might want to decide which discipline(s) your character has studied the most.
Alrighty, my SU is mostly done, with the Roleplay Sample left to go. Aside from the Background, I was wondering if having an automaton during the roleplay would be a problem.
Whooooops I missed this question for two days. Uh, depends on how big / functional the automaton is: since automatons require a constant supply of energy to function, it may be impractical to bring one along on a journey with you.
