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PLAYED BY: Kathy Beltran.
GENDER: Female
AGE: 29
RACE: Syndar
HAIR: Blond
EYES: Blue
OCCUPATION: Phoenix adventurer
KNOWN SKILLS: Archery, Arcane 1
BIRTHPLACE: Born on the Fire Isle
APPEARANCE: Red dress, blond hair and beautiful
RELATIONSHIPS: Born and raised on the Fire Isle, she is friends with all of the Phoenix.
RUMORS: “Have you seen her after a few drinks of Phoenix wine?”
Kylia is… Kylia. Upon first glance, she is just like every other Phoenix of the Fire Isle. Her red dress, flowing blonde hair with pointed tips poking out on both sides, her glowing blue eyes, all are nothing compared to her bubbly, friendly, talkative personality. But, not immediately. When you first meet her, her lips are sealed. Earning her trust so that she is comfortable with you is the key to unlocking her ‘ray of sunshine’ personality. Or Offer her a few drinks of Phoenix wine. She was born on the island, shortly after they found it. She lived her life in simple happiness, never leaving the island. As a matter of fact, she’s hardly ever seen someone who isn’t Syndar. Humans and Ulven are still very new to her. She would spend some time on the harbor, watching the new and different sailors moving their goods from the ship to shore and back again. Always with wide eyed curiosity.
After her friends Anariel and Reggie started leaving the Fire Isle, they came back with great stories about giant kitty cats, tweety birds, and a giant basil bush. Hearing all the stories was fun, so how much more fun would it be to go on an adventure with them? And Reggie.
She took a trip on the boat with the one with the funny hat. And so, her adventure began.

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Saffiyah Glaedwine was born in Tielorrian in the year 246 to Gairell and Tayleth Glaedwine. They were both scholars, following the moon goddess Lunara. Saffiyah had deep green eyes, pointed ears, and blonde hair with a glow of red to it. At the tender age of four, Saffiyah and her parents fled from the falling kingdom they called home to go to the new land, known as Mardrun. Unfortunately, being so young at the time, Saffiyah has precious few memories of her birth place, and not nearly as strong a connection with their culture as Gairell and Tayleth would have liked.
From a young age they taught her the importance of the mana stream, their life force, and they attempted to educate their daughter in their ways so that she may also be a scholar. After their homeland was overrun with the undead, they clung onto their daughter tighter than most parents might have. It was their full intention to raise her to work with them in a laboratory and study in a library and be safe. As Saffiyah grew up, it became clear to her father that this was not a life she would accept, but her mother would not have it.
At 22, still quite young for a syndar, Saffiyah requested that she be allowed to travel North and explore their new world, as she had not been allowed to see any of it yet and only had stories and her own imagination. She pleaded with her parents to let her, telling them that she believed the answer to their race’s struggles with the mana stream would be found somewhere in the new land. She had heard stories of the creatures in the Dirge Swamp and wanted to see them herself. While Saffiyah told her parents that she wanted to adventure to research, she knew this was only an excuse to escape. The life her parents had planned for her was nothing like the life she wanted for herself. Their denial of her wish hit her hard. And considering she had no money of her own, she knew if this kept up she would always be reliant on her parents. So she devised a plan.
For as long as she spent thinking about what she would do, she was still young, and had not much worldly experience… so her plan did not quite go as she had hoped.

Saffiyah stole a few pieces of jewelry from her family and sold them for silver pieces. This gave her what she thought would be enough to take her safely to the Northern lands where she could escape the colonies and roam freely and adventure. She packed a few items, clothing and a book which she kept her thoughts. She then gathered a party of humans and offered them coin to make sure she could travel safely, and left a note for her parents. This would apologize and explain her reasons. One of her biggest regrets in life is that she was unable to have a proper goodbye with them.
For the first couple days, her party headed up toward the Dirge completely unmet by other travelers. It was days before she saw her first Mordok. The creature was ugly to behold, and it put her on edge to finally see one in person. She had not expected to be so nervous as she knew its intelligence would be far less than her own. Nevertheless she thought of the stories she’d heard about them and hung back while her men advanced on it. The creature was… timid. It backed away from the men coming to it, but they struck it down quickly and the whole group kept traveling.
In the following days they were met with scattered mordok here and there. It was clear to Saffiyah that the further North they traveled, the less meek these creatures seemed to be, yet they had not struggled too greatly to slay them and carry on. After weeks of travel, they ran into a larger group of Mordok than they had seen yet, only having faced 2 or 3 at a time at the most so far. Now with even numbers on both sides, the Mordok were more vicious and ruthless than she had seen them be before.
Even as her men landed great blows, the creatures kept coming at them until her party was in danger. It was as if the Mordok had a goal- not to kill, but to see how much damage they could do to them. Just as Saffiyah thought this might spell the end for her and her adventure, they were aided by a storm of arrows and swords. It was a pack of Ulven, sweeping through to clear the Mordok in the area. She offered them money as gratitude for their rescue, but the ulven would not take it. “We do not need payment for something our morals dictate we do,” one of them told her. They guided her wounded party to a tavern to rest, and parted ways.
Saffiyah paid for food, drink, healing, and rooms so that her and her men would have a chance to recuperate. All this, while necessary, was also quite costly. Depressed, she sat in a corner of the tavern with a drink, scribbling in her book and trying to devise another plan, one that would make her the money she needed to continue on. She was starting to lose hope, so she began writing down some of the songs she heard people singing instead to get her mind off of her troubles, even for just a little while.
“Whatcha got there?” she heard a gruff voice calling.
Saffiyah looked over see a human man swaggering over to her. His clothing was of fine, rich colored velvet, and he wore many large jewels on his fingers and around his neck. This was a wealthy man.
“Just doing a little writing” Saffiyah replied, carefully closing her book.
He came quite close to her.
“I have no interest for stories,” he started, “but I am interested in what I’m seeing”
The man looked her over, spending more time looking at certain areas of her body. He offered her a little purse of coins to stay the night with him in his room and “have some fun”.
This was not the first time Saffiyah had been asked this in her travels. Between the different taverns they stopped at to rest, she had probably heard this question four or five times now. So it became reflex to say no.
The man chuckled and pulled out another small purse full of coins, claiming he would double his original offer.
Saffiyah blinked. Am I actually considering this? She thought to herself. Entertaining the idea, she realized that it was going to be the best, and possibly only way to earn the money needed to complete her journey. She put on a false smile and accepted the man’s offer.
In the morning, she collected the promised silver, pocketed it, and went on her way, a slight smile on her face. The thing she found most surprising about the experience was that she did not hate it. She had accomplished something. It was easy and not unpleasant. She gathered her men, who had clearly also had…. restful nights… and with newfound confidence and invigoration they continued on.
They went quite far North before being stopped in the road by a large group of men who introduced themselves as merchants. They were called in to look at their wares, and before they knew it, they were surrounded by more men than they had spotted originally. These were no merchants… they were bandits.
Alarmingly outnumbered, Saffiyah’s men were taken down easily, slain before her very eyes. She cried out as she was grabbed from behind by one of them, who was pinning her arms down so she could not move, and could not cast.
“What should we do with this one?” The bandit called out to an apparent leader. He was a large man, wearing the best armor of any of them. He looked down at Saffiyah from atop his horse and size her up.
“We will take her to be sold on the black market,” he exclaimed.
The following days were a torturous existence for Saffiyah. These men were rough with her, and she was not well fed or watered. They bound her tightly at the wrists with ropes and took turns being the one in charge of holding it. They made her walk behind the caravan for long stretches, and if she couldn’t keep up, it was common for someone to yank on her lead, making her lurch forward and fall. Between the bruises on her knees from hitting the ground hard, and the red, raw skin on her wrists, she was unsure which hurt more.
It could have been days or weeks, she could not keep track. But eventually the leader called out to them that they were to part ways and sell their wares at different locations so it would be harder to track them down. Saffiyah was sent with four men to be sold into slavery. After a days travel, they exclaimed that they must be getting close. There were small streams of smoke in the distant sky that they could see above the tree-line. This would likely be people cooking or a blacksmith working. Signs of a gathering of people.
Saffiyah’s stomach lurched and she feared that whatever fate held for her, it could be worse than what she had already endured. But she was incredibly lucky. To her relief they were met on the road by another Ulven. Yet as they got closer she saw he somehow didn’t seem as friendly as those she had been rescued by, his face was stern and his demeanor was frightening. She rethought her original sense of relief and realized that this could be who she was being sold to.
The ulven interrogated the men who kept her, and upon deciding that they were bandits, he drew his weapon and attacked them. The lunk who had been holding her rope dropped it to draw his own sword and she saw her chance. Knowing that four-on-one were not good odds for the Ulven, she ran as fast as she could, trying to get away before they could slay him and grab her again. She raced toward the smoke, thinking that she might be safe if only she could reach the town as a free woman.
Her entire body ached, having been so worn down from her lack of food and water, she found it harder and harder to make herself run. Saffiyah’s legs felt like lead. She stopped, leaning against a tree to catch her breath. There were gentle rustles in a nearby bush, she ignored them, whatever animal was there would not concern her now. She used her teeth to untie her bindings, rubbing gingerly at the tender skin on her wrists. Her head was spinning. She closed her eyes and tried to ground herself. When she opened them again, she saw a Mordok approaching her, weapon held high. She gasped and quickly channeled mana and sent it flying a few feet back with a surge of energy. Turning back toward where she had come from, she saw the Ulven, charging up the road, looking enraged. She ducked out of his way and looked, just in time to see that the Mordok had already advanced on her again. He took it down with a few heavy blows and she stood there, paralyzed with shock.
When the creature lay dead, he fixed his gaze on Saffiyah, between the blood splattered on his face and the fierce look upon it, her heart skipped a beat. She secured her footing and just as she was about to push off running, the Ulven grabbed her by the wrist, hard.
“Stop running off on your own! You are going to get yourself killed!” he growled.
She drew back in fear and winced from the pain she felt surging from where he held her.
The look on Saffiyah’s face must have been obvious fear, for the Ulven softened his own expression, and his tone. He released his grip on her wrist, but held her at the shoulder to make sure she was steady. She looked him over, noticing by the way he held himself that some of the blood on him was definitely his own.
“I am Toralf Grimmsvulker,” he said, “and I belong to a group whose main duty is ridding the world of the bandit threat. The Wardens of the Great Wolf.”
“My name is Saffiyah” she choked out.
“Well Saffiyah,” he said through bated breath, “you should come with me. I know someone who can care for you. You’ll be safe with us.”
Knowing full well it could be a trap, she decided to trust him. She really had no other choice.
Toralf started toward the town, and Saffiyah followed.

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PLAYED BY: Jacob Veldhuizen

CONTACT INFO: https://www.facebook.com/jacob.veldhuizen


NICKNAMES: “Elegast the Wanderer”, “El”, “Ellie”(childhood)


CLASS: Cleric

AGE: 69

RACE: Syndar

HAIR: Blonde

EYES: Blue

KNOWN SKILLS: A skilled draftsman, former teacher, capable soldier, and survivalist

BIRTHPLACE: Born in the City of Seven Gates, The Kingdom of Tielorrien on Faedrun

NOTABLE TRAITS and APPEARANCE: A reserved initial demeanor opening into a thoughtful and curious personality, Elegast is tall with short hair and a beard.

RELATIONSHIPS: Fulwin (best friend, M.I.A)


198-210: Elegast is born to Llwellenar and Faunalyn in the City of Seven Gates in the Kingdom of Tielorrien on the continent of Faedrun.  The first of two children, Elegast is raised in the loving care of both parent’s extended families.  His Father comes from a farming commune hugging the outside of the city’s large eastern wall while his mother comes from a smaller family living close to the academy building of the Bellath-ah-Dien, also in the eastern quadrant of the city.  With both families living close enough to walk to within a day, Elegast is raised in the wealth of life that each community can offer.  Elegast is shielded from much of the horror of the undead plague in his early years.  He grows up playing with his brother, cousins, and friends in the fields and forests of his paternal family’s lands, growing strong of heart and spirit in the country air.  With his maternal family, Elegast is exposed to the beauty and famous culture of the grand City of Seven Gates.  Trips through the gates and into the city center spark his intellectual and creative mind.

210-214: The truth of the war against the undead plague slowly builds in Elegast’s mind.  No longer a simple game of Knights vs Undead to pretend at with his friends, but a harsh reality when a schoolmate’s father does not come home.  Then another student’s mother.  A cousin.  Neighbors traveling between cities.  Soon it becomes all too common to have multiple relatives or acquaintances lose friends and family.  A tale of a Tielorrien soldier meeting his undead brother in battle circulates Elegast’s school.  Rumor, gossip, truth, or myth Elegast does not know but the story takes hold in his heart.  Imagining himself in the place of the knight and coming upon the undead face of his own brother in battle breaks his heart, and he weeps.  Elegast promises himself this will not be his fate.  He begins in earnest to learn whatever he can about the undead and how to stop them.  Whatever golden innocence there is in childhood slowly fades, as Elegast begins to train himself for war.

214-216: Elegast begs his family to let him study with the Galendhidur early.  After much initial resistance, they acquiesce in the face of his stubborn desire.  Elegast does well in his training and is among those selected to receive further training as an officer candidate.  During his time at Galendhidur Elegast meets a fellow officer candidate named Fulwin.  The two become fast friends.

216-220: Elegast is finally of age and officially enlists in the Tielorrien military.  He joins many of his peers in this fight.  Few can remember a time without the threat of undead in the world and they are eager to join.  Elegast is commissioned as a second lieutenant in The Grand Alliance under Knight Arryn of Tielorrien.  His close friend Fulwin is also sent to serve under Knight Arryn as her first lieutenant in charge of Logistics and Information. 

220-224: Elegast returns from leave to his second deployment under Knight Arryn.  Knight Arryn has been tasked by the Tielorrien command with testing a new military unit called “Herders”.  Small units of mobile skirmishers designed to perform hit and “jog” attacks on undead troops.  Performing small hits on targets and then retreating to a position of safety while still being visible to the enemy.  Their goal is to “herd” or lure opposition forces into advantageous positions for the larger Alliance forces to engage, as well as ensuring that smaller enemy forces aren’t able to peel off from the main force.  Elegast is promoted to first lieutenant and placed in command of the experimental new unit.  To his delight, he begins working closely with his best friend Fulwin to organize and optimize the Herders actions.

224-226:  At the end of his second deployment Elegast is given a six-month leave.  Before his departure from Knight Arryn’s service, he is awarded a commendation for his leadership of The Herders and promoted to Captain.  He is informed that he is being given command of the small new Galendhidur Herder Training Academy in his home City of Seven Gates.  Leaving the front Elegast is accompanied by Fulwin who has also recently earned a promotion and leave.  Elegast is proud but exhausted from the eight years of war.  His emotions are mixed during his time away from combat.  Thinking the battle against The Undead would have ended before now he is discouraged that no major victory has occurred or seems likely in the coming months if not years.  And while his success as a Herder and upcoming teaching position bring him a physical break and new mental challenge he cannot break loose from a growing cloud in his soul.  The following two years are tumultuous for Elegast.  He finds himself to be a capable instructor and produces several exceptional soldiers. At the same time, he witnesses the significant loss of Tielorrien homeland to The Undead.  The letters he receives from Fulwin, now working as a Logistics and Intelligence Liaison to the human militaries, do little to encourage him.  The Grand Alliance remains stable but is less able to send aid to the Tielorrien and other Syndar nations with each passing month.  Concerned for his family’s safety he moves his parents nearer to the Galendhidur Academies while also requesting his brother’s commission be moved to his training academy as an instructor.

226-232: In the ensuing six years Elegast remains the head instructor for the small Galendhidur Herder Training Academy.  His skill as a teacher grow with each passing year, but as the tide continues to swell against the favor of the Tielorrien People, Elegast becomes restless and itches to return to battle.

232-234: His chance arrives all too quickly.  Major losses in the Tielorrien homeland have caused the return of the main Tielorrien military force from their positions in The Grand Alliance.  Elegast receives word that he is needed on the battlefield.  His commission is once again transferred to a now older and visibly worn down Knight Arryn.  With her physical capabilities greatly handicapped Elegast often takes Knight Arryn’s place on the battlefield after spending long hours under her consultation.  Fulwin, having returned with the main Tielorrien force, also joins Knight Arryn to consult and strategize but his visits are far and few between as his presence is needed across the embattled army.  Before long, fighting moves to the walls of the capitol City of Seven Gates, and then, into the streets.

235: For a brief moment time stands still for Elegast.  From the center two spires in the middle circle of the capitol, Elegast looks out across the burning city of his birth and feels its death.  The May’Kar have turned and betrayed The Grand Alliance and now The Undead march innumerable in the heart of the City of Seven Gates.  Snapping back to the task at hand, Elegast resumes his run along the spire parapets.  He is coordinating what remains of the fallen Knight Arryn’s command and a handful of civilians in retreating to the main force harbored in boats along the river cutting through the city center. Waiting for him at his appointed barge is Fulwin.  Taking their leave with the rest of the Tielorrien military Elegast’s barge passes through the final river gate and into open water.  Looking back through the night air, the light of a thousand fires dance across soot-covered faces as the last of the Tielorrien people leave their home.

236-250: The next 14 years evaporate in a cruel loop of long marches and anxious waiting followed by short intense bursts of fighting and running.  The refugees of Tielorrien quickly become dispersed across the remaining safe zones of Faedrun.  Elegast, Fulwin, and the remaining 20 or so soldiers left from Knight Arryn’s command join what remains of The Grand Alliance and are tasked with guarding refugees as they make their way from war zones to safe havens.  On his few days rest Elegast visits his mother, father, and few relatives living in a refugee settlement.  They give him momentary respite from a world torn apart and give him what little information they receive of his brother fighting with the Vandregon army.

250-253:  The settlement where Elegast’s family lives is raided.  None survive.  Elegast loses contact with his brother and is unable to get word through military channels as to his state.  Elegast and Fulwin are two of now 12 remaining soldiers from their days under command of Knight Arryn.  They move to the southern lands of Vandregon, fighting as a small force helping to protect port towns.

253: Elegast is severely wounded in the right leg while fighting outside a port town in southern Vandregon.  Against his will, Elegast is forced onto a ship bound for the new world by Fulwin.  Tears in his eyes Elegast begs Fulwin to take him back to the fight but Fulwin pushes him onto a bunk in the lower hold and quickly ties his hands to the post.  Fulwin holds Elegast’s head in his hands and places his own forehead against Elegast’s.  Sweat and tears mix as the two say whispered goodbyes.  Slowly, Fulwin rises and walks away from Elegast and off the boat.  As the boat begins its journey to a new land Elegast hears audible groans and gasps of terror from above.  Furiously fighting to undo his bindings Elegast manages to hobble up the stairs to the main deck and is overcome by what he sees across the water.  Making their along the coast is the largest horde of undead Elegast has ever witnessed.  In a fit, he tries to climb overboard but is easily overpowered by those standing next to him and restrained. Furious he frees an arm and attempts to strike those who hold him back.  His fist meets only air.  The loss of blood and brother catching up with him, he passes out. While crossing the ocean Elegast’s leg becomes infected and his journey is spent below deck in the makeshift infirmary.  Despondent and in a feverish daze he clings to life.  Arriving at Newhope, Elegast is carried off the boat on a stretcher and onto a new world.

254-266: Once fully recovered Elegast spends the next weeks and months pleading with local officials and any arriving ships to return to Faedrun in the hopes that he may find and rejoin his men.  Few share his interest in returning and the news that reaches the new world is grim.  No ships are sent back.

Elegast builds himself a small hut on the outskirts of Newhope near the shore. He spends his evenings watching for incoming ships in the faint hope of the arrival of his brothers in arms.  No such ship comes.  Elegast begins to withdraw from the small connections he has made.  He continues to pick up small jobs to survive but rarely speaks to anyone more than necessary.  Falling into a deep depression Elegast is consumed.  Months pass.  Seasons creep by.  And then his darkness breaks.  What’s left, however, is not whole.  He has been hallowed out in some sad small way.  Elegast kneels into a position he has not taken since his arrival on Mardrun.  Meditating for two full days, Elegast rises with the sun on the morning of the third day.  Shakily standing from his kneeling position Elegast stumbles to his cupboard and hungrily devours what food and water he has.  Resting for a moment, Elegast drags his dusty armor from under his bed and walks out of the hut.  Finding a lone tree atop the cliffs, Elegast digs a hole with what strength he can after two full days of meditating.  He slowly and silently buries his Tielorrien armor, placing a small pile of rocks over the mound.  After saying a small prayer for those he will never see again and those left behind, Elegast returns to his hut.  Packing quickly, Elegast places essentials in his pack and everything else in a pile against a wall.  The only reminder of his life on Faedrun he keeps is a lightly woven and intricately decorated tunic.  Taking his tinderbox, Elegast lights a small flame in the pile of belongings against the wall.  As the flames begin to grow Elegast places his pack across his shoulders and walks out as smoke fills the hut.  As fire creeps out of the door, Elegast watches for a moment before turning and walking down a path and away from Newhope, a hollowed wanderer.

267:  A streak of blue flits across Elegast’s mind.  Suddenly a massive wave crests and crashes down smashing Elegast against the rocks.  Just as suddenly the water is gone and Elegast stands on dry arid ground.  Again the blue streak flits across his vision and behind him.  Elegast turns just in time to see the blue streak fly face first into him.  With a start, he wakes up.  The sun has just begun to peak over the horizon.  Collecting his things Elegast stands, pausing for a moment.  It has been 12 years since he walked away from the world.  Looking back at the retreating night, Elegast turns and begins walking toward the rising dawn.

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Staff Weapons
Lore Ulven
Armor Proficiency
First Aid
Lore Survival


Bjorn was born to small family, just two parents and his mother’s mother. His father a farmer and mother a hunter, they taught him from an early age how to make the most of the land and how to survive on his own. While growing up, he was fairly sickly and kept to the home. During this time his grandma told him stories of the Ulven and their accomplishments, beginning his interest in the Ulven lore.

As he grew older, Bjorn decided that the best way he could help his clan was to join the Lorespeakers and carry on their history. He took an apprenticeship with his clan’s local Lorespeaker at age 8. Over the years, he studied diligently under his master, learning the stories of his people.

He was 18 when the Lorespeaker conspiracy came to light. Upon learning that the men he’d idolized were nothing more than liars. He fled when he realized he’d be rounded up along with the others. Bjorn carved the runes for Lorespeaker onto the back of his right hand, a reminder that he was once fooled by them as well.

Having become disillusioned by the conspiracy, Bjorn turned his back on the clans and built a life for himself in the woods.

Read more: http://lasthopelarp.proboards.com/thread/1884/ty-springer-new-bjorn-engmann#ixzz5dVVfupZl

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Aramaeyis was born a small, frail Syndar child in the kingdom of Tielorrien in the year 245 but loved by his parents nonetheless. Miraluya Whisperwind was a performer, recognized for the fluidity of her movements that made her feral syndar traits much more acceptable to others around her. Her husband, Korvarric Whisperwind, owned a small tavern that was always filled with the sounds of music from his instruments and laughter from the patrons. They worshipped the Goddess Lunara and it showed by the love and care they showed one another, and even more so to Aramaeyis. As he continued to grow, Aramaeyis developed small fangs and claws, much to the dismay of his mother who worried it would be hard for him to fit in. Even though Syndar always inherit traits from their mothers she had hoped and prayed that Aramaeyis would be different, but the only Serous trait developed from his father was his “normal skin” and one green eye while the other was blue like hers.
When the undead plague started to ravage the Syndar lands, his parents sold and traded what they could to book passage to the new world hoping to keep Aramaeyis safe. As they made their way to their escape point his father was caught by a a pack of undead. He fought and clawed against the creatures begging Miraluya to take Aramaeyis away.
“Save our son, my love”, he screamed, “And, when it is time, may Lunara bring our love into the mana stream once more!”
The image of his father being ravaged by the undead and his blood quenching the earth itself bore itself into Aramaeyis’ mind. It would be something he would never forget, and the sight of blood itself brought up a feeling of disgust in his gut.
Upon arriving to Madrun, they found a small home in the settlement of New Hope. Fearful that he would grow to resent other Syndar for being shunned for his appearance, Miraluya started to teach Aramaeyis about how important the mana stream really was to their people and also started to teach him to dance. Grief was taking her at the loss of her beloved and she had to leave Aramaeyis with some way to deal with the disgust of others and instead turn it into something passionate and raw. She was surprised how easily he was able to take to her teachings, his body moving in ways even she couldn’t.
He had such control , such emotion, and such beauty to his movements that it left her amazed. Aramaeyis was always at home amongst the flowers and the trees. He danced everyday within the forests claiming the mana stream guided his body and filled him with energy and love. As his mother approached one day, Aramaeyis bowed his head, closed his eyes, and greeted her in the way Syndar were normally accustomed to, “Siala Kay Nu, mother.”
It shook her to see her son in the light. His fangs and nails had grown longer, his eyes shined brightly among the sunlight peeking through the trees, and
he was growing into a man. She sat Aramaeyis down and started to tell him stories of what she did before she met his father. Her dances were a way for her to gather money enough to survive. She danced in taverns and even personally for men and women alike, and watched as they looked upon her in awe.
“You must remember my love and my life, our dance is a form of art and will show people who you really are. You can also use it to alter the emotions of others. All Syndar are born with magic and you will learn to harness yours through your movements. Make them feel them music, the emotions, and the passion your dances bring. The only thing I ask of you Aramaeyis, is to promise to never take the life of another. Your heart is large, and grief is a deadly poison to our people. My prayer is that you never have to experience the destruction of taking another’s life.”
Looking upon his mother, Aramaeyis grew worried but he nodded his head softly and said, “I promise mother, I will only bring joy to those I come across.”
A few years later, Miraluya grew sickly. Aramaeyis remembered her stories of dancing for money, and saw it as a way to try and get some medicine for his mother. Even though she pleaded and begged for him not to go along the same path as her, he wouldn’t listen. Losing his mother was something Aramaeyis could not stomach. Knowing no tavern would take him now, he started to perform in the streets drawing small crowds at first that grew larger everyday as people started to be entranced by his movements. He soon started to learn that people sought him out for more than dances. They wanted a companion, which to Aramaeyis who was shunned for always being different, was an appealing thought. He soon learned however, that companionship meant more than he thought it did.
Men and women alike requested him after being entranced by his dances but it brought about the money he needed to care for his mother. Aramaeyis soon learned that those who he shared a bed with, also liked to share the secrets of others while relaxed. He also found out that some people would pay quite well from secrets learned from others. Among those he danced for Aramaeyis met an eccentric man by the name of Thanderion. He aroused the curiosities in Aramaeyis with his stories of dueling and fencing
and boasted that he himself was the most famous and well known fencer among the land. As Aramaeyis spent time with Thanderion and learned more about the world they were in, he learned of a place called the Brown Chicken Brown Cow. An establishment that excelled at the skills his mother used to display and that he started to learn himself. It was run by a woman named Marrah whose beauty was only matched by the sharpness of her tongue. It intrigued him to learn that everyone there was excepted by her as long as you had something to offer her.
Eventually, the grief took Miraluya. The loss of her husband and loss of her sons pure nature became too much for her. Her only wish was that her son would find happiness in everything he did. The loss of his mother however, stung Aramaeyis like a blade to the heart. She was the only person that truly accepted all of him and loved him for it and now she was no more. Even though he knew she would be returned to the mana stream, the thought of never feeling her warmth and her love again became a pit in his stomach. As the years went on he turned to joys of the spirit and his dances became more feral, more raw. Thanderion visited once again, and upon seeing Aramaeyis in this state, offered to travel with him to see Marrah. He hoped that finding a place where he would be included would keep Maey from going down a darker path. As they traveled they grew closer as friends, and the smile that once used to light Maey’s face was brighter than before. As they traveled they came upon the company of an Ulven
camp. Maey had always regarded the ulven with a large amount of respect, knowing that even though the Ulven were large and beast like, honor was the highest priority to them. As they approached he realized they were armed and the symbol of a great wolf was shown among them.
“It’s the Wardens of the Great Wolf,” Thanderion explained. “They are a band of warriors,
healers, and the like who believe in honor and justice among all things. It would seem we are lucky young Maey, Marrah is one of them.” Maey grew excited upon seeing how diverse this group was. They all seemed to enjoy the company of one another, and even upon seeing Maey’s fangs and claws, looked upon him as they would any other. Thanderion led Maey to a beautiful woman who he soon learned was Marrah herself. “He tells me you have a gift of movement as well as the gift of tongue.” Marrah looked upon Maey studying his appearance. “I heard of a certain feral Syndar dancer who had a way with secrets. We were actually hoping to run across you among our travels. You must know that serving me has it’s perks however, you are mine. The wardens are a group who believe in honor and justice, but we realize that passion and pleasure also bring in necessary coin. Be mine and I promise you a life of thrills, secrets, and music to rile your very soul.” Maey couldn’t resist her. The woman was a master of words, and before he knew it he was nodding his head as Marrah placed a collar around his neck, “You’ll come
to love it, trust me.”
As Maey traveled with the Wardens he grew quite fond of those he traveled with. They all came from different lives and had their own tragedies and they understood him. Even though thinking of his parents always drove sadness into his face, he remembered his oath to his mother. To always bring joy to others and never harm. Some of the Wardens were indifferent about the oath, but respected it nonetheless. Marrah wanted to prepare Maey for a grand event they were preparing for. As the group prepared for their journey, he couldn’t be more excited to see what life among the Wardens and his new friends would bring.

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Audhild Wind Walker

PLAYED BY: Jennifer Schneiderman

CONTACT INFO: jecschne@gmail.com

CHARACTER NAME: Audhild Wind Walker Spiritclaw

GENDER: Female
CLASS: Cleric
AGE: 26
RACE: Ulven
HAIR: Brown
EYES: Blue

OCCUPATION: Truthseeker of Clan Spiritclaw

KNOWN SKILLS: Staff, Divine 1 & 2, Arcane 1, Witch Magic, Weaver Magic, Mana Reserves 1, Lore: Ritual, Lore: Decipher Magic, Meditation

BIRTHPLACE: Pack Wind Walker of Clan Spiritclaw

APPEARANCE: Purple face paint of Clan Spiritclaw, likes to have her hair back.

RELATIONSHIPS: Student of Ravina Spiritclaw. She has worked with all manner of factions and packs, notably The Order of Arnath’s Light, The Ravens, and Pack Longfang.

Audhild stood outside the study of her superior, shifting from foot to foot. In the past weeks she had barely slept and only eaten when she felt unconsciousness creeping at the back of her eyes. It had been a month since she had returned from the field; most of her waking hours had been spent meditating on what she had done.

She had spent years, in fact all her years, training to be a Truthseeker. The pursuit of knowledge was her divine purpose as chosen by Gaia. Through the movement of fate, that purpose, that pursuit of truth had led her to the Dirge swamp, seeking a way to contain the magic of a corruption idol within a living person. She had the necessary ritual, but she could not perform it herself. She needed three volunteers, and through deception recruited those around her to assist including a young pup from Pack Longfang. Audhild told her volunteers that the ritual would remove the corruption from an idol; she did not tell them where the corruption would go. Only three others knew of her intentions, one being a cleric who helped with the ritual, another the mage who took the corruption into his body, and third their companion, all of them members of Arnath’s Light. Audhild performed the ritual and sealed the corruption inside Ezra, the mage. She succeeded in her mission but did so through lies and manipulations. In search of knowledge, Audhild besmirched her own honor.

When she asked Gaia for the power to place an aura of protection on Ezra, he should have been safe, but still after the ritual he siphoned all mana around him and couldn’t cast as he used to. It was unexpected, but otherwise he seemed fine. Within the next months misfortune began to fall on Audhild and her friends in the Order. Ezra’s bones became brittle to the point where he could hardly walk, and violence and political strife placed a chokehold on the Order’s home of Starkhaven. She watched helplessly as each day Ezra wasted away in front of her, corrupted and losing his connection the stream of mana; he almost looked hollowed.

It felt as though Gaia was punishing her deeds, punishing those around her who took part in what some considered a heinous ritual. When she meditated she received no visions. When she asked Gaia for answers she received no response. Could Gaia not hear her? Or did she actively choose not listen?

Lost, but with a sense of duty to keep an eye on Ezra, Audhild followed an Order caravan to Dawntop, home to Pack Dawnrock of Clan Shattered Spear. Every day Audhild was plagued by the same questions with no answers. Gaia had led her to perform the ritual, so why wouldn’t she answer her now? Why would she turn her back on Audhild after she had sacrificed her own honor for the purposes of knowledge and the good of the continent? At her most desperate she saw two Longfang warriors in the middle of a rune reading.

It was primitive, but after much thought, she realized there were no other options left for her. She asked the Runes what to do; she asked how to make things right with Gaia. She asked how to be successful in her pursuit, how to go forward and regain her honor. The warrior, Thrand, cast her runes, and gave her the answer she had been looking for.

Her mission became clear: settle her own heart and heal those who she had wronged. Then, and only then, would she reap the reward of her endeavors. She began with the Warpack Leader, Sigurmon Shattered Spear, but he would not hear her words until she had received forgiveness from all the others that she had damaged through her manipulation. Audhild returned to her Clan in a daze, her mind cloudy and spinning. She had no idea how to even begin to right those she had wronged.

Countless hours of meditation had yielded nothing but the occasional cloudy vision. Though she couldn’t see what they aimed to show her, in every instance she felt the sense of movement, as if the world around her was always shifting. She had come to ask Ravina Spiritclaw for permission to join that movement. She needed to settle her heart and soul and go look for the truth which lies within herself. She would never find her answers here; she needed the freedom to follow her heart. She needed to go on a spiritual journey; one where she would be able to journey and search for what she sought. With an unsteady hand, she knocked on Ravina’s door and took a step inside.

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Abelot Grey

PLAYED BY: Sara Bahr

CONTACT INFO: 123cowner@gmail.com



CLASS: Rogue

AGE: 19

RACE: Human

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Green

OCCUPATION: Apprentice

KNOWN SKILLS: Archery, First aid

APPEARANCE: Nothing unusual

NOTABLE TRAITS: Invented the description “glabber fasting” and also has quite the perception when actually trying to use it.

RELATIONSHIPS: Companion to Wren Duncan

RUMORS: “I heard he got robbed three times… in a row?!”


Well, you see, it all started with my brother. Ever since we moved to this new world and my parents settled down, he would kiss their asses and make me do all the hard labor. Then the two wrote their wills and it got far, far worse. He even had a group of “enforcers” around the farm to make sure I wasn’t able to see my own parents! Then, in a cruel twist of fate, both of my parents died in a “barn fire”. My brother inherited all of the farm (or what was left of it), and proceeded to kick me out and sent me with barely enough supplies to even survive on!
It took three hours. THREE HOURS for someone to rob me. Then a day later, I was mugged again! Luckily they didn’t kill me for being empty handed. Instead, they took my favorite hat. Then, the next night while I was sleeping on the dirty ground, someone stole my fire starters! I was about to just give up. I walked probably a few more miles before I saw yet another shady figure. I was ready to be robbed and probably killed, but apparently I’m not good enough for death. This lady ignored me for a moment, which was kind of insulting as the last few people I have met actually spoke to me. I broke the uncomfortable silence and asked where she was headed after asking if she really wasn’t interested in robbing me. Before I got an answer, I decided to go with her anyways, and we have been travelling together ever since. After becoming a little more (barely) acquainted, the lady turned out to be a Ranger named Wren. She begrudgingly let me follow and even knocked out a bandit trying to steal the little I have left. A week or two after that she noticed my existence due to my complete incompetence at anything relating to violence. Apparently that needed to be changed, so she found me a sword from a poor bandit that was on the angry side of her sword and taught me how to “not die”. Swords aren’t really my style but hey, whatever works.
I eventually got my hands on some poor corpse’s bow and used said corpse for target practice. I missed. All of them. After a month or two of practice with whatever bow was available at the time I was more and more able to carry my own weight by hunting and gathering. Due to said bows being second or third-hand, they wouldn’t last more than two or three hunting trips before breaking.Wren started stockpiling bows. It got really, really monotonous and even more boring so I politely asked about five hundred times for us to go do something. She said no. Every time. So I told her I was going to go on my own anyways. She said no again, but then realized I wasn’t joking and followed just a little grumpily. Just a little.
We helped guard some posh merchant guy and killed and maimed quite a few mordok. It was great. They really are ugly. Like really ugly. Wow. And weird. Sitting down in front of our guards weird. Us being the guards. We held the fort we just delivered supplies to and then Wren got deathbolted. It was scary. More scary than most anything I’ve encountered. Even my brother. So I went and helped kill the shaman. It raged and shoved me into a tree, then died of its wounds. Good. She got dragged to a cleric and healed but it still scared the absolute shit out of me. If she died here I would probably lose it. But she didn’t because that kinda creepy cleric was kinda cool. We held out for the night before saying our goodbyes and walking back down out of the swamp to set up a small camp.

SECRET INFO: If I see my brother, he will die.

BIRTHPLACE: I was born on a prosperous farm in the kingdom of Aldoria, and my parents were wealthy enough to buy their way onto a ship to Mardrun when the undead began taking the borders of the kingdom. Then mY BROT—-

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Kaylek Nightriver

PLAYED BY: Cody Jackson
CONTACT INFO: coshjack@gmail.com / Facebook / Voxer

CHARACTER NAME: Kaylek Nightriver


CLASS: Warrior

AGE: 27

RACE: Ulven

HAIR: Brown/Grey

EYES: Depends on if I can get over my fear of contacts…Probably just brown

OCCUPATION: Warrior / Honor-Bound to Pack Longfang

KNOWN SKILLS: Shock troop. Kaylek fights with a large axe with wild/reckless abandon. He is most at home smashing skulls and shields.

BIRTHPLACE: Clan Nightriver – Pack Bloodmoon

APPEARANCE: Kaylek dresses in muted tones and wears armor with little to no ornamentation. Given his background he does not feel himself deserving of drawing attention.


RELATIONSHIPS: Kaylek has spent the last three years as an honor-bound to Pack Longfang. He has done whatever tasks have been requested of him around the settlement and has taken joy in teaching pups how to hold and swing an axe. He’s a known face around the settlement, if not a known name.

RUMORS: No need for Rumors. Kaylek makes no attempt to hide his past mistakes. The people of the settlement know where he comes from and why he is there. Outside of the Longfangs not much is known, nor does Kaylek carry himself in a way that would cause people to gossip.


Kaylek Nightriver’s Testimony to the Leadership of Pack Longfang: On the Matter of Honor and Service

Reyna, Ranmir, and Bryech in Attendance:

It goes without saying that the world was never the same after the colonists landed on Mardrun. Everyone remembers the bloody and vicious conflict that took place, but not everyone knows of the dishonor of Kragen Bloodmoon. Not everyone knows of the dishonor of his Warpack. Not everyone knows of the dishonor that plagues me. I witnessed with my own eyes Kragen’s defeat at the hands of a colonist woman. I witnessed with my own eyes the hatred and rage that burned inside his lieutenant, Bovna, as she gave us our orders. Under the dead of night we were to move into the colonists’ camp and, without words, kill every single one.

I was young, fool hardy, ready to follow orders and find glory on the battlefield, but there was no honor in our task; no glory to be found. So why was I there? My hands hesitated and my axe hung in the air. Was it too late to go back? My orders were clear, but my mind clouded. My stomach twisted in knots as I looked over my quarry and I was about to walk away when I noticed small movements. The human at my feet began to reach slowly for a knife lying next to their bedroll. My nerves steeled and I dropped my axe on her neck and at that point I knew I had stepped over the edge. My mind was clouded behind guilt and remorse, but my path was chosen and I walked it. We moved silently and purposefully through the camp and we left no survivors and when it was done we were sworn to secrecy so that no one but the Great Wolf would know of our treachery. Soon after that night the war with the colonists came to an end, but the peace was shallow. In short time the flames of the civil war flared.

I spoke with Jovin Nightriver many times between that night and the day that Kragen’s treachery was eventually uncovered. We often spoke at lengths about the nightmares that plagued us. Every night when we closed our eyes we stood before The Great Wolf; every night we were judged unworthy. Jovin is a veteran warrior. He’d been fighting and killing long before I was even born, and yet our actions that night weighed so heavily on his conscience that months later he still had trouble sleeping. There were others that felt as we did, but there were plenty more who still felt themselves in the right. We naturally began to distance ourselves from them. Warriors that we once counted as friends slowly and over time became people that we could hardly look in the eye; in that same vein they could hardly look at us.

One day, three years ago, Jovin informed me of something big that was in the works. He let me know that big changes should be expected and that the secrets were sure to be exposed soon. He made it very clear that we were likely to be punished by Branthur Nightriver himself and that he could not be sure of what that punishment would be. I was not given a lot of detail, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that I felt some relief. A heavy heart weighs more than an axe and I would take any punishment if it meant the beginning of a journey to cleanse my soul.

I stood with Jovin and watched as Branthur Nightriver came to our camp. I watched as he entered Kragen’s tent. I could hear the roars of his anger as our dishonor became known. I was sure that my punishment would be at the least branding, at the worst execution. I steeled myself to be prepared for judgement, but what I was not prepared for was the mercy of Stanrick Longfang. Jovin came to me after the meeting and informed me that a select few of us would be sent to Onsallas to be trained so that we can one day hope to regain our honor. I was choked up by the news, but over the previous several months I had learned to keep a straight face.

You all know the rest. It was three years ago that I came to the Longfangs. I have spent these three years working hard at whatever tasks have been needed. I have chopped wood, built walls, tended to Pineed Sap harvests. I have stood watch on long nights and helped teach the pups how to hold an axe. Through it all, with every free moment I have had, I have trained so that I may one day be found worthy of standing with Pack Longfang.

I do not stand before you today attempting to claim that I have cleared my name and deserve my honor. I stand before you to beg the chance to fight alongside the Longfang in the battles to come and earn my honor. I beg the privilege to stand proud beneath your banner and wear your flag. The true war is on our doorstep and I am ready to meet it head on. I have a long journey ahead. Let me take the next step.

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Name: Noemi

Race: Syndar

Class: Cleric

Gender: Female

Age: 23

Hair: Dark Brown

Eyes: Purple

Appearance: skull painted on her face, large horns on each side of her head.

I grew up alongside seven other Syndar who looked like me. Their parents took me in on the condition that I would be seen, not heard, speak only when spoken to, and that I must be sure to make myself useful. When the time came and the other children built their first altar they carved them meaningfully out of stone on a small cliff side surrounded by their friends and family. It was celebrated as it should be with sweets and flowers, music and dancing. When they painted their faces, they did so with beautiful pigments and paints made from the flowers in our mother’s garden.

I built my first altar alone at the bottom of a tree using a plate I stole while doing dishes and some dirty weeds I plucked from the garden. My face was painted as it always been with the ashes and soot of my cooking fires. The other children grew up as children should, surrounded by joy and showered in love. Mother always told me I could have that too, if I could just be better. Father always told me he often forgets I am even in the house.

“Your face. Your clothes. Everything about you is just so forgettable, girl.” He would tell me, after he tripping over my legs while I put away their cleaned clothes.

“How can I possibly remember a thing like you is here, standing behind all my beautiful children?” He would ask me, as we walk away from the family ofrenda, my offering still dangling in my grasp because I could not reach the platform.

“With all that dark paint you just blend into the night, I didn’t even see you had fallen behind.” He would say, stepping out of the doorway to let me into the house after I had to find my way home alone from the yearly parade of the dead.

He can laugh and scoff, but I’ll make him remember me someday.

The only time I’ve ever had for myself is in the garden. I’ve always found peace in the flowers, in their bright colors, in the promises they make me. They show me lifetimes of beauty, from the day they fully bloom to the day they are ground into dust and used to color my family’s faces. Each flower more beautiful than the last, I admire them even as their ground bodies are washed from faces and poured back into the earth. They promise me that even something so small and insignificant can bring joy to the saddest souls. I meditate there often, surrounded by blooms and blossoms. Sometimes it feels wrong to meditate away from my altar, but the amount of time I have spent nurturing the flowers makes me feel like, in a way, the garden is my altar too.

I’ve often looked out to the sea. Its still waters show me the world outside this island and without much effort I can see the land to the north and west. There are times I would swear I can reach out and touch those not so distant shores. I want nothing more than to leave behind what I don’t have here, to find a life worth living on the bigger land. I don’t care if everyone who lives there are all the same as the only outsiders I’ve encountered, the ones who float by past our shores on large wooden boats, the ones our elders say will only bring us harm. They tell us stories about the savages that are native to the bigger land, how they fought the humans that came on the first boats, how they all think we don’t belong here. On that we can agree; I also think I don’t belong here.

I’ll make it out. I’ll touch the shores of the bigger land. I want to. I have to.

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Al-Hasan Ibn Ahmad Al Saresh

CHARACTER BIO: Al-Hasan Ibn Ahmad Al Saresh, or Al-Hasan.

PLAYED BY: Andrez “Peanut” Beltran

CONTACT INFO: Andrez Beltran on Facebook.

CHARACTER NAME: Al-Hasan Ibn Ahmad Al Saresh, or Al-Hasan


Al Hasan – the Handsome

Ibn Ahmad – Son of Ahmad (Much Praised)

Al Saresh – of the City of Saresh


CLASS: Cleric

AGE: Late 30’s

RACE: Human

HAIR: Black

EYES: Brown

OCCUPATION: Seeker of Knowledge

KNOWN SKILLS: The ways of the Divine and Arcane arts, though not necessarily a practitioner of it.

BIRTHPLACE: Saresh in the May’Kar Dominon

APPEARANCE: Short; dark skinned; is typically in swathes of clothing and veiled.

NOTABLE TRAITS: Calm, never much raises his voice. Seeks to understand most viewpoints. Focuses on balance.

RELATIONSHIPS: None so much.

RUMORS: An open May’kar from Serai? Probably an Undead worshiper. All the others have been.


Al-Hasan Ibn Ahmad Al Saresh, or Al-Hasan was born in Saresh sometime prior to 230. He grew up in the City for his early childhood, but his recollections of it are sparse. He grew up with his parents who were scholars and teachers of knowledge. Time were hard as the Undead forces surrounded and besieged the Dominion. When the Bishop-King passed away, his parents lost heart. Taking an opportunity that presented itself, they left the Dominion for Vandregon.

When the Bishop-King rose, his parents rejoiced. When the Dominion turned to the Penitent, his parents mourned. They formed with the Mahsai of the True May’kar, but their hearts were broken. Both withered in the years after, becoming shells of their former selves. Al-Hasan was too young to know the Bishop-King, and only empathize with their loss.

When the chance came with the other True May’kar to make their way to Mardrun, his family took it. They followed Lord and Lady Al-Azarma to New Hope. There they settled, working in the community to teach and copy the knowledge saved.

When the settlement of Serai was found, Al-Hasan made the hard decision to make his own way there. The May’kar of New Hope we’re good to him, but were not his own. They were a past he never knew. He hoped to make a new future for himself.

The specters of the past are never far away. The great irony of Serai following their predecessors footsteps was not lost on him. He was Mahsai, and so was not one to outright reject differing ideas. The more he learned, though, the less he agreed with Al-Haddad and Bos Mezar position. He became withdrawn and sullen. The Gods no longer seemed to speak to him. His faith waned as Boz Mesar influence grew.

And then the Order of Arnath came, and his world changed in fire and death.

The Fist were strict but not heavy handed masters. As long as they were on good behavior the citizens of Serai were free to go about their normal lives. And go he did. He learned of this new God of Arnath. It was an interesting Path, but not one that naturally called to him. He listened for the God’s words in his ears, but never heard it. Over the years the words of many of the Gods grew silent to him.

When the Order Civil War occured, life changed again. More outsiders from the Fire Isle. They were an interesting bunch, reminding him of the bustle of New Hope. With that bustle brought news. The outside world had. The Lord Al-Azarma had passed. The Lady went into reclusion in Daven Hold, the Governess Katherine’s new domain. The May’kar influence in New Hope waned.

It took these visitors for Al-Hasan to realize that Serai, much as he had hoped, had not been his path. It was far too reclusive. He needed to return to the mainstream life of the colonies. When a delegation from Serai was set to go to Starkhaven, Al-Hasan went with. He had heard stories of the Order of Aranth’s library, and the Chapter of the Light even had opened theirs. Perhaps he could learn more on his trip there. The Order held no sway for him, but knowledge was good. There was a tradition much loss of the May’kar. One of service and righteousness. The Paladins. Perhaps if he sought their path he could find his way. And what better place to start than the home of Pious Crusaders.

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