Current Player List:Name: Koios
Sex: Male
Age: 14
Race: Canide
Deity: His domain falls under that of the goddess Phytta, but he pays homage to no god. In essence, he roams godless and follows no deity.
Title: Sometimes is called "Koromaru." By his closer friends, he's referred to by just "Koro" or "Koi."
Background: Koios is a younger, solitary Canide who lived in a village along the Sapphire River with his older sister, Phoebe. The two of them stayed at the outer edges of the village, generally isolating themselves from society, though Koios still developed good friendship with a small group of friendly Canides and some Lionfolk near the outer parts of the villages. His parents disappeared under suspicious circumstances when Koios was still very young, which has always been a mystery that remains to be solved for Koios. Still, his sister took god care of huim until he reached around the age of 11-12, where she, too, also disappeared without a trace. Koios was at an age where he could take care of himself, but life was never the same after the disappearance of a third family member. Now, he sees to find what happened to his parents and his sister. Along with that, he aspires to follow a path of learning to heal others with his talents, hoping to remove strife in this world and make a better future for both the Lionsfolk and the Canides.
Description: Koios has a medium physical build for a Canide. He is on the weaker side in terms of pure strength, but he is agile and able to move with grace. He takes on the appearance of a Husky-Inu with white and grey fur - grey on his back, white on his front. He generally wears a happy yet somber face, preferring to mask his true thoughts if it means that others around him will be happier. His irises are of a sapphire color. His speaking tone is soft and well-meaning.
Personality: Koios is generally cheerful and calm on the outside but always anxious and nervous on the inside. Since he lost his family members, he hasn't been very open about his feelings or emotions. He prefers to remain stoic and calm externally, so as to be support for his friends. He is caring and friendly to most everyone he meets, but he doesn't go out of his way to meet new friends.
Skills: He is a novice within the arts of healing, yet has no real experience outside of personal dabbling. He is also quite knowledgable in nature's plants and animals around the area of the Sapphire River due to his time having lived there. Other than that, his main abilities lie in his high agility, high willpower, and small experience in healing.
Items: A small fragment of a clear crystal that is tied to a rope necklace. He inherited this from his sister shortly before she disappeared.
Name: Tedrikk
Sex: Male
Age: 33
Race: Reptilian
Deity: Tedrikk has found no god to call his own, but he tries to appease and give a little to all of them when he can, just to stay on the safe side.
Background: Tedrikk is out to prove just how intelligent, capable and influential the reptilian race is - or perhaps just himself. The world seems to think all reptilians dim-witted brutes; Tedrikk is determined to prove them wrong. Being frailer, relatively speaking, than most of his nest-kin back home on the banks of the Iolite River, certainly contributed to this worldview - coming into contact with the trade-ships rolling along the River gave Tedrikk a need to go out in the world and prove his worth to the world. As the years passed, Tedrikk saw much of the world, but achieved little towards this. Gradually, his ambitions have shifted to just leaving his mark, somehow, to be remembered - perhaps ruling some great kingdom of many races, as a wise and cunning king. He would be satisfied with much less, though - a trade caravan, maybe, or a guild of his own.
Description: Small-sized for a reptilian, Tedrikk still towers over most from the other races of Moisson. His scales are a dark, greyish green. They jut out slightly along his broad, many-toothed crocodilian head. Large slitted eyes shine in a way that seems slightly manic, especially when coupled with his broad, sharp-toothed smile. Tedrikk has a habit of looming over and bending towards people he is talking with in a rather predatory way.
Tedrikk is usually clad in simple, sturdy reddish peddler's robes. He carries a journal and an oversized - reptilian hands are not the most precise - set of writing tools, one of many filled along his travels.
Personality: Tedrikk is eager, talkative and focused on the matter at hand to an unsettling extent. He is somewhat prone to becoming anxious when things don't go his way, which usually leads to him resolving the situation with violence or fleeing, but usually he seeks to talk things out to prove his wits and intellect to anyone nearby (and to himself). Tedrikk's voice is quick and snappish, almost panicked, speaking in urgent bursts and rising higher the more nervous he is.
Skills: Times as a peddler, craftsman, caravan guard have all left their mark, but Tedrikk's greatest asset is certainly his tongue and manner. He speaks a multitude of languages, but more than that he speaks them in a smooth, convincing way, which has come in use when persuading townspeople to buy the knicknacks and junk he carried as a peddler and crafter. Aside from that, he knows most weapons, if not exactly masterfully, and despite his size is quite capable in sneaking around and staying hidden when necessary.
Additional Information: Imagine a towering, reptile-man used car salesman.
Sex: Male
Age: 22
Race: Mouseling
Deity: The Nameless Goddess
Title: Barrelbreaker
Background: Mynse was born in a litter of a dozen aboard the ship Smiling Crook-a river barge, and floating home, of a small clan of Mouselings who traded up and down the Iolite river and related areas. Despite the name (which doesn't translate well into the common tongue), they were honest merchants, bartering raw plants and pelts harvested from from the Amber Swamps, gems and glass the Citrine desert, and foodstuffs and craftsgoods from the shallows of the Western sea. Mynse grew up larger and stronger than his brothers and sisters (named Conai, Lynse, Carth, Jynse, Coop, Goose, Gynse, Flyyck, Tynse, Tyrune, and Wynse), and when they ran into trouble he consequently found himself picking up a weapon and defending them against all sorts of trouble, be it bullies or bandits or blood hungry beasts. He eventually began training in the art of "finger-dancing", a style of combat relying on speed, cunning, and agility, over power-he chose the twin axes, as his specialty, as he had often found himself ranging about overland whenever the Smiling Crook made landfall, and he enjoyed the utility of them. Occasionally he even brought down small game.
When it came to his 20th year-the name year, the traditional year River Mouselings choose their path in life, and many leave their homes so as to reduce the strain on their families-Mynse took his tiny axes and chopped a large wooden barrel in half, a terrific feat for a Mouseling-he never told anyone that he had tactfully chosen the barrels weakest point for his attack, rather than using pure strength.
Mynse had decided to be a hero, and travel the world. For the last two years, he's served as a "Sniffer"-a sort of licensed bounty hunter and investigator, helping the law find bad people and put them away. Mynse has learned alot about how others think, and the like-that he never wanted to. Of course, he's also been changed by his experiences, and not all for the better-gambling has unfortunately become a vice of his, and he has only just adjusted to the fact that he has to pay back all the money he lost. Which is quite a bit.
Description: Mynse is a Mouseling with a light and thin build, smooth grey hair, a white patch on the crown of his head, and a twitchy white tail which is predictably crooked at three ends. He has excitable, brilliant green eyes, polished white buck-teeth, and a overlarge black nose. He usually dresses in simple, dependable clothing, that gives him full ease of movement and comfort-a "simple" grey tunic, the sort with lots of hidden pockets, and tough leather pants. He usually wears no shoes unless he's required to do politely-as River Mouselings have tough feet that are like leather. He is somewhat nearsighted, and wears a pair of spangly brass spectacles when he has to read.
Personality: Mynse is the short who leads forward-he will do a thing he sets his mind to, readily volunteering and, if not taking command, then certainly taking initiative. He is a fearless as a finger-dancer as there ever was, and with that comes a deep pride, and abiding confidence in his own ability. He is usually as friendly as his race is famed to, but is more combative and willing to come to blows than others of his kind. He has often found that diplomacy is best backed with a strong position. Mynse holds family and friends in high regard, and enjoys the company of others-he makes oaths easily, and tries never to break his word. He is blamelessly shallow, and keeps himself immaculately groomed. He is a self-proclaimed fool when it comes to money, and spends it freely-he enjoys gambling quite alot, and losing or winning he is usually satisfied he took the chance. Mynse loves the waters of the world, and all their wonders and dangers. He has never been seriously wounded, and like most young mice, believes he's going to live forever.
Skills: Mynse is a small, agile fighter with loads of bravado and two tiny whirling axes. He's used to going quiet and unseen, and striking from ambush. His tiny hands are very nimble and precise, adapting to tasks easily, though he lacks great strength due to his size. He knows how hunt, to dress a kill and cook the meat, though not very tastefully. He is an expert in the water, a swift swimmer (good, since Mouselings have small lung capacity), and is a solid boatsmouse-he can draw oars or sails as easy as the wind blows. He has a brilliant, if plodding mind-and a good nose, both literally and metaphorically. He knows how to analyze a guilty person by their actions and words, and knows how to read a room and tell what happened before he was there. Mynse is a terrible liar himself, but he can almost always tell when someone is trying to lie to him.
Items: Mynse carries only a few special items of note, preferring to travel lightly-a cord made from the twined tailhairs of his family members, pair of brass spectacles for reading, a rain-hat with a floppy brim he bought two years ago, and his two axes, Biter and Snapper. Biter is wielded in the left hand, his dominant one, and is single edged, heavy, and decorated with the hanging claws of his first kills-it's shaped like a billhook. Snapper is a two bladed axe, longer, thinner and sharper, with hooked ends for yanking his opponents weapons away, or their feet from under them.
Additional Information: Mynse owes quite a bit of money to some quite unsavory persons. He is not a bad gambler, but he is completely incapable of bluffing-and too young to realize how to work that to his advantage.
Name: Varrus
Sex: Male
Age: 32
Race: Flora
Deity: Phytta & Aqus
Title: The shaman
Background: Growing up in the Onyx forest is never easy, but it has its upsides. Most other races shy away from it, so Varrus has not seen many outsiders in his life. Of course, those that do venture into the forest are the bravest of all, or the most desperate.
Since childhood Varrus has been trained to become a healer. Learning from a very old Floran, he has learned to use magic, together with normal techniques and herbs, to heal wounds and cure ailments. In the most desperate cases it fell on him to call outside help, making deals with the spirits of the forest to give him the strength to heal the most terrible of wounds.
Upon completing his training he decided that he would not choose a place to settle down, instead travelling all over the forest to help those who need him. Travelling as much as he did, he took up music and storytelling, finding that it helps both on lonely nights and to entertain those he sometimes travelled with. The music had an unintended side effect of sometimes soothing angry spirits.
On one fateful day, at the very edge of the forest, he came across an outsider. A mouseling, wounded gravely. Varrus nursed the mouseling back to health, exchanging stories with the outsider as he healed up over the course of several days. Intrigued by the outside world, he decided to go out of his forest, hoping to learn new techniques and to help as many people as he could.
Description: Tall for a Floran, his 'skin' is much darker than others of his race. A single flower grows on the side of his head, its colour a deep shade of purple.
Personality: Varrus is compassionate and calm. Being trained as a healer has left him an almost complete pacifist, he considers everyone to be a potential friend. As this is the first time he has left the Onyx Forest, he really has no idea of other cultures and races, thus coming over as somewat awkward to others.
Skills: Varrus is an accomplished healer, both in normal medicine as magical healing. He has extensive knowledge of plants and herbs and potion making. As with many Florans, he is an accomplished magic user, focusing mostly on healing, manipulating the nature around him and inlisting the aid of spirits.
Items: A grey travelling cloak, a walking stick, guitar.
Additional Information: (optional, if this doesn't clash with the lore or anything) The flower on his head isn't actually part of his body, but rather a serperate organism that houses a tiny spirit. The spirit doesn't have much power and takes the form of a very small, colourful bird when summoned.
Name: Burm of Brunebristle
Sex: Male
Age: 19
Race: Ursan
Deity: Burm worships the strength of his ancestors, the valleys where they walked, and the mountains where they died, but he reveres and respects all gods and spirits of the world.
Title: -
Background: Burm was the third cub of the fourth litter of his mother. Born to the great Matron Brunebristle, a large and respected female from Brunbristle Den in the western parts of the mountains, Burm was well provided for over the course of his childhood. The territory where they lived was bountiful - the area having been tended for generations - and his mother big enough to frighten off any intruders, so Burm grew large and strong. Like his siblings, Burm was taught how and where to look for food in the wild during both summer and winter, but also how to tend his mother's fruit gardens and bee hives. He was taught the stories of his ancestors and how to venerate them and insure their protection, and how to live off the land without angering the spirits that dwell there - the tributes they demand, gifts they may grant, and the curses their wrath might incur. He was taught of how the spirits of his ancestors still dwelt in the mountains where they once had lived and been laid to rest, and how they would protect him from other malicious forces if he respected them in return.
As he grew older, Burm came to realise that the mountains may not hold place for him. He was large enough to claim good territory for his own, but he did not appreciate the thought of having to constantly contend over it with other Ursankind, perhaps even his own siblings and relatives. In fact, he did not like the premise of living a life constantly watching for intruders at all. He thought that while there was many of his kind in the mountains, the world beyond was a different matter. From what little he had been told about it, the world to the north was largely devoid of Ursans, and to Burm it seemed like finding a place for himself there would be a much more leisurely project. His mother objected, fearing that he would not be under the boon of his ancestors in those foreign lands, but in the end, she knew that all of Ursan blood have to make their own way. As Burm prepared to leave she gave him a final gift to carry with him, so that his ancestors would always be with him wherever he went.
Life up north wasn't as easy as Burm had assumed, however, and oft-times even more conflict-full than back home, especially for an outsider and brute such as himself. For the last years, he's been travelling the roads, finding work where he could, now bull-headedly determined not to give up. When he heard the rumours of great adventure, he followed them as much out of curiosity as out of not really knowing where else to go.
Description: Pretty large even for an Ursan, Burm has an imposing frame, completely covered in thick, brown fur. He looks a bit roadworn, the fur a bit dusty and matte and shaggy, as he doesn't groom himself as much as is usual any more. Attached to broad girdle is a sack containing his few personal possessions, tools, and necessities. He has large, calm, orange-brownish eyes that rarely looks anything but calm, but his body language, in contrast, is like an open book.
Personality: Burm is curious and impulsive in nature, and once he has made a decision he tends not to dwell upon it much, or consider new information, even if it passes a lot of time between decision and action. He is proud and assured of himself, and places great importance on his heritage and ancestors. While he is usually brave and forwards, he is superstitious and careful when it comes to magic and spirits, believing them to have great influence of the lives and fortunes of the common folk of the world. Aside from that, he puts greater importance on physical strength than intellectual, and often views those smaller than himself with, while not outright disdain, a sort of "older-brother" mentality of irrelevancy of opinion and ability. His travels has made him a bit more friendly and welcoming to strangers than the usual Ursan, but he is still quick to anger, and quick to fight, when he feels insulted.
Skills: Burm knows how to survive in the wilds, how to find and/or catch food and what herbs, plants and mushrooms that are useful and which are poisonous. He knows how to handle himself in a fight.
Additional Information: Burm carries, tied around his neck, a necklace containing some bones of some of his ancestors, but most importantly the teeth of his grandfather. This was the gift given to him when he left, and he believes that as long as it remains with him he is still under the protection of his ancestors and can seek their counsel and guidance. Apart from that, his only possessions are necessities for the road, and as far as clothes goes he wears only his girdle and large, worn cloak,
Name: "Snowy"
Sex: Female
Age: 20
Race: Mouseling
Deity: Gaia
Title: Snowy has a title; she does not prefer being called with a title.
Description: -
Personality/Skills: Snowy is well-known, not by popularity but by prior observation after meeting others, for her perception and skill in usage of her senses. Most ascribe her to a wilderness hunter, given her knack of awareness, foresight and insight. She is also described to be very proficient with wind instruments--especially the flute, able to tune and notice underlying ideas within music. Others say she is a very inquisitive person, as well as a deeply benevolent and philosophical one. They say she has a level-head on her shoulders, and is a very good judge-of-intent. Her only weakness is her thought processes--she is a stubborn creature, yet very agreeable and open-minded, able to judge herself honestly and her perceptions of others, oft getting carried away with seeing their inner good without including the idea of them not seeing it themselves; her personality thinks along the parallel of duality, able to see all perspectives at any one time of a situation though this begets the aspect of gullibility. She is a dextrous and agile individual, with a high affinity for personal growth and development, though more focused on the fine arts: that of stealth and agility, that she prefers evasion and utilization of any foe's energy against them towards their downfall, without raising a hit back.
Items: Snowy is clad with a cloak over an upper body tabard, form-fitting yet ultimately useful in movement due to its lightness and lacking looseness--making it hard to discern her gender. Underneath both is a long shirt, folded up at the wrists, used to both cover the rest of her body (along with a matching pair of pants). She carries two weapons on her person: a concealed stiletto-like dagger in her sleeve, and a shortbow along with its matching quiver slung around her shoulder with an adjustable strap, commonly used for hunting though keeping both on-person impedes no lack of movement on her part.
She also carries a convenient satchel among her person for storage, currently being used to house a variety of sweets, treats, pastries, and other 'rations' as she calls them for good health and proper diet.
Additional Information: Snowy has a detailed past which she chooses not to disclose, though it is readily assumed from long contact with her that she strives for perfection or superiority in the form of wisdom and honing of the self--though driven by what seems to be a heartfelt passion of a mix of veiled anger, determination, or merely plain, stubborn bull-headedness.
She has an extreme perception of smell rather than sight, and is said to have encountered many advantages through that method of 'seeing', said to have unnatural talents with the use of her senses, like "smelling" magic for instance.
Name:Dysis.
Sex:Female.
Age: 36
Race:Avian, High born.
Deity:Arrow and Aparrati.
Title:
Backstory:Dysis never did fully adapt into the high born's life style, even after she matured, her great grandfather was a lowborn,she's always going out to practice her flying or trying out some basic combat moves, she isn't really liked by either caste, the high born's view her as low filth that shouldn't be considered High Born, the Low borns view her simply as a high and mighty noble who is practicing combat but wouldn't be able to survive a swift breeze, she feels she must prove herself to both, so when a group of adventurers were passing through, she took her chances and went with them, besides if she ever would become matriarch then she'd need some hands on experience with the world.
Description:Speckled brown with blue wing and tail feathers, she has white markings on her face and back, she's wearing a particularly ornamental amulet.
Personality:Any mention about her lineage, joke or insult, will quickly come to blows, she's often reckless and willing to confront any challenge head on, she doesn't really have much respect for rules or laws, she likes to take risks.
Skills:Has some basic skill with a spear, she's a good tactician and she is good at flying.
Items:A simple sturdy spear, she wears a amulet she inherited from her grandmother, it has a large emerald in it, she also wears a necklace made from the feathers of Avian's she has had disagreements with, lastly she wears a simple Headdress, also made from feathers.
Name: Danni
Sex: Female
Age: Young, relatively.
Race: Insectoid Drone (though more of a worker than a drone)
Deity: Null. He's the only one who listens.
Title: Dissolute
Background: while the combination of a humanoid form and an insect-like aesthetic is quite admirable in most ways, there is the unfortunate problem that it does tend to play havoc with certain design principles behind each being. In Danni's case, this unholy pairing has managed to produce a trait that, quite frankly, makes it surprising that she wasn't culled shortly after birth. You see, Danni's accessory olfactory system, the very thing that makes conventional Insectoid society even possible, the most optimal way of unconscious information sharing ever known, doesn't seem to function at all - and not only did this result in her being even more shiftless than the average drone somehow, it also resulted in her losing her way practically the first time she was sent out to forage for exotic food materials in the woods - only after she wound up at a town 20 kilometers away did Danni suspect something was wrong at all, and by that point she was hopelessly lost, and her rather miniscule intellectual abilities could only take her so far from there - so she just started working for food in whatever places would take her, going through life with a happy-go-lucky attitude occasionally tempered by unspeakable brutality toward things that stand in her way.
Description: as with any female Insectoid, Danni is significantly larger than her male counterparts, who are mostly just breeders by nature, her six limbs rather developed, and her antennae somewhat long to facilitate moving through dark tunnels. Her carapace is rather shiny, with a greenish structural sheen masking its black color adequately.
Personality: like you would expect from a worker with no work to do, Danni's mind often goes to strange places when separated from immediate goals - given an abstract goal, she will often come up with one of two plans - a highly roundabout, convoluted idea that can go wrong in about a hundred different ways or a brutal oversimplification that may solve the problem from a purely technical perspective, but cause a bit more damage than anybody would like to deal with at the moment. Her freakish strength certainly does not help mitigate that second sort of plan's prevalence, though her imagination often gives it competition. She's a very goal-oriented person, like most of her kind, just completely bereft of any meaningful or persistent goals.
Skills: hand-to-hand combat, application of brute force, cooking, climbing things.
Name: Fig Wig
Sex: Male
Age: 27
Race: Wasteling
Deity: None. He believes they are real, he just doesn't believe he needs them or that they should be here.
Title: The Mad
Background: He was a scavenger back in the Wastelands. he would take any trash he could find, and attempt to make it into something greater than the sum of its parts. This would work sometime, but most of the time it blew up in his face. From this, he made his most durable invention, a robot which hasn't melted down or blown up in 3 years. This is his most precious possession.
He made home in the ruins of Dia. He found a library which was untouched, and from there, he learned and experimented in the many forms of magic. He then had an idea. He may be able to restore the greatness of the old Mouselings of Dia if he learned all he could. So from this, he left the Wastelands, to bring glory back to the Mouseling kind
Description: He has an icy blue eye and a dark green eye. His teeth are broken, rotten, and mutated, with one pointing out like a tusk. He has saggy pink skin with warts, with spots of brown and patches of brown hair. He is short for a Wasteling, and of stout build.
Personality: He is normally obsessed with his work, barely paying attention to others and constantly rambling to himself about gibberish. When you manage to get his attention, he is a stubborn and grumpy sort, with a snide opinion on what you have to say, and more than eager for you to finally shut up so that he can get back to his work. If you want to learn about what he does however, he lights up, and gets a rare grin on his face as he completely bombards you with information and asks you to help with this or ask what you think of that.
Skills: Experimenter of magic. Has a constant stream of ideas flowing through at all times, and is a natural problem solver. Has tough skin, from years of persecuation as a Wasteling and from many failed magic experiments.
Additional Information: He has a personal robotic assistant which does most of the manual labor and acts as a bodyguard.
Name: Keshan
Sex: Male
Age: 27
Race: Reptilian
Deity: He worships Null, concentrating mainly on the Void aspect.
Title: Hollow (private, not well-known), Unstable
Background: Keshan's great size and ferocious behavior made it natural for him to follow path of the warrior. Easily clawing a place for himself in military hierarchy, he started to seek strong opponents to challenge himself - even those outside of his own race. Unfortunately for him, thanks to his growing arrogance he crossed paths with a magician. The conflict ended with a pile of dead bodies - mostly innocent villagers - and one half-minded person left standing. From this moment onward, the Furious Keshan, proud reptilian warrior, was no more.
Goals: Before the magical incident, his dreams of life were mostly concentrated on finding another decent warrior to duel with or on rising a few ranks in the military, with a random thought about settling somewhere with a beautiful female - or two. Now, he thinks solely about restoring himself to the previous state of mind, unable to truly live with what he has become.
Description: Keshan is considered a big specimen even among his own kind. His moss-green scales have a light black tinge to them, especially prominent on head and along the spine. His eyes, that were once fiery orange, now have a dull yellow color, reverting back to their former state only in the midst of battle. His muscled body is richly covered in all sorts of scars from past battles, most significant of them being a huge burn in the middle of his torso.
Personality: After the magical incident, his original personality of a fierce warrior is suppressed most of the time. Outside of rage mishaps, he is very calm, collected and observant, but at the same time quite weary and indifferent to others. When he shows traces of his original persona, his behavior becomes erratic and increasingly bloodthirsty. Then, he also seeks excitement of a battle with strong opponent. While he sees usefulness of magic, his past experience with it left him intolerant of all mages.
Skills: Keshan is very experienced at operating his huge body in combat, especially when using wrestling moves or staff-based weapons. He is also an amazingly good swimmer, though climbing (and, to a certain degree, jumping) may prove difficult.
Item: Ranseur made from sturdy oak, with a sharpened tip of blackened steel. Weapon could be disassembled, with pole easily passing as a travel staff for gigantic reptilian.
Lenglon
Author
Topic: Moissonic Tales: The Dream Saga - Turn 3 (Last Updated: 11/12/14) (Read 11940 times)