Name : Diana Alemni
Class: Mage Trainee > Mage > Sage
Character Specific Skill: Renewal
Affinity: - Dark
Personal Fault <T>: Fidgety - When Diana uses half or less MOVE, -15 Hit
Personal Skill <T>: - Together, then - When within 3 spaces of 3+ friendly units, +10 Critical
- Personal Skill <F>: - Pyro - When wielding a tome of the Fire subcategory, +2 Base Damage
- - Personal Skill <P>: - Will be added later
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Preferred stats: - Skill, Magic
Weapon profs: - Anima (E)
Progression spent: - 330%
HP: 17 (70%)
STR: 2 (10%)
MAG: 5 + 1 (70%)
SKL: 4 + 1 (50%)
LCK: 2 (20%)
DEF: 0 + 2 (40%)
RES: 3 (40%)
SPD: 4 (30%)
CON: 3 (---)
AID: 2 (---)
MOV: 4 (---)
Current Stats and Progression:
HP: 17 (70%)
STR: 2 (10%)
MAG: 5 + 1 (70%)
SKL: 4 + 1 (50%)
LCK: 2 (20%)
DEF: 0 + 2 (40%)
RES: 3 (40%)
SPD: 4 (40%)
CON: 3 (---)
AID: 2 (---)
MOV: 4 (---)
Inventory:
Name |Type| |(-)| |RNG| |MT| |WT| |CR| |Hit| |QL|
Wind |Wind| |(E)| |1-2| |3| |5| |0| |100| |40|
Vulnerary (3/3)
Battle Stats (with Wind):
AT : 9
Hit: 111, with no penalty or bonus
AS : 2
Eva: 6
Crt: 2.5 (not sure whether to round up or down)
DG : 2
Bio:
Diana grew up in the capital city of Thola, Equina. Her parents were relatively unknown, but skilled, alchemists, also mages. Her life was somewhat normal for a mage, minus the odd violent explosion from the alchemy lab. She was being trained to be the next great alchemist of the family, when disaster struck.
Her parents had just developed a new way to make healing potions, just as effective as the other ones, but made of more common materials, and cheap to produce. Diana was ten years old.
But it was not to be. When Diana's parents announced a new, revolutionary discovery, the other alchemists were scared for their business. What if it was some cure-all that rendered all prior potions obsolete? They'd be ruined!
In the night, a group of men and women clothed in black came to the door. A fire was set, burning her parents, their laboratory, and their discovery to the ground. Diana was taken by one of the women, who was not willing to kill a child. She was dragged off, and put in a caravan heading to a small town on the borders between Nostor and Vathatan. However, as they were nearing the town, a Nostor-based bandit group attacked, and Diana was taken prisoner, destined for a life of slavery.
Or rather, destined for ten years of slavery. Ten years of obeying the whims of a semi-stationary bandit group, be it cleaning their horses, sharpening their swords, brewing them potions. Whatever they asked, had to be met with a simple “Yes, master.” or she would suffer a severe beating. There was only one of them that even treated her as a person: a boy about her age, the son of the leader. The group had thought they had completely dominated her will. They were wrong.
From the day she was stolen to her twentieth birthday- not that most of the bandits cared enough to remember it- she practiced magic in the dead of night, preparing for her eventual escape.
The night she turned twenty, the group attacked a caravan from Thola. Diana was ordered to clean the blood and bodies from the cart, so they could use it later. She replied as usual, and went about the job. She did so for a good hour, until while scrubbing the passenger’s section, she found a loose floorboard. When she took it out of the way, a small collection of green, blue, and red books were found. As she touched the one on top, she felt power: these were tomes. She stuffed as many as she could into the small bag she was allowed to keep for food (the bag was not given out of kindness- it was simply so she wouldn’t get in the way during meal times). On the way back, she quietly told her friend to go to his basement and not leave until morning.
She waited until around midnight: the bandits were all either drunk or unconscious at this point, reveling in their victory. One of the men came into her small tent, to ask her to make him a potion to get rid of his hangover. When he told her to get on with it, she said one thing she had not said in almost a decade: No. When the man brought down a hand to hit her for her disobedience, he suddenly found that his hand was no longer present, sliced off by wind as sharp as a razor.
The rest of the camp didn’t know what hit them. All they saw was a man being thrown through the wall of a shack, followed by the camp slave, the buildings behind her burning as an emotion they’d never seen on her appeared on her face: a rage stemming from a decade of abuse forced servitude. That night, the impromptu village the bandits had set up as a base burned.
In the confusion and attempt to douse the flames, the smoke had been spotted by a roaming militia group- Ashlyssa's group-, which helped in her escape. Later she left for Vathatan, as she felt Nostor to dangerous and had no home in Thola anymore. She later joined a group of mercenaries for employment, as she could not find a job elsewhere that she could do, with her lack of formal education and social skills.