Wings of Fury 2

Wings of Fury 2

Welcome to Alma, a world of the branch filled with myths, monsters, and danger.

This is a time of heroes and legends, where Songs are sung of past and future.

How will you shape the world?

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You are an adventurer working in the Chunard city of Marray, answering the call of the great dragonslaying knight Sir Henri de Montenay. Called the Red Thorn of Montenay, he is a renowned warrior of great valor, and seeks to slay the dragon Naissyri in the Giant's Tail Mountains. Naissyri has long been a threat to the region, consuming farmers and cattle alike, and many are the knights who have tried and failed to slay her.

Who are you?

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Name: What is your character's name?
Species: What species does your character belong to?
Song: Is your character attuned to a Song? If so, which one?
Age: How old is your character?
Origin: What town, country, and world does your character come from? Feel free to go into detail if you wish.
Home: What town, country, and world does your character live in? Describe their home.
Appearance: A description of your character! Things like facial appearance, build, height, eye color, hair color, fashion sense, scars, tattoos and whatever else you'd like to include.
Personality: Your character's personality. This might include their fears, ambitions, tendencies, habits, and whatever else.
Biography: Your character's history! The more detailed, the better! Whatever you want to include to flesh out your character's past and how it shaped them into the person they are today.
Important Skills: What skills does your character possess?
Important People: Include immediate family, as well as any important friends, family, or other NPCs you wish to have in your backstory. Make sure to include whether or not they are a Song user, and which Song if so.
Inventory: Any important items and keepsakes.


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I have included a ton of information on the setting in the codex. Links to that will be on the Wings discord channel.

This will be a play by post game similar to Masks and the original Wings, where most of the action ends up happening in individual PMs. It should be noted that this is not a DIRECT sequel to Wings of Fury 1 on the Chocolate Pi forums. It is a spiritual successor with the same sort of idea.

Name: Brom Buster Barnaby Brambleberry

Species: Halfling (Erass)

Song: A druid. So he's just a Second Song Wizard (plantlife).

Age: How old is your character? 70 and still kicking, babie!

Origin: Crinklecrankum, Erass. A villa in a biolumscient forest, famous for its wavy-glass walls and extremely dangerous wildlife. Said wildlife is of various hues and glowy-tude, but also of various venomity and horrible predation methods. Unforunately, the exotic dangerous wildlife is why Crinklecrankum is constantly attacked by non-Erassian raids, looking to get those sweet, sweet wildlife for their industries. As the result, halflings (which are the exclusive population of the villa) are hostile towards anyone who has the slightest whiff of "overworld outsider" on them. They are remarkably more okay with Erassian adventurers (as long as they aren't hostile).

Home: Whimsygrove. A small, picturesque if cookie-cutter village in Chunard, filled with predominantly a large majority of halflings (both Erass and Chunadi) and a minority population of goblins. The houses are predominantly built for shortfolk, and often are burrows instead of your usual houses. The neighbors are pleasant, if a little insufferable and prone to passive-aggressive competitions i.e. telegraphing insults via artfully trimmed shubbery.

Appearance: A hamsteresque humanoid with a chipmunk stripe on a back and big bushy tail. So many whiskers to the point it looks like a bushy beard. Soulful eyes that pull you in a fear-inducing adorable way. Kind of spherical, but to be fair, most of it is fur. He's still fat though.

Wears a big huge hat with bioluminscent mushrooms grown on it and a big droopy rope with little crystal buttons. Constantly surrounded by a big cloud of biolumiscent pollen, which definitely trails behind him.

Personality: Friendly but charismatic in an aw-shucks awkward sort of way. Prone to overdramatics. Extremely sedentary, but has the occasional vivid fantasy about going on an epic adventures. Also a staunch vegetarian and an lover of animals. He believes to live well is a moral life, although he isn't immorally decadent. Sometimes what's all to life is burrowed under blankets with a good book, while nursing on a delicious cup of mushroom cocoa.

Biography: Brom originally travelled to Alma due to a scientific expedition (since the comparatively less dangerous wildlife of Alma is fascinating to him). However, he decided to stay because he was tired of the xenophobia of Crinklecrankum and to be honest, he kind of liked the place. So he moved his entire clan over to Alma (it was very expensive and took a lot of time) and settled in a nice villa, somewhere in the Chunadie empire. Eventually, his wife died and his kids grew up and had their own children. He eventually retired from active research from CBACO to take up his other true passion: cooking. His dishes are amazing and applauded among the Whimsygrove neighborhood.

Life at Whimsygrove was getting pretty samey though, especially since the house was more empty without his wife. So when he heard about a dragonslaying event. Well...that was interesting! But macabre! Still, this was his only chance at seeing a once-in-a-lifetime appearance of a legendary creature. So of course, he is going to come there and watch what is going on.

Of course he is going to bring snacks. This IS a show right?

Important Skills: Second Magic user (plantlife), botany, gardening, halfling folk herblore. He also knows the Chanadie sign language and his native Erass language.

He also knows a bit about wildlife in general, not just plants. He is also a damn good cook. His vegetarian and vegan dishes are to die for. His small-scale production of cordials, jams, preserves, and other delicious treats are amazing.

He is a nimble climber and can squeeze through small spaces, although it takes a lot of exertion on his part because he is an old man. He also has massive pouch-cheeks that extend down his neck, where he can store small objects in (usually his house keys and wallet).

Important People: The Brambleberry Clan, whomst he is the patriarch of. He has SO MANY KIDS and also SO MANY GRANDCHILDREN, whomst he all loves. However, there are two people closer to his heart:

Liv Logan Lemongrass, his wife, unfortunately passed away and whomst Brom regards extremely fondly. A geomancer and geologist, who makes gardening soils, fertilizers, pesticides, and other gardening supplies. She also had a cottage-level industry of making pretty crystal jewelry as a side business. Likes to talk about rocks and mineral cycles to the point of obnoxiousness. A weirdo who was extremely obessesed with her subject of passion and to be honest, that was extremely sexy to Brom.

Beth Botany Benjamin Brambleberry, his granddaughter, a Second Magic apprentice. A kid who is currently obesessed with weird "gross" animals like frogs and bugs, which doesn't give her much friends in the cookie-cutter neighborhood of Whimsygrove, especially with her not-very emotionally avaliable parents. Brom is trying his best to support her passions but there is so much her good ol' grand-dad can do. He is thinking about sending her "over-world" to Crinklecrankum because at least the halflings over there are "I Love Science Yeah" weirdos.

CBACO (Crinklecrankum Botany Associates and Co), a guild of halfling wizard-botanists and gardeners in Erass, a pretty important job considering the hostile nature of native flora. Significantly less xenophobic than the average Crinklecrankum citizen, although they get jumpy around non-Erassian visitor (because of adventuring raids). Brom is on friendly terms on them and periodically sends research on non-Erassian plantlife to them.

Zzarko Zilverblade. An young-adult-ish dark elf. Had a bad criminal past and tragic backstory he will not disclose, but at least he trying to go for less shady endeavors. Currently working as a inter-world gopher, exclusively sending parcels and words between Brom and CBACO (also CBACO and others). Honorary member of the CBACO, everyone loves him. Likes to think he is more mysterious than he thinks.

"Eric." Goblin grand-dad. His name isn't actually Eric, but everyone calls him that. Overfriendly neighbor to Brom who doesn't quite get his playful anatagonism aganist Brom is really driving the halfling up the wall, but overall not a bad dude. Loves to barbeque and decorate his manicured lawn with obnoxious lawn ornaments.

Inventory: Big wizard hat (that is also a miniature herb garden, because magic), big wizard robes, and staff (which is a big stick with a crystal on top). Tons of food and snacks. His wallet (stuffed to the brim with pictures of his grandchildren).

Name: Stefan Vori Rasha

Species: Ice Elf

Song: First Song, specifically training antimagic

Age: 29

Origin: Stefan comes from the ice-elf citadels of the far north of Alma, hailing from the grand city of Iskiyana. Within the city's icy walls live thousands of elves, safe within the geothermally-heated walls of their homes. The cities of the ice elves extend into the ground, digging deep during the dark winters, growing food on hydroponic systems that rely on the power of the second song to give life. They are the farmers, builders, and forgemasters of the ice elves. As such, Second Song use is extensively studied, formalized in academies and most prominent second song wielders come from a long family line of the like.

The outskirts of ice elf lands are sparsely populated, with small mostly-underground homesteads peeking out from the snow. As their lands are harsh, most conflict between the northern elves are highly ritualized and formalized. There is little for the cities to fight over, nevertheless they have stained the snows with blood in the past. In recent years, there has been peace, with Iskiyana cooperating with its neighbors of Salarad and Vidoan to hunt the giant beasts of the polar region and to fortify against incursions from the south.

Most people in Ice Elf society have a place within the walls, especially during the harsh and dark winters. Even homesteaders will return during the worst weather, with only the most stubborn, foolhardy, or well-prepared staying out. However, there is a group of people known as "Ice Witches" who live outside the citadel walls and wander the snowy lands. They are a mix of outcasts, soothsayers, adventurers, and wanderers, sometimes revered for their knowledge and foresight, other times ignored and kicked out of town for rocking the boat.

Ice Elven names generally have three parts - a given name, an adult or professional name, and a family name. The second name is usually chosen as part of a coming of age ceremony, and generally reflects that elf's training and role in society. Common ones include:

Boril, Aspar, Vadi: Warriors' names
Kali, Misha, Esper: Mage names, specifically those who craft for society.
Ilya, Fodor, Mari: Scholars' names
Moma, Chipa: Homesteader or farmer

Home: Stefan lives in a modest townhouse in Talais, which he and his sister purchased using their savings from home.

Appearance: Stefan is a short man, standing 5'4" tall and with a slight build. His hair is short and dark, contrasting strongly with the pale bluish-gray color of his eyes. He has a number of piercings in his long and pointed ears, most made of whale or walrus ivory, and he has scars on his arms and legs from many, many fights. He has adapted to the local style of dress, wearing the typical fabrics and colors of Chunadie, but he keeps his battle armor, made of cold-forged steel, in good shape.

Personality: Stefan is loud, forward, and bold. He seeks to prove himself in every situation, and hates it when people underestimate his abilities. He is loyal to his sister but has a hard time making new friends. He cares a lot about what other people think about him, and often bites off more than he can chew because of it. When he relaxes, though, he is easily amused, very generous, and tries his best to be kind to those he cares about.

Biography: Stefan was a difficult child. His parents were not expecting twins, as those are quite rare among the long-lived elves, and the Rasha family had a lot of expectations for him and his sister. Their mother, Neva, was a Second Song mage from an established family, and from an early age one of them was expected to carry on that legacy. At the beginning, they were both enrolled in lessons, but Stefan grew restless. He couldn't master even the simple attunement to the Second Song, and he was uninterested in the highly technical lessons on engineering, metallurgy, and agriculture that would help him find useful work after finishing his schooling. He rebelled against everything, tearing up his fancy clothes, sneaking out of lessons, getting into fights, and generally being unruly. His parents worried, but with Stefan's sister Ekatrin taking well to her training in the Second Song they paid less attention to him and his antics.

In his roaming around the citadel, Stefan fell in with a group of orphan children, learning to fight on the streets. They were at first skeptical of him, considering he was a rich kid and they were poor and outcast, but they figured out pretty quick that he was different. In this small group, he started developing his own identity, trying out new names and dressing boyishly. On the day he settled on his new name, Stefan, the kids decided to celebrate by sneaking into the main citadel and stealing some good food.

The heist, such as it was, was going pretty smoothly. As the central citadel had a lot of servants and whatnot running around, the children found it easy to sneak by and get to the kitchens. The kitchens were extra busy, with chefs shouting at each other, pots and pans full of exotic ingredients bubbling on magical fires, and a general sense of unease in the air. The kids managed to nick some fruit and a bit of fluffy fresh-baked bread and headed for the door. Someone spotted them then, pointing out the grubby children and shrieking even louder than the rest. Stefan and his friends broke into a sprint, scattering through the halls of the fortress.

Many frantic turns later, Stefan was lost. He got separated from his friends, somehow, and was now alone in an unfamiliar part of the towering structure. He nibbled on some cheese that he snagged and slowed down, looking for anything familiar that might help him get out. Down the hall, he heard the sound of voices talking, muffled by a door. A shaft of warm light through the door tempted him. Something beckoned to the boy, drawing him forward towards the sound. Before he knew it, he was pressed against the door, peering through the crack and blinking until his eyes adjusted to the brightness.

Inside was one of the citadel's leaders, the general Ashal Boril Karaman, was talking softly to a strange figure. The person was clearly an elf, but dressed in strange clothing, wild-looking furs and cloth, but simultaneously adorned with intricately carved ivory and fossilized wood. This person was standing in front of a large polished slab of ice, impossibly flat and reflective like a mirror. Stefan couldn't make out what was happening, but it seemed to him that shapes were forming and moving in the ice, only to disappear and be replaced by something else. The general was asking questions about enemies, what the southerners might be doing, and wasn't very happy with how the stranger was responding. After several minutes, the stranger turned and called towards the door.

"Come in, child. We have much to discuss, you and I. I've been waiting for someone like you."

Stefan learned many things that day. He learned that there were people who lived outside the strict confines of Ice Elf society. He learned of the ice witches, who could peer into the future and disrupt even the strongest enchantments with their manipulation of the First Song. And he learned that there were others like him, even moreso than the street children he befriended. In the coming weeks and months, Stefan became apprenticed to this diviner, who went only by the name "Vori". They brought him outside the city, showing him the realities of life outside the walls, and things started to make sense.

As he grew older, he trained in both combat and the First Song, though it was much harder to grasp than his sister's Second Song lessons. In the summers, he would go out with Vori on long journeys, visiting homesteads and helping the people out there, meeting with other ice witches and outcasts, and even venturing farther south and learning that the non-elven kingdoms weren't all that terrible. In the other seasons, he honed his fighting skills, and sought out Second Song fleshshapers who could help make his body suit him better. He threw himself into his studies, learning much about how the world worked, and for years, he settled into a routine. 

Things could not last the way they were. Vori would come by less and less frequently, leaving Stefan to study on his own for weeks. They would take him out somewhere and disappear, forcing the young man to survive in communities far away from his own, making him adapt. Vori wouldn't say why they were doing this, but they clearly saw something coming soon in the future. Stefan wasn't one to pry into his teacher's personal life, but he worried that his lessons would suddenly end. Those last few years were tense ones, with Stefan growing farther apart from his family, his friends from the streets, everyone except his teacher. 

Two years ago, on the longest day of summer, a stranger arrived in Iskiyana. He had come from one of the other citadels, and he was looking for someone. Everyone in the citadel had heard something about this traveler, and from the rumors, he was someone very, very, powerful. Stefan wondered why he was here, but he quickly put it out of his mind. His teacher had promised to meet him, and Stefan had been waiting far too long for another lesson. They were to meet at the central square, and so Stefan packed his bag and set out.

When he reached the square, he saw that it was unusually empty. Vori was there, sitting under a statue of a great mage, but there was someone else talking to them, a tall man in ice-white armor, towering over the diviner. Stefan ran towards his teacher and shouted at the stranger, asking what was going on, why was he bothering them? The stranger looked down at Stefan with cruel eyes, and said he was here to take Vori away for trial. Stefan knew that, if he let Vori leave there, he would never see his teacher again. He turned to his teacher and asked if it was true, but the other elf did not respond. The stranger laughed, and told Stefan to leave. 

The younger man refused. He didn't know what to do, but he knew he could not let this continue. In a panic, he challenged the stranger to single combat. The other elf smirked, and unstrapped his weapon. "So be it," he said, "It is my right to choose the weapon." The stranger had a heavy blade that he unsheathed and looked at, his reflection in the black metal grinning at Stefan. The young man was unarmed, but he knew he couldn't back down. "I am unarmed, so by law you must arm me with the same weapon of your choosing." This irritated his opponent, who cast aside his sword. "I will make you regret your foolishness, boy." He raised his fists and, without giving Stefan any time to get ready, launched his attack.

Although Stefan had been training for the past decade and a half, this elf's experience was far, far longer. He struck faster than Stefan could defend, sending him flying across the cobblestones. Moving forward with incredible speed, he kicked Stefan in the ribs as he landed, knocking the wind out of him. Stefan struggled to his feet, sidestepping his opponent's next attack and throwing a weak punch of his own. The stranger laughed and caught his fist, breaking it with a wrench upwards.

The fight was over in minutes, leaving Stefan broken and bleeding on the ground. The last thing he saw as he lost consciousness was Vori walking away with the stranger, looking down at their feet. When he came to, he was in his home, being cared for by his sister. It took him many months to recover, but as he healed, Stefan learned just how bad his situation was. The leaders of the citadel were considering what to do with him, as they did not want to start a feud with the stranger's city.

Stefan planned his escape from his recovery bed. He arranged for himself to be exiled, and asked his sister to leave with him. He decided to take the name "Vori" in honor of his teacher and left for the South. Over his travels, he settled in Chunadie...

Important Skills: 

Combat - Hand-to-hand fighting, swordfighting, spear-throwing
Science - Understanding of physics needed for First Song
First Song - 15 years of experience, focus on antimagic but knows a little about divination from being around his teacher
Survival skills - Knows how to live out on the ice on his own.


Important People:

Ekatrin Kali Rasha: Stefan's identical twin sister, Second Song mage.

Vori: Stefan's missing teacher

Marc D'arleau: Stefan's only friend in Chunadie, a surgeon by trade and amateur singer.

Inventory: Cold-Forged Armor, Ice-Elf Sword, Vori's apprentice pendant, survival tools.

Name: Avag Belzren

Species: Goblin
Avag is like most goblins, in that he is easily bored and prone to seeking excitement, as well as distinctly lacking in the capacity for introspection and self-doubt. He very much fits in with other goblins.

Song: Fourth Song
Avag is a novice user of the fourth song. He originally studied a little of its processes to help with attuning the bells his family makes. He branched out into martial uses of the song when he became an adventurer, and specializes in making himself extremely durable.

Age: 32
Avag is middle-aged for a goblin, having survived for a while as an adventurer. He’s starting to think about returning home permanently, but he wants to achieve some great adventure first, since he’s not been the most effective adventurer so far.

Origin: Mireval, Chunadie
The Belzren family owns a small patch of land outside the Chunard city of Mireval. They were granted use of it by the bishop who owned the land in exchange for forging a grand set of twelve bells for his cathedral. The Belzren family built a house and a workshop on this land, which has slowly expanded over the years, adding multiple extensions to the house, planting a vegetable garden and substantially expanding the bell foundry. Avag was born in this family home.

Home: Mireval, Chunadie
Avag still frequently returns to the Belzren family home, though he is a wandering adventurer. The house is a little ways outside of the city, surrounded mostly by woodland. The hodgepodge, mismatched nature of the extensions and the fact that there’s a giant barn-like foundry attached make it quite a house to behold, though it is not particularly visually attractive. The rest of the extensive Belzren family mostly live here, and they get on well with the locals in the nearby city and farming villages.

Appearance: A scruffy goblin warrior in a heavy, padded coat, carrying a set of small axes.
Standing at 3’7, Avag is slightly on the short side for a goblin, which often saw him overlooked in his usually-pretty-tall family. He wears a padded coat of plates that he belts about his waist, which extends down to protect his legs. He carries three sharp hand-axes, clearly well-made. Though he does his best to keep clean and polish his equipment, the life of a travelling adventurer is not one which gives the best opportunities for that.

Personality: Brave and excitable.
Avag is irrepressible, and has a strong sense of right and wrong. Still, he is prideful, flighty and easily distracted by new and exciting things, and is prone to going off on meaningless tangents. He is generally friendly to those who are friendly back, but can rapidly bounce to brash hostility at a moment’s notice, particularly if someone behaves arrogantly or acts more important than him.

Biography: Bell foundry apprentice turned adventurer.

SpoilerShow

As might be expected for a small goblin in a large family, Avag often struggled to find a place for himself at home, despite his (sometimes aggressively) supportive relatives. His family are bell-founders by trade, and the harmonies of their bells are very important to certain kinds of song-users. When he was old enough, Avag joined his siblings in studying the Fourth Song under a friendly monk to see if any of them had a knack for it. Fourth-Song attuned bells for temples and monasteries were the ones most often in demand, so it was a valuable skill to learn. Avag had the talent, but his knack for the Fourth Song was mostly just useful to keep him from getting hurt when handling the hot metal. He could help attune the bells, but his brother Thorvog had a far easier time with it than him.
Avag continued to help his family with the foundry well into adulthood, but he always felt as though he was missing something in his life. Still, he had a loving, extensive family, with parents and siblings and uncles and cousins and, eventually, nieces and nephews. He pursued various hobbies in his free time, became skilled at metalwork, courted (unsuccessfully), even travelled a little. It was the travel that he resonated with most strongly - the chance to see new places, new people, and just maybe be someone who wasn’t constantly overshadowed by his family.
When Avag eventually expressed his desire to take a world-spanning journey to his family, they were extremely supportive. They helped equip him with supplies and threw him a fond send-off party, though his initial journey to the Giant’s Tail mountains ended in him being nearly killed by a wolf, surviving thanks only to his knack for making himself tougher with the Fourth Song. Still, this did little to dampen his enthusiasm - in fact he found mortal danger thrilling. Plus, during his journey to the north he’d heard of villages having problems with brigands and even a treasure hidden in the mountains. It wasn’t just travel that called to him now, but a life of adventure!
Before heading out again, Avag practiced with the Fourth Song and forged himself a hand-axe. His family also entrusted him with his grandfather’s coat of plates, as they continued to be wildly supportive. He set out again, seeking danger to confront and surviving by the gratitude of those he aided on his travels. He trained with the Fourth Song and with his axe, and eventually bought the materials to forge two more so he could throw them in battle. Avag ended up becoming a decent combatant with an unusually bouncy combat style, helping villages with petty problems and hunting down bandit hoards and bounties. He ended up getting pretty good at it, though he never really went far from Chunadie.
Despite his small successes, Avag never really achieved much renown as an adventurer. Aside from a small amount of local fame in the places he directly helped, nobody knew his name, and nobody really sought him out to solve their problems. Although he was usually fine with this, as he got older, he started to grow annoyed by other, more famous adventurers overshadowing him, and started seeking out more dangerous quests. He had the adventuring experience, and it wouldn’t be long before he grew old enough to seriously have to consider retiring and settling down. He just needed a big, famous win or two under his belt, and then everyone would remember the name Avag Belzren.

Important Skills: Close combat skills and metalwork.
Avag is skilled with his axes and proficient with his armour. He fights best in close combat, throwing axes at close range and then moving into melee. He relies on both his armour and his skill with the Fourth Song to be able to absorb hits, before quite literally bouncing back with a counterattack. Like most of his relatives, he’s also a skilled metalworker from his time working in the family foundry, and maintains his own equipment. Still, he’s a little rusty when it comes to actually casting and tuning bells.
Avag speaks fluent Chunard, poor Doomthroom and acceptable Chunard Sign.

Important People:
His Family, most notably;
Meida Belzren: Avag’s 50-year-old mother and current matriarch of the family. A master bell-founder and organizer, though not a Song user. Kind and generous, but with a short temper.
Naza Belzren: Avag’s twin sister and closest sibling. Married to Erung Klievras, has four children. Was never a very good bell-maker, so she spends most of her free time in the vegetable garden. Patient (for a goblin).
For the rest of the family tree, click here.
Also;
Jean-Baptiste Dimont: A human monk of a Chunard clerical order, and scholarly student of the Fourth Song. Lives in a monastery near Mireval. Helped Avag and his brother Thorvog learn to harness the Fourth Song. A rotund, friendly fellow.

Inventory:
Three Hand-Axes: Weapons he made himself, good for hacking and throwing. They aren’t the most balanced axes, but they are very sturdy and he keeps them deadly sharp.
Coat of Plates: Originally owned by Avag’s grandfather, Treavzag Belzren. Avag takes good care of it, even if the blows it takes leave it scruffy.
Adventuring Backpack: A large backpack containing changes of clothes, bedroll, a lantern, a tiny tent, some rope and small animal trapping snares.
Small Bell: One of the cheap tin bells Avag tuned to the Fourth Song during his training. It’s technically possible to use it as a focus for the Fourth Song. It isn’t really powerful enough to do anything, but he still keeps it around.
Letters from Home: Avag stays in contact with his family by mail, and keeps a lot of the letters his family sends him in a loosely-bound, ugly-looking book.
Sketchbook: Avag occasionally sketches cool things he sees on his travels. He’s really not very good, and he often tears pages out of the book to write letters for his family.

Name: Ghendri Jermensinitir! His foster father never did tell him what his surname was so he made one up. Its a mixture of the two nearest villages to the Dark Tower he was raised in. His first name he adopted from this pet owl one of the other kids in the tower kept in secret before the wardens found it and took both the owl and the boy away upstairs to where the good students go. Before he made up a name he was named 24.

Species: Human, he thinks. Thats what everyone who looks like him are called, he first thought he was an elf since elves where the first people he met before they laughed at him and pointed out his lack of pointed ears. It was a very silly assumption in Hindsight!

Song: Fourth song! Foster Father was said to be obsessed with life and death and that all his brothers and sisters in the tower would one day help him figure out the secrets of the universe. Thats why he was trained to attune with the Fourth Song since he could walk! Clearly its the best song! He didnt even know there were other songs until he accidentally left the tower.

Age: 18 and thinks he's ready to face the world! He is not ready to face the world.

Origin: The Dark Tower! Called so because it was a tower built into a massive crevice in a mountain side and so was perpetually covered in shadow at all hours of the day in every season of the year. It was actually bright red with faded blue battlements made of weird stone Ghendri never saw before nor since. Ghendri doesn't know where it is, he just knows the two nearby villages the Wardens went for supplies were called Jermen and Sinitir respectively. He doesn't know where it is unfortunately, he was sleeping when he left the tower, woke up near the seaside in a place where no one spoke his language. Once he got over the shock of seeing SO MUCH WATER and SO MUCH SKY and SO MANY BUILDINGS and SO MANY PEOPLE all at once, which was a full day because he kind of absolutely fucking panicked and ran out of the town for a while and slept rough in the open field. Which was really cool for all of five seconds before the rain started. On the plus side, he finally got to experience rain! He only ever saw it from a distance before, on rare occasions a bad storm would blow rain in and it'd hit the lower stones of the tower but never high enough to reach his cell. Once he got his wits together he ventured back into the town and asked around. Unfortunately he didn't get too far as no one was interested in speaking with some youth who didnt speak their language, who knew!

Fortunately, through boundless enthusiasm and many many applications of hand gestures, he soon figured out the nature of ECONOMICS! By way of lifting heavy things back and forth for money. Money could then be given in exchange for goods and services, like food and beds and clothes. He sure learned a lot!

Eventually some ship captain came by who spoke his language and offered him money if he would join his ship as hired muscle. He was a short balding chap with two eye patches, twenty iron capped teeth, scars all over his face, a leg made of iron that occasionally pumped out gouts of boiling steam and was always followed around by this gigantic frowning green guy named Throm. He was a good boss!

So Ghendri joined Captain Shaggart's crew and generally help load and unload things and occasionally beat people up who Shaggart told him to beat up. He was told they all owed him money and refused to pay it back and thats why they needed beatings. Made sense to Ghendri! The ship sailed all over, mostly stopping in ports to drop off cargo, but only in the dead of night and only in the short row boats to deliver to the shore out of sight of the town guards. Very different from when they stopped in port during the day when Shaggart was all smiles with the portsmen and allowed them to look through the ship all they wanted. It was all very strange, but Ghendri was told not to ask questions so he never did. Nonetheless everywhere Ghendri went he always made sure to ask people about the Dark Tower and where it is so he could return home. The wardens and his foster father must be so worried about him! But sadly no one ever had any idea what he was talking about.

Eventually, things changed, one week Captain Shaggart was oddly grumpy and not his usual boisterous self, he kept looking at Ghendri funny and refusing to talk to him. The crew started acting odd as well, no one would arm wrestle him or play cards, even though he always lost at cards, he enjoyed the game. However all that changed when they visited Marray, suddenly captain Shaggart announced with a wide grin they'd all be staying over at an extended stay of liberty in Marray and they were all given extra gold to celebrate. Ghendri thought this was great and so happily joined in! He never went on liberty before, he was always told to stay with the ship, so he did. However this time was different! They all went to the biggest tavern in town and Ghendri had his first mug of Ale! Then whiskey. Then something called Potín. Then a lot of mead. Alcohol sure was an acquired taste and he was drinking a lot! A lot more than the others he realised, but it was all in good fun!

He woke up the next morning with his feet feeling like a storm at sea and missing all his money. The crew and captain Shaggart and Throm where nowhere to be found, and their ship, the Salty Molasses, was not in port. They must have already left and forgotten him! How terrible! However he was left with his Bastard Sword and his shoes so he was hardly left with nothing! But with no ship and nowhere to go, it was just like his time in that port town whose name he never learned all those months ago, except people here in Marray could speak his language, even though no one found his accent familiar at all. So with nothing better to do he started over again, doing odd jobs for money until he could find a place to stay and a way to find the Dark Tower again.

Home: Ghendri lives on the rooftop of the Sickening Heights Apartments in Marray. It was the cheapest accommodation he could afford given his unstable income source. Its little more than a poorly build one room shack literally cobbled together from palletes, tarps, rope and bits of sheet metal that the engineers' guild throws away. The apartments where little more than four floors high and filled to the brim with working class families, and the landlady agreed to let him live there for cheap if he agreed to do odd jobs for her beating up ne'erdowells who come around to her street corner. Which fortuneately he was good at! He only sometimes needed to stab them!

Appearance: Ghendri is a full head and shoulders above most people, standing tall at 6' 6". It can be really inconvenient! He has to bend low if he ever wants to go throw a doorway and cramped spaces are all the worse for him, but he's used to it, reminds him of growing up in the Dark Tower.

He has autumnal red hair streaked with blonde in places, which people say make it look like his head is on fire. Which is nice when his head is not actually on fire which happened once. He has shockingly bright blue eyes. He has a thick nose thats clearly been broken and put back into place once or twice and a permenant bruise on one shoulder, remnants of his training as a child. He has strange, tiny, spirallingblack tatoos in the hollows of his knees and elbows and he has no idea what they mean or when he got them, he just knows he always had them.

He is naturally pale skinned and sunburns VERY EASILY which is why he doesn't like being out in the sun too much, but he doesn't have much choice, most work happens during the daylight hours afterall!

Ghendri doesn't understand fashion all too well, but tends towards simple clothing and so can often be found wearing simple, practical work clothes. His armour is similarly simple, practical and dull, but well maintained!

Personality: Ghendri is a very friendly young man and always eager to work and learn! He has so much to learn and every day always seems to bring him something knew to learn about! A trusting sort, he finds making friends to be very easy but is always mystified why they never seem to stick around, or why people are always a bit skittish when he walks by.

Having been sheltered all his life, he is very easily duped or tricked, but at the same time, he can very easily lose himself when something amazing or beautiful catches his eye. The world outside the Dark Tower is full of such wonders he could never imagine! Have you seen the stars!? Ghendri can hardly believe there are so many and often spends sleepless nights lying outside his shack and watching the stars glint and glitter and seem vaguely leaf like in shape at times.

His lack of experience may make him seem awkward, even clumsy at times, but he is very adaptable and can quickly gain mastery over most physically challenging activities or enterprises. He has a strong sense of right and wrong, but very little education on what is right or wrong, and so very often can be convinced to do bad things if someone convinces him its actually for a good cause.

Needless to say, sometimes Ghendri ends up in the local Goal some weekends. He maintains a good relationship with the city guard nonetheless.

Biography: Your character's history! The more detailed, the better! Whatever you want to include to flesh out your character's past and how it shaped them into the person they are today.

Important Skills: Ghendri is very proficient at the Fourth Song and as such, is a prodigious warrior, helped in no small part due to his natural great strength and build. While spending most of his days in Marray doing labour intensive jobs or cleaning up street thugs at the behest of his Landlady, he is also very good at self maintenance tasks, such as basic repair and maintenance of his armour and gear, sowing, leather working and other practical creative skills gained throughout his many odd jobs.

He is also very mathematically inclined though he only learned such skills when having to do his own budgeting and counting money he loses on games of chance when he sailed aboard the Salty Molasses. He rarely finds application for the skill but listens in fascination at the tea halls and squares of the local university when the more educated folk are having seminars or discussions. Though intellectual pursuits fascinate him, he woefully can never afford the expense needed to go learning himself, so all talk of philosophy and literature and mathematics and science are beyond his reach. Besides, such pursuits are the domain of wielders of the First Song, who are the masters of such things and the better of all lesser scholars and the laws of nature state a being can only master one Song in their lives and he had already pledged himself to the Fourth. So his understanding and fascination with the physical properties of the world can only go so far as they solve his very practical problems.

He can also tell you how to sail a ship but he's hardly ever going to get the crew neccessary for those skills to ever become neccessary again. But thanks to it he has basic comptency in rope making, sail repair, and carpentry which he used to make his shack relatively sturdy when storms hit the city. He is also relatively skilled at whittling and likes making small models out of people and creatures he sees.

He cannot cook and assumes anyone who can to be a master of the Second Song. Because clearly they're all fucking wizards.

Important People: Father - His Foster Father who he never saw much less heard, but knows loves him, otherwise why would he be his father? He rules the Dark Tower and lives at the very top... He thinks. Ghendri like all the children of the tower were born of the tower, how else do they just all show up one day with no memories other than their time in the tower? Consequently, Ghendri has no idea where babies come from, and just assume all the kids he sees running around are born from the houses of their parents. All those orphans are clearly just kids who lost their parents and/or houses. Surely his Foster Father would tell him if it was any different, right? Foster Father told him everything he needed to know about the Fourth Song through the speaking stones in the walls of his cell and corridors and halls. He was always strict and certain and sure, and was always pleased when Ghendri succeeded in his studies by surviving the trials the Wardens put him through, how better to grow closer to the Fourth Song! The other kids who didn't make it through the trials failed, but that was okay, because they made it to the fourth song in another way and the wardens always took their sleeping bodies up the tower. Except one kid who died and didn't just fall asleep, and Ghendri knows he died and wasn't asleep because his head fell off. Father told him not to worry about it so he didn't and he likes to ignore the dreams that do.

Warden Big and Warden Small - Ghendri's two favourite Wardens! Warden Big was the best teacher of the fourth song, he almost killed Ghendri fifty times! Out of all the Wardens, Warden Big did the most to bring him closest to the Fourth Song and helped him learn it faster than all the others! Warden Small served him his Grey Meat every day and always made sure there was EXTRA mould on his meat every day, which Ghendri was convinced helped him get stronger faster, even though it often meant he spent days delirious and violently ill, but thats okay it brought him closer to the Fourth Song! He never did figure out what they looked like. The wardens all wore white cowls over white cloth masks with spiraling golden symbols over their faces, each one differed from day to day so you could never tell which warden was which except for their relative sizes. Hence Warden Big and Warden small! The biggest and smallest wardens respectively.

123 - A girl in the Tower who was his first friend. Though they could only speak during food hour and training. No idea what she looked like as they all wore masks, but she stayed in the girls cells in the shadowed side of the tower, the one cloest to the interior of the mountain whereas the boys stayed at the Weathered side which faced outwards. Or at least they did on their level, apparent cells rotated at the higher levels of the tower according to her but that was just a rumour she heard. She was the first in their group of neophytes to figure out healing and helped Ghendri, then known as 24, to figure it out himself. Because of it though, she was brought higher up the tower, and he hasn't seen her since he was 7.

45 - A tall kid, gruff sounding, he was Ghendri's most frequent training partner and apart from Wardens Big and Small was the closest to ever killing Ghendri. They were great friends and Ghendri almost killed him many times too! Eventually however he got taken up higher in the tower too after one particularly violent training session. Ghendri hasn't seen him since he was 14.

13 - The kid who adopted an owl chick that had landed on his cell's window with a damaged wing. He had nursed it for a full year and hid it by hiding it under his cot's pillow and later shooing it out the window when the Warden's came around. He named it Ghendri, though 24 had no idea where he even got the idea you could name things other than numbers or job roles like Father or Warden. 13 always did seem to have an odd way of knowing things other kids never did. Sadly like all the others in his group, 13 got taken up higher into the Tower. Wether because they got caught doing something they shouldn't, fell asleep after failing a trial or got REALLY GOOD at something, they all went upstairs. Until Ghendri was the only one left in his group of neophytes with newer kids appearing in the tower every year younger than him. He never did figure out why he could never go higher in the tower, he always thought he was the best at the Fourth Song.

Captain Shaggart - The captain of the Salty Molasses. A boisterous blind man who had an uneering sense of direction. Always claimed he could feel the direction of where they needed to go on the wind. He was very charismatic and persuasive but could inspire fear in a lot of people when he got angry. Ghendri would later suspect he was a wielder of the Third Song but Shaggart always laughed off the idea. Ghendri feels sorry for getting so drunk he failed to catch up with the crew before the ship left port. He really ought to make it up to him someday!

Throm -  A quiet and powerfully built Koruk and the only person on the crew taller than Ghendri was. He was a powerful Fourth Song wielder but refused to spar with Ghendri or engage in arm wrestling competitions. He was sharped eyed and keen eared, often seen bending low to whisper into Captain Shaggart's ear from time to time and seemed to have a way of getting people to confess to cheating Shaggart at something simply by staring at them. The one time he was convinced to play cards with the crew was also the only time Ghendri ever won a game. He never played again after that.

The Crew of the Salty Molasses - The crew's makeup was an ever shifting array of colourful characters many leaving at one port with others coming aboard at another, and everyone was someone previously familiar with Captain Shaggart. Ghendri was always mystified by that, wondering if they all had previously sailed with the Salty Molasses before or if Shaggart was just well known in ever port, but only to a particular kind of people.

Miss Fenderstrike - a Tough old Dwarven woman who was the landlady of the Sickening Heights Apartments. A no-nonsense woman who always smelled of tobacco but was never seen anywhere near a smoking pipe. She had no patience for Ghendri's pleas for room and board when he first arrived at her doorstep, but was eventually persuaded to let him stay on the roof, after hearing her other tenants complain about the uptick in muggings at night in the streets around the block. Ghendri being the capable sort, jumped at the chance of being the local street tough to clean up the area if it meant cheaper lodging. Plus he got to stay at the top of the building where he could see out at the surounding city, it was like being in the tower again!

Lady Larendel - One of Ghendri's many part time employers since he arrived in Marray. A mysterious woman of indeterminate race, always hidden behind a veil, absurdly high collared coat and cloak and a wide brimmed, absurdly ostentatious hat with more colourful feathers than ships in port and always in a different arrangement every time Ghendri saw her. The only thing he could make out was her vaguely luminescent, yellow eyes and the fact she clearly wore face paint as the arrangement on the visible portions of the skin around the eyes was always wildly different with each encounter. Ghendri had no idea how she was constantly able to approach him without him knowing she was coming. They first met when he stopped by her table at a market fair to read his palm to tell his fortune, in which she foretold he would one day become reknowned throughout all the worlds as a king of air and fire. Ghendri asked what in the hell that even meant, in which she challenged him to various games of chance, but never cards. If he ever won, she would tell him his entire destiny, but if he lost he would have to fulfil a small errand for her, but with a small compensation. Ghendri, thinking this was a totally legitimate state of affairs, agreed. Promptly lost, delivered a package of herbs to some frightened looking shopkeep at the other end of town who would later sell his possessions and move town and found a small bag of five coins in his pocket for his efforts. Every later encounter with Lady Larendel followed the same format, a greeting, a game, a loss, an errand, and a payment. It was all very silly, but Ghendri saw no harm in it. It was her who told him to seek out Sir Henri de Montenay and help him in whatever it is he was doing. Clearly this was going to be another harmless errand so he happily went along to go see him.

Inventory: Ghendri doesn't have much by way of keepsakes, other than his name. His bastard sword was the only thing he ever won in a game of cards, and he was very fond of it. Everything else he owns he has purchased one way or another, from his armour and shield on down to the soles of his boots.

He does, however, possess a jeweled pocket knife, which he repurposed from a misused mugging implement some ill advised, gold toothed street thug who was wildly out of his depth had been using to intimidate people. Ghendri took it and a number of his rings and dislodged gold tooth when he drove the ruffian from his streets. he uses it to practice his whittling skills.

Name: Zaya-Viel Madina

Species: Tsavari, Third Song

Song: Second Song, with a focus on the rapid dissipation of thermal energy in an area. So, her element of choice is ice. Yes, third song tsavari aren’t supposed to be able to use the second song. No, she doesn’t trust you enough to explain this.

Age: 31

Origin: The Stalwart Hull of Zrucan, Salin. Zrucan was the first of the Arcologies to suffer a Harmony Core breach and survive. The arcology’s Harmony Field is still partially functional, albeit weakened, allowing some of Salin’s Dissonance to leak in. This causes minor to moderate Song phenomena within its bounds, which the people of Zrucan have largely adapted to. At a glance, Zrucan is a twisted, half-destroyed hulk of a superstructure, surrounded by makeshift structures of scrap metal and other sorts of scavenged material. Though harsh, Zrucan has a very strong sense of community - no one can survive the apocalypse alone, after all.

What, you didn’t really think it would look like Mad Max, did you?

Home: The Polar Cosmopolis of Stemspire, Salin. Stemspire is the best-known of the tsavari arcologies off-world, due to its location - built around the stem of the world. It’s the only arcology with any notable amount of non-Tsavari population due to its location, and it’s also the only place on Salin to find off-world traders. Densely populated, it’s probably not the best place to raise a dragon - though that’s something to worry about later.

Appearance: A third song tsavari, with vibrant orange scales that fade to a more golden color around her head frills. Three reddish-orange eyes. Surprisingly short, at only 5’6”, though relatively muscular from a life of adventure. Notable purplish discoloration and scarring in uneven patterns, mainly around her extremities.

Generally wears a set of well-worn adventuring gear - or rather, scavenging gear. A reinforced jacket to protect against the elements, sturdy pants, heavy boots, gloves, a protective leather shirt for some layer of proper armor. Also has a wide-brimmed hat with cloth to protect the head and neck from the elements. Even if the weather is nice here. Always carrying at least four knives and a small crossbow, among other adventuring supplies.

Personality: A little on edge at all times, and thus very easy to startle. Generally friendly, albeit slow to trust. Very, very talkative, though the line between talking to herself and talking to other people sometimes gets blurred. Unusually prone to confusion, disorientation, and generally losing her train of thought. Would kill. But not for you, yet.

Biography:

SpoilerShow

Zaya was, originally, a scavenger (or at least, a scavenger-in-training), working to gain a basic mastery over the third song in order to serve in one of Zrucan’s many scavenging groups, traveling the wastes to find useful materials and ancient technology for the good of the arcology as a whole. This was, unfortunately, a dream that wouldn’t last. One particular foray into the wastes of Salin ended in disaster - a particularly severe surge of the Fourth Song led to the group wandering confused in the realm of the dead for more than a week, and a full half never returned. Zaya, though a survivor, was left with a lifelong fear of death, ghosts, and other such things, and immediately retired as a scavenger.

Still, you can’t keep a curious mind down. Zaya began to spend much of her time exploring the ruins of the arcology, marvelling at the impossible technology that must have produced it so long ago. What must have happened, to make the world how it was now? Could what was lost ever be recovered? Someone had to try. So began an obsession with archaeological research, with seeking untouched ruins that could still contain pieces of a forgotten past - or at least technology that still worked, which was sort of the holy grail of archaeology and scavenging alike. Frankly, there was a fine line between the two.

Zaya’s research eventually led her to a great discovery, mentioned briefly in some obscure old texts. It wasn’t easy to piece together the location, and it was harder still to find a way to get there. It seemed to be the headquarters - or at least, an important building - of some ancient, possibly-secret organization, which might have still been intact, if the testimonial of some scavengers from Stemspire were to be believed. Zaya began to put together an expedition, using up a vast majority of her own resources to hire a team of mercenaries to take her there - one from each song. While her fear of the realms of the dead still stood, Zaya had found herself unafraid of most other things since then, and her quest for knowledge helped push past what fear remained.

At the age of 26, Zaya’s expedition launched, and long story short, it was a resounding success. Halfway embedded in a mountain in the wastes of Salin stood a small, metallic structure, the soft glow about it indicating that a Harmony Core still functioned within. The window to get inside was short - when the Second Song came again, the place could easily be re-buried. And so the team acted fast, breaching through an exposed window and making their way inside. The soft hum of the core began to rapidly fall to nothing, as sudden exposure to the elements overloaded the ancient machine - so not much time was left. The mercenaries, in typical mercenary fashion, began to ransack the place immediately for artifacts of any value, but frankly this was expected. It gave Zaya time to slip away and breach the ruin’s inner sanctum before the rest of them could get there. The ruin’s greatest secrets would be hers, now. Maybe the greatest discovery of a generation. Zaya crowbarred the door open...

... and found herself face-to-face with a dragon.

The vast inner chamber held an ancient, purple dragon, stood perfectly still, its face twisted an a frozen expression of pain or shock. As Zaya gawked, the dying hum of the Core finally fell to nothing... and the enormous dragon, in mere seconds, began to rapidly crumble to dust. Its skeleton collapsed from its disintegrating form, and its bones too quickly decayed to nothing, as hundreds or even thousands of years caught up in mere seconds. Zaya felt so, so cold. And then Zaya felt nothing.

The next thing she saw was the inside of an arcology hospital room. It didn’t take long to piece together the full story, as Xenia Kaihan, the fourth song mercenary she’d hired, soon arrived and filled her in. It seemed the inner chamber had been inundated with some exceptionally strong Song phenomena, perfectly preserved by the Harmony Core, and when the Core finally failed, a lot of things must have happened all at once. The temperature fell drastically, ancient bodies disintegrated instantly, and Zaya had been both severely frostbitten and blasted with some wildly uncontrolled magic that had knocked her out for two weeks. Xenia herself was the only one who’d seen fit to actually drag her out of there rather than leaving her for dead.

Her expedition ultimately a failure, and herself facing a long road to recovery, Zaya remained in Stemspire - at this point, it just seemed better for her health, and it was a better place to be doing non-field research. For the next five years, Zaya recovered from her brush with death, began training in the second song (because apparently terrible magic phenomena is enough to reattune your soul, which Zaya found concerning), and began to learn more on a new area of interest - dragons. What had one even been doing in a place like that? What’s the history of dragons at all? ...What are dragons, really? They don’t have those on Salin. Or they don’t anymore, apparently.

She had to know more. And what better way than to travel to a world actually known for having dragons on it? Alma seemed a strange place, sure, but she’d get by just fine there.

Dragon “slaying” wasn’t exactly what she was looking for, but who cares? It was the first chance she’d have to get close to a dragon at all.

Important Skills: Moderately proficient (albeit unconventional) user of the second song, with a focus on ice. Excellent survival skills. Very acrobatic. Good at climbing. Fairly sneaky. Can pick locks, disarm traps, and other similar skills useful for scavenging and “archaeology”.

Also a big nerd, who knows a lot about history (on Salin), linguistics (on Salin), dragons, and ancient technology (she knows very little about this one, but she’s at least looked into it!).

Important People:

Xenia Kaihan - Fourth song tsavari, 33. She/they. Moderately proficient user of the Fourth Song, and particularly the aspect of necromancy - that is to say, communication with the dead. Very big, very strong, very kind. She’s one of the rare mercenaries with actual morals and scruples, seeing it as her duty not just to protect the living but to soothe the restless dead as well. On Salin, that’s a continuing project. Became friends with Zaya over the years following the unfortunate expedition. Friendship evolved into dating. She and Zaya “share” a large apartment in Stemspire, though one or the other is usually gone on some adventure.

Vanja-Teku Madina - Second song tsavari, 29. Pronouns vary. Proficient user of the Second Song, and particularly the art of Fleshshaping. Genderfluid, and reshapes their body to suit whatever expression of gender they’re feeling on a particular day. A doctor in Zrucan, equally adept at dealing with grievous injuries and bodily dysphoria. Zaya and them are fairly close, and communicate by mail when feasible. Ready to throw down. If they like you, ready to throw down in a friendly way.

Mirek-Roda Madina - Third song tsavari, 27. He/him. Not proficient in any songs. He’s a farmer. Lives in Zrucan with his husband, a first song tsavari. A very supportive fellow, though he enjoys the simple life - as simple the life of a farmer in a half-destroyed arcology can really be.

Safa Qast-Yagmur - Urkadi, 53. They/them. Not a user of any Songs. A trader of books and writing supplies, who travels between the various worlds to hawk their wares. Also a writer of travel guides in their spare time. Jovial and good-natured to a fault.

Vaska Ekem - First song tsavari, 38. He/they. Proficient in the First Song, and specifically in the aspect of divination. A friend of Zaya’s in Stemspire, as well as a constant help with research. He still feels kind of bad about helping to point Zaya to the one ruin where everything went so badly.

Kestja Zol-Urbona - Songless tsavari, 32. They/them. Not proficient in any songs. A friend of Zaya’s in Stemspire, who runs a bakery not far from Xenia’s apartment. Shares Zaya’s interest in dragons (and a wide variety of other megafauna), and eagerly awaits stories of Zaya’s travels. They come from Alma originally, and specifically from the Tumbay Jungle. It is considered odd for a tsavari to move to Salin from another world, and it’s a long story.

Inventory:

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Dragons, the Second Chorus, by Marilynn Alphen. A surprisingly informative tome covering the life cycle of dragons, from egg to death. Sources are exhaustively cited, and many helpful diagrams are included. Artistic quality of the diagrams isn’t always the best, but it gets the point across.

Dragons of Alma: A History, by Florent Labeau. A well-researched history of notable dragons on the world of Alma. Obviously largely based on dubious historical accounts, but the author undertook a significant amount of field research in an attempt to investigate these stories.

Masters of the Second Song: A Treatise on Draconic Magic, by Slàine Novik. A well-worn book on draconic usage of the Second Song. Goes into detail on the different sort of magic dragons are capable of, and how it differs from the magic wielded by mortals.

Mating Rituals of the Wyrm, by Ivasaar Aragwyn. A book covering draconic mating practices. Not as steamy as you’d expect, but more steamy than you’d hope. Or less steamy. That’s not for me to judge.

The Old Cities, by Snorri Bronzemaul. A book about the ancient cities spread across the branch, and the unknown civilization that created them. Contains a lot of speculation and dubious sketches of the cities’ automaton defenders, mostly compiled from testimonial by adventurers daring enough to raid such places. Due to a lack of information, it’s not really clear how much of this book is accurate, but Zaya still finds it inspirational.

Traveller’s Guide to the Branch, by Safa Qast-Yagmur. A book containing maps of a variety of places on various worlds, along with useful context on various cultures and nations and the like. Useful!

Journey to the Far Branch, by Vas-Liang Yawen. A pulpy sci-fi novel prominently featuring a pair of ladies on the cover - one human and one tsavari. A surprisingly gripping story of two women traveling to fantastical worlds on distant branches, and finding love while they do so. Zaya leaves this one in her backpack, mostly.

Scavenger’s Outfit - A lightly-armored outfit intended to protect the wearer from harsh climates and weather. Not excellent when you’re, say, getting shot at (or fighting a dragon), but better than nothing. Stylish, if you like the post-apocalyptic style.

Backpack - A waterproof leather backpack with space for books and adventuring supplies.

At Least Four Knives - A set of sturdy knives, both for fighting and for utility.

Crossbow - A small crossbow for self-defense. Nothing special.

Rope - A length of rope, for all your adventuring needs.

Grappling Hook - What kind of adventurer doesn’t carry one of these?

Canteen - Water is essential for the continuance of organic life.

Lockpicks - A set of lockpicks, useful for a variety of purposes - very few of which are likely to be legal.

“Lockpicks” - A crowbar, some pliers, and a small hammer.

Name: Rozenn af Quillard

Species: Urkadi

Song: None! Rozenn is a person who is mute.

Age: 24!

Origin: Arthenard, a bustling island community made primarily of orcs and humans. Arthenard's origins span two-hundred years, starting when a freight boat full of Chunadier folks found itself in choppy waters with a hole in its hull.  Just as all hope seemed lost for the peasants, nobles, adventurers and merchants, they found themselves gently pulled to shore. As luck would have it, a traveling orc tribe that happened to be passing across the archipelago took notice of their ship; in no time whatsoever, their tribe's elders pulled the sinking vessel back to shore with a rousing verse of the second song.

Both groups found themselves in something of a pickle: the Chunadier didn't have the equipment or materials to make their ship seaworthy once more, and the Urkadi travellers didn't have enough boats to carry their new friends home without making dozens of difficult trips. After much deliberation, the Urkadi collectively decided the best way to handle things was to simply lend a hand; they would stay on the island and help them prepare enough vessels to get back home.

It was a long and arduous venture, and the task of mutual survival drew the two communities closer. Friendships, camaraderie, and romance bloomed on the island. As time went on, the workers found their task grew lighter and lighter: people were deciding to settle down together on the island, to abandon their homes and their people to remain a part of this community. Eventually, the Chunadier civilians and the Urkadi nomads parted ways, and in their wake they left something new: Arthenard, a village formed of their cooperation and partnership. In time, that village grew into a castle town with a thriving port. The problem of pirates soon came into view. Old Chunadier ideas were reborn in a much different cultural context, and orders of knights began to form. These followers of the new chivalric code now take to land and sea in order to defend the innocent and represent their ideals abroad.

Also of note: the knights of Arthenard have formed three administrative orders in order to manage their duties. There are the Knights of the Stalwart Stone, who are responsible for management of the island's defensive structures; the Knights of the Silent Sea, who are responsible for managing the safety of the trade ships which allow the island to thrive, as well as customs enforcement; and the Knights of the Sunless Sky, who are responsible for engaging in speechcraft, masters of espionage, off-island diplomacy and conflict mediation on the island. Each order is organized somewhat differently. The Stalwart Stone's members are elected by the people of Arthenard. The Silent Sea's folk are built on ground-up organization and delegation, with captains, commanders, masters and grandmasters being selected by the knights they'll be making decisions for. The Sunless Sky's inner workings are a bit of a mystery to the outside world as they're kept closer to the chest than others, but it's known that they work on a somewhat more complicated form of democracy as well, and that they have fancy titles for their knights.

Home: Rozenn was born to Ladies Gaera and Enora af Quillard, two of the latest in the long line of knights of Quillard. As such, she was raised in the old stone walls of Quillard Castle, home to the eastern knights of Arthenard. Quillard Castle rests upon a rocky peninsula, jutting out into the sea, a bastion overlooking the waves. Its center courtyard is home to a market every Sunday, where farmers and merchants gather to exchange their wares and contribute to the public good.

Appearance: Rozenn is an orc with blue-green skin, flowing black hair, and a kind smile. She stands at about 7'2", strongly muscled and broad-shouldered, but carries herself with carefully-practiced elegance. She is rarely seen without a shield across her back, just in case.

Personality: Rozenn is deeply excitable, quick to accept offers of adventure and slow to retreat. Once she's gotten her tusks sunk into an adventure, she holds on tight. She's quick to love people: if you think of her as a pleasant acquaintance, you're likely a friend in her mind; if you think of her as a friend, she likely sees you as family. Absolutely ride-or-die, but with a strong moral compass. Has a hard time believing people she cares for might genuinely not care about doing the right thing. It's unclear whether she's naive or simply a true believer in those she shares her path with.

Biography: The birth of the child of the mistresses of Quillard Castle was a happy, uneventful one. It wasn't until about an hour after her birth that they realized they'd run into something out of the ordinary: the girl made no sound, did not coo or cry. She was perfectly healthy, but she was incapable of vocalizing in any way. Thankfully, rather than taking this as some great tragedy, her mothers immediately dedicated themselves to learning the language of hands, to finding works written by people in similar circumstances, and to figuring out how best to mother and raise a child born without speech.

Rozenn's childhood was an exciting and adventurous one. While on Arthenard, she would accompany knights on their duties as a squire, spar with other students, and sit with rapt attention as her teachers described ancient battles and the heroes who fought in them. When her mothers would have to take trips to foreign lands, she would occasionally be brought along to observe and take in new sights, sounds and cultures. Since she could not speak, she found her body language and demeanor were key to making a good first impression on people incapable of understanding her signs.

As she matured into adulthood, Rozenn found herself called to both of her mothers' orders. The Knights of the Silent Sea were brave, noble, and bold, while the Knights of the Sunless Sky were dedicated to building ties friendship all over the world. Rozenn wanted to protect the weak and make friends, so instead of choosing right away, she made a choice common to young knights on Arthenard: to become a hedge knight, wandering about and doing good in the name of chivalry! She would find her place in the world eventually; she just needed to take her time.

It's been several years since her journey began, and she's fought many a foe and made many a friend. She's since decided to become a knight of the Silent Sea, but to be her own type of knight. Violence is important for safeguarding the innocent, but life is precious, and no one she's yet met is truly evil. Diplomacy and kindness are every bit as chivalrous as her unflinching steel.  She'll fight when she must, and offer a hand of friendship when she can. This will be her knightly path!

Important Skills: Rozenn has spent her life recieving a knight's education, and in order to overcome her lack of song has applied herself doubly to them. As such, she is well-trained with a variety of weapons, has extensive knowledge of the rules of decorum in various cultures across Alma, and is extensively familiar with the world's history, especially military and heroic history.

Important People: 

Enora af Quillard: Orc, 53. Lady Commander of Castle Quillard, master of the Order of the Silent Sea and mother to Rozenn. Enora is a deeply religious woman; her devotion to the gods is only surpassed by her devotion to her wife and child. She has an unflinching sense of justice, and her blade and bow never fail to find their mark. The intensity with which she meets the battlefield is strongly contrasted by her incredible shyness - she is awkward, polite, and nervous when it comes to personal interaction, even with her own wife. Fourth song practitioner.

Gaera af Quillard: Human, 53. Blue Rose Knightess of the Order of the Sunless Sky and mother to Rozenn. A deeply kind, friendly woman who always has an air of mystery about her. Dedicated to her ideals, and to seeing them live in the world beyond Arthenard. Sweet and jubilant, but only her wife knows the depths of the secrets she's got tied up. Uses the rapier effectively. Second song practitioner, focused on water.

Therrin IV Garrthul: Dwarf. 80. Lord of a small dwarven barony and friend to Enora and Gaera. "Uncle Therrin" to Rozenn. A dwarf of great virtue and even greater martial skill who never had a reason to use it, as he was a lover of peace. He's happy to oversee the administration of his little barony, protect his fellow dwarves, and make sure his people are happy as can be.

Hyacinthe d'Orotte: Human, 27. A friend made during a trip to Chunadie. Daughter of a nobleman; yearns for adventure, but is bound by duty to remain stationary. Somewhat rebellious.

Irénée af Corounn: 44, Orc. A knight-commander of the Stalwart Stone. Was the knight Rozenn apprenticed under. They are serious to the point of sometimes coming across stony, but ultimately has a warm interior. Master of the ranseur.

Inventory:

A Variety of Weapons: Only ever carries a few with her, but she has a rapier, a longsword, an axe, a ranseur, and a bow. Unused ones are kept on Gwen.

Gwenaëlle: Rozenn's horse companion. A good, sweet friend. First song master.

Bouclier de la Rose Indigo: A kite shield of exceptionally fine make passed down through Gaera's family line, once wielded in the War of the True Violet. Has been repaired, touched up, and maintained over the generations. Has a fine indigo rose painted on the front.

Name: Darcia Fauvelle

Species: Sea Elf

Song: First Song, with a lifelong focus on the Signature Tempratis

Age: An even 150 years

Origin: Farloch, Taagan, Alma
Like every settlement within the Nedakean Islands, Farloch is embroiled in the constant flow of life that comes with being in such a location. Farloch is a small town settled on the coast of one of the many, many smaller islands within the Kingdom of Taagan. They are big on diving as a method of fishing, offering an interesting permanence that not a lot of places in the area have. A number of crustaceans and mollusks dot the deeper slopes of Farloch's waters, valuable for both their taste and their tendency to unearth tiny, polished gemstones from within their tiny tunnel homes.

Home: Tarudan, Valmair, Alma
As a major member of the king's court, Darcia has most graciously(?) been granted a room within the royal residence itself. To say that a place within the ruler's home of one of the most notable trading ports on the Kaldan Peninsula is lavish would be an understatement, though perhaps not completely Darcia's cup of tea. When not found in the courts and meeting rooms themselves, Darcia is typically within her personal quarters or the local greenhouses, tending to the greenery she fills her life with.

Appearance: Darcia is tall, standing at an even 6 feet, with a lean build that suggests that she had more muscle in her past. Her hair is a golden blonde, and long enough to curl over one of her shoulders in a poofy ponytail. Her eyes are a sharp green, and her skin a medium tan. As signs of her heritage, Darcia's ears are long and end in sharp points, just like her jawline. Her body is covered in scars small and large, seemingly from blades. Though not particularly numerous, most of her scars are on her arms/hands and torso. In addition, though normally hidden by her clothing, Darcia has a long, winding tattoo, going from her right bicep, diagonally down her back, and ends at her left hip. It consists mainly of water and plant like motifs, though it's evident in places that Darcia got some places touched up to cover up previous tattoos.

Darcia's style is flowy and light, consisting usually of poofy, breathy clothing due to her usual proximity to the sea. She prefers blouses that are light and elegant, and high water trousers to go alongside heavy duty boots. No matter her dress, Darcia has a well-worn black leather belt, which has been specially fitted to host a sword holster, into which her cutlass rests in.

Personality: Darcia is, primarily, a person who has very much mellowed out over the years. She is calm and cool, frequently the voice of reason and the 'straight man' in whatever situation she finds herself in. Darcia is set in her path, though she's more than willing to lend an ear or a helping hand should the need arise. Her experience with the First Song leads her to patience and a desire for understanding. She likes to hold off on making decisions until she feels she's aware enough of the situation to make an educated choice.

However, just because she's grown older does not mean that she's outgrown all of the traits of her younger self. Despite being less impulsive, Darcia is still stubborn and bullheaded, occasionally bordering obstinate. Though she likes to listen and help, she's also easy to annoy, and does not frequently mince words. In addition, her tendency for patience and understanding of the First Song often leads to something that seems like indecisiveness. In reality, it is something more akin to a mix of fatalism and informational overload. The future is winding and confusing, and being able to see it means that not only does she have to parse what she's being given, but also must be burdened with the knowledge that prophecies do not like being changed.

Still, she's always able to push past her own displeasure to focus on the present. Darcia wants to forge the best future she can, and she operates under the philosophy that the future begins in the present.

Biography:

SpoilerShow

Darcia Fauvelle was born in Farloch to Kairiya and Mason Fauvelle, her mom elvish and her father human. Being an only child, Darcia was the one meant to help her family continue on with their tradition. That tradition, of course, was being yet another in a line of Farloch divers. She was taught how to use all of the equipment and all the proper techniques required to be an excellent diver. And she hated every second of it. In her free time (usually involving sneaking out at night), Darcia would patrol the shallows of Farloch, dreaming of the day she would see more of the world than Farloch.

Things (somehow) went further south when Darcia's parents realized that she was attuned to the First Song to the extent that she was. They pushed her to be a diver, pushed her to study, pushed her to practice her Song, pushed her to stay in Farloch. 19 year old Darcia didn't want to study. She didn't want to dive. She didn't want to use a stupid Song or catch stupid crabs or read stupid books all fucking day. And then one day, the impulse of a child kicked in and Darcia ran away.

To be honest, there wasn't a plan. Darcia gathered what she thought were good supplies, took her shitty little boat, and cast off.

Turns out that having no plan is a bad plan. Darcia's life didn't get any easier away from home, far from it. And yet, Darcia found that she was in her element. She learned to fight, she learned to steal, she learned to sail a boat and drive a bargain. And so she did, spending her days out on the seas and in taverns and inns and under bridges and in alleyways. A strange life that befitted a pirate. Because what else was somebody like Darcia supposed to do to get by, if not be a pirate?

Darcia spent decades out on the sea, living a life without rules or morals. She killed and plundered and stole, because that was life, and that's what she did. She passed between groups and crews, sometimes skirting the line of legality and sometimes being a step away from irredeemable. Though never outright confirmed, somebody similar in description to Darcia was occasionally seen on the Maelstrom, a notorious pirate ship that was sailed by a crew belonging to the terrifying 'Fourth's Reaper'. If you asked Darcia, she'd say that she never set foot on that ship, nor did she ever form any lasting attachment to one Ivalla Kurroh.

And then, when Darcia was in her 70s, she found herself back in Farloch. She was between jobs, and a ship was stopping by the port there, and she had to disembark anyways. As fate would have it, her mother was stopping by the port that too. And Darcia, hardened pirate, swindler, and all around scoundrel, was dragged home by her mom.

Darcia was told her father had died a couple years ago.

He was human, and Darcia realized far too late that of course he would die before her. Now that she was home again, her mother demanded she stay, and pick up where she'd left off: doing what she was supposed to. Darcia was, naturally, enraged, and as more of an adult than she was last time they'd spoke, was able to better respond. How dare her mother hold her father's death over her head as a means to try and get her to stay home and do the very thing she ran away from. How dare she try and use something like this to force her to do something. The pair had an argument that lasted well through the night.

However... it wasn't like Darcia went back to piracy. In some capacity... her mother had shown her something important. Everything Darcia had done was short sighted. She looked only to the present, and what did she have to show for it? A history of violence and immorality, and a loss that could never be taken back. Was that really how she wanted to live her life? This realization happened over the next few weeks, as Darcia relented only a little bit, and allowed herself to stay at home for a bit to properly mourn. And it was there, back at home after so long, that Darcia was reminded of the pull of the First Song.

She worked something out with her mom. Staying home and diving was out of the question. Darcia would not dare give up who she was. But she gave in somewhat to her mother's obstinate demands. She would lay low for a while, let her reputation die down, and then take all of her money, everything she'd earned over the decades she'd been gone, and use it to apply herself. Darcia stayed home and studied for a while, seeking first to understand what exactly it was that she wanted to be capable of.

Eventually, Darcia was on her way to the Kingdom of Valmair. If there was one thing she and her mother could agree on, it was that they both disliked Chunadie, for reasons. There seemed to be worse places in the world than Valmair to work towards her goal.

Once in Valmair, Darcia made her way across the country, looking to find the best place to learn and understand the First Song. She spent years simply learning and practicing, and her travels eventually led her to the capital city: Tarudan. It was there that she found Sir Darius' University, a place of learning that seemed to finally have what she was looking for. And so, for the next few decades, Darcia spent her days in Tarudan, simply honing her connection to the First Song via practical study and practice. Her time there led her to meeting Professor Othellas, who she encountered one day in the university's gardens where she'd been working on some of the trees there.

Othellas and Darcia became friends, Othellas' empathetic personality an easy match to Darcia's now mellowed, yet still headstrong nature. The pair would meet and talk, both about their exploits in study and Song, and also about nothing in particular, because that's what friends do sometimes. And Othellas asked if she was looking for a job. When asked further, Othellas stated that he did some private teaching for a prestigious family, and that he'd heard that its head was looking for somebody with just her skill set.

Darcia said yes, but probably should have asked for more details first. She wasn't expecting to meet King Arturas III that soon. Or at all, really.

But whatever his reasons, Arturas seemed to like Darcia and what she had to offer, and Darcia felt awkward saying no to a king after she'd already accepted the invitation. Plus... Othellas was right. This job really was a good fit for her. So she became a member of Arturas' advisory court, and that seemed to be that. It was a bit... too cushy for her at times, but Arturas seemed to have a genuine need and appreciation for her skills, and she felt like this was an opportunity that she would be foolish to give up, even if she wanted to. And that's where Darcia found herself, advising the king of Valmair, just like that. Wild.

Important Skills: Due to her connection to the first Song, Darcia is a studied and practiced botanist and physicist. Her focuses in both areas of study lean towards trees (fruit ones in particular) and hydrodynamics respectively. She is also an experienced sailor, and an active practitioner of the Tempratis Signature of the First Song.

In addition, for her job as an advisor, Darcia is learned in most of the major languages of Alma. She also has combat training in ranged weapons and smaller blades, primarily for self defense, though Darcia is not the biggest fan of finding herself in combat anymore.

Important People:

SpoilerShow

King Arturas III Galetir - The current monarch of the Kingdom of Valmair. He's ambitious, with grand, morally dubious plans. Darcia has maintained frequent contact with him due to her position as one of his direct advisors. While she doesn't necessarily agree with his methods, Darcia still maintains that it's better that she's at his side helping him steer than sticking herself in his path, so to speak. Her skill with the first song, experience with the sciences and practical aspects of sailing, and knowledge of botany make her quite the attractive advisor for him indeed.

Vandre Bardunn - Another notable advisor to King Arturas. He's a human, and a user of the Second Song. Notable in the fact that he doesn't particularly get along with Darcia. They frequently butt heads during meetings, and he almost seems to get a kick out of fucking around. Strangely enough, the one point that the two of them seem to agree on is that King Arturas probably shouldn't be hacking down the Forest of Alkune.

King Arturas' entourage - Due to her position, Darcia is frequently around members of Arturas' court, as well as his other workers and servants. She's not a stranger, though trying to remember everybody's names can get a touch confusing at times.

Professor Othellas Reynos - An Urkandian teacher at one of Tarudan's more prestigious universities. He's learned in the Third Song, and uses Mentale to assist in his teaching. Though he's never actually taught her, Othellas and Darcia have a good rapport, and he's the one that got Darcia her in with King Arturas. When she's available and in town, he and Darcia like to do brunch.

Kairiya Fauvelle - Darcia's mother, attuned to the Third Song with a lean into Attiser. She's an elf on the older end of things, clocking in at a respectable 214 years. To put things simply, Darcia's relationship with her mother is rocky. Darcia damaged their relationship when she ran away, and the time and distance only served to widen the gap. Even in the present, Darcia has a difficult time talking to her mother, which only became harder after her father passed. They occasionally exchange correspondence in the form of letters, but those have always been sparse at best.

Pau Fauvelle - Darcia's adopted younger brother, with no Song attunement. He's a human that Kairiya had taken in around 15 years ago. Now 22, he helps his adoptive mother with everything housework related. Darcia and Pau are not particularly close, primarily due to their mother and her relationship with Darcia. Darcia occasionally gets letters from him, though it's rare that they are from Pau only. He doesn't seem to understand the rift between Darcia and Kairiya.

Ivalla "Fourth's Reaper" Kurroh - Elven captain of the dreaded pirate ship known as 'The Maelstrom', which primarily plagues Taagan and Oakenhull. She's not attuned to a Song, but is known and feared as somebody who has trained specifically to fight Fourth Song users. Apparently she has some history with Darcia, but Darcia isn't particularly keen on talking about it. Rumors do state that Ivalla lost a member of her crew in her younger years, and still takes issue with it for some reason.

Inventory:
Battle Worn Cutlass - A well worn cutlass, more typical of pirates than of members of the court. It has a fancy, ornate handle, threaded with silvers and a scratched gemstone, though that doesn't detract from its ability as a weapon. Darcia doesn't typically like talking about where it came from, though it's always on her person.

Miniature Tree - A very small tree, set into a simple clay pot. It is something that Darcia has personally cultivated, and it grows mini lemons. She uses it to center herself, as well as a focus for her divination, should she need it.

Pruning Kit - A collection of small tools, meant to help Darcia maintain her little potted divination tree. Just as important as the tree itself.

Journal - A small, leather bound journal with a golden clasp. Darcia uses it to keep notes of things she finds important, as well as notable topics of discussion (particularly useful with Arturas). She has a feeling she'll be getting some use out of it.

Typical Adventuring Shit - Darcia knows this song and dance. Alongside her other, notable pieces of inventory, this is just a pack full of essentials. Clothing, simple cooking gear, sleeping bag, firestarters, tools for maintaining her gear. Shit like that.

Name: Guillairme, Priest of the Hushed Refrain.

Species: Human.

Song: Fourth. Guillairme excels as a Deathsinger, but he is able to sing a restful or very slight invigoration effect to a crowd as well. It’s not terribly impressive if you came to the sermon expecting a priest of the main three.

Age: Twenty-four, born in the third month.

Origin: Alma, Chunadie, the village of the Chateau d’Auberpine. This estate is one of many held by the de Montenay line.

Home: What a complicated question! As a priest of the Cellesian Ecclesiarchy Guy can reasonably expect a roof, basic sustenance, and perhaps even a mattress from churches on the road and villages in need of his services anywhere in Chunadie, but as a young priest of a minor cult has limited options for storing personal belongings. Few of the friends he made at school have postings yet either, and the holdings of his cult are few and far between. Perhaps he could store something with the priest in his home village or at his family's cruft house, but for the time being he owns what he can carry.

Appearance: At 5'9" Guillairme is quite tall for a Chunard peasant, and thoroughly average or even short by other metrics. His face is patterned with patches of freckles and old scars from an illness (and some from teenage acne). He wears his hair in a low ponytail; left to its own devices, it is a rich chestnut brown and wavy. His eyes are a soft grey-green, and noticably assymetrical. He enjoys wearing warm colors, but in all but his overcoat has had to settle for pastel tones due to cost. That herigaut is a rich autumn red on the exterior fabric, and vividly yellow and patterned with marigolds on the interior. His soft leather boots are protected by wooden pattens.

Personality: Kind and even-tempered, Guy does his best to bring a steady presence and a sympathetic ear to every occasion. In matters of faith his views are solidly formed and deeply believed, and he will speak on gods, ritual, and the mortal condition with the potentially patronizing confidence of expertise. On more mundane concerns, however, he can be indecisive and often a bit of a pushover for more forceful personalities.

Biography: Highlights: Born a serf, recommended to the priesthood for his temperament, nerdiness, and musical aptitude (not required to learn a song but it's good for preaching). While in cloister he picked not only a minor god, but a dead minor god as his patron because he was a teenager encouraged to think about the spiritual resonance of the choice rather than the material ramifications (and that one exorcism teacher who dropped in to teach for two years was really cool).
He's been a travelling priest for just a few years now and it is starting to sink in that this lifestyle is more precarious than he imagined it would be from the comfort of the monastery. But he's the one who admired the humble altruism of his patron, so any disatisfaction's clearly a fault he needs to overcome in himself, right?
The lord de Montenay had requested the town's priestess send for a priest of Mashele for his son Henri's valiant quest. But she, having her sponsored kid's back for this career boosting gig (even though he didn't pick Amarie) managed to convince him that a locally born priest would not only be substantially less expensive, but would bring more prestige to the estate.

Important Skills: Guillairme has a keen memory, an excellent sense of rhythm, and a lovely voice (a quality that is not as much of a baseline requirement for Singing as one might suppose). He can play a simple song on the lute or violin, and is decent with percussive instruments.
He can read and write Chunard as well as Kunard (Old Chunard), and is conversant but far from fluent in Doomthroom, Arcturan, and Chunard Sign, and knows enough Dwarven and Kaldan to ask for directions. His handwriting is crisp but his drawings are difficult to decipher.
Guy has a vast sum of priestly knowledge, able to perform all the rites for the major gods and a great many localized traditions. He knows a great many stories of the gods, but there always seem to be more, and so many regional variations!
His combat skills are nothing to write home about, but he can swing a mace without injuring himself.
He never learned how to read the weather properly.

Important People:
Family:
Helewyn Danyelle--Guillairme's eldest sister at twenty-nine. An artistic soul with no interest in romance, she works hard around the house and is skilled at sewing and spinning thread.
Bertin Danyelle--Guillairme's older living brother, twenty-two, hasn't been seen or heard from since he left to seek his fortune.
Geurffrey Danyelle--Guillairme's younger living brother, twenty-one with two children, working the land. Practical and stern, he has terrible aim with a bow but is a decent tracker.
Bele Rozeau--Geurffrey's wife who would rather spend her time in the woods than the fields, but does her part regardless. Knows everything about what's safe to forage and eat and what isn't.
Adelicia Danyelle--Guillairme's youngest living sister. Currently sixteen and enlisted. Cheerful and headstrong.
Jeairrma Remondeau–Guillairme’s namesake and granduncle. Three surviving children, two of whom became carpenters! Died before middle age of despair, the acute cause being alcohol poisoning.
Religion:
Priestess Millesenta of the Mother's Gifts (Amarie)--An older woman, fourth song user, hometown priestess, and Guy's sponsor. More politically savvy than Guillairme, but by and large prefers to stay out of the brawl. Her wife is probably the best brewer in town, but it's a competitive field.
Priest Jaqueret de Taberville of the Hushed Refrain--Fourth song user. A very laid back person, he was a very popular teacher with the students of the monastery, and very unpopular with the Abbot...for being TOO COOL? (For being somewhat flippant and casual when speaking about the gods, and for encouraging the students away from the Big Three)
Initiate Ivon--Fourth song user, left the monastery two years from graduation to go sailing. A very Ramaysian move, but did not do him any favors with his cult.
Cult of the Hushed Refrain--Not really a PEOPLE, but definitely an entity. This Cellesian cult began in a town freed from a lich, which took on a new name in honor of their savior. They became the modern incarnation of the cult when foreign priests arrived with news of the god's holy sacrifice--specifically, the priests wanted the town to change its name and erase all traces of it from any records. Because gods won't stay dead as easily as mortals. (The cult cheats on this slightly: full priests get to read the name. Silently.)
The Sleeping Lord: The god the Hushed Refrain formed around, referred to only by titles, the most common being "Seigneur Endormi". The legend goes that he was a shy but compassionate god, who understood the mortal condition better than most, having been torn apart and thrown into the domain of the Fourth Song following a fight with another god (which, clearly, he lost.) His current state of being dead is said to be a purposeful one, so that he may guard the dream beyond death and those who have joined with it.
Saint Ninness: The Sleeping Lord's companion during his one known expedition into Chunadie: the dismantling of the Meadowlark Lich-baron. The main reason Chunard mortals were aware of his involvement at all is that this foreigner insisted that they stick around to participate in the mortal celebrations afterwards. She seemed to have a good time!
Other:
Beaumont de Montenay--Fourth song user, feudal lord, Henri's dad.

Inventory:
Two sticks--it's an instrument
A donkey jawbone and bone mallet--it's also an instrument
A donkey--this one actually belongs to the de Montenays, but Guy brushes her down at the end of the day. Her name's Brulie.
A second set of clothes--excluding the coat and shoes
Wax tablets with stylus--Reusable, less expensive than paper
Paper and a small quantity of ink--for letters, occasionally.
Money purse--it's pretty empty.
Herbs and spices--for setting on fire and other ritual matters, not for eating.
An ornate iron mace--a Cellesian Priest's symbol of office, and a requirement for performing certain rites of Mashele.
A variety of good luck charms--created and exchanged by novices in their last year at the monastery
A loop of patterned beads--a prayer focus and teaching device, each bead is painted with a different god's symbolism.
Cooking set--A small iron pot, skewer, big spoon, plate, and eating utensils.
Waterskin--Essential
Letters from friends--Only about ten. The rest he left with Millesenta.

Name: Holek Sniffley

Species: Halfling

Song: Second song, food themed

Age: 50, a good year for adventure!

Origin: Alma, Saurgard, Village Of Strummhamm.

Home: The distant northern  kingdoms are known for their unity through hating each other, their horrifyingly cold winters, their sharp weapons which . They are less known for their wide variety of hardy fruit bearing trees and mushrooms that only grow in these climates, and which are also resistant to spoilage, if prepared properly. Many chefs and farmers, especially halflings and goblins, live in the forestry outskirts of these city states, being nice to each other in small hamlets. In fact, this rural pleasant culture has spread all over the northern Kingdoms, and the call of raiding and civil war has been slowly phased out in the main cities. Although the league is still pretty isolated, both geographically and politically, most people who are suspicious of the northerners' silence are awaiting a series of new attacks... 
While preserving food is a technique of skilled farmers, they do like to employ food mages to bolster their crops, and increase the quality of final products. After all, everyone wins this way: there is more food for everyone, and the farmers need less land to feed people, so there is plenty of living space for everyone.
But recently, they started to desire a new kind of raid. The eminent adventures once again gathered in their longships. Yes, once again, they travel south to find… new kinds of plants, recipes and spices. The Frigid Raids have begun.

Appearance: Pale skin with freckles, red hair that resembles hedgehog spines, a stubby nose. Not overweight, but definitely well fed. Wears Strummhamm style folk coat, folk trousers and folk leggings, along with a chef’s hat. Carries around a felt puppet in the shape of a human chef.

Personality: Holek suffers from anxiety, and mumbles quietly when addressed. However, with the aid of his hand puppet, he has uttermost confidence! Even if his face does not show it. He has been like this ever since his grandfather who was also his role model was humiliated in front of the chef league, for his idea of combining ham and ice cream, forcing Holek to hide behind a felt proxy to shield his fragile soul. Holek considerably speeds up if panicked, and becomes a nimble fighter. He is quick and methodical in his work, although if he uses his puppet to channel the second song, he displays a much greater affinity for theatrics.

Biography: Holek lived his early life in the village of Oakenham, helping out around his grandfather’s family-manor. As per family custom, at the age of twelve, he joined his grandfather’s apprentices, getting a formal education in reading and writing - recipe books that is. His siblings and cousins learned the secrets of the forest herbs and spices together, albeit, this did not extend to survival lessons, they much preferred to stay in their comfy manor. 
His skills grew fast, enough to be picked as his grandpa’s personal assistant for an upcoming exhibition of the Chef League, much to the envy of his siblings. Sadly, his grandfather’s creation of ice creamed ham was horrible, and received a scathing review from all the chefs. Thinking that it was his fault, he became much more quiet and withdrew from cooking. He was right in a way: he didn’t question his grandfather’s vision, and in fact, he has not even tasted the food to check if it is alright. 
After some time, he has learned that cooking is not just about memorizing old recipes, and replicating orders barked by chefs. No, you must feel the state of food with your heart, and understand the true reasons behind the ancient techniques. Still traumatized by the public humiliation, he gathered his resolve, and started to experiment with ingredients, and instead of following the recipes as written, he cross referenced them, and found truth in all of them.
Eventually, he announced that he will tour the northern kingdoms, and learn the second song: or rather, the announcement was in the form of an ornately penned parchment he put up on the message board. He reasoned, with the power of the second song, he would be able to draw out the true power of his creations, adding one final ingredient: a touch of his soul. But turns out, his voice was too meek and his words too minced to work properly. The school’s master of songcraft has offered him a solution that was used only a few times in living memory: an instrument, made of felt, that he could use to channel his song, and speak through it. And thus, be in harmony with himself. 
At the age of 40, he finally mastered this craft. With his puppet, he was able to truly make his creations ascend, their flavour and nutrition match his dreams. He combined his careful self, with a bold self. His methodical self and his experimental self. He truly has become a chef singer.
A decade later, he decided to join one of the Frigid Raids, to find more ingredients in the south, new recipes, and hopefully bring them home, and invent new fusion recipes, using Fire Signature.

He also learned how to hit people with a frying pan effectively, but there is nothing dramatic behind that, he just did.

Important Skills: Cooking, second song, improvised weapons, showmanship, shiphandling, foraging, penmanship, ventriloquism. Fryttertunge, Chunadie

Important People: 
Halvar Sniffley: Grandfather of Holek. Used to be the greatest chef in the local area, until one fateful day where he became a recluse. He is still alive and kicking, surviving on sheer spite.
Friz Kub, Supreme Chef: The current supreme chef, orc. Song user, second song, ice. Prefers to make frozen desserts as a main dish, and he is too large and loud to be stopped. Can Holek one day rise up to the challenge and challenge him?
Balvarda Sniffley: A cousin of Holek, thinks using songs to augment food is against the spirit of the thing. She has been to a Frigid Raid once, and recommended Holek to the raid leader.
Hada Sniffley: Cousin of Sniffley. She is an elite member of the hunters who fight against the lizards, and a supplier of lizard meat. She doesn’t care about cooking, but she cares about her family.
Rorak Blarholm: Human, Frigid Raid leader. Knows all the hottest food rumors, and charts the path and trains the crew of chefs to sail the boat safely and speedily. Has a fake hook hand, which he wears on a gauntlet, and is inconsistent about which hand he keeps it on.

Inventory: 
Felt human chef puppet - crucial!
Cooking implements - for cooking and fighting
Jars- for samples of rare items
Ornate diary and writing kit - penning recipes
Coinage - random jumble of coins from various countries
Casual clothes - when not in chef mode

Name: Terzi
Species: Tsavari
Song: Second, born attuned.
Age: 29
Origin: Salin, Renkafisler Arcology – Long fallen.
Home: Her home is a tall pack, carried on their back or on a pack animal if they're traveling with a caravan. They live upon the open roads and on the generosity and graciousness of strangers.
Currently, Terzi is staying in the Le Delanesse, a tavern, inn, and bordello. The girls seem nice but she's only staying for the cheap rate.
Appearance: Imagine if you threw a bunch of scrap circus cloth onto a thorn bush. This, in effect, is Terzi. She is slender, tall, at 6'8”, and has, if one were to see her lightly clothed, sunset hued scales. Her head sports two rear frills with yellow, red, and purple 'false eye' patterns. Most of this is generally covered in head to toe clothing, however. Terzi wears a motley collection of robes, scarves, and trinkets. Her head is usually covered with a cloth hood, the only aspect of her face generally visible are her bright, piercing eyes. The lower two are wine red, the upper one is a brilliant purple. At her belt always are two colorful pieces of tightly sewn cloth, curled up into coils.

Personality: Like a warm summer wind, Terzi is generally laid back and kind. She does, however, also avoid forming too many permanent connections. While she seems friendly and approachable, more time spent with her will highlight how little she gives away about herself. While Terzi isn't the type to commit her life to helping others, she does help those she encounters, and cares deeply for intelligent life.
Still, the emotional distance she keeps from others and her habit of continually moving onwards can make her seem cold.

Biography:

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When Terzi was a child no older than 8 when her home Arcology, Renkafisler, suffered a catastrophic breakdown of its protective systems. It is, to this day, unknown what happened, and Terzi, never having had the luxury of pursuing much other than her own survival and goals, has never looked into it. All she can barely remember is faded memories of being a child in the Arcology's lauded Market District, marveling at the rainbow of multicolored banners and motley selection of vendors hawking their wares. Her mother had taken her out, and was buying... Something. She can't remember what. Suddenly, she felt the wind shift. Someone shouted something, she couldn't hear, and a panic swept over the crowd. Her mother scooped her up and started to flee for an exit when... She started laughing. Everyone in the square started laughing. Terzi remembers a tickling sensation as unbidden feelings flooded into her mind. Suddenly, she was laughing, too. She kept laughing even when her mother dropped her to the ground, and continued as she watched her mother double over the side of a market stall. Then, suddenly, the weeping came. Then, the fear. Paranoia. Anger. With every change Terzi watched the adults react more and more energetically to the change. Suddenly, she felt pain and her mind stretch as waves of conflicting emotions came in tandem. As emotions flooded her young mind, Terzi struggled to stand, and, step by step, started to stumble out of the market square, screaming, laughing, weeping, determined to find her father so that he could help them both. The last thing she remembers seeing of her mother is her weeping, reaching out to her, before shifting to rage, her face contorting with anger as she screamed something Terzi is thankful she doesn't remember.
The time between that and the Zrucan relief crews finding her in the Arcology's outer ring was indeterminable to her. All she knows is that when she was pulled out of the Second Song emotion storm, things felt incredibly, incredibly still. She fell into a ball and didn't speak for days. When she did come to, she found herself scarred by the experience. Her nervous system, overwhelmed with the sensation her brain sent throughout her body, had partially burnt out, and most of her body felt covered by an aching stillness. With no family or no future, she asked to join a group of Tsavari Fleshsingers, Sisters of the Soothing Strings. They adopted her into their order, and she studied the healing aspects of the Second Song up into her later teens.
It was at this time she learned that using the Second Song to heal the widespread nerve damage she had suffered would be extremely costly and almost unfeasible. The only way she could ever hope to have it healed would be to learn it herself, which could take decades. While she could treat her condition and keep it manageable, a cure within her young adulthood years would be out of reach. Feeling like her youth was stolen from her, Terzi suffered an emotional break and left the Sisterhood, roaming the Arcology in a self-destructive journey and binge to find something that could grant her a full sense of feeling again.
She was dying in a dry gutter, just out of sight of anyone who'd care enough to help, when Anisifa found her.
Anisifa was no one important. She was a seamstress, yes, but she wasn't even the best one in the city. But her skills were in demand, and that gave her the funds and the means to be willing to take on a broken stranger she found in an alleyway. She nursed Terzi back to health, and when a confused Terzi asked why, Anisifa just remarked that she was an old woman with a hobby of mending frayed and damaged things. When Terzi was healthy enough to leave, she realized that the old woman was going to ask for no payment for all she had done. Not comfortable with this, Terzi asked if she could stay and help Anisifa with her business, in whatever way she could. When Anisifa learned that Terzi was no stranger to a needle, she agreed- but only when Terzi convinced her that room, board, and food was good enough payment.
Terzi lived with Anisifa for about five years, learning the skills and trade of a seamstress, but also devoting herself back to studying the Second Song. She grew obsessed with how cloth could be repaired and mended with the right skills and materials, and desired that healing the body could be so simple. But then she realized, what if it could? What if the very organic, failing bodies we inhabit could be turned to mendable, pliable cloth? And wasn't cloth, on some level, organic? Could not the Second Song be turned to animate it as well?
And so, eventually, Terzi bid a fond farewell to the seamstress. The answers to her Second Song study would only lay on the road, in ancient ruins and near-forgotten folk songs. She'd either find it there, or she'd find it herself.
Chunadie has a long history of fashion and clothworking, and, combined with her study of old Chunard myths, Terzi believes a lead might be hiding in the hills of the country. But a violent dragon has set up shop in some of those hills, so a dragon-hunting expedition might be the opportunity she needs...

Important Skills:
SECOND SONG FLESHSINGING- Terzi studied enough with the Sisters of the Soothing String for basic healing. She can heal bruises, minor sprains and cracks in bone (with time), and minor illnesses. She can perform the most well known technique of the Sisterhood, which is playing music that calls to the Second Song that soothes the pain of those near her. She usually makes some coin this way in sickrooms and battlefield hospitals.

SECOND SONG CLOTHSINGING- This isn't an established school of the Second Song, it's one Terzi is trying to research and establish. So far, her only breakthrough is weaving silk from spider webs. This requires intense amounts of time and generally only produces enough silk for small crafts. And this isn't satisfactory to Terzi, as she wants to find some way to apply the song to all textiles and cloths. She's convinced that there must be some magical constant between human crafts and creations, deeper beneath the material level of the work's compisition.

MUSIC – Terzi channels the second song through music. Generally, she does so through either singing or playing her instrument of choice, the Kanun, one of her few relics of her time spent learning under the Sisterhood. The Kanun is a stringed instrument meant to be played while sitting. She also performs for coin, as well, and music is one of her many talents which makes her travels possible.

ACROBATICS – Terzi spent a few of her first years traveling in the company of a circus troupe. While there, she studied with their acrobats, where she learned how to leap, tumble, and wield a pair of weighted cloth whips. This is another of her sources of income, as well as a means of survival in moments of danger.

SHORT STAVE COMBAT – Terzi's other weapon of choice is a four foot shortstaff (well, short for her). She's trained extensively with it, always taking a chance to spar with any combat practicioners she travels with.

TAILORING – Both a skill and a hobby, Terzi is enthusiastic about sewing and clothwork. She usually sells self-made goods for coin, and she always has a project in her pack to work on after making camp.

SCHOLARLY STUDIES – Terzi knows several Salin dialects, Chunard, and MOSTLY speaks Hull. She's also worked at being able to read Old Chunard, and she knows bits and pieces of old languages from everywhere she's traveled.


Important People:

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MOTHER AND FATHER: Neza and Demir – Terzi knows almost nothing about her parents. As far as she remembers and can tell, they were poor and barely got by. She remembers that her mother was a great singer (Second Song practitioner, maybe?) and that her father was a laborer who worked long hours. When she got older, she managed to get a member of the rescue expedition that had been sent into Renkafisler to confirm a description of her mother as one of the bodies they'd found in the market district. The older Tsavari refused to give any other details, though, and insisted Terzi was better off not knowing them.

ABBESS BOCET: Before she was the abbess of the Sisterhood of Soothing Strings, Sister Lavinia-Doina Bocet was Mother of the Young Choir, meaning, essentially, she was the member of the order who directly looked after and educated the young orphans that the Sisterhood took in. While they got along wonderfully when Terzi was little, the relationship strained once Terzi hit frustation with the limits of her Second Song ability in her teens. This was, coincidentally, about the time the prior Abbess died, and Sister Lavinia was chosen to take her place. Her relationship with Terzi did not improve, and within a couple years Terzi left the Sisterhood. They haven't spoken since, and while Terzi does feel a little bad about taking the Kanun she was gifted with her, Lavinia certainly didn't take any efforts to track her down while she was still living in Zrucan afterwards. She is, of course, a Second Song practicioner. She's a fleshsinger, and plays the Cimbalom, an instrument that some would say is way too jaunty an instrument for a stern old nun. Abbess Bocet would, however, remind them that she started playing it as a young woman, and the orphans she looked after loved it.

ANISITA – Terzi speculates that part of why the seamstress took her in was due to their shared lost home of Renkafisler. Unlike Terzi, Anisita emigrated from there well before its fall. However, as Terzi found out while living with her, Anisita had family in Renkafisler when it fell, family who were never found or located. But the Seamstress would only talk of these things on cold nights after a few too many strong drinks. She taught Terzi everything she knew about clothwork, and Terzi hopes someday to repay her with some fine foreign fabrics.

PCIUNE VECH-MOLI – Pciune is a scholar specializing in translating documents from Alma for patrons throughout Zucran. They agreed to help tutor Terzi in Alma languages in return for her helping heal a minor, persistent health condition. As Terzi's studies of the history of Alma's nations proceeded, she zeroed in on Chunadie, while also deciding that she needed to know Hull, as well. Her studies with Pciune didn't leave her fluent in either, but they gave her enough knowledge to start with. She ended up being more of a nuisance to Pciune than anything else, but Pciune is a notorious pushover, so no conflict ever came of it. When she left Zucran, they breathed a sigh of relief.

CRANNOG 'CRANN' FRASER – A scholar of Hull who Terzi convinced to play host to her while she stayed in Hull and continued her study of its language and culture. With access to the royal archives, he helped Terzi understand two things: one, nothing related to lost Second Song knowledge would be found on the island, and two, an archives usefulness for tracking down myths and legends might correlate to how old it is. Since Oakenhull was relatively new, the only lost knowledge she could find were sailor's legends of lost, frightening, but wholly uninteresting (to Terzi) islands.
Crann also claimed to be a healer of the mind, but from what Terzi could tell, this was mostly an excuse to talk to people about their pasts and gather gossip.

MARCELINE OF ST. VERVAIN – Circus mistress of SAINT VERVAIN'S MENDACIOUS MENAGERIE, a traveling troupe of entertainers that Terzi traveled with through Chunadie for several years. Marceline agreed to let her tag along in return for mending the costumes, tents, and props of the performers. Marceline is a fellow Second Song user, but one who uses the element of light. She uses this for flashy displays which go along well with her gregarious nature and loud boasts. Curiously, plays the song by tapping on the ground with her cane, which is topped with a silver cap in the shape of a moth.

THE QUARTERMASTER – A performer in the circus claiming to be an experienced mercenary, the Quartermaster is a weathered old man in peak physique. He's a Fourth Song user, which he uses by playing a one-handed brass horn, and he also claims to be a master of 'every martial style to exist.' While Terzi doesn't believe that is true, she could never beat him in a sparring match. He trained her on the use of the short-staff and also helped assist her in perfecting her use of the weighted cloth whip. His shows are usually displays of flashy swordplay and combat feats. Oddly, he never seemed to ask much for his lessons. Terzi just assumed that he loves to tell people how to fight correctly.

SALLE THE SKYFISH – Another performer in the circus, Salle is an acrobat, and a very skilled one at that. When not performing on the high wire, she dazzles the crowd with leaps, handsprings, somersaults, and other various shows of dexterity. She trained Terzi in tumbling and gymnastics, as well as proper stretching, something which Terzi has found helpful for her chronic numbness. Salle also likes to perform with a pair of weighted cloth whips, which she uses to grab props and strike targets. Though she doesn't do it for performances, she also knows how to use them to grapple people, and taught Terzi as much when the Tsavari showed interest. In return, Terzi helped her put together the flashiest costumes she could.

SIRENE THE TRAVELING BARMAID – Sirene served as a barmaid in the circus's bar tent that would be set up at each show. Strikingly beautiful and with a wit sharp as a tack, she had her share of suitors within both the circus and its clientele, but Sirene only seemed to have eyes for Terzi. This was unfortunate for her, as Terzi had many more pressing things on her mind other than romance. She eventually made her desires rather explicit, and Terzi, having not really entertained such ideas before, decided to go with it. They dated for about half of her travels with the circus. A few months before Terzi left, she broke things off with Sirene, claiming that she wasn't really in the place for a relationship in her life right now. This was partially true, but Terzi also just hadn't ever been as involved in the idea as Sirene had. Their last argument was the last time Sirene spoke to her, remaining cold to Terzi until she left the circus.
Terzi felt a bit of regret over Sirene taking it so badly, but didn't show it. Clothsinging was going to be enough of a pursuit as is without a relationship to worry over.

ITEMS AND POSSESSIONS: Terzi only owns what she can carry, so this list shouldn't be too long.

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ONE PAIR OF WEIGHTED CLOTH WHIPS: made from tent canvas, heavily stitched, with two lengths of leather at each end hiding a few metal weights, Terzi's whips are made for striking lightly armored targets and grappling combatants. She's also practiced at using them for climbing, as well.

A PALMWOOD SHORT-STAFF WITH BRONZE CAP – Terzi's staff, a gift from Circus Mistress Marceline, is a four foot length of treated palmwood with a bronze cap and ferrule. The cap sports engravings of silk moths.

EXTRA ROBES, SCARVES, AND LIGHT PIECES OF CLOTHING – Terzi doesn't carry a full wardrobe but she does have various pieces of light clothing so that she has options for different occasions. The odd standout is a fine purple silk dress, wrapped very carefully, that Terzi has worn twice. Once at the insistence of Anisita, who claimed she 'needed a model', and second for a special night out with Sirena.

SEWING KIT, SUPPLIES PLUS LEATHERWORKING KIT, SUPPLIES – Terzi owns a personal set of tailoring tools for work on the road.

VARIOUS BITS OF SCRAP CLOTH, THE OCCASIONAL SEWING PROJECT – Again, Terzi tries to keep things reasonable, since when she's not traveling with a group, she's the one backpacking her stuff around.

TRAVELING RATIONS, CANTEEN

A STEEL DAGGER – She's not good with it, though the Quartermaster showed her the basics of holding and thrusting it. The mostly carries it as a tool.

LOCKPICKS – Like sewing, lockpicking requires precision. It also requires instruction and practice, neither of which Terzi has. In fact, she keeps these mixed with her sewing needles. Someday she'll learn.

SEASHELL LOCKET – A small locket in the shape of a seashell. A gift from Sirene to mark an occasion. Terzi keeps it less out of sentiment and more because it was a gift, and she values gifts. Doesn't wear it.

PERSONALIZED KANUN – Terzi's kanun is almost a work of art. It is an instrument which, in for most people, would take up their entire lap. But in Terzi's wide frame it looks much more manageable, being just over three feet long. It is made of well treated and polished rosewood, with ebony pegs and bronze mandals. It has sound holes in the shape of the wings of a butterfly or moth, and is decorated with images of purple hyacinths.
It is a deeply personal gift, representing culture and flora she remembers in fleeting glimpses of her childhood. This instrument is probably one of Terzi's most valued possessions.

TARNISHED SILVER ARMLET – a braided, silver armlet that has seen much wear. It belonged to her mother, and was one of the few possessions that crews who explored the ruins of Renkafisler brought back to her. It was one of the few important enough to keep.

MAP OF CHUNADIE, BOOK OF CHUNADIE MYTHS – Resources for locating old Chunadie ruins and places of myth. Unfortunately, her first (theoretical) location has a murderous dragon sat on it.

A PERSONAL JOURNAL ON SECOND SONG STUDIES – A book within which Terzi has been recording both her knowledge and studies of Fleshsinging (one section) and her studies and theories for Clothsinging (another section, very empty.) She also records short descriptions of her travels and various trivia, lore, and folksongs that catch her interest (a third section).

Name: Caulind Raithahir

Species: Elf (High elf, Tereen)

Song: Third Song - Mentale remains his specialty. Retains an ability of Attiser but at the cost of losing the ability of Frein.
Picked up Esprit over first time skip.
Worked on Vie over second time skip.

Age: 79

Origin: Vasara of Cestra of Alma. Or at least, that's where his mom left him before bouncing for Dad to raise him.

Home: A mountainous island in the Nedakean ocean, that has a white-stone stronghold of the Bright Tree on it. Rarely tends to be more than a 100 people at once on the island running things. Trains new song users there and sends them out to keep contacts and be a force of good in the world and in general opinion, trim away at evil in the hearts of mortals.

Appearance: Pale blue eyes, gentle and dim like a winter pond's shade. Dark night skin with a more nightish faint blueish hue, and more pitch black ebony hair, a few freckled splotches over the place. A bit stockier looking than your average elf and softer features, carries himself more like a graceful, tall human. Animalistic features, cat fangs, eyes with dilating pupils like felines except ice-white pupils and a tail underneath his robes, slightly more talonish long fingers and nails.

6' 2'' in height, walks lightly and with smooth motions rather than suddenness. Looks more like he keeps in reasonable shape in terms of build. Pierced ears with different loops of metal, and a nose piercing too. No scars oddly enough. Short, fine hair that's a little stiff, and a trimmed beard around his face.

His fashion sense has three styles. Simple traveler that keeps himself well garbed in simple blues and blacks where he's used silver thread to sew in patterns or a mixture of stars and branches. His garbed up uniform where he decks out, face and features more hidden away and covered. Then when, if possible, at royal events decked and blinged out in jewelry where things are very, very extra.

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Personality: Caulind wears that aura of old beyond his appearance some elves pick up. Maybe it's that he's had very little to do with elf culture or relationships, or just the life he's led. Despite being youngish for an elf, there's a gentle melancholy weariness tied to a look of experiences he hasn't quite come to terms with yet. 

Thankfully he's good at hiding that deep part of himself, mostly. Keeps up an amiable atmosphere, the kind of smile that seems to bubble out. When Caulind shows emotions, they seem to roil out of him. When he's excited, there's an energy in his entire body like he wants to hug the whole world. When he's sad, he cries and his whole body shakes with the grief of it. When he's angry, he shows a cold, almost cruel in it's rigidness, absence of any signs of joy or forgiveness or lenience.

Thankfully he's, at his heart, someone that wants everyone to get along and for things to work out well. And he believes if he can roll up his sleeves, he can see it happen. Generally speaking. He has to see it that way because the failures behind him haunt him, and he has trouble letting go of regrets and mistakes. So the only way he can get past that is the hope that he can make the future better regardless.

Will try anything once, will hear anybody out at least, will offer anyone a chance more than they deserve.

Biography:

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So. It all begins with... an elf princess, and a human prince. Princess Astorbain Raithahir and Prince Thatch Silefui. He was a young royal of a small human country out in the back end of things, who would one day be king but not any time soon hopefully. She was a high elf princess set to be married out to have one final big ass f***ing party out in the realm of Alma and with lower standards than she'd claim. He was funny, charming and got her more than she expected some young human to figure out. She also thought he was cute, for a human. Not like anyone was ever going to know. No one she cared about anyway.

Except...well, nature took it's course which was fine and fun for all involved, and then those certain herbs and medicines that were meant to stop nature taking it's course any further kinda dropped the ball which was a little less fine and fun for all involved although Caulind would say he's okay with how things turned out overall. One pretty irresponsible pregnancy later where Astorbain showed very little care for changing her behaviour from the party mode she was now extending for another few extra months, Caulind was popped out and promptly dumped on Thatch's hands as she passed back through his region. Toodles dear!

Things were a little... awkward after that. Thatch the first had already been set up to be married to a very fine noblewoman, Cristine, from Marre that he was honestly getting along with already. Thankfully he managed to smooth things out with her, promising that A. This was just a one night stand thing that had happened with a lot of wine before he'd met her and B. Caulind obviously wasn't going to be like, the crown prince or anything. This point was bickered over a bit, she wanted their, by which she meant definitely also her, children to be the ones to inherit, and thankfully a sage at the court made the suggestion of granting the bastard son to another organisation rather than kept around court where, you know, politics could theoretically happen and make things tense.

And that was how little baby Caulind's life was decided. He was kept around a while, until he was a little over 10. There was a little trouble conceiving between the King and Queen and yes, he was an elf bastard from some random high elf, but, Cristine warmed up well enough to Caulind thankfully despite keeping a practical political eye on the situation. Rather than being treated like shit and ostracised or anything, he was given a proper education for one of royal blood even though the title of prince had an asterix next to it, and Cristine found herself okay with forming a slightly distant and wary, but still motherly relationship with Caulind. It really went as well as it could have, Caulind having a fairly happy early childhood, up until his brother Kirk was born, the true heir.

It was with some difficulty but, Caulind was technically a political threat now and despite his parents knowing it would probably be fine to keep him around still, they decided to follow through with the agreement they'd made a decade ago when the Bright Tree organisation came calling, the conditions for claiming Caulind now in place. There was obviously some crying and frustration, and little 10 year old Caulind not understanding why he couldn't stay with his family and friends, and not able to be placated by the promise of adventure and magic and scared of the strange elf in white robes that would take him away. It wasn't until Cristine told him that he'd be able to learn how to protect Kirk with what he learnt that he calmed at all. That was something a little more concrete, that helped form a sense of responsibility in Caulind. If that hadn't been said to him, if he'd had to be forcefully dragged away, maybe the youngling's emotions would have turned to jealously and hate rather than a willingness to help and care after others.

So he left. He was allowed to return home to visit at times. When Thatch the II was born, some royal events, etc. The organisation of the Bright Tree were hard trainers with practical minds, but not so cold and calculating that they thought it better to sever their members from where they'd come from rather than remember the world they were a part of. Besides, such contacts as Caulind's could be useful obviously. They're not as insanely authorative as say, the jedi. [[shots fired]].

The Bright Tree were... something like problem solvers? Ambassadors? Their independent goals tended to be the destruction or imprisonment of immortal beings of malicious intent and nature. Not that they wouldn't accept calls for aid from other situations at time to time, understanding both the value of good PR, sending out specialised squads to collect information, foster good will and stability, and keep an eye on the world and the plates generally spinning, willing to use calls for help as opportunities to nip future potential disasters in the bud. But on paper, the brass tacks, what was explained first to their students and the one concrete fact known to the outside world, they killed immortals. Beings too powerful and too malevolent to be left for merely their victims to stand up against and counter, squads of the Bright Tree could be expected to if not fight themselves, level the playing field at least against them.

Caulind's aptitude for the third song was found and fostered, forming an early relationship in his teens with Mella, Varney and Rourke. A halfling, urkadi and a human respectively. Mella was the analysist and scientific scholar, breaking things into numbers and how most logically to proceed as well as sharing necessary practical information needed. Varney was the general muscle, power and practical member of the group as well as the medic and cook, taking care of the group physically. Rourke was the philosopher, specialised muscle (assassin) and expert on immortals in general, as well as the one who could help justify and make moral calls when needed. Caulind kept the group working together as a team and greased the wheels with talking to outside people in the world and worked to make sure everyone was happy and emotionally balanced.

Their first big job, they were sent to because of Caulind. King Volgud Selefui of Ralane had been suspected of suspicious behaviour for a while. These confirmations were confirmed by the request of aid from his exiled daughter, princess Kida Selefui. Tales of villages left empty of peasantry, collected in windowless carts by grim-faced knights. Of blood rituals and terrible songs sang out in the capital city. The word vampire muttered by the scholars of the Bright Tree brought a heavy mood to the leader's thoughts, as well as the consideration of such corruption in a position of power. It had to be stood against, if for no other reason than for any other being of sufficient resources deciding that such evils weren't even worth it if they were going to get murdered for it anyway.

Blah-blah-blah, civil war, adventure, shenanigans. It took a couple of years for the guerrilla forces of Princess Kida to grow into a full rebellion force that stormed the capital. Cultists were butchered, wicked nobles and their crimes dragged out and held accountable to, and King Volgud destroyed by the combined forces of Mella, Varney, Caulind and Rourke. Mella helped with reorganising things after that, Varney with reconstruction, Caulind and Kida got married and got to work on holding who needed to be held to account and fixing the aristocracy and business of making sure the country could run again whilst Rourke dealt with the clean up of dangerous information and purging out cultists and whomever had given Volgud the knowledge and aid to get like this in the first place.

That was the beginning of things going down hill, looking back.

Caulind was distracted with his new duties to his wife and getting back into royal politics, paying back the aid his brother Kirk and the kingdom of Cestra had offered during this rebellion and smoothing relationships between Cestra and Ralane. He didn't really have time to help with the next mission his squad went on. A brutal plague, known as the "Bloody Death" sweeped through the cities of the Tumbay jungle that outright killed most it passed through but for some reason left those humans afflicted by it as merely suffering pain-ridden victims that tore madly at blotched-red swollen skin as the blood vessels seemed to erupt and burst within yet didn't outright kill them. Those human sufferers seemed to be even more infectious than those victims that just died outright, and things turned violent and barbaric and cruel. The non-humans suffering from the disease found that certain fruit could be used to mitigate the effects to non-lethal levels and the disease passed through their systems swiftly, but all it did for the humans was ease the effects also without actually curing it and there was only so much of the fruit to go around and each time it seemed to be isolated and brought under control in one city, another eruption of cases began somewhere else and the cities began to turn on each other.

A mad fey from the jungle was eventually hunted down and slain, believing she was blessing the mortals with her gift of singing blood and that such beautiful new dreaming trees would bloom from their corpses. This... obviously had a lasting effect on the squad and Caulind was commanded to get his ass in gear and make sure his team was okay after that. It had been a worse mission morale wise than the Bright Tree had expected considering what it had done to the relations between humans and non-humans and handled worse than even most outbreaks of plague in terms of brutal actions taken to handle it.

Caulind tried to keep things chipper on the next missions, but there was a sense of something fractured. That he hadn't been there for what they'd seen. Rourke and Varney drew into each other's company a little further and Mella became a little colder, but things seemed to slowly improve over time, or at least, Caulind wrote it off as just the group maturing and changing, it happened. And then... Well... Rourke went fucking evil and insane. Long story fucking short and got turned into a statue of himself screaming whilst parts of Varney's now stone form too constrained and fused into him. An attempt to fuse himself and Varney into an immortal singular being, had been, if not outright stopped, then turned into a song to contain him, all four voices of four once friends tied into a ritual of souls and thoughts and matter and binding. Since the only way they'd been able to interrupt and subvert the purpose of Rourke's ritual had been to create a mental link between them all, they'd all felt each other's final moments. Rourke's hidden madness and ffragments of heretical wisdom learnt from the Dark Tree, Varney's horror and grief at the twisted form their love had turned into. Mella's utter revulsion and the death of any remaining whimsey in herself at this. Caulind felt and remembers it all still.

That was the end of their group. Mella and Caulind have barely spoken since.

Caulind's final mission was with a fresher squad, overseeing them as they investigated an entity in the forest of mirrors. This... didn't go great. There was a demon, Surmir, just, tearing people's minds open into worshiping it and making cruel deals and offers in exchange for power over them that escalated and escalated until they were utter thralls, their minds existing purely to serve what the demon wanted. This thing had... a lot more juice than Caulind had expected.

Thankfully, a resident fey being was mildly offended by all this unpleasantness going on in her forest, now that it was Summer of course. If the winter beings of the territory were okay with such things, very well, but Sírclaer had higher tastes of things. With Sírclaer's aid, a deal was struck. Thankfully Surmir was pretty young in it's power and got screwed to the fucking wall by Sírclaer on Caulind's behalf, since Surmir had had no idea that one of the members of Caulind's group was a hidden fey. The downside to things was... a mild double-cross. Surmir found itself unable to expand it's power beyond that already collected since, he found himself locked into having to feed on Caulind before he could feed on anyone else. And he couldn't broker a deal with Caulind because Caulind lost his ability to read in a separate deal with Sírclaer. Fey bullshit, it's weird, fucking confusing business, but it made sense to Sírclaer which apparently was the important thing for this shenanigan working. Buuuuut she decided she liked Caulind so helped him "escape" the immediate wrath of Surmir by turning him into a cat and keeping him for 20 years.

Or was it just a single summer season? That's what it was for everyone else at least, when Caulind escaped from the forest by just being the utter worst housepet during a very important meeting between fey of the woods and Sírclaer deciding he'd outstayed his welcome. Though he was left with some changes to remember his stay with her by. Aka, cat ears, tail, etc.

He doesn't quite remember everything she dragged him into in the forest of mirrors. Strange impossible fey adventures, things that still don't make sense to his conscious mind but the buried memories of it touch his dreams still, the sense of them making more truth and comprehensible.

Caulind found his control over the third song, the power of it in his voice already waning from the trauma of missions so far, further lost to him and multiple medative techniques were taught to him on behest of the Bright Tree organisation to stop himself aggravating mental traumas in other nearby beings his mind brushed against when he slept.

This was after he'd instead headed home for a while, just wanting to see his wife and children again. A whole half-year without seeing your family is bad, but if it's multiple decades for you... Well. He remained on sabbatical for a while, claiming that he could handle what had happened and just needed a break. Maybe if he'd gotten help needed first things wouldn't have... hmm. Kida and Caulind found themselves bickering more and more. Stress around the palace seemed to sky rocked despite Caulind getting stuck in to try and help and be there for his family and the kingdom of Ralane as much as he could, with the more he tried and tried, pushing himself, the worse everything seemed to get. It wasn't until a particularly raucous night of drinking turned into a bloody brawl that another third song user began to suspect what was happening, and mentioned it to Queen Kida. A few nights later of conscious study, seeing Prince Caulind's restlessness in his sleep effecting those nearby that the whole thing spilled out.

He had to go. In this state not only was he a danger to people's emotional wellbeing, even if he had control of his abilities fully, she was just... Caulind wasn't the same man she'd married, she wasn't the same princess he'd married and the relationship, him staying here all the time, wasn't working either. So Kida made the hard call on the situation that he wanted to work through, and told him to leave.

That obviously, sucked. It was heartbreaking. They both knew it was. Caulind and Kida were aware of each other's emotions keenly, even without the link they shared from Caulind's third song exposure between them.

Caulind has been mostly just... wandering since then, for the last decade or so since the divorce, picking himself together and working more as an observer and wanderer for the Bright Tree. Since he's an elf and nobility, they're a little more easy going about him coming back in the future, and he's not really necessary for anything noble related so... Yeah. He's recently found himself in the city of Marray and heard something about a dragon. Could be something to see of interest certainly?

Important Skills: Staff fighting and unarmed fighting in terms of combat skills. Mild skill at medicine. Good at dancing. Very handy at sewing and with needles. Good at lying and reading emotions. Business. Knowledgeable of bureaucracy, law and royal matters.

Important People: Ex-Wife: Kida Silefui, human. - Queen of Ralane. Short, loud and charismatic, late 40s. Minor fourth song user related to necromancy and resilience. Helped lead the coup against her father King Volgud with Caulind's aid. Volgud had been delving into fourth song immortality and blood rituals to regain youth and vigor, stopping him before he became a vampire. After that mini civil war, it took a couple of years where she was exiled and had to forment rebellion and collect contacts, she took over and married Caulind who she'd bonded with over the event.
Daughter: Cree Silefui, Human. - Early 20s. Has no time for song shit. Intelligent and driven and purposeful. Only flaw is that she tends to steam roll over people a bit and relies too much on her own capabilities and management skills.
Son: Kash Silefui, Human. - Mid teens. Training to be first song user - divination. Thoughtful and quiet and watchful, willing to assist his sister loyally in her rule and make use of his affinity for divination to help with this.
Dad: King Thatch Silefui of Cestra, Human. - Dead. Banged Astorbain in his very early 20s, was a pretty hot-headed and not the most scholarly king but balanced it with a high emotional intelligence. Had two other sons, Kirk and Thatch. Kirk took over rulership briefly but never had any children. A very serious man with a poor personality. Had no wish for children or a spouse and viewed it as his right to allow himself to be spared such things since his brother Thatch II had a family.
Step-Mom: Queen Cristine Silefui, Human. - Dead. From the queendom of Marre. A quick temper that thankfully chilled just as rapidly as it burst out. A nasty skill at being able to suddenly remember things from decades ago and a sharpness of wit and mind hidden behind a constant easy chattery sociability.
Half-brother: Thatch Silefui, Human. - In his late 60s, royalty of Cestra. Pretty chill dude, minor second song user of air. Used it to be able to fly and shoot super well with archery.
Nephew: King Milo Silefui of Cestra. Early 30s, minorly attuned to fourth song. Something of a warrior-er and combative mind, but more just wished he had an excuse for a good and noble war he could make a legend out of rather than just starting one for war's sake.

Half-sister: Arbrethil Raithahir, Elf. - Never met her.
Mom: Astorbain Raithahir, Elf. - Just the worst. Banged his dad during basically... a party before she was about to get married. Got pregnant, extended her stay, dumped him, went back home. Third song user. Early 100s

Mella Gaetan - First song user - Abjuris specialist, Halfling. Still alive, works as a mentor at the Alma hold of the Bright Tree. Grim, serious, critical of people. A born trouble-shooter.
Varney Dubar - Second song user - Di specialist, Urkadi. Was in mutual love with Rourke. Didn't work out well towards the end. Valued nature and soil, wanted to retire to a farm one day and make statues.
Rourke Boen- Fourth song user - Soul expert. Was a pretty light-hearted guy, or tried to be anyway. Most of his family died from a plague when he was young which left a mark on him. Rourke was corrupted by the Dark Tree organisation, or just by reading lore upon them, Mella and Caulind were never sure. Tried to pull some ritual where he promised to bind Varney's soul into his to become some sort of immortal Rebus. Mella and Caulind were able to work together with Varney to bind him away, although in the process of doing so Varney died, her soul vanishing in the usage of the binding. The result of the mess of a ritual is a dark statue of Rourke screaming as white stone is layered around him, trapping his still, stone body. They're unsure of whether Varney's soul is fused with his in there, if it's what is restraining him or passed on.

Sírclaer - Had him as a cat for a few decades, helped screw a demon out of a deal. Some being of the summer woods. Took away his ability to read as part of the process too and if he gets it back, then the demon can enforce the contract and come gunning for his soul. She herself is normally nice though dangerously capricious, but since she keeps her sphere of interest to a particular set of woods and only seems to be active for half the year, and also is willing to be useful to the Bright Tree organisation and other beings, isn't considered a serious threat overall.

Inventory: An amulet of the Bright Tree.

A quarterstaff hardened by a second song user.

A set of rings on his right hand that open to show engravings of his son and daughter on them, pinky and middle finger. His index finger has the emblem of his royal family. Ring finger is empty.

A set of bracers for arms and legs, gauntlets, a chain shirt and helm. Lighter than they should be. Blue base with gold ornamentation and filigree of leaves over them.

A sewing kit, explorers clothing, a backpack, a dagger, a compass, some maps, a book of words in different tongues and a blank book with a quill and ink.

Other notes

SpoilerShow

Theme playlist
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL...yFfOocWptm

Name stuff
caul n. “great burden, affliction”
caun¹ n. “prince, chief, head”
caun² n. “outcry, clamour”

raitha- v. “to try, strive”

#lost adj. “empty”
linn n. “song, chant” see lind¹
linna- v. “to sing, chant”
linnod n. “type of poem, (lit.) ?seven-chant”
lind¹ n. “song, chant, singing; singer”
#lind² adj. “fair”

în² pron. “his, *reflexive possessive = his own”
ind n. “some particular purpose or intention of an individual; heart”

innas n. “*will”

Silivrenêl
silef n. and adj. “crystal (white)”
silevren adj. “like silef (crystal)” see silivren
silivren adj. “(white) glittering”
êl n. “star”
elanor n. “a golden star-shaped flower, (lit.) sun-star”
†Eledh n. “Elf”
†Elen n. “Elf” see †Eledh
†elen n. “star” see êl

sír n. “*today, this day” sîr n. “river, stream”
laer¹ n. “summer” laer² n. “song”
Caulind

Name: Comète Révolte

Species: Human

Song: Second Song - Pyrokinesis, focused on fireballs/blasts and venting her armor's heat. 

Age: 53.

Origin: Comète was born in Marray in the Empire of Chuandie, growing up in the heart of the city. Her parents were laborers, maybe miners, maybe warehouse workers. Not very rich, but scraped together what they could to get Comète an apprenticeship with a blacksmith.

Home: Comète still lives in Marray, in the armor foundry she owns and operates. It’s a two-story building with the foundry as a side extension, with the first floor having a shopfront window out to the street and armor racks, as well as a kitchen. The second floor has Comète’s office, bedroom, and a balcony overlooking the street. Her apprentices alternate between manning the shopfront and working the forge.

Appearance: Salt and pepper hair held back by a headband, beefy arms, golden eyes, tan, calloused hands, thick apron over work clothes and boots, constantly covered in ash/soot from the forge, has a full facemask for smithwork

Personality: Quiet, caring, stern, doesn’t talk about things she doesn’t know a lot about, prefers to let other people do the talking in general. Despite appearances, it’s possible to annoy her, but she doesn’t usually let things get a rise out of her. She’s fairly neutral in general, preferring to hear all sides or consider all options before making moves unless the answer is obvious, but the obvious answer to her may not line up with the obvious answer to most. She has a unique system of shorthand that is near indecipherable to everyone except her ex-wife and the longer-lasting of her apprentices. She’s not scatterbrained, and she’s not even really that eccentric, but she can seem that way at first glance very easily. She’s just kind of an older lady who has her own way of doing things.

Biography: Comète was not an adventurer until her 30s. She lived as a merchant and craftswoman, first learning to smith from her late teacher as a teen, then opening up her own armor shop in her 20s, then taking on apprentices of her own. Once she thought she could trust her apprentices to run the shop by themselves, she came up with an idea to boost interest in her wares- what she referred to as ‘advertising by example’ or ‘field marketing.’ Essentially, she herself would display the craftsmanship of her armor by wearing it out on adventures, both gaining money through adventuring and making adventurers interested in the product of the shop. This did seem to work, as the people she adventured with would spread word of the durable (and rather stylish) armor their new companion sported. In between ventures, she would return to the shop, draft new armor designs, forge them, and take them out for another test. Over the past 20 or so years, Comète has had multiple apprentices, many of whom went on to continue the work elsewhere in the world.
    In an early adventure, Comète encountered an excitable elven woman named Nanthaliene who took the same job she did, and the two found they worked well together. Shortly after returning to Marray, the two began a relationship that led to a marriage when Comète was 36. Nanthaliene moved in with Comète and went on adventures alongside her. Unfortunately, the two grew apart, and mutually decided to end their fifteen-year marriage about two years ago. 
    These days, Comète is usually found in her shop, the Observatoire Metallique, working on designs and showing her two apprentices how to further their craft. Otherwise, she’s out in the wild, moving far faster than anyone should in a suit of armor that size and saving the world for fun, profit, and free advertising. 

Important Skills: Armorsmithing, Armor Design, Cooking and Baking, Metal Identification, Understanding People Who Talk Very Fast

Important People: 

• Nanthaliene Vaucias: Comète’s ex-wife. An elven woman with extensive non-magical medical knowledge. She is a practicing physician and capable battle medic. Uses very light to no armor. Talks a mile a minute, likes to run circles around people. Loves spending time in nature. Dabbles in Third Song.
  
• Anouk: Goth orc girl and apprentice to Comète (for about six months, rebelling against her parents). Focuses more on design than fabrication. Teen angst, specifically 17-18.
  
• Florian: Headstrong human himbo and apprentice to Comète (for two or three years, was around for Comète's divorce). Focuses more on the forge than on schematics. Early 20s wholesome party boy.
  
• Speckle: A halfling adventurer who went out in a party with Comète and Nanthaliene for many years. First Song user. Wandering scientist. Gets drinks with Comète whenever they’re both in town.
  

Inventory:

• Custom, Personalized Platemail
  
• Massive Gauntlets
  
• Smithing Hammer
  
• Flyers for Business
  
• Design Notepad
  

Name:  Grokzurl Montagnac-Qot (Just Grok for short)

Species: Human

Song: Second song - Shandian (Lightning)(He's not yet aware of his attunement)

Age: 22(?)

Origin:  Born on Alma, his exact origins are unknown. Grok was abandoned as an infant, and picked up by a small band of travelling orcs on the outskirts of the Chunadie Empire, just outside of Montagnac.

Home:  Home is wherever family is. His nomadic tribe is tiny, only a dozen or so orcs, a pair of wood elf twins, and a very tall tsavari fleshshaper. Their band is known for their communal nature; family is a fluid term, and they happily welcome new members who they feel a connection with. Due to their hospitable nature, they tend to connect easily with most people who show them kindness and respect. They travel all across Alma, but tend to stick near a lake or a river. The closest to what they consider their home is the as-yet unsettled area to the north of the Galum-Qot Zirdukate, though they never venture very far from the borders. They often make short trips to the many cities and countries of the planet, often picking up a unique trinket, weapon, souvenir, or recipe for a local specialty. All are capable survivalists, each with their own strengths to keep the tribe safe and comfortable. They're willing to offer services as deckhands as a means of catching a sea vessel to cross the vast oceans, though they tend to avoid travel by sea unless absolutely necessary.

Appearance: Grokzurl is 5'4" tall with a lean, muscular build. Strong for his size, but lithe and agile. He has a narrow jaw, high cheekbones, and a square brow. His eyes are green, and his hair long and brown, often worn in a braid. A few strands always seem to poke out around his face, however. His face bears 3 large parallel scars from the claw of a bear.

Personality: Grok is a friendly sort, always eager to meet new people, or offer to lend a hand to those in need. He wears his heart on his sleeve, often to his own detriment. His family taught him to love openly, and protect the things most important to him. He is fiercely loyal, but often naive and too quick to trust strangers.

He'll defend his values emphatically, to a point that can only be described as reckless. He's easily provoked and has a difficult time turning down a challenge. He's desperate to show his family he can take care of himself, though he often presses the issue farther than he needs to. He'll rush into danger just to prove he can. Grok hates being proven wrong, and will often take matters a touch too far to try and preserve his narrow world-view (even if it's obvious that he's fighting a losing battle).

In his down time, Grokzurl enjoys exploring creative pursuits. He'll often sketch landscapes of the places he's been, and crude maps so that he can always find his favorite spots. He's also something of a poet, though is very slow to share his writing with anyone. He keeps a hand-bound notebook with him always, which serves as both sketchbook and songbook. Many of his artworks inspire verses in the poems he writes, though not every poem is based on a place.

Biography: 

SpoilerShow

Grokzurl remembers nothing of his life before his orc family. Some of his earliest memories are of watching his parents set up camps, forage and hunt for food, or crafting various tools. Whenever they'd find Grok watching, they'd carry him straight home. As the youngest and the smallest in the family, the rest of his band would do their best to keep him far from any potential dangers. He developed a taste for thrills and adventure quite young, always sneaking away to try and find whatever secrets the world might hold. Eager to help his family, he'd often injure himself falling from trees while gathering fruit, tripping over roots in dense forests, even attacked by some small local wildlife for venturing too close to a mother's nest.

Over time his parents slowly began to allow him more freedom, opting to teach him how to do things properly, rather than try to stop him. He suffered far less injury this way, though was often still kept from more demanding tasks. On his 12th birthday he begged for a weapon, and was given a small dagger which he carries to this day. At 15, he wished to learn to fight, to help keep their camp safe. Not wanting to put Grok in harm's way, his family carved him a bow. He wasn't pleased by their obvious sidestepping of his request, but quickly began practising nonetheless. Within months, he was allowed to join their hunts, provided he kept his distance and used his bow. This was enough, for a time. However, it wasn't long before he ventured off on his own, eager to bring home a trophy to prove his worth to his family. He returned after sundown, blood dripping from his face. He'd chosen a bear as his target, and things hadn't gone smoothly.

His parents didn't let him go anywhere on his own for month's after that. He spent much of his time alone and brooding, channelling his frustrations into song while working through the chores he'd been given to keep him at camp. One stormy afternoon, during a particularly spirited verse, lightning struck Grok while he was trying to bring the laundry in from the drying line. Fortunately,  was able to heal him through their fleshshaping, though the scar never faded. Fascinated by the powers the second song could unlock, he began to seek out his tsavari family member, eager to learn the legends and history associated with their magic, even if he could never seem to invoke any powers of his own.

In the years since his accident, Grok's parents have been even more protective of their human son, time alone becoming an increasingly rare occurrence for the boy. It wasn't until he turned 22 that he finally lost his patience with the arrangement, finally gathering the courage to confront his parents about their overprotective nature. After a long argument and a whole lot of tears, an agreement was reached. Grokzurl would strike out on his own, to return to their favorite place, north of the Galum-Qot Zirdukate in 5 years' time. His family made it abundantly clear that he would always be welcome to return early, a fact which put a smile on Grok's face. This place has always been relatively safe, and they assured him that they'd keep close by in the coming years. He doubted he'd return early, but to know he's so loved set the spark in his heart burning even brighter.

The moment he heard whispers of a dragon to be slain, Grokzurl was certain this was how he would earn his stripes.

Important Skills: Life as a nomad has made Grok highly adaptable to all kinds of environments. He's able to gather supplies, build rudimentary shelter, start fires, identify edible plants, and skin/bone/otherwise prepare most common animals to be eaten. He's also a decent hunter, able to move stealthily and is proficient with both a bow and in basic hand-to-hand combat.

Important People:
Rega Galum-Qot (~40), an exuberant Alman orc and one of Grokzurl's adoptive mothers. Heads all hunting expeditions.
Ojak Zaguk-Qot (~42), the stricter of Grok's mothers. Handles much of their groups travel planning and general upkeep of supplies
Zanya Kelani (~50?), a flesh-shaping tsavari from the arcology of Stemspire. Has been a member of Rega & Ojak's travelling group for ~15 years. Notably, the only song user in their travelling band.
Wakar Dogab-Qot (~38) Orc, former craftsman, lifelong friend of Rega + Ojak and helped form their travelling band. Noga's husband + Mag'har's father.
Noga Dogab-Qot (~40) Orc chef, taught Grokzurl and Mag'har to prepare themselves a proper meal while they're out in the world. Wakar's wife and Mag'har's mother. 
Mag'har Dogab-Qot (~20), a younger Alman orc who grew up alongside Grokzurl. Son of Wakar and Noga. Ride or DIE.


Inventory:

The recurve bow that his family carved for him,
his birthday dagger,
basic leather armor,
a pouch of jerky,
a pouch of coin,
his sketch/songbook,
and a simple waterskin.
Grokzurl travels quite light.

It was difficult, but I managed to narrow things down to ten applicants! Congratulations to the following for getting in.

Anomaly - Zaya-Viel Madina
Demonsul - Avag Belzren
livilovey - Comète Révolte
MQuinny1234 - Caulind Raithahir
Pharmacy - Brom Buster Barnaby Brambleberry
ProfessorLizzard - Holek Sniffley
Protoman - Rozenn af Quillard
TohruFhana - Grokzurl Montagnac-Qot
WesternSage - Terzi
Whimbrel - Guillairme

For those who didn't get in, your applications are still 100% valid and the lore you introduced will be included in the game. If I could handle 13 players at once, I would've accepted everybody. Should anybody drop out, you'll be more than welcome to pop in and take their place with your existing application. :)

I'll be updating every day or two until the PM section begins. Have fun! :D

***********************************************************

Marray, Chunadie
Summer, 1479

Nestled in the Toulard river valley some leagues south of the Giant's Tail Mountains, the city of Marray stood as one of the great cities of Chunadie. While a far sight from bustling cosmopolitan Mavillon, Marray still boasted some twenty thousand residents and possessed both a long history and vibrant culture. Called the City of Irises, Marray's proximity to the mountain mines gave it a strong metalworking industry, and its warmer temperatures made it perfect for vineyards.

The city possessed a sturdy set of walls, paved main roads, the mighty Cathedral of Saint Pierre, and a massive palace citadel called the Palais des Iris. From there, the Dukes of Marray had long since governed the area. They were well-known patrons of the arts, and their funding had gradually blanketed the city in Iris-laden gardens and colorful statues.

Soon enough, ten adventurers would be gathering in the Salon de l'acier to meet with Sir Henri. He would be the last to arrive, and had sent his priest ahead to meet with the adventurers. The Salon was a fancy yet not TOO fancy establishment a mile or so from the Cathedral, with fine wooden tables, tasteful live music, high quality wine, and dim-yet-not-too-dim colored lighting. A perfect place for knights, merchants, and their respectable like to gather without spending TOO much money.

Who would be the first to arrive and enjoy an afternoon drink?

Avag Belzren, of course! The ever-eager goblin adventurer was definitely on the scruffy side for this fancy establishment, especially since he was wearing his armour at the moment, but he had a little coin to spare for something on the less-expensive side of the drinks list.

He headed to the bar to grab a drink, before wandering around looking for Sir Henri's priest friend.

Zaya-Viel Madina... had already been here for a while, actually. Arrived an hour ahead of time. She hadn't quite picked up the particulars of this world's clock yet, and she wanted to play it safe. The rather short, golden-orange tsavari sat at a table (hopefully the correct one!), dressed in otherworldly and particularly weathered clothing that didn't fit the rustic decor at all. Open on the table in front of her, next to a mostly-empty glass of wine and a bowl of long-eaten soupe à l'oignon, were no less than three large books. Each looked fairly dense, and two of the three had diagrams of dragons clearly displayed as Zaya glanced between them.

She mumbled to herself in Zrucanese, and paid no mind whatsoever to the rest of the restaurant. This was her chance, and she needed to be ready for anything that might happen over the course of... what, dragon-slaying? Is that really what she was here for? Seemed foolish. Probably a mistake.

Passing Zaya's table, Avag saw the array of books. Intrigued, he poked his head up and spotted the draconic illustrations filling the pages. "Oh, hi!" he said with a sharp-toothed grin. "You here for the dragon thing too? Must be, right?"

Zaya looked up from her books with a start and blinked a couple of times at Avag. She began speaking a language the goblin definitely didn't know, before pausing, rummaging in her coat pocket, and pulling out a small charm. She shook it a few times with an annoyed expression.

"...Okay. Hello? This working? Think it's working. Right, yes. Sorry. Didn't understand you completely. What I get for buying cheap translation charms from some slimy salesman camped right by the landing zone. Something about dragons? You also here for... what's his name, 'Sir Henri'? The thorn knight. He isn't here yet, I think."

A young man dressed in red and yellows bustled in, the glint of a priest's mace catching the light as he shut the door carefully behind himself. In one hand he carried a large rolled up poster--the dimensions appeared to be the same as the woodblock advertisements that had been pasted around the city.

He caught the bartender's attention with a quiet gesture, and spoke to him in low tones about Sir Henri's meal order and when he was expected to arrive.

Guillairme felt that this wasn't exactly his job, but such was life.

"I heard he's coming later," said Avag to Zaya, grinning. "But it's exciting! Seeing a real dragon! Stopping it from terrorizing people! You don't see something like that every day - last thing I had to deal with was giant ants wrecking crop fields." He blinked, then thrust out a hand with redoubled cheeriness. "Avag Belzren! Nice to meet you!"

Zaya gave Avag's hands a look. He could probably see the gears turning in her head as she remembered what a handshake was, made a subtle expression of realization, and gave it an awkward shake. "Giant ants? Gonna have to tell me about that sometime. I'm still new to Alma. Much less space for megafauna back in the arcologies, if they're not pack animals. Dragons, though, are the whole reason I'm here. Long story, but Salin doesn't really have them. ...Except the one, yeah. So I came here, and... what do you know, some guy is hunting one."

She paused for a bit too long. "Oh. Right. Zaya-Viel. Madina."

"Zaya-Viel Madina, got it. Zaya okay? Or do you prefer Madina? Oh!" Avag hopped onto one of the open seats at the table. "The ants! Well, they'd dug an anthill near one of the villages, and they'd found this big barrel of alchemical fire, you see? Don't know where they got it, but they wanted to burn the ants out before they ate everything. But those giant ants can bite right through a person, you know? So they needed help actually using the barrel. Good thing I was there! I can take a beating, haha-" he chuckled, rapping on his armoured chest, "-so I rolled the barrel out there and managed to shove it in the anthill. Then I had to go back and actually light the thing! Really should have thought of that first, but you know, I'd not used alchemical fire before. Anyway, when I was rolling the barrel up, one of them dug right out of the ground-"

This would continue for some time if Zaya didn't feel like interrupting.

Zaya nodded along.

She didn't feel like interrupting.

And then along came Zeus.

I mean, Caulind.

He walked in, staff in hand and blue robes first obvious. Then, the figure and face holding and behind the apparel. This was someone who took the time to value their appearance, without being incredibly garish, at least in their eyes. A golden nose piercing between a smiling face, a properly taken care of but not perfectly trimmed short black beard that more framed the face than grew out wildly. Pond blue eyes took in the room, a twinkle in them that showed in the elf's night blue face as a smile broke out warmly.

Caulind walked more actively into the room, heading towards the bar with a youthful gait and clearly not needing the staff held. That seemed to be the place to be as he looked around, a small sound of jingling as earrings rattled against each other underneath the hood, moving by Guillairme. "I'll take an Elderberry Delight if you've got a bottle, unless you'd recommend a house special." Said with a charming confidence that of course a place like this would have such a drink on tap but just in case.

His hair was partly braided and went down past his shoulders as he got comfy in a seat, inspecting now properly the...Human, Goblin, and Tsavari, delightful. Taking in the mace, axes and books, too, interesting.

Then to not interrupt the Goblin's ramblings, he simply sat down with them, pouring himself a glass from the bottle taken from the bar and acting completely at ease with just sitting in, leaving the bottle near the center of the table.