Unsteady Ground [OOC/planning]

[Reaver]

hehehehe next time I'll have better weapons and you won't have Xier to stop me

[Zender_Solarheart]

Good. Jered wouldn't accept the help of a demon, even if it was offered to him. Also...

"What separates you from me..... Jered? You kill just as ruthlessly as me."

Since Jered can't answer that in-character (since he got...y'know...warped out), I'll provide one here in his place:

"It's simpler than you think. I only slay the enemies that present themselves to me. You, however, kill all in your path - men, women, and children - for sheer amusement."

Of course, he wouldn't have had the energy to say that at the time anyhow, seeing how Raz asked the question just before they both dropped (and after I had made my post ).

[Inferi]

Name: Aliera Vericanias
Age: Unknown, but in the first cycle and looks 17 (see race description for more info)
Gender: Female

Race: Seral’aiense

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

The Seral’aiense are a subterranean race that live in the area below the surface of Autum. While major cities and settlements can be pinpointed, a singular location under which the race lives cannot, for their civilization spreads over, or under, really, the entire world’s crust. While the majority of the race lives under either southern and eastern Autum, there are still a large amount of them under the northern and western sections as well. Cities are located in massive caverns that are usually at least a mile underground, and are connected by a series of tunnels, although the tunnels have been superseded by magical portals ever since they could maintain them. The tunnels are still in travelable condition, as many Seral’aiense prefer to walk between cities, but the majority of travel is done using massive portals.

Few of the topside races have ever seen a Seral’aiense, as the race has attempted to remain isolated from the upper world. This is based on the event that occurred the first time they attempted to make contact, which was a war between them and the human kingdom that they came into contact with. The humans had thought that they were some kind of demonic race, and had attacked them almost immediately. Negotiations had started, but the entire party that had been sent to make contact was killed. Needless to say, this triggered the war. Unfortunately for the humans, the Seral’aiense were more powerful than them, due mostly to their effective use of their main racial characteristic, and so were able to destroy nearly the entire human army before retreating back underground. Since then, a very small number of them have attempted to make contact with surface races, but it usually ends in them either being turned away or attacked.

There are a few things that make the Seral’aiense a unique race. The first, and most major, is the way that they “age”. While a Seral’aiense is born in the same way that a human, elf, or any other warm-blooded animal is born, they do not age in quite the same way. They mature faster than humans, and a typical Seral’aiense can speak coherently at age two and understand typical social situations at age four. Until they are thirteen, they age in the same way as humans, but it is at that point that it starts to change. After they turn thirteen, a Seral’aiense will continue to age until they reach the age that they will remain at for the rest of their existence. This can be anything from thirteen to nineteen, and it varies with each one.

Once they reach that age, they will age in only one way. This is through dying, which is one of the greatest anomalies of their race. A Seral’aiense does not have a set lifespan, and if they do not die they can theoretically live for an infinite amount of time. This has never been proven, however, and many of the race suspect that they have a finite time no matter how long they stave off a death. There are a few that choose to do that, but the majority of the race cannot bear to live for so long. The society itself encourages dangerous magical experiments as one way to deal with this while making life better for the rest of the race, and a large number of Seral’aiense participate in such experiments. They also use these lives to produce an extremely effective military, as they can practice real combat scenarios without having to worry about the individuals involved truly dying.

The amount of times a Seral’aiense can die before they do not return varies, but the normal number is around six. The largest amount documented was twenty-three, while there are always those that die once and do not return. These are freak cases, but they do happen. The transition between lives is not seamless, however, and it is part of the reason that it is considered their aging process. For the first death or two, little changes, but after that their mind starts to become slower although the body will remain the same age, retaining the physical characteristics that it had before. It progresses until they can barely move around anymore, like most old humans, although their immobility is due to a lack of quick information transfer from their mind, and then they will finally die and not come back. The final death does not have to be done like the rest, and can happen in the same way that human “old age” does.

As for the reincarnation process, it is not simply dying and then coming right back to life. The physical body of the Seral’aiense will die, and then the spirit will depart the body, forming a new physical body at a site that had been designated for the reincarnation. As the new body is formed, the old body disintegrates, leaving no trace of it behind. The site is usually chosen beforehand, and is marked by the particular Seral’aiense by means of a magical waypoint. Most of the race use a location like their home for the reincarnation, but those that travel either carry some kind of mark that they can inscribe on something to mark the location or they carry an item that is coded to them and signifies the site. Both have their drawbacks, and so they are both used equally with caution. Many that use the item will find someone they trust and give the item to them, or those with the mark will mark a room in a building that they are staying or an area that has been specifically designed for the reincarnation. Because of this, there is always a back-up site that any Seral’aiense can use by overriding their normal one. This site is the main temple in the capital city of the Seral’aiense civilization, which was the first place a reincarnation took place.

The process is not instantaneous, and it takes some time for the new body to form. That makes them susceptible while it is happening, which is why a safe location is necessary to come back to life. If their spot is not safe, something that they will likely not know until they are killed while regenerating their bodies, then the typical response is to immediately terminate that connection and fall back to the default.

There is one way to tell what phase of their life a Seral’aiense is in, and that is the color of their eyes. Nobody is quite sure why, but every member of the race is born with violet eyes. With each death, the eye color changes, and this is interesting because it is the only physical attribute that does. Because of this, it is used to keep track of the life that each one is on. No new eye colors have appeared in millennia, so the system is almost completely accurate. The colors by death count are:
Birth: Violet
After First Death: Crimson
After Second Death: Orange
After Third Death: Blue
After Fourth Death: Green
After Fifth Death: Hazel
After Sixth Death: Gray
Anything after Sixth: Black
Due to the inability to tell how many lives have passed after the seventh reincarnation, it is up to the individual to tell how old they are if it comes to that. As most don’t make it past seventh, however, it is not generally an issue.

Apart from their age, the general appearance of one of the Seral’aiense is fairly unique. They are something of a cross between a human and an elf when it comes to body structure, although they tend to be more human-like than elfin. That said, it should also be noted that Seral’aiense do not look incredibly human, since, of course, they are not. They are alike in body structure, at least mostly, but apart from that they are not quite so much. Every Seral’aiense has skin of an ebony hue, and by ebony, it means the darkest black possible. The color of a Seral’aiense’s skin is far darker than any that a human would be able to produce. The skin of a Seral’aiense is also stronger than that of a human. It is not armor, nor anywhere near that in toughness, but it can withstand around three times the amount of damage that human skin can withstand before breaking.

The body structure of a Seral’aiense is also unique. It is made out of some kind of material that is not bone. Exactly what the material is has confused quite a few people, especially since it is nearly impossible to get a sample of it for study, due to what happens to a Seral’aiense when they die. The material, while being quite a bit lighter than bone, is also stronger. This is due partially to the need to have a structure that is stronger than the outward appearance and partially due to the residual magic that seeped into the race’s physiology over time. The initial creation of the cave and tunnel system over several centuries also built them into a stronger people than they would have been living on the surface.

An individual of this race is typically slender, usually weighing less than one hundred pounds. They almost never have any defined muscle, and are almost never over five feet six inches tall. While there are exceptions, they are rare. This outward appearance belies their natural strength, and the reduction in weight from their bone structure is significant enough to make them weight a fair amount less than a human at the age they look. Their muscle structure, while not growing in the way that most races would, is still present. It just does not show very much, and although they are not weak they do not have quite as much physical strength as most surface races.

As for hair, it is one of the more eccentric oddities of this race. While the hair of different Seral’aiense can and will be different colors, the colors are never “normal” hair colors. They range from something like gold to a black so dark that it makes the darkest midnight you have ever seen look like a bright evening. While this might possibly be exaggerating a bit, it is pretty much the truth. Seral’aiense hair is always in a color that humans cannot have for a natural hair color. The length is the only thing similar to human hair. The length of hair on any one member of the race can vary from nearly none to hair that reaches down to their feet.

Besides the color of their eyes, the Seral’aiense have vision that is generally best adapted for being underground. Over the years, they have become more accustomed to light due to magical night and day that was created by some of the greatest magical minds several centuries after they retreated underground, making surface travel a possibility without any magical assistance. Well, with little. Travelers to the surface usually carry some form of magical protection that will filter the light, allowing them to become accustomed to it over time. The general shape and angle is approximately the same as an elf.

Seral’aiense culture moves slowly compared to humans, based around the fact that they have a long time to live. Perfection is the main goal of the society, and they believe that it is something that can be achieved with enough time, practice, and effort. At any one time, nearly half of the society is tied up in the pursuits of either magical experimentation and practice or training in the art of combat. Due to their nature, such experiments and training are a lot more deadly than they would be for a race that did not have lives to spare, and over half the time they end with someone getting killed. The good part about their nature is that they can realize what they did wrong and then work to remedy it without having to count on the notes of their deceased predecessor to figure out what went wrong.

That does not mean they are reckless, and are in fact far from it. An experiment that humans might attempt to rush through because they do not have the time to play around might take the Seral’aiense over twice as long to complete as they process everything that they can in order to try and get it right the first time. Time is much less of a constraint, although, like with any sentient creature, this does not stop impulsive individuals from rushing headlong into an experiment to try and beat someone else to get the result. Just because they live for longer than most races does not mean the Seral’aiense are wise and sagely. Just like anyone else, they are susceptible to impulsive behavior. It just doesn’t end as badly for them because they can learn from almost any mistake they make, no matter the consequence.

Magic and martial prowess are equally important to Seral’aiense, and both are practiced equally by a majority of the population. Usually, when a Seral’aiense becomes an adult, which is classified as when they stop aging, they decide what they want to focus in and remain with it until they are satisfied with themselves. While this may sound like an easy way out, the standards of society are much higher than a human society, and so the typical Seral’aiense will not stop their practice unless they feel that they can improve no more. The typical focus is a magical-based combat practice, which is effective due to the innate magical capabilities of the race. They use the combination to make up for in finesse what they cannot achieve in brute force.

Apart from the average Seral’aiense that focuses on a mixed field of study, there are elite groups that focus on a single thing and a single thing alone. These make up the members of the society that occupy positions such as high-end research and military leadership, as well as the Council that makes executive decisions for the civilization.

Of course, not everything in the society is focused around military and magical prowess, and they have all of the elements of a typical society present, like merchants, educational institutes, and anything else that is needed for a successful society. However, even those people have some kind of experience in the military or magical disciplines, which is necessary to understand the way most things in the society operate.

Alignment: +10
S. Essence: 140

Appearance:

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Aliera is a typical example of a Seral’aiense. Her skin is incredibly dark, she is slender, weighs approximately ninety-seven pounds, and she is five feet and five inches tall. She looks as though she is seventeen years old, and her physical features measure up to what a human of that age would have. Although her racial features would play a role in her portrayal to others, Aliera can be considered fairly attractive from the typical human’s standpoint.

Her eyes are violet, indicating that she is still in the first cycle of her life, and contain a measure of inquisitive curiosity that is one of the main reasons she is on the surface to begin with. It is not a naïve curiosity, however, and a strong will can be seen in the background, highlighting an understanding of the world with a fascination to find out more. Her hair follows the Seral’aiense tradition of being an unusual color and is a dark violet, sitting at about three shades darker than the hue of her eyes, and reaches about halfway down her back. It is usually tied back so as not to affect her vision.

The suit of armor that Aliera has is an oddity, even among her people. The suit is a dark off-white color, and includes everything except a helmet. This is by choice, as she has a helmet but usually chooses not to wear it. The armor is actually made out of the same material that Seral-aiense bone is made from, and the armor is a piece that takes a long time to make and requires the bone structure of many Seral’aiense. It comes from their final death, as the body does not vanish then. It is not a desecration of the body, either, and the extraction of the bones is in fact a sacred tradition. The construction of the suit itself takes years, as the bones must first be collected, then shaped, then melded together. The result is a suit of armor that is far lighter than any metal, and although it is weaker, the strength is far above something like leather. It was awarded to her for her accomplishments in the Academy in the capital city.

The suit itself is fashioned like a less bulky version of platemail, though the craftsmanship is much more detailed and intricate. The entire suit is made to fit her body perfectly, so that it is not too tight but so that it does not fall off either. The plate covers her entire upper body and her neck, as well as her arms. The left arm, which is where she wears her gauntlet, is shortened so that the arm comes down to just below the elbow joint. From there, it is seamlessly transitioned into the gauntlet, giving the same protection that a full-arm piece would. Above the arms are a pair of shoulder guards, which also add some protection to the piece covering her neck. The plates that cover her legs were made specially to connect themselves to the upper plate via a magical attraction hookup, effectively making the suit a single-piece set of armor while she is wearing it. They reach all the way down to her ankles, and are covered by a pair of boots made from the same substance.

On both the front and back of the torso plate, there is a symbol inscribed. Those with no knowledge of the Seral’aiense culture will not understand what it stands for, and will dismiss it as simply some kind of emblem, but the truth is that it represents the student that made their way to the top of the martial contest class in the Academy. Well, almost. There is a slight difference between hers and a true “top-of-class” emblem, but it effectively means the same thing. The entire symbol is circles within circles, twisting and contorting so that they form a mesmeric pattern.

Weapons: A scoped repeating crossbow and a pistol for range, and a weaponized gauntlet and shortsword for close-range. The gauntlet is worn on her left forearm and hand, and has a two-inch blade on the outside edge. The blade is made up of two parts. The first is a curved part on the end that extends out past the fingers and curves a quarter of the way around their tips, while the other is a straight blade that makes up the part that is attached to the gauntlet. The blade is mounted parallel to the arm on three metal pieces that allow it to fold onto the gauntlet and back on command, giving Aliera a way to wear the gauntlet without the risk of slicing something every time she moves her arm. On the top side of the fingers, there are uniformly patterned inch-long spikes that will transform a punch into a strike that will make several holes appear in the flesh of the target. The tips of the fingers also have short claw-like attachments on them.

Magic: Time magic. Aliera can speed up her own time in relation everything else, making it appear as though everything around her is moving slower than she is. She can also focus it on an object, such as an arrow, to make its relative time move differently than everything around it.

History: Aliera’s history is fairly standard. She was born in the capital city, her parents both specialists in the field of combat. Both could use magic, but it was not something that they did incredibly often. As such, Aliera was brought up around weapons and learned how to use nearly all of them at a fairly young age. She enrolled at the Academy in the capital when she was able to, which was late for the species, and almost immediately took to combat as her focus. Unlike most, though, her proficiency with time magic gave her a distinct edge over most of those there, and she eventually became one of the better students that was in the class.

The real test came in the traditional tournament that was always held at the end of a class session. Two individuals would face off against each other, and the one still standing at the end would move on to face the next. The fights were usually to the death, although agreements on fighting until surrender were always honored. As participation was mandatory, and some did not wish to lose the life that they were currently on, such things had always been regarded as fair, although they were also considered as cowardly.

By the last round, only Aliera and one other remained, and their battle lasted for a day before they both collapsed, unable to continue. The fight had been to a complete standstill, something that had never happened before, and as such they were both given the option to do it again. Both looked at each other and immediately agreed that there was no point. They were both so evenly matched that it was unnecessary to fight again. This was met by both approval and disapproval, although in the end they were both granted a set of bone armor as recognition of their skill. The small difference in the mark was made so that everyone would know there were two of them that year, and that they were of equal ability. It was not a negative connotation, although some viewed it as such.

Aliera remained in the city for several more years, until she finally grew restless. She had read much about the surface world, and wanted to see if it was the same. That was when she set off for the surface, and she hasn't returned to the underground yet.

[napsii]

wowzers! o.o that is quite the bio...interesting species! of course it is approved... and tada we have another lightsider.

[Noosie]

Name: The Hanged (Not a proper name, but she'll likely acquire one on her way.)

Age: ?

Gender: Female

Race: Revenant: A soul bound to its own body, neither alive nor dead. While not subject to the gradual decay that lesser forms of undead suffer from, a revenant remains clinically dead, barring the use of magic. This comes with all the expected benefits and drawbacks of being undead

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

The pros being as follows; No need to eat, sleep, drink, or breathe, does not rely upon the continued function of vital organs, increased strength and coordination, capable of enduring extreme discomfort, and in conscious control of most bodily functions, able to see clearly in natural darkness, able to speed or slow personal perception of time to a small extent, and immune to most forms of poison, tougher-than-normal skin. The drawbacks; Incapable of healing "naturally", vulnerable to wards against necromancy, discomfort in direct daylight, susceptible to fire, dulled sense of touch, no sense of smell, obviously not alive, unsettling to most animals. The in-between: Incapable of most bodily functions, little to no sense of pain or pleasure, emotionally distant, single-minded. (With permission; Unable to use S.E. for any purpose other than "leveling" but also near impossible to take S.E. from. Additional "needs approval": Upon consuming S.E., life returns to the body for one hour for every ten points.)

Alignment: -10

S. Essence: 1 ( I figure having died drains a bit of essence to fuel re-animating )

Appearance: 5'9, Entirely hairless, ruby red eyes, pale as (un)death, with thin violet lips, a slim athletic build, A-cup breasts, and skin without a single a blemish, but for a dark bruise that encircles the top of her throat. Wears a custom-made suit of thick steel full plate:

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

This armor is made with the undead state of the wearer in mind. The first feature is a large amount of leather padding on the interior, resulting in the wearer's height and girth appearing to be that of a large man (6'4). It lacks the usual The helmet is featureless but for a visor lined with vertical slits, and lacks a mechanism for lifting said visor without removing the helmet entirely. The gauntlets are clearly designed with unarmed combat in mind, with fingers ending in barbed talons and small sharp protrusions jutting outwards from the knuckles. The overly bulky nature of the armor is averted in the case of the gauntlets, which taper down to match more closely the hands of the wearer, allowing for a full range of movement in the fingers. Beyond this, the armor is remarkable for a sheer lack of defining characteristics. It has no crest, no arcane designs laid into it, and not even a hint of coloration other than the natural sheen of rust-resistant steel.

She carries no bags, and wears a pair of comfortable loose leather trousers and a matching vest beneath the armor, along with a suitably intimidating billowing cloak of black silk draped across the metal garment, enchanted to preserve it against the ravages of time and nature alike. This accessory seems to have been designed with villainy in mind, with a low pointed cowl that casts an unusually deep shadow, and two tarnished silver skull-shaped clasps affixing it to the armor's pauldrons. In contrast to this striking set of garments is a stunted and desiccated purple lily resting between the clasps of the cloak and the cloak itself, the only visible dash of color with the exception of the baleful red eyes hidden in the helm.

Weapons: Talon gauntlets, very basic martial arts

Magic: Necromantic prodigy

History: Once, there was a necromancer. Not just any necromancer, but the only necromancer for miles around, and she lived in a cottage in a run-down hamlet. Of course, for the most part, the people of the town were unaware of her profession, and so it was peaceful. The perfect environment for study, really, what with the famine that resulted from a insecticidal spell gone wrong. Whole families, just lying in pits with no one to guard them. And so she did what necromancers tend to do, and experimented with the only things she did not fear the touch of: the dead. While there is quite a bit to tell as to how that phobia came to be, the essentials for this story are already known. A girl, a village, a forbidden obsession. After years of peace during which the girl worked to separate herself from the touch of the living, her activities were discovered. As such, many of her preparations for a life unending were left incomplete; Her armor unfinished, her rituals imperfect, and her skills beyond that art to which she was so devoted were lacking in just about every way. The details of her execution beyond what follows are unimportant as her origins; She was hung from a tree, entombed by the sea, and buried in her readied garments as a favor from the undertaker. Some time has passed since then, and the town is no more, as is the memory of the girl and her dreams. What remains is her body barely animate after centuries of recovery, a fear of being touched, and a hunger for the essence of the still living.

[napsii]

that is quite the bio...you may be psychic as my ambitions for the undead/spirits in the thread lore is similar to what you've got there

the blunt truth: i am not accepting bios and currently have two other people in line to join later on when i am more comfy with writing for this amount of peeps. when the thread settles down i will accept more, so i highly suggest you let this fade from memory and go join some of the other threads around -- they are much more active hehe

all that being said i can see you are a skilled writer, so i will keep you in mind for sure

[Noosie]

Thanks. I'll check back on this one if it's still around in a month or so, but until then, adieu.

[Thaedael]

Name: Amarissa Akuji
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Race: Dark Angel
Alignment: 0
S. Essence: 100

Appearance: -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

For all her faults in her current predicament, she still shows every trait of her mother, exuding an alluring and pretty appearance despite the alterations to her form. Since the start of her journey into the lands of the World of Autumn, she has acquired new belongings that only accentuate how pretty she has actually become, no matter how threatening her powers may be.

She is a lady in her prime, twenty four years old by the Autumn standard of age-keeping, and as such has blossomed into one of note. She has long black hair, a mark of her descent into the ways of a Dark Angel, and as much as it causes her pain to remember it every time she looks into a mirror, she always had an affinity for proper appearances, taking appreciation of the blessing which the Goddess had given her. From her low forehead flows long raven-black hair, her bangs cut properly to follow the curve of her fore-head, before gathering into two long curtains of black hair that dropped down to her high-set cheek bones. From behind her ears the hair grows dramatically longer, reaching down to her waist in elegant braids, each pleat of her hair flowing out down along the center of her un-braided hair, before coming to an end in finely cut points.

From under this hair her face peaks, two amethyst eyes set under long lashes, their color strong enough to be identified as such, but dull enough to give the appearance of not being all there, despite whatever state of mind she may actually posses. Above her long lashes rest the simple crushed minerals and oils, the primitive make up of the locals acting as a simple blue eye shadow from her eyes. Her lips bore but the smallest traces of the same crushed mineral, applied sparingly along their full forms, before fading once more to the porcelain white of her skin and the point of a chin.

The rest of her body has regained much of it's original mass, filling out into a curvy form that she would have though impossible after being in the hands of the abusive demons that had tortured her so. A blessing that whatever foul magics they had used to taint her soul and mind at least gave her the peace of mind of having a body un-scarred and not broken. She had noticeable love handles feeding into thicker thighs, before once more slimming down to the muscular calves. Her arms were noticeably lacking in the muscle department, but were strong enough to wield a sword with some competence.

Upon her chest heaved her breasts, small to any man's liking, but thankfully enough that she herself was comfortable with them. They could have been no larger than a B-cup size, but that did not matter to her, for she had an appreciation of who she was and did not seek reason to change it. Especially with an unwillingness to deal with any sort of a relationship, superficial or not.

She would have otherwise passed for a human, were it not for the two sets of wings, two larger ones with 2 smaller ones bellow. The larger ones were as long as she was tall, the smaller ones as long as her torso was big. They perched from her back, usually furled up and under her clothing. Her form is usually clad in a simple elegant dress, varying in still from place to place she visits as she wanders about, a luxury most would not afford. Her current dress was a long crimson dress, it's furls flowing out from her hips to the ground in several different tiers with gold embroidery. Above this was the built in red bustier, pushing what little of a bust she did have into cups of finely embroidered crimson fabric, before giving way to the skin of her collarbones and neck.

Her feet were clad in thigh high boots, something as comfortable as they were pretty, simple brown leather that was tanned into form before having all the buckles and lacing sewn in appropriately, topped with the fur of some local animal she didn't care to remember.

Around her neck a simple necklace of a butterfly, which mirrored her two head pieces that hung on either side of her head, just behind her ears, both one half a butterfly, cut down the middle in perfect symmetry giving each side one set of the wings.

Familiar - Iyaden "Iya"

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Her familiar is a Splinter Cat. They were first observed by angels long ago, as they were analogous to the role of the path finder, proving later to be the counter-part of their role in the demonic armies of the enemy. They appear as cats, hence the name they were given, being about as big as a feral wolf. Upon their forehead rests three eyes gleaming from the sockets, each sporting a single amethyst eye, the origin of their power. These eyes give them the ability to see along many dimensions, and was the tool that enabled them to find the proper paths through the void, something that Amarissa gives credit to Iyaden for, for her sense of direction was better of that of her own. From this head sprout the other normal features of a cat, long whiskers to which it used for all other feedback through their senses and long pointed ears used to pick up the shifts in the currents of magic within the tunnels. They are covered in long coats of fur, fading from a black core to a slightly purple ended limbs. Each of their limbs were as muscular as they were lithe, giving it the ability to change directions suddenly and strongly, giving them the name of a splinter for how they would break off from each-other in packs. Each of the paws end in wicked razors, deadly sharp fangs that could maim a child, or injure a grown adult. From this core grows a long tail, ending in fluffy manner. They are notorious for murdering their own mothers, and being hostile to all others, but only attacking if provoked.

Her splinter cat Iyaden however, is everything but the normal case-study of it's species. It is notoriously shy, hiding away from others under the folds of her dress, and refuses to be left alone. It also never fights, despite being bullied by anything bigger or smaller than itself. It also continues to keep watch over her master, no matter where they go, staying no further than a few feet at any given time. She has a simple leather collar around her neck, with a stylized silver butterfly upon it, the mark of her master. Upon her tail, hooked into a simple metal loop, is a piercing that holds a small crystal.

Weapons:

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

What use was there for a weapon she had mused to herself on many occasions. In her life-long training in the halls of her now estranged family, she was always taught that if the enemy was able to attack you, it was now over. For after all at that point, many angels would have fallen to protect her and if it came to that she was to use her own magic, until the enemy was either dead or she herself turned to crystal from over-use of her powers. Since becoming a dark angel, she is now stronger than she has ever before been, able to cast the most powerful forms of magic, but finds her concentration wavering and her tolerance to burn out much lower. Begrudgingly she has begun to adapt to the requirements of carrying a weapon and with her own powers she had her own weapon forged.

Her weapon is a sword, a simple fleurette fencing foil It was grown from a crystal she herself found in a cave on her journeys across the world of Autumn. It is a very long, thin, blade, ending in a hilt with many pieces of crystals coming out and around the hilt in the shape of petals in the formation of helices. It is these petals that form the sword guard of the weapon, joining hilt and blade together. It's appearance of fragility is betrayed by it's durable material, designed to deflect weapons and not necessarily kill, though in a one on one fight it could very well serve for that purpose. The blade has no name, and will continue to not have one until the day she is unable to wield it no more, and in death return to the earth with her crystallized form after burning out from magic.

Magic: -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Despite her now altered nature, her mannerisms are very much the same as her upbringing, giving a hint of betrayal to the origins in which she learned magic to those that behold her. Due to her training, she was always taught to understand that every living thing was part of a system, being taught that no matter how small a piece of the whole, it was part of a greater system. She was taught to understand such relations within a system, and the space in between separate systems which gave power to her family's strength in dimensional magic.

She was always a visual child, and as a result of that still casts magic in much the same way. She would close her eyes, seeing in her mind's eye the flow of magic in all living things, the bright colours of the magic burning her retinas in closed lids as she understood the essence of the world around her. From these things she would pull at their energies, teasing out the streams of the magic into forms as if fromt the very air herself; the runes and symbols of her spell glowing into the material world as she continued to weave it around her in concentric circles and spirals until the spell was completed.

It is with her upbringing that she is able to use the magic of light, and with her fall the magic of the dark forces. She is able to use most magic due to the way she pulls it out of the living creatures, and while she can use most elements and derivatives there-of, she is by no means a master or disciple of them, her own specialities being much stronger. She is also privy to the entirety of the spell that is the world gate, but cannot wield it alone, and probably will never again at the side of her family.

History:
Part 1 of 3; What it means to be a pathfinder

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For mere mortals the concept of an angel being something near mortal in how it enters the world is beyond most expectations. Yet like all living things for which the angels have an affinity with, they are born into the world, into a family of two; a mother and a father. Like all angels, their role was that of becoming the guardians of all living creatures in their realm, big and small, and it was with open arms and happy hearts that Amarissa would be born into the Ashling Family Name. There is much that is hidden to those that the angels openly protect; the state of the Goddess who had created the first of the angels, the council of archangels that continue to direct the efforts of their kind
through a delegation of duties and obligations. As with any real society, the families that grew large and powerful were also present, and in the case of Amarissa, her family was large enough to have been considered a minor family.

The Ashling family was a branch of a larger family, even though it was not recognized by most of the realms in which angels walk, for it had always been taboo to talk of them. As such there was a stigma that surrounded them, slowly isolating them over the centuries from those that would have otherwise openly praised them for what they did, or welcome them as brethren for which they were. They were a special breed of angel, if such a thing were even conceivable to those that have known angels, or those that had much knowledge of what the family did. For it was decided long ago by the council that the existence of the families specialty be kept secret.

The family was, for all intents and purposes, the path-finding arm of the council, and as an extension, the pathfinders to all the armies of the angels in times of war. For the realms where angels roam freely is separate of the world of Autumn, or the worlds of the demons, or all the countless worlds upon which wars have been waged in the name of the goddess. It is because of this that the skills of the family were needed, and in return the family's bitter obligation to the council. For every man, woman, and child, would continue to have the education and training in the skills of a pathfinder.

To be a pathfinder is to have spent many years understanding the very nature of magic. To be a pathfinder was to walk the path of enlightenment, not just of the world around them, and the winds of magic upon which they worked, but of one's self, and the very nature of their will. For the way to cast magic is to understand everything that ever has or ever will be within the chosen form of magic. In this case it was the very realms themselves, to understand it's entirety in whole, from every living creature, to the space in between. This leads to the understanding of the flows of the realm, and as a result can extend to the understanding of the spaces between the different worlds, and here-in lies the true strength of the Ashling family.

For as long as the Goddess has lived there was always the need of being able to move between the worlds. The void between the worlds was all consuming, things that entered were forever lost, consumed into nothingness. Some speculated that the void was a realm of it's own, something larger, and potentially alive. For whether this is true or not, the fact that it was a realm on it's own is a fact very well known to the scholars within the family that continue to direct the efforts of the family, for it is this organic nature upon which the energies of the bridges between worlds open and close, forever entrancing in their dance across the worlds in fleeting expressions of existence. This was
what it meant to be a pathfinder, for it is the duty of all the family members to direct the others across the immaterial of the void, to safely guide their passage in the ever changing landscape of the paths between worlds.

Yet to think that this is all the Ashling family is capable of is to be arrogant and naive, for they are also wielders of the most powerful of magics. It is an extension of the will of the Goddess herself, the family, and of all angels that guide the final form of their true mastery of the void. The world's gate spell. While it is not for any mere angel to wield alone, the might of the elders of the family can be brought forward to direct as many of their kin within the family as needed to weave the very spells that would tie together the fabrics of two opposing worlds, forming their own artificial gate. For after all, since the early ages of the angels, it was always a perceived need that the ability to mobilize across the void would be necessary, and necessary it has been over the long span of conflict between the agents of the light and shadow.

However this form of dimensional magic is very rare, and has been used but only a handful of times over the long course of the existence of the angels. It is only in the most dire of times, when nearly the whole of the family gather, and the elders direct the full magical might of the family, that such a spell can be weaved. It is because of the place every member of the family has in the spell, as well as the knowledge of that specific part of the spell that the family is taboo, doomed into a thankless obscurity that was necessary to protect them individually and as a whole.

This is what it meant to be an Ashling. To have been born into the discipline of a strong will, a strong scholarly background, and utmost a sense of unity and duty. It means spending countless life times learning, understanding, and coming to terms with the world around them. It means studying the smallest part of a world, no matter how small, to understanding the bigger picture to which it was a part of, no matter how large. It was to live the life of magic, and to appreciate all that was in between. All this, is what it meant to be Amarissa Ashling, who was born into the small family of one thousand members, the first girl born into the 18th generation of the family.

Part 2 of 3; The void between worlds and the void in one's heart.

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She was, for all intents and purposes, her mother's child. She was as beautiful as she was sincere, as smart as she was well-spoken, and as powerful of a magic user as any. All the traits that belonged to her mother by any account of her family. However her father also manifested his genes through her, her willingness to learn and understand the world around her, her near infinite patience for all that was to be taught, and most importantly of all her ability to love. She was no younger than 18 years old when she finally left the magnificent library of knowledge, the halls of study of her magic classes, the gardens of wisdom in her quarters that provided the center for all self-reflection, all areas that were part of the large estate of the family.

She was an accomplished spell-caster, and an exceptional pathfinder by any merit, able to sense when and where the next dimensional shift would manifest itself. She was one with the flows of magic that blew through every and all worlds she had ever been on, feeling at ease no matter the place, her mind's eye feeling and seeing the magic manifest itself in all beings of the world. With the closing of her eye she would see the glows of the different magic, the pulse of it's energy flowing through the living creatures, her mind's eye grabbing at one of the strands and pulling it out, weaving it into the spells. As if from the air itself, the glowing runes of her spells would begin to manifest around her as she would weave the magic in and around her in concentric rings of glowing texts and images, her magic as symbolic as it was potent.

It was because of this talent she excelled as a pathfinder, and it was for this reason on the eve of the biggest battle on a far flung ice world against the forces of the shadow she was made a part of the Ashling war-host. They were tasked with simply maintaining the world's gate spell, opening the path of retreat from the overwhelming numbers of demons that had swarmed the far flung world, the very ice tainted red in blood as the minions of the shadow gorged on their spiritual essence. The angels have fought dear, but to preserver their numbers and fight for another day, she, along with nearly every member of the family was tasked with keeping the door gateway open.

It was a brutal fight, and many had fallen, but many more in the early hours of an icy morning had managed to escape. The Ashling war-host was all but spent in magic, their numbers succumbing to the brutal feedback of the over-extended use of magic, their forms crystallizing where they stood as the last of the armed angels begun to pull out. It was with her mother and father on the collapsing front line that she begun to run towards the portal, the spell having finally been broken and the void gate collapsing in on itself that she made her way with the remnants of the last of the rear-guard, leaving behind the angel shaped crystals that littered the battle field.

Yet all was not to go in their favor, as catastrophically as it was sudden, the gate collapsed upon itself, catching those who were making the crossing in it's sudden wake, and drawing in those from the portal that was quickly vanishing from the surface of the icy planet. As hope begun to fade, she herself was captured, the forces of the shadows curious with their ways of manipulating magic.

Thus begun the descent down the long path of corrupting an angel. She was kept in a keep on the highest of mountains on the icy world, her body held down on all limbs by the heavy set clasps of demon forged shackles, their embrace hot and unsettling, resistant to magic and grounding any magic which she managed to gather down through her feet into the ground, effectively rendering her useless and exposed, fragile and feeling very mortal. They would come in the morning, beating her with every possible body part imaginable, hitting her in her face and body, trying to bend her mind and will to that of their own. In the afternoon the torturer would come, wicked tools of his trade carving their form into her body, for demons can stoop so low in the unholy art of confessors. She was as stubborn as her father, but a body of a woman so fragile from the lack nourishment and abuse, she begun to cave in explaining the spell that her family had perfected over the centuries. Knowing that she was of little use for the world's gate, and that they would never truly be able to replicate it, they executed those that were deemed unfit for duty, relegating her daily regime of torture and abuse into the comfort battalions of the fortresses' master.

She would continue to be abused, this time sexually, her form ravaged and bruised, her once proud white hair fading to murkier colors, blood, dirty, and other foul excretions and oils gathering in it. Her eyes begin to grow dim, the blue of her iris fading as she continued to break, mentally and physically, her training in the way of magic making every experience much more traumatic than it would have otherwise been. The lords of the citadel made breakthroughs in their research into the angel's ways, the spells that could open any world to the brutalities of a full blown demon invasion, and it was for this reason the most unfortunate of events continued to unfold. For it was one night, in the middle of a brutal gang rape, that the last of the breath of life that the Goddess herself had breathed into her was exhaled, her form growing cold and limp as the soul attempted its journey back to the realm of the angels.

The daemonic lord, furious as he was, did not want to let a sexual slave as pretty as her, and her repository of knowledge on magic and all things living, disappear into obscurity. He decided to attempt the dark arts of revival. With the remaining members of her family in captivity executed, their blood painting the runes of a spell long since forbidden to the angels, they begun to prepare the rites of Resurrection. After-all, in her last days of life, her hair had grown black, her eyes shifting from a blue to a dark purple, and her two sets of wings as black as the night, all signs of a corrupted angel, one that could be used for knowledge.

Some of the demon kind did not like this idea, fearing for the uncontrollable natures that the Dark Angels tended to portray, their indomitable wills and immunity to most forms of magic, as well as their transcended ascension into magic unattainable to most. This on top of her natural understanding of magic. Demons are a strange ilk, coming together by mutual greed, and bound together in bonds through fear and strength of the one who wielded the war-hosts of their kind. Yet they are also fickle creatures, furthering their own agendas.

On the eve of the Resurrection, with a spell that was hard enough to complete if done properly, a splinter faction that formed within the daemonic citadel had worked against it to sabotage it. This single act, combined with all the events leading up to it, as well as the origin of the girl, lead to the perfect storm. Symbols were partially altered, chanting mistimed, all in an attempt to usurp the power of the daemonic lord. With eye-lids fluttering open, and a spark of something otherworldly, the dark-angel awoke, sentient, enraged, and most of all, with a will more powerful than ever before.

Her body was unmarred, the bruising disappearing to the porcelain skin of her body, the wounds and scars disappearing. As if with the sun setting itself, the light in the room continued to grow dimmer, her hair fading into the darkness of the room, 4 wings unfurling out with raven feathers. Around her the text begun to swirl, the residual spiritual essence of her comrades leaking from the bodies in globules before taking place in the revolution of symbols and runes around her as she begun to cast spells. It was on this evening, four years after her capture, that she had awoken, a tainted soul that retained her personality but through different manifestations. It was a unsuccessful Resurrection, the most ill-fortuned result manifesting in the form of a fallen angel with expanded capacity.

With one eye streaming tears of blood, she razed the place, murdering as many of the daemonic ilk as she could. She was corrupted, tainted, and un-able to return home. On the icy morning on a planet she did not know, she found the familiar pull of a natural gate, its fickle nature indicating that it will be open a few hours more, and walked into it, her journey that would ultimately lead her to the latest of battle-fields, that of the world of Autumn.

Part 3 of 3; Current

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Rawr rawr rawr, its hard writing a lot like inferi

[Thaedael]

God Fucking Damnit. I had two windows open, and I didn't notice. I wrote up all the last of the stuff hit post. Then I closed the window, then I wanted to edit something and the other window was open to an edit window already, so I went to type in that and then hit enter. I lost all the other stuff I have been working on and now need to rewrite appearance, familiar, weapons, magic, and part 3 all over again. T^T

[RavenLord]

Wait, Napsii, are you accepting new entries?

[napsii]

i can't even accept anymore people for like ever

thae is putting up his bio ahead of time but i can't do anything for him until the current players are under control.