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Well hey there!
I'm likely to add to this ongoing list of characters, but I thought this first sample is a good set to demonstrate some of the flavors I like to write. It was fun to put this together.
What about Romance?
Romance can be a great way to explore a relationship or to develop a story/character, but you should know before getting too excited that romances will always a b plot to me. It can be super fun to write a little romantic side-thread or relationship development thread - but I'm an action/adventure with a little spice on the side kinda girly. Not a romance as the centerpiece of the story, girly. So not opposed to it, not pursuing it. Also, please note my allegiance is always to the story and to how my characters will behave, and if a ship requires me to change anything in a character's base behavior (like making Vera evil, for example, or asking Cael to fall in love with a woman) the answer's gonna be a hard no. And, also due to some past experiences, I'm removing romance from the table altogether with a few characters - because the kind of romance that would make sense is not one I'm comfortable RPing at this time.
That said, I have included a little romance section beneath each profile - to make the boundaries for the character clear in case a natural romance develops.
Sorry if that's a little harsh/rains a little on parades. Just something I wanna have clear from the get-go so no misunderstandings happen!
What about Sex?
I'm not interested in exclusively smut or spending an entire thread just on sex. If two characters start getting hot and heavy, we can have a conversation about comfort levels and at what point we fade to black.
So these aren't your only characters?
I have so many characters. So many. Eventually they'll make their way here. But it's gonna take some time.
Are you only going to exclusively RP with existing characters?
God no - I'm so happy to make a new character if a story or concept is compelling! This is more just a guide to get an idea of what kind of stories I like to write.
Cool pics bro!
Gee thanks - they're not mine. They're all AI and created with MidJourney. I take zero credit outside of plugging in some pretty words to get a close approximation of how I picture these weirdoes in my head.
FLEXIBILITY: I'd say Cael fits well into any stories that require a guide, a guardian, or a gentle but eccentric scholar. He's no fool, but he's no great genius either. He is endlessly charming and always the gentlemen. I'm willing to rework backstory and goals to fit a different style of fantasy (he'd work well in the Wizarding World, LOTR and Forgotten Realms with some mild tweaks). He'd even work well in a lower magic setting, however it's essential to note that magic is central to his characterization.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Action, Political Intrigue, Horror
OG STORY: Demons are the least powerful magic users - and thus Savros' abilities are based in illusion, memory and feeling. He feeds off of the negative emotions in others, and loves prodding and poking the hearts of his victims. Savros also loves a good challenge. His goal is to reshape the world - so that Demons are no longer on the bottom of the totem pole. Plots on plots on plots, folks.
FLEXIBILITY: Savros works best in stories that need an unpredictable antagonist or at the very least a shit-stirrer. He's quite clever, and sarcastic, and loves to play with his food. His backstory and goals are harder to reshape - if you are looking for a character like Savros for a story, but don't want him to be a demon, it'd be better to discuss making a new character altogether.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Any
ROMANCE: ZERO interest in Romance Plotlines for this character at this time. Way more interested in him being played as a vaillain.
OG STORY: Mel Zara Sin Nombre was abandoned in a coastal village deep within the Deadlands - an area largely disregarded by the world due to the complete lack of magic. A sickly child, it was quickly apparent to her adoptive mother, Aurora, that she was cursed. The sun was harsh on her pallid skin, and any food outside of flesh, organ, and blood of animals made her violently ill. As such, Sin was a quiet and calculating girl up until her 17th birthday, when it was revealed to her that the curse she had lived with throughout her life was not a curse at all. She was simply Shadow-touched - and as such required the essence, or magical power, of other creatures to sustain herself. The shadow ought to have consumed her mind, but instead it consumed her body. So, once she began ingesting the life forces of creatures (small animals at first) - she began to strengthen. Her hunger pangs vanished. A new hunger grew within her - a hunger for understanding.
She traveled with her newly found Mentor, Cael to Red Canyon - where they were attacked by a militant group of Shadow-Touched hunters calling themselves "The Knights of Serenity". In the fray, Sin accidentally killed dozens in her attempt to wield the Shadow - and lost consciousness in the process. She awoke, moments later, thousands of miles away in the city of Elaria, where she began witnessing the oppression of Shadow-touched for the nature of their magic and existence. In a city churning with magic, Sin waited and grew stronger and stronger, unaware that she was on a path to fulfill a prophecy written long before she was born.
FLEXIBILITY: Sin's got two stages that she can be written in. One is her as a teenager, she's very skinny, sickly, and in constant pain. Kind of a bummer to be around - but not yet wielding any kind of magic. In her second stage of power, she is a lot more firm and intense. I can't think of a way to play this non-magical character. Could maybe do something in a low-magic setting with her being a teenager with a mysterious illness, and rework it so it's based more in a tangible reality - that does lock us into playing her as a teenager. I could see her story being adjusted for other fantasy scenarios - vampirism might work for her for example. But her story is intrinsically to some kind of dark magic.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Adventure, Hero's Journey (could be an escort story if we want it to take place in the world of the Dead Lands), Sin also works for a gang-of-misfit heroes scenario.
OG STORY: Vera Nithali is a young wood elf on a mission: catalogue every monster and creature she can learn about. She's wide-eyed, warm, rambunctious and endlessly kind. Bold and confident, she's not afraid to stand up for what she believes to be the right thing to do. A bit awkward, but heart heart makes up for it. She's always looking to make a new friend. She usually carries an axe, a net, and a collections of tools and weapons that make monster hunting easy and fun.
FLEXIBILITY: Story need a monster hunter? She's in. Story need a ranger to guide them through a dark and dangerous forest? She's in. As long as Vera can remain an elf, and it makes sense for a ranger to appear in the story, she'll be there.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Adventure, Coming of Age themes
OG STORY: Evaraine works for the Bureau of Magical Investigation in Elaria - in the Shadow Magic Regulation division. Evaraine is fey-touched, which means she is technically a creature of light. Theorhetically, she should be able to wield light magic with ease. However, the physical consequences of attempting to use light magic are so severe for her - that she is essentially without magical ability. These consequences manifest as tears in her flesh - their length and depth dependent on the nature and strength of the magic she tried to catch. As such networks of scars cover every inch of her body. Despite her inability to wield magic, she is every bit the gum-shoe, never satisfied with half-truths. The fact that she is a fey-touched and is as comfortable with shadow-touched and shadow-born creatures such as vampires and demons has given her a good reputation among the Elarian slums, where shadow-touched are forced to reside.
FLEXIBILITY: I'm very willing to tweak Evarine's magical background to fit into a story that requires any kind of investigative character. She's one of my oldest characters and getting into her headspace is like putting on a comfortable shoe. She might be a guard in a low-fantasy setting. Or a reporter in a setting based in the real-world.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Thriller, crime, political thriller, anything fantasy or fiction that requires a little grit
HISTORICAL/REALISM/FLEXIBLEFANTASY
OG STORY: Loralai Falco is an uptight, organized, straight-headed-on-her-shoulders wizard who by all appearances, seems perfectly respectable. She was a healer first, and a hedge witch - but after some challenging events, she began to study wizardry. She dresses well. She takes care of her things. She has plans on plans. However…Loralai has a secret. Loralai's a necromancer, attempting to perfect resurrection without the input of gods - using medicine and magic in tandem. Her reasoning is her greatest secret. She will do whatever it takes to achieve her goal.
FLEXIBILITY: Loralai's story IS who she is. It will be very difficult to separate her characterization from her motivation. She can work very well in a low magic setting - or in a realism setting where alchemy is actively being researched. She will always, always, always be obsessed with reversing death. This is non-negotiable for her character, and as such the story must somehow be a step toward her completing that goal. That said - it could be exploring a tomb, investigating a string of mysterious deaths, delving into the secrets of a more powerful wizard.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Horror, Adventure
OG STORY: Colette is the noble daughter of a powerful wizard in the city state of Rivast. After her mother died, Colette became quite the rebellious spirit. By her late teenage years, she had evolved past handful and become a full-on menace. Rivast is a city state built on magic and the trade of magical items, and is split into two main areas - the North where Collette is from, where the Senate holds its sessions, where the great wizarding school of Rivast is located, and where all the wealthy live their comfortable lives, and the South - where the poor and down-trodden live in gutters and work to ship out those magical artifacts, positions and expensive wines that keep the wealthy wealthy.
Personality wise, Colette is a little flirt. She loves flitting about, batting her eyelashes, and causing a scandal. Nothing in this world brings her greater joy than teasing the men and women about her.
Weapons are the classic d&d style bard combo, a viola and a rapier.
FLEXIBILITY: There are several points in Collete's story we can play with. Prior to her marriage to a handsome upstart Nobleman - at which point she is just a rambunctious young woman planning for her wedding day, after she's married the man and has children, and has begun actively working to undermine her husband's political career - and after she is nearly killed and exiled from Rivast, swearing to have her revenge. If we do the former, I'd prefer to have the RP take place in the world of Rivast - which I can give you information on. If it's the latter - she can fit snugly into any fantasy setting - low or otherwise. The magical aspects of her background can be tweaked. The political aspects are essential to her character - though for a realistic or historical setting, Louis XVI's reign just before the revolution is most apt. She was originally crafted for Curse of Strahd - and so she also works in high fantasy settings where a bard's magic can come into play.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Fantasy adventure, political intrigue, Strahd-esque horror or vampire stories could work for her too
OG STORY: Isana Von Durnburg is a drunk, a scoundrel, and was once an officer in the army. Which army? Well, she was a d&d character originally and I can't remember. She's sailed, fought, and is a swashbuckling rapscallion through-and-through. Depending on which version of her works, she might be seeking revenge, or she might be running from shame. What remains the same is that she's going to cause trouble wherever she goes. Regardless of which - it's key to understand that her pain stems from the loss of friends on the battlefield - originally to a Black Dragon. As such, she's terrified of dragons. Her preferred weapons are a rapier-pistol combo.
FLEXIBILITY: This character's backstory is not very flushed out. Which in turn makes her very flexible. In a realistic historical setting I could easily see Isana dressing as a man and working well among a band of pirates or bandits. In a historically appreciative setting (i.e. we're playing with aesthetics but it's not necessarily realistic) she'd work well as a captain of a ship or a land-locked mercenary troop. Pretty much - if you have a story where a weird alcoholic and chronically depressed ex-soldier/sailor fits, Isana will do well.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Fantasy adventure, historical fiction, general adventure stories, pirates - really anything
CYBER PUNK
OG STORY: Liv had it all. A comfy corpo gig, money, bitches - you name it. Then it fuckin' happened. She got duped. After they cybernetically enhanced her to the point of needing a constant flow of drugs pumping through her system to prevent full cyber-psychosis, Liv had everything taken from her. Why? Wrong day, wrong job - she fucked it. Lucky then, that she found some old friends who got her access to those same drugs on the street - in exchange for her beating the shit out of their enemies. Her preferred weapon is a bat - or any blunt object at her disposal really. She takes great satisfaction in watching her enemies brains spill out across the floor.
FLEXIBILITY: Liv is locked to the cyberpunk crime genre. Any stories that fall within that will work for her - but she's a gangster and power-hungry and wants nothing more than to clamber back up the corpo ladder to sink her teeth into power once more.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Crime, Heists - that sort of thing.
Thanks for reading!
I'm likely to add to this ongoing list of characters, but I thought this first sample is a good set to demonstrate some of the flavors I like to write. It was fun to put this together.
What about Romance?
Romance can be a great way to explore a relationship or to develop a story/character, but you should know before getting too excited that romances will always a b plot to me. It can be super fun to write a little romantic side-thread or relationship development thread - but I'm an action/adventure with a little spice on the side kinda girly. Not a romance as the centerpiece of the story, girly. So not opposed to it, not pursuing it. Also, please note my allegiance is always to the story and to how my characters will behave, and if a ship requires me to change anything in a character's base behavior (like making Vera evil, for example, or asking Cael to fall in love with a woman) the answer's gonna be a hard no. And, also due to some past experiences, I'm removing romance from the table altogether with a few characters - because the kind of romance that would make sense is not one I'm comfortable RPing at this time.
That said, I have included a little romance section beneath each profile - to make the boundaries for the character clear in case a natural romance develops.
Sorry if that's a little harsh/rains a little on parades. Just something I wanna have clear from the get-go so no misunderstandings happen!
What about Sex?
I'm not interested in exclusively smut or spending an entire thread just on sex. If two characters start getting hot and heavy, we can have a conversation about comfort levels and at what point we fade to black.
So these aren't your only characters?
I have so many characters. So many. Eventually they'll make their way here. But it's gonna take some time.
Are you only going to exclusively RP with existing characters?
God no - I'm so happy to make a new character if a story or concept is compelling! This is more just a guide to get an idea of what kind of stories I like to write.
Cool pics bro!
Gee thanks - they're not mine. They're all AI and created with MidJourney. I take zero credit outside of plugging in some pretty words to get a close approximation of how I picture these weirdoes in my head.
FANTASY
OG STORY: Once a high elf of the highest light, Cael discovered during the great war that Dark Magic is actually a lot more effective for ending wars. Unfortunately, as light creatures are not made to channel dark magic, he's lost some of his faculties. His goal is to clear the many prejudices creatures who are born of or practice dark magic face - as he is one of the few Light users to channel dark magic and survive.
FLEXIBILITY: I'd say Cael fits well into any stories that require a guide, a guardian, or a gentle but eccentric scholar. He's no fool, but he's no great genius either. He is endlessly charming and always the gentlemen. I'm willing to rework backstory and goals to fit a different style of fantasy (he'd work well in the Wizarding World, LOTR and Forgotten Realms with some mild tweaks). He'd even work well in a lower magic setting, however it's essential to note that magic is central to his characterization.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Action, Political Intrigue, Horror
Cael froze.
It was odd wasn't it?
Wasn't it?
Yes it was.
Hard to tell. One of his slippery days. His mind was filled with mud and ideas were not as they ought to be. But it was odd. Because she seemed important. The child in her white wrap and with her dark grey skin - the muted color apparent even in the dim firelight of the strange wooden structure he'd been carried into. A skeletal wraith in a room full of humans. A bony face that ought to be oval-shaped.
She MUST be it.
The reason he had come.
And yet…doubt.
Perhaps it was the dull throbbing in his side - or the fog in his mind, or the memory of the Knights who'd chased him here. He did not want it to be a child. He did not want the reason to be a skinny frightened girl. But the shadow whispered, yes, it whispered. It resonated with the child. Could sense it in her - itself. And it told him - speak to her - talk to the child, discover her secret. She was the right age. The right build. She was the child - that lank dark hair, those strange colorless eyes - the Shadow was so strong within her that there could be no doubt.
And yet…doubt.
He remembered where he was - that was why the doubt. They'd called this "the council chambers" - but with its slightly recessed center and colorfully painted murals on the walls and ceilings it felt more like a temple to him. Then thre were the local humans tending the stab in his side, exchanging anxious looks, pressing him with warm questions - small town folk. The kind so removed from the danger of the world that they didn't recognize it when it strode in.
But there was a woman too - older, arms folded, eyes narrowed and she spoke then to the too-thin teenager.
"Leave, girl." She said - but she used some old world language that he barely recognized. It slid through the shadow in his mind and came back in the common tongue. And he offered what he hoped was a warm and understanding smile.
"There's no need -"
And the girl's arms were folded and she was scowling at the older woman. She spoke in the common tongue, and there was a bite so fierce to her words that even he wanted to recoil.
"I'm grown, Aurora."
"MelZara Sin Nombre if you don't get out of here-" But he could hear it - could sense it. There was no real menace or threat behind the words. Yet many in the room - especially those younger shifted uncomfortably. The two stared one another down, then the younger clutched her side in sudden pain.
And the doubt was erased. For he knew then, his mind sharp, his senses on fire. The girl was Shadow-starved. Whatever her magic bid her consume - flesh, feeling, blood - it was not being consumed. And yet her mind was in tact, while her body wasted away. And yes she was the reason he was here, and yes whatever grand destiny this "Deccar" fellow had set out for him involved her and YES he must find a way to discover her preferred substance.
"No - stop!"
He blinked as he felt a hand on his arm and a spinning in his head. He wasn't sure when or precisely why, but he'd stood. An older man with dark skin and a nervous expression had pressed his hand to Cael's stomach - and Cael realized it was likey an effort to stop him from ripping the very stitches he'd just received. There was a blinding uncomfortable light from above - followed by a door slamming - and he realized that someone had left.
The shadow fell silent in his mind, and he sat with a frown.
Something had seemed so very important just moments before.
Well - nevermind.
Exhaustion had suddenly worked its way into his body, and soon he was laying down - staring up at the wooden ceiling above and admiring the colorful murals that had been painted there. They depicted the war. An idealized version of it - one where the Shadow's stand against Chaos had been notably removed. A bitter smile crossed his face - and he opened his mouth to say something about how short the memories of humans could be…but already his eyes were fluttering shut. The strange tea Aurora had given him was working its way through his veins and he was adrift in an endless sea of sleep.
It was odd wasn't it?
Wasn't it?
Yes it was.
Hard to tell. One of his slippery days. His mind was filled with mud and ideas were not as they ought to be. But it was odd. Because she seemed important. The child in her white wrap and with her dark grey skin - the muted color apparent even in the dim firelight of the strange wooden structure he'd been carried into. A skeletal wraith in a room full of humans. A bony face that ought to be oval-shaped.
She MUST be it.
The reason he had come.
And yet…doubt.
Perhaps it was the dull throbbing in his side - or the fog in his mind, or the memory of the Knights who'd chased him here. He did not want it to be a child. He did not want the reason to be a skinny frightened girl. But the shadow whispered, yes, it whispered. It resonated with the child. Could sense it in her - itself. And it told him - speak to her - talk to the child, discover her secret. She was the right age. The right build. She was the child - that lank dark hair, those strange colorless eyes - the Shadow was so strong within her that there could be no doubt.
And yet…doubt.
He remembered where he was - that was why the doubt. They'd called this "the council chambers" - but with its slightly recessed center and colorfully painted murals on the walls and ceilings it felt more like a temple to him. Then thre were the local humans tending the stab in his side, exchanging anxious looks, pressing him with warm questions - small town folk. The kind so removed from the danger of the world that they didn't recognize it when it strode in.
But there was a woman too - older, arms folded, eyes narrowed and she spoke then to the too-thin teenager.
"Leave, girl." She said - but she used some old world language that he barely recognized. It slid through the shadow in his mind and came back in the common tongue. And he offered what he hoped was a warm and understanding smile.
"There's no need -"
And the girl's arms were folded and she was scowling at the older woman. She spoke in the common tongue, and there was a bite so fierce to her words that even he wanted to recoil.
"I'm grown, Aurora."
"MelZara Sin Nombre if you don't get out of here-" But he could hear it - could sense it. There was no real menace or threat behind the words. Yet many in the room - especially those younger shifted uncomfortably. The two stared one another down, then the younger clutched her side in sudden pain.
And the doubt was erased. For he knew then, his mind sharp, his senses on fire. The girl was Shadow-starved. Whatever her magic bid her consume - flesh, feeling, blood - it was not being consumed. And yet her mind was in tact, while her body wasted away. And yes she was the reason he was here, and yes whatever grand destiny this "Deccar" fellow had set out for him involved her and YES he must find a way to discover her preferred substance.
"No - stop!"
He blinked as he felt a hand on his arm and a spinning in his head. He wasn't sure when or precisely why, but he'd stood. An older man with dark skin and a nervous expression had pressed his hand to Cael's stomach - and Cael realized it was likey an effort to stop him from ripping the very stitches he'd just received. There was a blinding uncomfortable light from above - followed by a door slamming - and he realized that someone had left.
The shadow fell silent in his mind, and he sat with a frown.
Something had seemed so very important just moments before.
Well - nevermind.
Exhaustion had suddenly worked its way into his body, and soon he was laying down - staring up at the wooden ceiling above and admiring the colorful murals that had been painted there. They depicted the war. An idealized version of it - one where the Shadow's stand against Chaos had been notably removed. A bitter smile crossed his face - and he opened his mouth to say something about how short the memories of humans could be…but already his eyes were fluttering shut. The strange tea Aurora had given him was working its way through his veins and he was adrift in an endless sea of sleep.
OG STORY: Demons are the least powerful magic users - and thus Savros' abilities are based in illusion, memory and feeling. He feeds off of the negative emotions in others, and loves prodding and poking the hearts of his victims. Savros also loves a good challenge. His goal is to reshape the world - so that Demons are no longer on the bottom of the totem pole. Plots on plots on plots, folks.
FLEXIBILITY: Savros works best in stories that need an unpredictable antagonist or at the very least a shit-stirrer. He's quite clever, and sarcastic, and loves to play with his food. His backstory and goals are harder to reshape - if you are looking for a character like Savros for a story, but don't want him to be a demon, it'd be better to discuss making a new character altogether.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Any
ROMANCE: ZERO interest in Romance Plotlines for this character at this time. Way more interested in him being played as a vaillain.
They called her a miracle.
Funny, to him she looked very much like another human. One who tried very hard to live up to her title.
She greeted him with a warm smile that caused the corners of her almond-shaped honey colored eyes to crinkle. Her light brown hair was tied in a neat bun atop her head, with a perfectly cut fringe framing her round face.
She was clad in the periwinkle blue that all Light Medics wore. However, because she was not practicing in a surgery chamber, or a physical examination office, she was clad in a fashionable skirt and matching blazer. He saw the broach in the center of her cravat - which reinforced that she was who he was looking for. The 8 sided star in the palm of an open hand.
Her smile didn't betray the surprise that wafted from her when she saw him. She was good.
But a Miracle? That was yet to be seen.
"I apologize, I had Mr. Dumerion as my next appointment."
"Yes." Replied the Demon, not moving from his chair. He tended to take up space where he stood - after hundreds of years you learned the importance of finding comfort wherever you went. "He asked me to pick up a prescription for him."
Dr. Lee raised an eyebrow, and consulted the clipboard she held in her hand. She nodded to herself, and then stepped backward - gesturing for him to enter her office.
Too easy. He almost felt bad.
He stood and made his way languidly to her office. He was unsurprised to find that it was as carefully tailored as the miracle herself. The same periwinkle blue wallpaper, the pale glow of the Light Scones dimmed. The tall window which faced the street below had the curtains drawn. Across from this was one of several comfortable looking chairs. A perfectly matching set. Overstuffed, with one arm chair, one chaise lounge and one straight backed chair.
He pointed at them each in turn. "Do you have a preference?"
Another polite smile. "That's what I'm supposed to ask you." Though she gestured to the lounge. She was good.
Wink a wink, he collapsed unceremoniously into the chair, and considered his next actions. If he struck now, there might be a scuffle. A mess. The last thing he wanted or needed. He had to avoid using Dark magic, or he'd inevitably fuel the fire the knights of Serenity had been steadily building in this city over the past decade.
No. He'd have to get her comfortable.
But judging her carefully guarded emotional state, it seemed this would not be easy.
"I know it's not…the normal practice, but Cael is leaving the country soon."
"Ah yes, he had mentioned." Replied Dr Lee, flipping through her notepad. "He didn't mention he'd be sending you in his place, however." She stopped to read the notes there.
Savros took this opportunity to really get a good look at her. It was true. Not a scratch - a scar - not even the slightest mark on her bronze skin. Had he not known any better, he might think that she wasn't human at all. But those descended from the fey couldn't hide their ancestry from those who dwelled in shadow - no matter how far back it went.
Then he caught it - subtle as her eyes flickered up to meet his. Had he not been watching her, he would have missed it the pale blue light of Light magic flickered within her eyes.
"You're nervous, Mr. Sullos." She observed, her tone carefully neutral.
Not a scratch. She remained completely unmarked. It was unlike anything he'd seen. Still, her analysis was imperfect.
"Curious." He responded. "Though I understand your confusion, their flavours are similar enough."
It really was a shame. She had a lot of potential.
"About?"
"Well, you. Why wouldn't I be?"
Was that irritation? It was! She was irritated by that.
"I see. And is that why you've come instead of your companion?"
"No." He'd make her press for more information. And, because he couldn't resist, he added. "Did I say something wrong?" He sat up completely and repositioned himself so that he was once again comfortably seated with one leg crossed and his arms spread wide. It would be easier to watch her this way.
She was not surprised or impressed by this. He was making her uncomfortable. The opposite of what his goal had been.
The last thing he needed was for this to become a scene. Bad enough that the whole city knew him, bad enough that he'd have to get her out of here and come back without using shadow magic and still manage to exit in a timely manner. Perhaps her read on him wasn't as inaccurate as he'd thought. There was much with this plan that could go wrong.
But work would be easier than her home. She lived with her parents. She walked in the park every day with some human man at lunch. She was rarely alone - except for when she did these sessions.
Funny, to him she looked very much like another human. One who tried very hard to live up to her title.
She greeted him with a warm smile that caused the corners of her almond-shaped honey colored eyes to crinkle. Her light brown hair was tied in a neat bun atop her head, with a perfectly cut fringe framing her round face.
She was clad in the periwinkle blue that all Light Medics wore. However, because she was not practicing in a surgery chamber, or a physical examination office, she was clad in a fashionable skirt and matching blazer. He saw the broach in the center of her cravat - which reinforced that she was who he was looking for. The 8 sided star in the palm of an open hand.
Her smile didn't betray the surprise that wafted from her when she saw him. She was good.
But a Miracle? That was yet to be seen.
"I apologize, I had Mr. Dumerion as my next appointment."
"Yes." Replied the Demon, not moving from his chair. He tended to take up space where he stood - after hundreds of years you learned the importance of finding comfort wherever you went. "He asked me to pick up a prescription for him."
Dr. Lee raised an eyebrow, and consulted the clipboard she held in her hand. She nodded to herself, and then stepped backward - gesturing for him to enter her office.
Too easy. He almost felt bad.
He stood and made his way languidly to her office. He was unsurprised to find that it was as carefully tailored as the miracle herself. The same periwinkle blue wallpaper, the pale glow of the Light Scones dimmed. The tall window which faced the street below had the curtains drawn. Across from this was one of several comfortable looking chairs. A perfectly matching set. Overstuffed, with one arm chair, one chaise lounge and one straight backed chair.
He pointed at them each in turn. "Do you have a preference?"
Another polite smile. "That's what I'm supposed to ask you." Though she gestured to the lounge. She was good.
Wink a wink, he collapsed unceremoniously into the chair, and considered his next actions. If he struck now, there might be a scuffle. A mess. The last thing he wanted or needed. He had to avoid using Dark magic, or he'd inevitably fuel the fire the knights of Serenity had been steadily building in this city over the past decade.
No. He'd have to get her comfortable.
But judging her carefully guarded emotional state, it seemed this would not be easy.
"I know it's not…the normal practice, but Cael is leaving the country soon."
"Ah yes, he had mentioned." Replied Dr Lee, flipping through her notepad. "He didn't mention he'd be sending you in his place, however." She stopped to read the notes there.
Savros took this opportunity to really get a good look at her. It was true. Not a scratch - a scar - not even the slightest mark on her bronze skin. Had he not known any better, he might think that she wasn't human at all. But those descended from the fey couldn't hide their ancestry from those who dwelled in shadow - no matter how far back it went.
Then he caught it - subtle as her eyes flickered up to meet his. Had he not been watching her, he would have missed it the pale blue light of Light magic flickered within her eyes.
"You're nervous, Mr. Sullos." She observed, her tone carefully neutral.
Not a scratch. She remained completely unmarked. It was unlike anything he'd seen. Still, her analysis was imperfect.
"Curious." He responded. "Though I understand your confusion, their flavours are similar enough."
It really was a shame. She had a lot of potential.
"About?"
"Well, you. Why wouldn't I be?"
Was that irritation? It was! She was irritated by that.
"I see. And is that why you've come instead of your companion?"
"No." He'd make her press for more information. And, because he couldn't resist, he added. "Did I say something wrong?" He sat up completely and repositioned himself so that he was once again comfortably seated with one leg crossed and his arms spread wide. It would be easier to watch her this way.
She was not surprised or impressed by this. He was making her uncomfortable. The opposite of what his goal had been.
The last thing he needed was for this to become a scene. Bad enough that the whole city knew him, bad enough that he'd have to get her out of here and come back without using shadow magic and still manage to exit in a timely manner. Perhaps her read on him wasn't as inaccurate as he'd thought. There was much with this plan that could go wrong.
But work would be easier than her home. She lived with her parents. She walked in the park every day with some human man at lunch. She was rarely alone - except for when she did these sessions.
She traveled with her newly found Mentor, Cael to Red Canyon - where they were attacked by a militant group of Shadow-Touched hunters calling themselves "The Knights of Serenity". In the fray, Sin accidentally killed dozens in her attempt to wield the Shadow - and lost consciousness in the process. She awoke, moments later, thousands of miles away in the city of Elaria, where she began witnessing the oppression of Shadow-touched for the nature of their magic and existence. In a city churning with magic, Sin waited and grew stronger and stronger, unaware that she was on a path to fulfill a prophecy written long before she was born.
FLEXIBILITY: Sin's got two stages that she can be written in. One is her as a teenager, she's very skinny, sickly, and in constant pain. Kind of a bummer to be around - but not yet wielding any kind of magic. In her second stage of power, she is a lot more firm and intense. I can't think of a way to play this non-magical character. Could maybe do something in a low-magic setting with her being a teenager with a mysterious illness, and rework it so it's based more in a tangible reality - that does lock us into playing her as a teenager. I could see her story being adjusted for other fantasy scenarios - vampirism might work for her for example. But her story is intrinsically to some kind of dark magic.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Adventure, Hero's Journey (could be an escort story if we want it to take place in the world of the Dead Lands), Sin also works for a gang-of-misfit heroes scenario.
Sin was on the beach again.
Soft white silty sand blew in swirls around sandaled feet. The smell of the red weeds that tangled themselves upon the shore had hit her with a wave of nausea when she'd first arrived. Between the smell, the baking sun, and the itchy sand, the beach was probably the least comfortable place she could go.
However, to the skinny girl of 16 who gazed out over the open water, discomfort was a part of life. Sand and salt were a small price to pay peace. So, she adjusted the light robes and wraps that protected her sensitive skin, and watched the choppy green-gray waves.
On days when she wasn't teaching the babies, she didn't have the energy to do much. But here, she could stare out at the twisted red structures jutting from the water in the distance. And while she stared, she could think.
She liked to think.
She liked to reflect on what she knew, versus what she suspected.
For example, she knew that hunger was inevitable. She suspected it was a side effect of her curse, not the nature of it.
She knew that her symptoms shared much in common with the Shadow-Touched. But she suspected, from her hours upon hours of research, that her curse was something different.
The pipers scuttled away as sandals were kicked to the side, and she took a few steps closer to the water. The movement from silty burning sand to the cool wet smooth surface was a relief. The water rushed over her toes.
This, at least, was pleasant. Stingers floated lazily on the surface, so she didn't dare go deeper than her ankles. Plus, Aurora would kill her if she messed up her wrappings. Calming her would take energy Sin didn't have.
'Just a year more and I won't even need them.'
She hadn't decided yet if she would tell anyone her plans. People had this habit of getting in the way - especially those with good intentions.
Find a cure.
As if on cue, she felt a stab of pain, and thin pale hands fumbled with a pouch tied to her waist. She withdrew the dried meat Aurora had given her before she left, and took a few reluctant bites of it. She felt sick at the taste.
Light help me. She thought, willing the pain away.
Trapped within her skin, there was nowhere to run. Minutes that felt like hours oozed by. Her stomach twisted, and, thankfully, accepted the peace offering. The pain lessened, like snakes loosening their coils. Colorless eyes fluttered open, and the water rushed over her ankles, tugging her sharply out of her broken body and back into the world.
"I hate it here."
Guilt. A different kind of stabbing pain.
Soft white silty sand blew in swirls around sandaled feet. The smell of the red weeds that tangled themselves upon the shore had hit her with a wave of nausea when she'd first arrived. Between the smell, the baking sun, and the itchy sand, the beach was probably the least comfortable place she could go.
However, to the skinny girl of 16 who gazed out over the open water, discomfort was a part of life. Sand and salt were a small price to pay peace. So, she adjusted the light robes and wraps that protected her sensitive skin, and watched the choppy green-gray waves.
On days when she wasn't teaching the babies, she didn't have the energy to do much. But here, she could stare out at the twisted red structures jutting from the water in the distance. And while she stared, she could think.
She liked to think.
She liked to reflect on what she knew, versus what she suspected.
For example, she knew that hunger was inevitable. She suspected it was a side effect of her curse, not the nature of it.
She knew that her symptoms shared much in common with the Shadow-Touched. But she suspected, from her hours upon hours of research, that her curse was something different.
The pipers scuttled away as sandals were kicked to the side, and she took a few steps closer to the water. The movement from silty burning sand to the cool wet smooth surface was a relief. The water rushed over her toes.
This, at least, was pleasant. Stingers floated lazily on the surface, so she didn't dare go deeper than her ankles. Plus, Aurora would kill her if she messed up her wrappings. Calming her would take energy Sin didn't have.
'Just a year more and I won't even need them.'
She hadn't decided yet if she would tell anyone her plans. People had this habit of getting in the way - especially those with good intentions.
Find a cure.
As if on cue, she felt a stab of pain, and thin pale hands fumbled with a pouch tied to her waist. She withdrew the dried meat Aurora had given her before she left, and took a few reluctant bites of it. She felt sick at the taste.
Light help me. She thought, willing the pain away.
Trapped within her skin, there was nowhere to run. Minutes that felt like hours oozed by. Her stomach twisted, and, thankfully, accepted the peace offering. The pain lessened, like snakes loosening their coils. Colorless eyes fluttered open, and the water rushed over her ankles, tugging her sharply out of her broken body and back into the world.
"I hate it here."
Guilt. A different kind of stabbing pain.
OG STORY: Vera Nithali is a young wood elf on a mission: catalogue every monster and creature she can learn about. She's wide-eyed, warm, rambunctious and endlessly kind. Bold and confident, she's not afraid to stand up for what she believes to be the right thing to do. A bit awkward, but heart heart makes up for it. She's always looking to make a new friend. She usually carries an axe, a net, and a collections of tools and weapons that make monster hunting easy and fun.
FLEXIBILITY: Story need a monster hunter? She's in. Story need a ranger to guide them through a dark and dangerous forest? She's in. As long as Vera can remain an elf, and it makes sense for a ranger to appear in the story, she'll be there.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Adventure, Coming of Age themes
Decades passed, and the trees aged slowly as did the village folk. Aerolan's smooth skin developed thin lines around his eyes and mouth. Vera grew from youngling to child, to a full grown adult. Then, with seeming suddenness, it was the day of her great outing. She stood, tall and lean with dark skin and moss-colored eyes, very much like her mother. She gazed into her wash basin and considered the deep green and coppery undertones of her skin, as well as the freckly flush that gave her face an even rounder appearance.
"Well. It could be worse, I s'pose." She muttered, tugging lightly at her short, wiry hair.
Outside the dense hollowed tree that was her home, she could hear the commotion of the village as it prepared for the celebration. It was a birthright. Not all the elves within the village would be receiving such a ceremony, but then, not all the elves within the village would be returning home with tales of adventure and new knowledge to stock their great libraries with. The weight of this duty pressed down upon her as she checked her pack yet again.
Dried venison and hard-tac. A water cantine. A roll. A change of clothes. Soap. Arrows. A quill and some parchment. A net. Her axes. Her bow. Yes…everything that had been on her list. And yet…
"I swear I'm forgettin' somethin." She muttered to herself.
"Don't ferget yer tiara, princess!" Came a warm, jovial voice from behind her. A lithe young man of similarly dark complexion and red colored hair came waltzing in with a little bow.
"You've never seen a tiara." She responded coolly.
"Nor ave' you."
"Yeah? Well tell em' you're a princess and they'll give yeh one in the human cities." He grabbed a chair and gracefully allowed his wiry frame to fall into it.
"Ah shut it, Darias." Vera snapped with a roll of her eyes. "Ain't no kings here. Ain't no princes or princesses neither."
"I'd make a great prince." Replied Darias, sounding bored.
"You make a great prat. What are you doing here, anyway?"
Darias gave a shrug. "Sun sets in 30 minutes. That's when the festivities start."
"Aye?"
"Well, I wanted to make sure you got my present before you left and became a woman of the world and decided you didn't need my friendship anymore." He winked at her as he fished into his breast pocket.
"Better be a damn good present!" She said warningly. "Otherwise, I'll probably forget you and come back with dashing adventurers for friends."
"I'm wounded, Vera. Really." He didn't sound it. In fact, as he skillfully whipped the small object out and hid it in his hand, he stood and leaned very close to her. "Are yeh ready, princess?"
"Jus' give it teh me."
"Alright, alright." And with a very unnecessary flourish, Darias produced a carving of a great creature with tusks and a long beautiful trunk. Vera gasped and took the little wooden creature into her hands, marveling over it. The small dip in its head and the hole in the side of its trunk revealed it for what it was.
"A pipe?!" She squealed.
"Well, yer a grown woman now. It's part of the tradition."
Very flung her arms around her friend, and jumped happily. Darias laughed and watched her appreciatively as she moved away and slipped the pipe into one of the pockets of her bag. As she did so, a low trumpet hummed in the street outside. Vera's head whipped around excitedly.
"It's starting." She said with a grin.
"Aye. Time to say farewell, princess."
Vera punched her friend in the shoulder, and sprinted out of her childhood home, into the village.
"Well. It could be worse, I s'pose." She muttered, tugging lightly at her short, wiry hair.
Outside the dense hollowed tree that was her home, she could hear the commotion of the village as it prepared for the celebration. It was a birthright. Not all the elves within the village would be receiving such a ceremony, but then, not all the elves within the village would be returning home with tales of adventure and new knowledge to stock their great libraries with. The weight of this duty pressed down upon her as she checked her pack yet again.
Dried venison and hard-tac. A water cantine. A roll. A change of clothes. Soap. Arrows. A quill and some parchment. A net. Her axes. Her bow. Yes…everything that had been on her list. And yet…
"I swear I'm forgettin' somethin." She muttered to herself.
"Don't ferget yer tiara, princess!" Came a warm, jovial voice from behind her. A lithe young man of similarly dark complexion and red colored hair came waltzing in with a little bow.
"You've never seen a tiara." She responded coolly.
"Nor ave' you."
"Yeah? Well tell em' you're a princess and they'll give yeh one in the human cities." He grabbed a chair and gracefully allowed his wiry frame to fall into it.
"Ah shut it, Darias." Vera snapped with a roll of her eyes. "Ain't no kings here. Ain't no princes or princesses neither."
"I'd make a great prince." Replied Darias, sounding bored.
"You make a great prat. What are you doing here, anyway?"
Darias gave a shrug. "Sun sets in 30 minutes. That's when the festivities start."
"Aye?"
"Well, I wanted to make sure you got my present before you left and became a woman of the world and decided you didn't need my friendship anymore." He winked at her as he fished into his breast pocket.
"Better be a damn good present!" She said warningly. "Otherwise, I'll probably forget you and come back with dashing adventurers for friends."
"I'm wounded, Vera. Really." He didn't sound it. In fact, as he skillfully whipped the small object out and hid it in his hand, he stood and leaned very close to her. "Are yeh ready, princess?"
"Jus' give it teh me."
"Alright, alright." And with a very unnecessary flourish, Darias produced a carving of a great creature with tusks and a long beautiful trunk. Vera gasped and took the little wooden creature into her hands, marveling over it. The small dip in its head and the hole in the side of its trunk revealed it for what it was.
"A pipe?!" She squealed.
"Well, yer a grown woman now. It's part of the tradition."
Very flung her arms around her friend, and jumped happily. Darias laughed and watched her appreciatively as she moved away and slipped the pipe into one of the pockets of her bag. As she did so, a low trumpet hummed in the street outside. Vera's head whipped around excitedly.
"It's starting." She said with a grin.
"Aye. Time to say farewell, princess."
Vera punched her friend in the shoulder, and sprinted out of her childhood home, into the village.
FLEXIBILITY: I'm very willing to tweak Evarine's magical background to fit into a story that requires any kind of investigative character. She's one of my oldest characters and getting into her headspace is like putting on a comfortable shoe. She might be a guard in a low-fantasy setting. Or a reporter in a setting based in the real-world.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Thriller, crime, political thriller, anything fantasy or fiction that requires a little grit
She was interrupted by a knock on her door.
"Captain - we need you out here." The voice belonged to Cadan, a younger officer. He wouldn't ask for her if it wasn't important.
"Coming."
She ran her fingers through her hair, gently prying free a few tangles, and tucked her buttoned shirt back into her khaki trousers. It seemed she'd have to take care of work before she could dig any further into the meaning of the letter.
With a sharp wrench, she yanked open her door and stepped back into the hall. Cadan paced anxiously before her, his eyes flickering back over his shoulder.
"You alright?" Evaraine asked with a furrowed expression.
"Been an attack at the hospital. A human's gone missing. The press have already flooded the place sniffing around for a story. Only one witness - a demon-"
He was cut off by the groan that escaped her lips. Only allowing herself a moment of frustration, Evaraine caught herself and snapped into action. She took off down the hall at a sharp pace. "Does Sondoro know about this?"
"No ma'am." Cadan said, quickly catching up with her stride.
"Good. Last thing we need. Any records for the witness?"
"Erm - yes ma'am. That's part of the problem."
She stopped and Cadan nearly ran into her."Well? Spit it out."
"Well - the only witness is - erm, Savros Cullus."
She came to an abrupt halt. "Come again?"
"Savros Cullus - the erm - the Demon on the Council of Elders, ma'am."
This was too much. Savros, who was apparently Arden's informant. Savros, who'd been sending letters to her for weeks, attempting to convince be a representative for some pointless campaign against Frederick Sondoro's crackdown on unregulated Dark Magic. And now, he was the only witness of an attack, at a hospital, where a human healer had gone missing?
She took in a deep breath through her nose, and then expelled air through her teeth with a slow hiss. Cadan shifted his weight nervously.
Elien took just enough time to process this information, before snapping her fingers and moving faster than she had before.
"Right." She said, "We need to keep this off Sondoro's desk for as long as possible."
Cadan nodded. "I'm the one who caught the report ma'am, so no one else knows."
"Good lad."
The young officer smiled.
There were only a few officers in the Beauru who were dark touched. Cadan was a demon - although like most demons within the capital, he masked his less human features. But there was no mistaking the glint of amber in his eyes. Between him, the vampire from Rivast and a few fiend-touched humans, there wasn't much protection for shadow worshippers within the city.
Because she was fey-touched who didn't fear darkness, they trusted her when a sensitive case crossed their path. It had been a nuisance a few months prior, but recently there'd been a strange backlash against darkness. Increasingly, the sentiment within the bureau was that if a dark creature was accused of a crime, they were likely guilty of it.
But that wasn't how it worked, and that wasn't how it was supposed to work.
The two jogged up the stairs, and nearly made it to the door when -
"Dumerion."
She groaned, and slowly turned to face the head of her department.
"Captain - we need you out here." The voice belonged to Cadan, a younger officer. He wouldn't ask for her if it wasn't important.
"Coming."
She ran her fingers through her hair, gently prying free a few tangles, and tucked her buttoned shirt back into her khaki trousers. It seemed she'd have to take care of work before she could dig any further into the meaning of the letter.
With a sharp wrench, she yanked open her door and stepped back into the hall. Cadan paced anxiously before her, his eyes flickering back over his shoulder.
"You alright?" Evaraine asked with a furrowed expression.
"Been an attack at the hospital. A human's gone missing. The press have already flooded the place sniffing around for a story. Only one witness - a demon-"
He was cut off by the groan that escaped her lips. Only allowing herself a moment of frustration, Evaraine caught herself and snapped into action. She took off down the hall at a sharp pace. "Does Sondoro know about this?"
"No ma'am." Cadan said, quickly catching up with her stride.
"Good. Last thing we need. Any records for the witness?"
"Erm - yes ma'am. That's part of the problem."
She stopped and Cadan nearly ran into her."Well? Spit it out."
"Well - the only witness is - erm, Savros Cullus."
She came to an abrupt halt. "Come again?"
"Savros Cullus - the erm - the Demon on the Council of Elders, ma'am."
This was too much. Savros, who was apparently Arden's informant. Savros, who'd been sending letters to her for weeks, attempting to convince be a representative for some pointless campaign against Frederick Sondoro's crackdown on unregulated Dark Magic. And now, he was the only witness of an attack, at a hospital, where a human healer had gone missing?
She took in a deep breath through her nose, and then expelled air through her teeth with a slow hiss. Cadan shifted his weight nervously.
Elien took just enough time to process this information, before snapping her fingers and moving faster than she had before.
"Right." She said, "We need to keep this off Sondoro's desk for as long as possible."
Cadan nodded. "I'm the one who caught the report ma'am, so no one else knows."
"Good lad."
The young officer smiled.
There were only a few officers in the Beauru who were dark touched. Cadan was a demon - although like most demons within the capital, he masked his less human features. But there was no mistaking the glint of amber in his eyes. Between him, the vampire from Rivast and a few fiend-touched humans, there wasn't much protection for shadow worshippers within the city.
Because she was fey-touched who didn't fear darkness, they trusted her when a sensitive case crossed their path. It had been a nuisance a few months prior, but recently there'd been a strange backlash against darkness. Increasingly, the sentiment within the bureau was that if a dark creature was accused of a crime, they were likely guilty of it.
But that wasn't how it worked, and that wasn't how it was supposed to work.
The two jogged up the stairs, and nearly made it to the door when -
"Dumerion."
She groaned, and slowly turned to face the head of her department.
HISTORICAL/REALISM/FLEXIBLEFANTASY
OG STORY: Loralai Falco is an uptight, organized, straight-headed-on-her-shoulders wizard who by all appearances, seems perfectly respectable. She was a healer first, and a hedge witch - but after some challenging events, she began to study wizardry. She dresses well. She takes care of her things. She has plans on plans. However…Loralai has a secret. Loralai's a necromancer, attempting to perfect resurrection without the input of gods - using medicine and magic in tandem. Her reasoning is her greatest secret. She will do whatever it takes to achieve her goal.
FLEXIBILITY: Loralai's story IS who she is. It will be very difficult to separate her characterization from her motivation. She can work very well in a low magic setting - or in a realism setting where alchemy is actively being researched. She will always, always, always be obsessed with reversing death. This is non-negotiable for her character, and as such the story must somehow be a step toward her completing that goal. That said - it could be exploring a tomb, investigating a string of mysterious deaths, delving into the secrets of a more powerful wizard.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Horror, Adventure
The noise and bustle of Port Nyanzaru was a cacophony of language, beasts, spices, and smells. To a young adventurer, full of delight and wonder, it would have been an exciting place. To Loralai Flaco -
"Monstrous." The woman muttered under her breath as she attempted for the 10th time to smooth her hair. It was not ideal. The fastidious care with which she usually treated her appearance was doomed to be lost in this place.
Her traveling clothes were comfortable across the sword coast. In the cool, damp, temperate villages she called her home she had become accustomed to her high, tightly buttoned collar and long skirts. Here, her robe was lighter and open, her thin pale neck uncomfortably exposed and while the tan-colored trousers provided easier movement, they were still an adjustment. She found herself turning sideways to move through spaces that would have been tight in a skirt but were easily traveled in trousers.
Despite this, she carried herself with an air of calm confidence, fixated on her goal for the day. She opened the small journal, read through the multi-step plan she had set for herself, and spent much of her morning working on step 1a; finding a reliable guide. The trail was an easy one to follow. A rumor here, an artist rendition there - the breadcrumbs, from a friendly but curious child on the street to a woman who regarded Loralai with great suspicion all lead her to…a whore house.
How quaint.
"I'm looking for Fletcher Reed."
The woman outside gave a little giggle, looking her up and down. "Sorry love, we don't disclose the names of clients." That was a Baldurian accent. Interesting. Well, if there was one thing she knew about Bauldur's Gate…
Loralai withdrew a gold piece.
The woman's grin widened, and she took it in hand. "Yeah, he's inside. What you want with him?"
"I want to pay for his time, and I want him to be directed to me. Is there seating inside? Drinks?"
"Of course. All paying customers welcome. Care to sample any of the goods while you wait?" She gestured to her broad curves, and Loralai gave a polite shake of her head.
"Not today, Thank you."
Fletcher Reed - the first piece of her puzzle. First, she would need a kind of rugged outdoorsy wisdom. The kind that carried a man from the jungle alone. Then she would need the cunning and stealth of a burglar accustomed to disarming traps and unlocking doors. Finally, she would need some kind of muscle to take the brunt of harm away from herself. She would handle the healing, and what she couldn't do, potions would take care of.
She had accounted for undead, for dinosaurs, had considered the appearance of others like herself, and even contemplated how she'd respond to red wizards should they make an appearance to investigate the curse.
What she hadn't accounted for was the air. The heavy way it sat upon her skin. She felt unclean. Or perhaps that was from the look that bugbear was giving her.
Her discomfort was hidden behind a straight back, a cool expression, and the book she was scribbling notes into. She had no fear of missing Reed - when he came down to pay he would be directed to her. The barkeep had even agreed to say his name loud enough for her to catch it - in case he was the sort to reject good work.
In the meantime, there she sat - a rigid statue in the middle of the room, with a medical case and a journal. The resurrected were dying. The undead were spreading. Souls were vanishing. And she, who had been trying for half a decade to find an arcane path to true resurrection, would be the one to change the world. But before she ventured into the jungle, she would need help.
"Monstrous." The woman muttered under her breath as she attempted for the 10th time to smooth her hair. It was not ideal. The fastidious care with which she usually treated her appearance was doomed to be lost in this place.
Her traveling clothes were comfortable across the sword coast. In the cool, damp, temperate villages she called her home she had become accustomed to her high, tightly buttoned collar and long skirts. Here, her robe was lighter and open, her thin pale neck uncomfortably exposed and while the tan-colored trousers provided easier movement, they were still an adjustment. She found herself turning sideways to move through spaces that would have been tight in a skirt but were easily traveled in trousers.
Despite this, she carried herself with an air of calm confidence, fixated on her goal for the day. She opened the small journal, read through the multi-step plan she had set for herself, and spent much of her morning working on step 1a; finding a reliable guide. The trail was an easy one to follow. A rumor here, an artist rendition there - the breadcrumbs, from a friendly but curious child on the street to a woman who regarded Loralai with great suspicion all lead her to…a whore house.
How quaint.
"I'm looking for Fletcher Reed."
The woman outside gave a little giggle, looking her up and down. "Sorry love, we don't disclose the names of clients." That was a Baldurian accent. Interesting. Well, if there was one thing she knew about Bauldur's Gate…
Loralai withdrew a gold piece.
The woman's grin widened, and she took it in hand. "Yeah, he's inside. What you want with him?"
"I want to pay for his time, and I want him to be directed to me. Is there seating inside? Drinks?"
"Of course. All paying customers welcome. Care to sample any of the goods while you wait?" She gestured to her broad curves, and Loralai gave a polite shake of her head.
"Not today, Thank you."
Fletcher Reed - the first piece of her puzzle. First, she would need a kind of rugged outdoorsy wisdom. The kind that carried a man from the jungle alone. Then she would need the cunning and stealth of a burglar accustomed to disarming traps and unlocking doors. Finally, she would need some kind of muscle to take the brunt of harm away from herself. She would handle the healing, and what she couldn't do, potions would take care of.
She had accounted for undead, for dinosaurs, had considered the appearance of others like herself, and even contemplated how she'd respond to red wizards should they make an appearance to investigate the curse.
What she hadn't accounted for was the air. The heavy way it sat upon her skin. She felt unclean. Or perhaps that was from the look that bugbear was giving her.
Her discomfort was hidden behind a straight back, a cool expression, and the book she was scribbling notes into. She had no fear of missing Reed - when he came down to pay he would be directed to her. The barkeep had even agreed to say his name loud enough for her to catch it - in case he was the sort to reject good work.
In the meantime, there she sat - a rigid statue in the middle of the room, with a medical case and a journal. The resurrected were dying. The undead were spreading. Souls were vanishing. And she, who had been trying for half a decade to find an arcane path to true resurrection, would be the one to change the world. But before she ventured into the jungle, she would need help.
Personality wise, Colette is a little flirt. She loves flitting about, batting her eyelashes, and causing a scandal. Nothing in this world brings her greater joy than teasing the men and women about her.
Weapons are the classic d&d style bard combo, a viola and a rapier.
FLEXIBILITY: There are several points in Collete's story we can play with. Prior to her marriage to a handsome upstart Nobleman - at which point she is just a rambunctious young woman planning for her wedding day, after she's married the man and has children, and has begun actively working to undermine her husband's political career - and after she is nearly killed and exiled from Rivast, swearing to have her revenge. If we do the former, I'd prefer to have the RP take place in the world of Rivast - which I can give you information on. If it's the latter - she can fit snugly into any fantasy setting - low or otherwise. The magical aspects of her background can be tweaked. The political aspects are essential to her character - though for a realistic or historical setting, Louis XVI's reign just before the revolution is most apt. She was originally crafted for Curse of Strahd - and so she also works in high fantasy settings where a bard's magic can come into play.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Fantasy adventure, political intrigue, Strahd-esque horror or vampire stories could work for her too
FLEXIBILITY: This character's backstory is not very flushed out. Which in turn makes her very flexible. In a realistic historical setting I could easily see Isana dressing as a man and working well among a band of pirates or bandits. In a historically appreciative setting (i.e. we're playing with aesthetics but it's not necessarily realistic) she'd work well as a captain of a ship or a land-locked mercenary troop. Pretty much - if you have a story where a weird alcoholic and chronically depressed ex-soldier/sailor fits, Isana will do well.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Fantasy adventure, historical fiction, general adventure stories, pirates - really anything
CYBER PUNK
FLEXIBILITY: Liv is locked to the cyberpunk crime genre. Any stories that fall within that will work for her - but she's a gangster and power-hungry and wants nothing more than to clamber back up the corpo ladder to sink her teeth into power once more.
SUGGESTED SUB-GENRES: Crime, Heists - that sort of thing.
Thanks for reading!
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