Character(s) Vault of Rp tested adventures

[Yhmera]

Name: Rain Hallewell
Age: 22
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Height: 5'6
Weight: 153 lbs (About 69 kg)
Job: Student and Artist

Physical Description:
Long tie-dyed hair falls just past the small of her back. With the colors slowly fading into each other at random. Alabaster skin made her round amethyst eyes glow with life. An aquiline button nose and pointed lips finished off her features on a diamond-shaped face. Standing 5 foot 6 inches at 153 pounds meant there were some curves to that body. Not that she was overweight. Just a bit of fluff. Her movements are often that of a graceful gazel. Turning everything she does into a dance almost. As if moving to a melody only she can hear. Often times she is dressed in bright mix match clothes. Usually with smudges of paint, charcoal, or pastels across them from work. The scent of turpentine and lavender clings to her softly freckled skin.

Personality:
There are many things one could call Rain. Happy, eccentric, forgetful, or space case. But the name Rain didn't seem to do that personality justice. The woman had some real issues most days. Leaving the cordless phone in the refrigerator or trying to leave without her car keys. Always forgetting to actually lock up behind her. She was a menace to herself on the best of days. But that didn't get her down. Nor did she let it stop her. Some would say her smile was only skin deep. Or that she lacked brains so that's why she always had a vacant smile on her face. Really, she's just an over-optimistic person who chooses not to focus on the negative. To top it off. The woman had a heart of gold. Those on the outside would say she lets people take advantage of her good and overly trusting nature. But in truth, Rain was more perceptive about people than most realized. However, once she decided you were a friend, then she tends to let her defensive drop a little too much. Now with that said, don't take her for a pushover. Once Rain has her mind is set it almost takes an act of congress to change it.

Likes:
1. Bright colors
2. Volunteering
3. Trying new things

Dislikes:
1. Bland foods
2. Sombre music
3. Overly serious people

Background:
The youngest of 4 older brothers, Rain is the much beloved baby sister to a group that looked like they belonged behind bars. Their mom being a hippy that belonged back in the 60's and an ex biker gang leader for a father. How the two came together to make a successful family, the world will never know. But the two of them with the help of their older 3 sons run a tattoo parlor. Rain oftentimes helps to draw up the tattoos with her mother. But tended to spend most of her time at the local nightclub down the street looking for people to draw and sources of inspiration. That or down at the artisan market trying to sell her work.

Her end goal is to make it big as an artist. That and get her overly protective brothers off her back. Since she tends to be on the forgetful side of things, her brothers have made it a habit to check in on her regularly. Especially after her loft apartment was broken into about a year ago. All of her art was ruined and some even stolen. Everyone thought it was one of Rain's charity chases that did it. But in truth, the person behind the break in was never discovered.

Currently, after she gets done helping at the tattoo parlor or selling her art, she heads down to the local college. Taking art classes, trying to broaden her skills. Learning pottery, jewelry making, and a few other arts. Limiting her outlet for creative expression wasn't something Rain had ever been good at. Although her favorite median is coal.

 

[Yhmera]

Name: Megir of the ThunderFists
Age: 26
Race: Half Orc
Gender: Female
Height: 5'9 (175.26cm)
Weight: 186lbs (84 kg)
Class: Beast Master
Familiar: Giant bear
Alignment: Neutral
Weapons: Crude long sword and a hand axe

Physical Description:
Her 5'9 muscular form is covered in sage green flesh that's coursed and scarred from years of combat and harsh living. A roman nose rested between two narrow deep set eyes. A thin faded scar splits the left brow. Her tusks are shorter than most orc. Mostly due to the fact she is only half. Braids and dreads pull back her thick raven hair away from her chiseled face. Corded arms and legs look as if they were built for strength alone. All sinew and muscle. But that hardened body is capable of short bursts of agility and speed. Megir normally is dressed in rugged leathers and furs with patches of crude armor.

Personality:
Orcs are known for being brutal, savage, and reveling in cruelty. But that's not really what one would say about Megir. More like a person of few words. A glance or gesture holds more meaning. Unrefined and rough around the edges. She comes off a bit more direct and harsh than she means to most times. Although she loves a good fight, she avoids getting people mixed up in her conflicts when able. Making sure there is no unnecessary bloodshed. Her grudges seem to be never-ending. And once your on that list, you'll be hard-pressed to get off it. And don't ask unless you want to know the brutal truth of the matter. She doesn't lie and doesn't sweeten her words. With all that said, those who have been lucky enough to call the half orc friend have seen her rare nurturing and protective side. They know that once she extends her hand in friendship that there isn't much she wouldn't do for them. Yes, she comes off harsh and uncaring most times but she doesn't like to see people suffer when it's not deserved.

Likes
1. Animals
2. Hot baths
3. Freshly baked bread

Dislikes
1. Slavers
2. Lies
3. Injustice
4. Crouded towns and areas

Background:
Conceived in an unwanted union between a human and orc. Megir was quickly tossed aside, discarded at birth. Seen as a runt, a pollution of the ThunderFist bloodline. Little more than an abomination that needed to be eradicated. As the crying infant waited for her untimely demise, an unlikely savior found her. A roaming caravan full of unsavory people. They would have surely left the half orc infant to her grisly demise if they didn't think there would be profit in saving her. And much to their greedy pleasure, saving the half orc had been one of the most profitable endeavors.

As soon as she was old enough to hold a weapon, Megir was tossed into fighting pits. People betting on who would live and die. How long the half orc would last. Maybe it was the fact she was kept with the animals. Or the fact the animals were treated better than her. Whatever the reason, Megir grew close to the bear cubs she slept with. Even the jackals and the wolverine didn't seem to mind her company. And unlike the people that held her, they started to teach her how to fight. How to defend and attack weak spots. As she grew into a young woman, she acted much like the animals she was housed with.

That was until a chance encounter with a group of adventures put an end to the caravan and their erroneous ways. To the gangly group's surprise, Megir was found caged and battered like the rest of the animals. The half orc seemed just as wild and savage as the rest of the animals. More so in fact. It was the dwarven ranger that took pity on her. With a great deal of patience, Hidrul taught Megir the basics of life. The little things that had been kept from her all these years. She learned to read, write. How to fight properly with sword, bow, and axe. She even learned how to connect more with the animals. Even communicate on a primal level with them.

It took almost 30 years, but she was finally free and allowed to live her own life. Past scars still marred her green flesh, reminding her of the past. An unwanted mixed blood who survived hell. Now she only goes to town when absolutely needed. Megir travels from place to place. Always with a bear at her back. She takes on the requests that others pass up. Helping the poor farmer with gnoll raiders. Or playing guard for small groups trying to get to the next town as they travel through hag-infested swamps.

 

[Yhmera]

Name: Shuza
Age: 437
Race: Storm Dragon
Gender: Female
Alignment: Chaotic Good

Physical Description:
As a dragon, she is huge. With a long serpentine body, about 40 foot in length and a 25 foot wing span. Bluish white in color with a mix of fur and scales.
As a woman however she is only 5'3 with softly rounded curves. Long straight cobalt blue hair cascading down her back in waves, setting off her porcelain skin and cornflower blue eyes.

Personality:
Dragons. Known for being big mean man eating monsters. And one could almost say that was true about Shuza. Well no, not really. Both as a dragon and a woman she tends to be awkward, never really under standing the proper emotional response to different situations. Often times she misreads peoples moods and intentions. This tends to lead to her getting into trouble. She is very caring for those around her and lets it show regularly. However her stormy temper can sometimes get in the way.

Likes
1. Basking in the sun
2. Festivals
3. The sounds of laughter

Dislikes
1. The dark
2. Humans
3. Overly spicy foods
4. Being alone.

Background:
An old dragon legend. A man of pure hate and evil once fell in love with a dragon. But she saw his heart wasn't pure and his love wasn't true. She loved another. A bird. Such a simple creature with a limitless potential for compassion. Realizing the dragon would never love the man he did what he thought was the next best thing. He took her heart. In that moment, in her grief and rage she summoned forth the furies of the winds and skies. Striking the earth with lighting and flooding the lands. The first storm dragon was born. And all that have come forth since have been dragons of rage and destruction until they find their lost heart.

As a hatchling Shuza was always told she would be incomplete for the rest of her life. That of all the dragons she was born without a heart. In truth, she was never taught anything but rage and anger. Anger that she was hunted for parts and potions. Because she brought about storms of all kinds when angered. Everyone she had ever allied with has died or turned on her. So now Shuza tries to keep to herself as much as possible. Only problem is, she wants to be with people. Doesn't want to be alone.

Over the years she had fought the urge to get a rider. Tying herself to a person couldn't be a good idea. Not after everything she had been through. Only this time she couldn't resist the pull. Like someone was screaming for her to come and save them. Yet, how could she do that when she doesn't even know how to save herself.

 

[Yhmera]

Name: Malina Heinrik
Age: 26
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Height: 5'7 (170.18cm)
Weight: 134lbs (60.7814 kg)
Class: Oracle

Personality: Malina isn't like others. Hearing voices and having visons of things that could been tent to have an impart on a person. Many call her snobbish. really she is shy and withdrawn. Always having a hard to related to the people around her. Those who are close to her would say she is sweet, gentle, loyal and slightly insecure person. Laid back and easy going. However on a rare occasion a more stubborn and hardheaded personality emergency.

Appearance: The 5'6 woman wouldn't be called slender with her shapely body. But one would be hard pressed to find an ounce of fat. Although an oracle for the king himself, she still trained her mind and body daily. Long platinum hair fell down to the middle of her rear in soft waves. Deep amethyst eyes seemed to glow against her porcelain skin. Plump rosy lips and and a button nose sat on her heart shaped face.

Likes:
1. walks in the flowery meadows
2. watching the stars
3. music

Dislikes:
1. the dark
2. storms
3. small spaces

Bio: Malina was never like other children. Not even when coming into the world. On the day of her birth she was blue and lifeless. It took a promise to serve a god of fate, Hathor, to bring life back into the child. Her newborn hair turning from raven black to platinum white. Her eyes seemed to glow with the untapped powers that now were housed with in the tiny body.

As she grew, Malina never talked or played like the other kids. Always scared to touch anything or anyone. For when she did, visions would fill her mind. Things that she couldn't stop or control. She could see some dying and other living long and healthy lives. When she tried to speak out about what she saw, she was always accused of being a witch.

Hearing of her gift, Malina was brought to live with the king and train with his personal seers. There she was treated like a goddess and given the space she needed to allow her powers to grow. That was until the vision came. Claiming to have seen the return of an old god. One of malice in hate. No one listened. For no other seer had such a vision. Fearing what would happen if the vision was left unheeded, she set out to the lands she saw. A far away island was her first destination. She was sure once there, the next part of the journey would be made clear.

Spoiler: traveling garb

 

[Yhmera]

Name: Torlee Garani
Age: 22
Race: Half orc/ dwarf mix
Gender: Female
Height: 4'9 (144.78 cm)
Weight: 126lbs (57.1kg)
Class: rogue

Personality:
Torlee is an extremely skilled and confident rogue; she enjoys a heist or scam almost as much as she enjoys taunting the people that hunt her. She is playful and flirtatious, even when she is in the middle of a heated situation. Although she rarely takes her playfulness past flirting. Often time she is impatient and very expressive, speaking loudly and bluntly or showing her emotions on her face. When enraged Torlee becomes a quiet storm. Ending her flirtatious taunts and starts attacking mercilessly. Once to that point it can be hard to get her to stop. Even though she never seems to take anything seriously, she isn't a trusting person. Her friendship is hard won and even then she often times seems to not care about their feelings. Still, Torlee becomes genuinely worried when a friend is in danger. Or when she realizes she oversteps her bounds. Do to her odd heritage hides her insecurities behind a façade of humor.


Appearance:
Short silken strands of black and watermelon that curls around her ears and the nape of her neck. Cadmium green skin made her almond shaped violet eyes glow with life. A funnel nose and pointed lips finished off her features on a rectangular shaped face. Two small tusks and her lack of height give off that she isn't full orc. Standing 4 foot 9 inches at 126 pounds meant there were some curves to that body. Not that she was overweight. Quite the contrary. Nimble and spritely movements belie just how much muscle control or strength she really had. Her movements are often that of a graceful gazelle. Turning everything she does into a dance almost. As if moving to a melody only she can hear. Often times she is dressed in muted mix match clothes. Browns, black, and tan leathers and pouches make up most of her attire. Dark brown boots stop just able of knees showing on her thighs while criss-cross belts rest on shapely hips. Always she is seen with a small bag of candies that she chews on frequently.

Likes:
1. sweats
2. being the center of attention
3. flirting with everyone

Dislikes:
1. being called out on her insecurities
2. being in a cage or cell
3. magic

Background:
Torlee didn't grow up like man orcs. Or dwarfs for that matter. Her orc mother and dwarven father met on the battle field. It was love after first blood. Each thinking the other had attacked first. When really it was someone who was trying to get both of them out of the way. It was only after there capture and joint efforts in escape that they learned the truth. Earning more than just respect for each over in the process. However a child was the last thing either of them had wanted or expected. So they did what they thought was right. Left her with the first half orc village and went on to there next misadventure. Yet being half orc and half dwarf meant she didn't even fit in there. Growing up was less then idea for the very undersized orc. Still she didn't let that get in her way. Growing a teen with a boisterous flirty personality. One full of mock confidence and a loner mentality.

The second she thought she was old enough, Torlee was off on her own trying to make it big. Only to find the rest of the world wasn't too excepting of a short dwarven orc either. But her size and agility did make her useful to a small group. Eager to be of use and accepted, she joined a small thieves guild. There she learned to sneak, hide, and pick pockets with the best of them. Showing promising talent with daggers and whips. It wasn't long before she was out using those skills. Misdirecting people with her flirtatious and taunting ways. However Torlee found herself way in over her head when the guild talked her into trying to procure a few things from a mage. Worst they left her high and dry to deal with the backlash on her own.

It was through her captivity that Torlee picked up a few new skills. How to make poisons for example. How to pick a lock and disarm traps. Her and her cell partner traded many tricks and secrets. The human had been incarcerated for killing. It didn't matter that it was to save her child's life. She was also Torlee's first real friend. They and spent many nights planning and preparing they're escape. Yet when the time came nothing went right. From the changing of the guards to the weather. So them getting caught in the middle of it all was no big surprise. What was a surprise, was the guard that attacked and ran the human through with his sword. Yes, it gave Torlee a chance to escape. However she never stopped hating herself for her friend's death.

Now a days Torlee roams from town to town. Taking any job that catches her eye. Befriending few people in the process. She put her knowledge of poisons to good use. Keeping a bag of tainted candies on hand at all times. Just because she sucks on a few doesn't mean they are safe for everyone. The price for her services depends on the about of fun she thinks she would get out of it.