.: Ryffitania :. {It Begins!}

[Bulbasaur4]

Ryfittania

It came swiftly and without any warning.
I awoke to the sounds of crying and instantly I was consumed with dread. Everyone was crying. Everyone was praying. “Please, let it not touch us. Please let it not touch them.”
But it had not grace or mercy. It infiltrated everyone of them.
They all died within four days.
I had a cough during the four days, but I did not know until my tears had run out and dried.

After a month some were still mourning. The world was still silently weeping but the sun still rose and set each day. The High Clerics held a counsel the other day, stating they had determined the cause of the deaths. A horrible disease which attacked the heart and brain.
“Why, why did it only affect the children?” A cry had rung out, but the clerics only shook their heads. They did not know but they told us that the other villages and cities had been plagued by the exact same disease. They were trying to find out how it came to be but they told everyone to pray often and move on with their lives. For the sake of the ones they lost, please move on.

I tried for two years to move on. I had not lost anyone but I was angry. No answers. No blame had been announced. Secretly the High Clerics continued to search and hired many others to search but they could not find answers. They were too busy healing, too busy trying to help the city, too incompetent to succeed.
There have been rumors amongst the streets that another plague is coming- and this one will take more than the babies now born. I want to find out. I want answers for it is clear to me this is no natural cause. The plague two years ago was created and I want to find the answers.

Then maybe the Clerics will realize there is more out there beyond their power. Maybe then the Cities will realize that differences in the world are not bad things. Then maybe the world can shake off its ignorance.
Because I have bigger plans than just solving a mystery.



Ryffitania.
A world far more expansive than those on the eastern half realize. Large cities dominate the Eastern half, but due to the Government run by the cities – travel is limited. You have to obtain a permit, which usually takes a year to obtain. Many of the people are content with their closed in lives, but there are a few that wish to explore the entire other half of the world that they read about in books. The other parts of the world are like little fairy tales… so much that one cannot help but wonder: What is really out there?

You are a resident of the city Tinnitlar. Your story is your own to decided, but one thing is certain: there is a need or rather an itch to get out of the city. Then one day, you stumble upon a note that strikes a chord with you.

If you want to leave this city, meet me at the city square at midnight.
~ Ren

Having no idea who this is leads you wondering how safe following those directions would be. Yet… this could be a chance of a lifetime.


NOTES ABOUT THE RPG
• This is a Mature RPG
• Everyone starts off being pretty normal. You have no magic unless you are a cleric from the temple, in which you have basic healing powers. Not everyone has to use magic. You can be really good at fighting like a warrior or stealthy like a ninja if you so desire. ^_^ People who desire magic will gain it later on.
• This RPG has D&D aspects.
• Everyone younger than 16 has died of the plague two years ago.
• [b]The time frame is pre-technology in the area you live in. Other areas may be more advanced. ^_^ Think fantasy, LotRish.


I will be playing the person whose view you read. She’s the one whose sent all of you a message.

THE CAST
Mei “Renegade” Oswen <F> Spirit Shaman – Bulbasaur4
Wake Ulrenhart <M> Detector – Heald
Raynel Sunn <M> Necromancer – Shizo
Boneca <M> Effigy Master – mystic_clown
Gio <M> Warrior – Polyhakuro-san
Dimitrius Valen <M> Sorceror – Dr. McNinja
Minoru Shohen <M> Streetfighter – Sworkill87
Zani <F> Monk – classy_cat18
Crimson “Drog” Lionet <M> Psion – Samchu
Jett Lionett <M> Seer – Crystal Tears
Anton Sumerechny <M> Twilight Magician – Weasel Overlord

Your class is what powers you will gain when we gain powers in the near future of the RPG. If you have questions about your powers or why I labeled your class as such, PM me. They pretty much are just labels for what you wanted. ^_^




Name: Mei “Renegade” Oswen
Age: Looks to be about mid to early twenties.
Gender: Female
Species: Hengeyokai <Hengeyokai are solitary creatures that usually associate themselves with nature. They have the ability to shift between looking human, to half human/animal and to a fully animal form. They’re quite rare because they tend to be nomadic. Mei’s animal form is a wolf.>
Appearance: Mei stands about 5’7 with a graceful slim build. He skin is an exotic tan color setting a stark contrast again her raven-black hair. Overall her hair is slightly wavy and reaches midway down her shoulder blades. Her eyes bring in the mixture of gold and black through her eyes, which are very wolf-like in appearance with an amber gold color shifting within her iris. Adorned upon her body is a light weight but elaborate silken top that cuts halfway around her chest, branching off to have small strings of fabric wrap about her shoulders to hold it up. The silken shirt she wears is a royal blue intertwined with a few golden-appearing threads that make it shine and glint. Upon her lower her half she wears two semi-transparent sheets of black and gold, with a final layer beneath the two transparent sheets of solid deep blue- all three forming into a short and easy-moving skirt. Beneath the skirt she wears a lower bikini-like top of black so not to embarrass herself with swift movements.
She wears sand-colored wooden sandals that tie up a good half a foot above her ankles with golden ribbon-like thread. Upon both ears she wears golden hoop earings and around her neck is a small piece of leather string wrapped about a circular piece of black stone. She also always has a staff tied on her back loosely. The staff has a simple piece of red ribbon attached to the top with a white feather.
Personality: Mei tends to be calm but has her moments of outbursts. She tries to think things through but sometimes emotional or spiritual feelings cause her to act quicker than she perhaps should. She doesn’t outwardly seem affectionate or caring, but if one probed her emotions enough they could see a few remnants of care within her- she just doesn’t like to openly show it too often. <bleh, weak personality I know but you’ll see more of it. >
Profession: Mei calls herself a Spirit Shaman, but most people view this as crazy. So instead she often goes to a few taverns or busy places and offers to read palms. She’s also been known to perform exorcisms, which is slightly frowned down upon by the High Clerics. She escapes their eye however.
Powers/Magic: Mei seems to have a sixth sense for sensing unearthly things- spirits, if you will. However, she doesn’t have any real power with them. <Yet.> Later on she’ll be granted the power of the spirits- contacting them, performing slightly druidic magic with an emphasis on the soul and spirit.
Relations: None so far. You’ve probably seen her once or twice though.
Other: BLECK

Mei Okami
Spirit Shaman | F

Mei brought a delicate finger to her chin as she stared at the man’s palm. She then made a tsking noise as she shook her head and let go of his hand.
“I’m sorry dear sir, but it appears your wife is cheating on you.”
“What?!” The man said loudly, making a few tavern dwellers turn to stare which quickly prompted the man to silence himself. Pursing his lips together he leaned forward towards Mei.
“How could you possibly know that?”
“It’s quite simple, really.” Mei retorted, raising her eyebrows as she grabbed his hand once more and pointed to a broken line within his love line. “This line signifies a great betrayal in your relationship, and the way its positioned means now. You’re far too enraptured in the girl to be cheating on her by the way you talk… so obviously she’s the one cheating on you.”
Within a matter of minutes a few silver pieces were tossed in Mei’s general direction. Softly she picked them off the table except for one, which she kept within her closed fist. Getting up from the chair she walked over to the bar and took out a clay jug.
“’scuse me….” She beckoned for the tavern owner, who coincidently also ran the bar.
“Could you fill this up with tea?” The man nodded as Mei handed him a silver. The man never spoke to Mei but rather always gave her an odd look that she could not quite decipher. She just came to the conclusion that he probably was a pompous jerk who thought he was better than her because he ran a tavern instead of telling fortunes. This was a common belief in Mei, who had a hard time thinking positive things of humans.
“Thank you.” She said curtly, taking her jug back once it had been returned and she attacked it around her waist. Exiting the tavern she turned her head to see another man performing odd magical tricks on the street. A few adults were watching, awing at a few of the tricks. Sooner than later however, if the man were to talk to them they seemed to get uncomfortable and leave. This was how life was in the city usually, however. If you weren’t an elite or someone who held a ‘respectable’ job; usually people then didn’t think very highly of you.
“Tonight will be different!” Mei thought with a smile upon her face as she walked through the streets. In a few hours the night sky would be thick and in only a few more hours with that, it would be the middle of night. Then those she had sent the letters would gather in the city’s center, where they could make way to leave.

~*~*~*~*~*~
Ryffitania
~*~*~*~*~*~

[Haruko]

Name: Goes by "Gio", dropped his surname a while back.(Was Gio Ackart)
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Species: Human; although some comment he eats too much to be one.. Silly Gio..
Appearance: Around 5'8" with dark brown hair that tends to get him called a girl(Hair like this, image credit to Random Curiosity.) and emerald eyes that are as calm as Gio himself. His body is a good bit built from doing security for his sister's tavern; all which hides his appetite(some say it's proportional to 3 towns worth of humans, but thats pushing it..) Wears a skin tight short-sleeved black shirt(it is of a fabric, but it's just skin tight on him) that gets him in trouble with the clergy - "You're showing off too much!", but it allows for easier movement when he fights off thieves; since his fighting style is very laid back. His pants are a bit less tight and are black with pieces of crimson red fabric sown in at the ankles by his sister to "improve style!".

When he travels he tends to wear a draped cloak over him thats of a pitch black.
Personality: Lax and a bit nonchalant, Gio tends to go about things with ease and take the shortest route possible to solve matters; even if it involves hurting himself. He tends not to show his emotions on his face; yet by his actions. You can also tell what mood he is in by how much he eats; some say..
Profession: Helps run a tavern with his sister, and also takes on various security jobs for people in town.
Powers/Magic: Is more towards a fighter-class, having no skill at magic. This is made up by his skill in fighting; he's very agile despite his looks.*
Relations:His NPC sister, Mirae, who he'll be leaving behind and he knows Minoru from the tavern; having fought (side-by-side) with him.
Other: Lost his parents as a teenager due to a house fire, he's been dependent on his older sister ever since. Perhaps this is why he wants to leave the city; so then she doesn't have to worry about him anymore(or so he thinks, of course.) Also seems to have a deep voice; which tends to dispel the rumor that he's a she once he talks.
Likes Spicy and Sweet foods the best; dislikes Sour foods!

//gio

"Oi, Gio! Where'd Mirae go?"A man with a grizzled beard looked at the one he called 'Gio'; a man with a slight built physique and hair that was a bit long to belong on a man's head. Gio looked over at him as the man placed some silver on the for some beer on the counter. Taking the coin and filling a jug to the brim, Gio handed it over to the man as a woman approached the counter; who seemed to be timid. He'd seen her a few times in the bar; always telling fortunes of the sort. Although he was curious as to getting his told, he never did.

“..scuse me….”She spoke up, and Gio glanced over to her. “Could you fill this up with tea?” Her hand placed a silver and a clay mug on the counter. He nodded, taking the jug and fixing the tea like Mirae taught him; although he wasn't as good as her. He handed the hot jug to the fortune teller as she thanked him, and let the tavern.

"Strange woman..so, where is Mirae?"The man from before asked again, and Gio sighed.
"She's out, groceries."He replied, keeping it brief. He was known as a man of few words, most of his sentences were small and to the point. Right when he had replied, however, he heard the door open in the back; signaling that Mirae was back with stuff for the tavern, and he could stop having to interact with people now. The only people he liked to 'interact' with was his sister and Minoru. And anyone on the other end of any blunt object that he was wielding at the time; but that was a different kind of 'interaction.'

"You can go and stand guard now, brother."Mirae said as she walked up next to Gio, who grabbed a blunt wooden pole that was located near him. It was something he found in an ally way; more than likely a piece to something, and he used it to beat up some one who was trying to steal money from another. Since then, he hasn't let go of it, besides the small chips in the wood. "Just don't scare anyone away.."

He nodded and left the counter, and leaned his back against the wall, watching the various patrons drinking, eating and talking. It was then that he remembered about the letter he got previously.

'If you want to leave this city, meet me at the city square at midnight.'. It read, as he could recall, and was penned by someone named 'Ren'. This city..all it did since the fire was remind him of his parents. He acted like everything was fine, but deep inside, he wanted to leave. The only way he didn't go insane until now was by fighting and his sister, Mirae.

"Mirae.."He whispered, remembering her. If he left this city, what would become of her? The tavern was in fine shape and she had plenty of help, he was only the brother; the leech to the elder sister. She'd be more than fine if he left the city. He looked at her as she waved meekly, and he looked at her happily. Another thing Gio was known for; was the fact that his face never showed emotion. As if it were frozen in time; the only thing that seemed to show it were the glimmers in his eyes.

'I'll go then..tonight.'He decided, looking at the dull peacefulness of the bar one more time, before sighing lightly.

Never have really done 3rd person, so sorry for the crappy-ness.

[Mystic_clown]

Name: Boneca
Age: looks in his twenties, but is really ten years old.
Gender: Male
Species: LebendePuppe < LebendePuppes are, in essance, living dolls. They can be made from a variety of substances, from stone, to metal, to flesh, to a combination. They are animated with magic thought judging by how they’re made, the LebendePuppe itself could have no magic powers. They’re viewed as abominations by the clergy.>
Appearance: Boneca stands at about 5’4 with a really thin build. His face is pale, yet youthful, handsome and flawless. He has wild, tangled read hair which reaches down to his chin.. His eyes are his most noticeable feature. They’re black with yellow corneas. While he looks human, underneath his clothes you can see the joint holding his limbs to his body. His right arm from the elbow is also wooden, yet he keeps this hidden under a gloves and his clothes.

As for clothes, Boneca’s clothes a couple of sizes too be for him. He wears a large gray coat, a red scarf (even though it’s not cold), a red undershirt, black baggy pants held up by a large brown belt with a copper buckle. He a gray glove on his right hand and a pair of brown shoes. A number of tools can be seen in the pockets of his coat.
Personality: Normally a happy go-lucky kind of person. He’s friendly and easy to get along with, though has some disdain for the clergy, especially after what they did to his “father”. He has a love for tinkering with mechanics and will usually be the first to volunteer for such tasks. He has a soft spot for children, and as a result, feels a deep sadness for what happened to them.
Profession: He’s a toy maker. Being in essence, a toy himself, he’s skilled at putting them together and fixing broken ones for the children.
Powers/Magic: I may edit this later. If not, I’ll leave it up to Bulbi.
Relations: none
Other: Created ten years ago with a combination of magics and materials, Boneca’s creator was hunted down and burned for dabbling in the forbidden arts used to create him. Boneca managed to escape and was never discovered by the clergy. Since that day, he’s been hiding what he truly is under his bulky clothes. Because of his appreciation for mechanical things and his love for tinkering, he became a toy maker for the children f the city.

Boneca
-----------------------------------

“And that should just about do it. Here you go,” Boneca smiled as he handed the small doll to the little girl standing at the counter. Looking over her doll, she gave the LebendePuppe a big smile.

“Thank you Mister Boneca,” she said happily before running off to her mother. Boneca smiled. There was just something about seeing a child smile that made him happy.

He turned to the small wind-up toy soldier he was working on before. He just needed to tweak these springs a little more and then he could start painting.

At that point, he noticed a little something out of the corner of his eye. A small piece of folded paper slid under one of his paint tins.

“What is this?” he muttered quietly to himself as he placed his tools on the workbench. He pulled the paper out, unfolded it and read.

If you want to leave this city, meet me at the city square at midnight.
~ Ren

Boneca stared at the curious letter. Who was this Ren? Why would he or she send him this note?

His curiosity finally got the better of him. It wouldn’t be long before Midnight, so he had to prepare.

From outside his shop, the open sign was flipped to closed.

[Dr.McNinja]

[color="orange"]

Name: Dimitrius Valen

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Species: Human

Appearance: Dimtrius wears a white button up shirt underneath a stylish black vest. His pants and boots are similarly black and high quality. Over everything he wears a long red coat that hangs to his lower calves. Atop his head is perched a wide-brimmed red hat, a single feather stuck in it to hang roguishly. When performing, or whenever the mood strikes him, he also wears a white mask, featureless except for the eye holes that reveal his strangely colored, yellow eyes. His facial features when revealed are handsome with a strong jawline and midlength, slightly curled red hair.

Personality: While performing, Dimitrius is the consumate magician, mysterious and charming with just enough of a distant, airy attitude to make his audience believe he is communicating with foreign powers. That his normal attitude is not much different makes this rather easy for him. Granted, he is less grandiose and pretentious but he has a tendency to seem like he is looking or thinking about something far away from the present location and can drift off into his own thoughts rather easily.

Profession: Dimitrius is an illusionist/magician who performs generally at a small storefront he owns in the city though he also takes hired jobs at whatever location the buyer desires. He is very skilled, performing seemingly impossible miracles, but he is frank to those who need to know that his skill is nothing more than slight of hand (he has shown how he does most of his tricks to representatives of the clerics to allay any suspicion on him).

Powers/Magic: When he gains his powers, Dimitrius essentially becomes a DnD Sorcerer. Since there likely isn’t a repository of real magic spells in the world he would essentially get new spells from the Magic itself or would just invent them himself as he controlled his spells. If needed I can make a spell-list for him.
It is interesting to note that Dimitrius’ mask changes as a result of his powers, features suddenly appearing on it mirroring the user’s emotions.

Relations: Dimitrius has had contact with Mei, mostly to assure the Palm Reader that he was not going to be a threat to her business with his magic shows as he does not involve any mysticism in them. Some clerics would know of him too since he had to demonstrate to them that his show was purely for entertainment.

Other: Dimitrius has a weakness for tea.


.imitrius Valen:.

Dimitrius held the piece of paper containing the man’s name, he was lucky to have chosen one of the literate people in today’s audience, and spoke in a deep, mastering tone, “A man’s name tells much about him, tells much about what may lie in his future. Shall we see what you’re name speaks of you my friend?”

The man seemed torn as if deciding whether he really wanted to or not. Dimitrius did not bother to wait for the answer to his rhetorical question and instead gave the paper a tiny shake. With an audible rush and a flash, the paper erupted into flames and burnt away almost immedietely. The man blanched at the site, the talk of his future and the sudden flames painting a grim image in his mind. Dimitrius however raised his now clenched fist out to the man, “A very powerful reaction my friend, truly a good sign. Your hand now if you please?”

A moment’s hesitation, and then a hand was hovering below Dimitrius’. The magician opened his hand, the silver piece held within falling into the man’s hands. The crowd gave an audible gasp even as the man’s eyes widened, “A prosperous future indeed if your name is any indication good sir.”


Clapping pierced the noise of the crowded street for a moment before those who had entered the tiny nook where his stand was placed began meandering away. Those who were impressed enough filed to the front and deposited a coin or two in the bin at the bottom of the stage. For his part Dimitrius swept off the stage into the small back area where he kept most of his supplies. The bin was trapped so that anyone actually reaching into it for anything wouldn’t be doing so twice so Dimitrius took the opportunity to relax. That fortune teller had happened by just when he was doing the Flame of Fate trick, what great luck. Oh well, she and he had come to an understanding a while ago, her being satisfied that he offered nothing but entertainment and a few moments respite from the hard work of the day.

A white mask dropped to a cushioned table as Dimitrius turned abruptly and walked out of the room. He stopped only to remove a few coins from his collection box, rather careful not to set off the trap, and strode over to the tavern where he sat in his favorite table near the fire and ordered a cup of tea. The sun was still hot in the sky, and already Dimitrius was impatient. A hand reaching into a pocket emerged with a sheet of paper, and the invitation inscribed within.

Quite the coincidence to find this at such a time...psh...as though I believe in such things

One thing was for certain, he would be at the meeting. A nook on a street, practicing sleights of hand for those who only appreciated the flashiness of it all...there was something else out there, something truly mystical he knew it. With a flash, the invitation burnt away like the paper before and Dimitrius turned his hand over to reveal the gold piece held within. Smiling, he drained his tea and stood and began walking back to his stand, the invitation still whole and safe within his pocket.

[Shizo]

This got long, so shall be divinded in two. Fun!

Name: Raynel Sunn
Age: 23
Gender: M
Species: Human (whee)
Appearance: He's thin, pale, and basically looks like the kind of guy who got shoved in lockers by the guys who were shoved in lockers. That's metaphorical, since I figure they don't shove kids in lockers in this world. They probably use chests and crates. With his rather ragged brown hair and dull grey eyes with bags underneath, not to mention the slight whimper that arises in everything he says, he's a wimp. Classic hero.
Personality: He's rather timid, self-depricating, and easily cowed by those he deems higher than him (which is most people) except on issues he's passionate about such as help those that he can aid which amounts, at the moment, to people with splinters and bad sunburns.
Profession: Cleric (newb)
Powers/Magic: He's a cleric, but he's always felt drawn to the necromatic and shadowy arts, not to mention the idea of shapeshifting due to reoccuring dreams of being a wolf in the woods. That's a lot more appealing than the reality of who he is.
Relations: Casual friends with Zani ever since an incident involving boots. Open, otherwise.
Other: He was rather sickly as a child, leading to his rather deathly palor. In fact, his family was rather surprised that he didn't die from the plague, even those he was over twenty. He was pushed into being a cleric by his family, mostly so he could support himself and provide his own medical care (his family isn't precisely rich, and he's a rather bankcrupting child). Also, he likes rats. There's one he's kinda claimed as a pet that's either really, really old or brain damaged. Or both (It walks into walls. Repeatedly).
Here's a pic of him, as well. 'Tis not the best.

Raynel Sunn
***************
It was past time for the midday meal, which was, he had heard, a seasoned roast, fresh bread and a large variety of fruit from a grateful partitioner with an orchard. The fruits were the main attraction, but Raynel had arrived too late to get anything beyond a bruised apple and some stray grapes. Not as though he was complaining. All the apple needed was to have the bruised part cut away, and he wanted just a small taste of the sweet grapes the man grew for, not wine, but eating. He ate the last of them with a smile as he turned another page in his book. He'd never get something like that at home.

He sat with his legs tucked up near his chest, his back resting against the wall behind his bed for support. His room wasn't the palace, but it was nice and warm in winter when the fireplace was lit and was deep within the stone of the temple so that the stones remained cool in summer. There was a chest for changes of the standard blue robe that was the uniform of the acolyte, though Raynel's used ones were more grey-blue, and there was a simple wooden desk and chair for writing. Most of the floorspace around his bed had been carpeted with books and discarded scribbled notes. Otherwise, the room was plain and functional, just as the higher clerics declared Brah, the god of Order and Balance, liked it. Raynel wouldn't have minded some other decorations besides the wooden staff in the corner and other clerical paraphenilia, but he couldn't think of what. Thus, the matter was left alone.

There was a knock on the door, which opened before Raynel could fully comprehend that he was supposed to put his book down and answer whoever was there. 'Whoever' turned out to be Fanah, one of the other acolytes.

"Oh, you're awake," she said in lieu of an apology for walking in unbidden. "Have you heard that Cleric Bestru has an opening in one of his classes? It's on astrology."

"I heard. He says it's filled already." Raynel didn't look up from the book, though he had stopped reading it to listen.

"Oh," Fanah said is a tone that suggested she knew otherwise. Raynel did, too. He wanted to learn, but what was the point? There was so much to learn in just one subject such as astrology, and he'd possibly be dead in a few months. No teacher wanted to waste their energy like that, and he certainly didn't want to waste their time. Raynel also knew, however, that Fanah had come in for something else. He just had to wait.

"Also..." He knew it. "I'm going out with the acolytes...some of my friends, and I have laundry duty today. Could you..."

"I'll do it for you, sure." Raynel said, giving a small smile to her. He had always liked Fanah, and her smile in return as she turned and left made him glad he had come here to become a cleric. A pretty girl like her would never be talking to him otherwise.

Actually, according to the chained emblem of the sun-moon of Brah, he was a cleric, though Raynel knew it was only in name. He needed to learn more to call himself that.

He put down his book of herbs and picked up one he had received from Zani, his unlikely friend from the monastery. It was a history of the various orders of monks that had populated the area, and it smelled of the dojo where Zani practiced: wood and sweat. He flipped through it to just admire its glossy pages; this was one of the older books in the monastery's collection, though had been well cared for through the years. A bit of paper fell out of it. Raynel picked it up and read.

If you want to leave this city, meet me at the city square at midnight.
~ Ren

What was this? Was it from Zani? No, not her handwriting, and it was signed by "Ren" to boot. Who was that? There was no Ren here. If one was at the monastery, he didn't know of his existence. And why was it in this book?

He put it aside from now and turned to the section on Zani's monastery in the book. However, no matter how interesting the read was, he found his eye wandering, every so often, to the small bit of paper with the cryptic message.

[classy_cat18]

Name: Zani (no last name)
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Appearance: 5'3", medium build and dark skin. Zani has amber eyes that stand out and black hair that is worn straight and shoulder length. Her clothing consists of a simple tan tunic and green pants, with leather shoes. She wears a leg pouch for shuriken and her crossbow is strapped to her belt when she carries it. Zani has strange tribal tattoos around her neck, wrists, and ankles of the same triangular pattern. And she has one big pattern on her back of a dragon spitting fire. She somehow can't remember how she got them.
Personality: Zani started out as a little "spitfire", according to her master and caretaker. She's now more controllable, but under the surface of calmness still rests the old Zani. When she's in a fight or other confrontation, she's calm, quiet and rational. But as the fight gets more intense she'll get excited and reckless, something that she's still training on getting rid of. Sometimes she'll spit out insults without even knowing, but rarely apologizes since she always means it. But she never starts unnecessary fights, and will help out anyone when she can without asking for anything in return.
Profession: Monk. Not having much to do with her abilities, she's stuck as security at a bookstore as well as doing various odd jobs.
Powers/Magic: *hopes she got research right* Zani is immune to most poisons, but the stronger ones will render her useless for a short time. She has excellent accuracy with her shots, good senses and agility. She has also been trained in hand-to-hand combat.
Relations: Her master and fellow monks, as well as Raynel who she met after a accident involving his shoes.
Other: Has a fondness for toys, although she doesn't own any. She appeared at the doorstop of her master's monastery (sp?) ten years ago, with no memory except of her name (it may not even be her real name).

"Again!"

"Hai!"

"Again!"

"Hai!"

Master smiled. "Very good. You are dismissed for today."

All of us lowered our quarterstaffs with a sigh of relief. Although it got easier, the drills only got longer. In the end, our muscles were still sore. Endurance was important.

Elam stood next to me as I shook myself off. "You seemed distracted today, sister. Are you feeling alright?" he asked me.

I smiled at him, not wanting to make him worry. He was always stressing over the smallest change in my behavior. "I'll be fine," I told him. "It will not interfere in my daily chores."

"Is it Raynel?"

I froze and laughed. "It's always Raynel, or some crook that I bump into in the streets." I put away my quarterstaff, my hand hesitating before letting go. I would soon leave it all behind. The dojo, the monastery, all my friends and my master. But it was for a good cause, even though it might be selfish. And it was my only opportunity, so I thanked whoever sent me the mysterious letter that appeared under my pillow this morning.

"Hey, Zani!" another monk shouted from the other side of the room. "I'll trade my chore for yours!"

My reflective mood was shattered. "Do it yourself, slacker!" I snapped at him.

My master cleared his throat, reminding me that he was still within earshot. "Zani? Do you need to be confined to your room for the rest of the day?"

"No, Master." I bowed low and left the dojo with Elam. The last thing I wanted to do was to hinder my plans for escape.

I'm not at my best today.

[Sworkill87]

Name: Minoru Shohen
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Species: Human

Appearance: Minoru stands at 5’ 11’’ tall. He has dark blue eyes and jet black hair that he keeps mostly slicked back, with a few strands hanging down. Nothing too fancy for his clothing, he wears a very worn, but comfortable pair of dark green pants. His sleeved shirt is of a silky black material and could almost be called a cloak. This is because it reaches near his knees and tends to billow out behind him, as Minoru rarely buttons it at all. This shows off his ripped abbs. One can tell from a glance that Minoru is very athletic; he has a very toned and well built musculature. I’ll draw him later.

Personality: Minoru is kind of the bad boy. He’s actually pretty intelligent, but he’s quick to action, so people usually don’t think he is. He isn’t one to follow rules that he doesn’t agree with, and he gets in a lot of fights. There is a set of morals Minoru has, but it really doesn’t take much to set him off. This all goes back to his family. The shohen family is actually very rich and influential. But Minoru feels “They’re all a bunch of pricks too concerned with their money to care about anything real.” Although they’re handy at getting him out of trouble, Minoru has essentially cut himself off from his family. His hatred of people like his family, and those in charge has also led him to hate the clergy, who he has deemed ignorant of most things in the world.

Profession: Street fighter. Minoru drifts through life on his parent’s money. He’s never needed to find a job, so he hasn’t. He gets in a lot of fights and usually takes the money from his defeated opponents.

Powers/Magic: Minoru’s powers will really just augment his purely freestyle fighting abilities. He will have notably increased strength and stamina, but it is his speed that will amaze people. Minoru’s speed and reflexes easily surpass that of any creature. Generally his movements are too fast for the eye to follow.

Relations: He doesn’t have any real friends, though probably knows Gio (given that’s ok with Haruko-san) as Minoru is apt to hanging out around taverns. There’s even a good chance that Minoru has fought with Gio. (Side by side that is.) Helping out as a makeshift bodyguard when things get rough, just for the fun of it… and ‘cause he’s a good guy at heart.

Other: Minoru has an odd affinity for small, fuzzy animals.



It’s Minoru!

“Tonight at midnight.” Minoru muttered to himself as thought about the note in his pocket. He was walking down a darkening street, not really paying attention to where he was going. The idea was so inviting; a chance to finally get out of this city, away from his idiotic family, and away from those damn high clerics who think they know everything. “Alright, I’ll do it.” Minoru said fully audibly this time, having stopped in the middle of a random alleyway next to three less than reputable looking teenagers. Two of them gave Minoru an odd look, apparently it wasn’t normal to stop randomly and talk to yourself. They started to laugh, but the third one spoke up in a hush voice.

“Shut up you guys.” He said with a frightful glance at Minoru. “Don’t you know who that is?

“Who cares?” One of the laughing punks responded, continuing to mock the contemplative stranger.

“That’s Minoru Shohen.” The others stopped laughing immediately.

“Minoru Shohen?”

“Toughest guy on the streets Minoru Shohen?”

“Uh, sorry Mr. Shohen…” One of them said while receiving a strong glare from Minoru.

“We didn’t mean any-” He stopped mid-sentence as Minoru took a single step toward him.

“That’s right.” Minoru muttered as all three of them scattered and ran away. “One of the perks of fighting on the streets,” He said looking around to see where he was. “You gain a reputation.”

After a little wandering, Minoru finally figured out where he was. “Alright, its Gio’s tavern, I guess I’ll hang out there till midnight.” It was then that Minoru spotted a small black kitten meowing hungrily near the tavern door. He walked over immediately, picked up the kitten, placed it on his shoulder and walked inside, passing a woman with a staff on her way out.

“Oi, Gio! We need some milk over here!”

[Weasel Overlord]

Name: Anton Sumerechny (Anton meaning “invaluable” and Sumerechny meaning “twilight” or “gloom”)
Age: 29 (since everyone else is early 20s, lol)
Gender: Male
Species: Light Other. Others are humans who have the ability to tap into the Twilight in order to gain supernormal abilities. Others are born with this ability, but it is often dormant until their destiny manifests itself, and they step into the Twilight for the first time. Their first visit into the Twilight decides what they will be from then on; if they enter with fear or hatred, they will be Dark, and love or happiness results in Light.
Appearance: Antosha (the familiar form of Anton : )) stands at just over 6 foot. He has dark brown hair, clipped short at the sides, but it’s slightly longer on top, and so he most often wears it swept up and back, out of his eyes. He has a very slight receding hairline, as men often do. His eyes are a reflective light brown, and topped by expressive eyebrows. Anton has pouty lips of gorgeousness, and he can pull off such a lost-puppy expression it just makes you want to hug him! (Well, I think so anyway!) He wears the plain and somewhat boring combination of jeans and a t-shirt, and can most often be seen wearing a navy blue-and-grey hoodie or jumper over the top to keep him warm.
Anton is lean but strong, and has a somewhat Russian cast to his features, as that is where he grew up. (Well, the Ryffitania version of Russia anyway, hehe) See the pictures enclosed for more details. And no being mean to Konstantin! He’s pretty! *growls protectively* And he’s mine too! Grr!
Personality: While Anton is a Light Other, he is extremely cynical about most things. He knows that the Dark is bad, and he accepts that sometimes to combat evil, the Light must do things that appear to be evil in themselves, but he cannot bring himself to enjoy doing this. Though he is totally cynical, he still has great capacity to love, and he feels it is his moral obligation to protect humans from the Dark, although he knows only too well how fine a line he can tread before his actions break the Treaty.
(Laaaame personality. More may be added later on, depending on what I feel like.)
Profession: Tinkerer. He has a knack for made things. ^_^
Powers/Magic: Twilight Magician. Anton can tap into the Twilight in order to affect the world around him. He can cast remoralisations (where he influences a human in order to make them a better person), he can cast small protections against the Dark, and he can reach the 3rd level of the Twilight. Any other specific powers are left up to le Kalah, save that he cannot heal or transform. He’s not a healer or a shapeshifter/transformation-mage, heh.
Relations: Any!
Other: Like an Other! Hahaha…
Piccytures! One Two Three Four Five

-----

Anton Sumerechny
into the gloom

The letter had come to me on a normal day. Like any other day, I was working working working, always looking towards the clock until twilight fell and I was able, finally, to go home. Although I love working with made things, it takes its toll on the back and eyes, make no mistake about that.

But yes, this letter. Or should I say note, as it was only one line long. I don’t think a sentence can be counted as a letter, really. So; this note. All it said was that if I wished to leave the city, I should meet the sender – a Ren, whoever that was – at midnight, in the city square. Now, make no mistake, I wanted to leave. It’s just that all my life I’ve been a cautious person, and so I decided that I would go and see this Ren. But first, I would determine the character of her – or him – before making my decision to leave.

All I had with me in the shop was my tools and the clothes I was wearing, but I felt that they would be enough. Something about this whole note business felt right, somehow. It felt as if it were something I was meant to be doing. But you never can be too careful, and so as I left my workplace for the evening, I called up my shadow with a whisper and stepped into first level Twilight with a rush of breath. My first entry to that place always took my breath away, especially if I’ve not been using my powers in a while.

I gazed around, noting with displeasure the new growths of the parasitic blue moss on the buildings. I didn’t have time to get rid of them now, and I growled at the organism as I passed it on my way to City Square. That damn weed feeds on the emotions of the humans in the city, but I can’t spend all my time killing it, or I’d be swallowed up by the Gloom, body and soul. I had to be satisfied with taking a little with me, a bit at a time, or risk being too weak to leave the dark place in which I walked.

I took a look around me to get my bearings – the city looks a different place indeed in the Twilight – and noted that I was stood outside an inn of a good reputation. Since I knew that I could not possibly spend all of the remaining hours until midnight lurking in the Twilight, I cautiously checked around me for and signs of humans, and called up my shadow once more, stepping out of the gloom as if it were some sort of viscous fluid. It’s always harder to leave than it is to enter; the Twilight feeds off our energy and life, it would keep me there without a second thought if I let my guard down for even a second.

I materialised back in the human world right outside the door and reached out my hand to grasp the solid wood. I always needed some sort of anchoring to the human world after any time in the Twilight, and the rough grain of an oak door served its purpose wonderfully, giving me the strength to be seen in public once more.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed at the door and strode inside, the sudden warmth of a heated room washing over me pleasantly. I took a seat in a shaded corner and pulled up my thick hood to aid my plans of solitude.

When one of the serving women came over, I ordered a single glass of cognac and sat back to await midnight and the changes it would bring.

[Shizo]

Since no one's posting, I'm putting the second half of my first post.


Raynel Sunn
*************
If you want to leave—

He put down Zani’s book and picked up another one off the floor, Modern Heretics. He opened it to the first page.

this city, meet me—

He abandoned that book for another that he pulled randomly from the floor. This one was one he was actually supposed to be reading. Too bad it was boring. He opened it to the first chapter, anyway. “The Origins of the Church of Brah Part I: The People Call For the Support They Need.”

at the city square—

Another book tossed to the side. The next book was random, as was the page he opened it to. “Every minute that we refuse to love one another, another puppy cries another tear….”

at midnight.
~Ren

It was getting close to night now. The fourth and final book was laid to rest. What should he do? In truth, he had no idea. So he turned to something one of his earlier tutors had told – or ordered – him to do when he was faced with this sort of situation, one where he was face with two choices that he couldn’t choose between.

He went over to his desk, pulled out a piece of paper and a stick of graphite, and divided it into two columns lengthwise. Then, he labeled the two columns.

Reasons to go | Reasons to stay

The next hour was spent pacing around his room. Occasionally, he’d stop and sit back down to stare at the paper. He got out a bag at one point and began packing it. He then unpacked it, then packed it again. It became an odd ritual, constantly sorting out what he thought he would need, then deciding against it. The hour after that hour was spent doodling on his list, with periods where he would just stop and stare at the cracks in the wall. He discovered that different parts of his desk had different pitches if you tapped them and started composing songs.

It neared midnight. He started pacing again but suddenly stopped, stuck with inspiration. Picking up the graphite stick again, he began to write, but abandoned his writing instrument for a quill. He looked down on his handywork, smiled, picked up his packed bag, swung a cloak around his shoulders, slipped on his emblem of Brah over his head, tucked that under his shirt, and picked up his staff. Quietly, he opened the door and left the room and the list behind.

Reasons to go | Reasons to stay
No reasons to stay

[Crystal Tears]

Sorry it took me so long. ^_^'''

Name: Jett Lionet

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Species: Human

Appearance: Nearly identical to his brother Drog, Jet looks younger and a bit happier. He stands at exactly six feet and has a deep tan. His eyes are a deep oceanic blue coloration, while his hair is a in a shaggy cut and is golden blond with brown roots for some reason. His body is lean built, exactly like his brother’s, though his brother might be a bit more buff then he is. For clothing, Jet tends to wear a loose and comfortable black vest with a white, expensive looking tank top underneath that’s bottom is lined in a soft blue. He wears black long shorts (is that a term…?) with numerous blue chains hanging off them and many (three) silver studded belts hanging criss-cross on his hips. Why? No one knows, but they look good for some odd reason, as does he. On the back of his vest is an emblem of shards of a sword and its hilt by a stone.

Personality: Jett, unlike his brother, is carefree and really hasn’t grasped the idea of responsibility well. He’s a nice enough guy, and knows his manner, but sometimes he can come off like a jerk and seem not to care. He also quite confident, almost on the verge of being cocky, but his brother’s cynical and dominating nature over him tends to keep him inline. He loves to joke around and usually takes nothing seriously. Jett is also a firm believer in having fun before you die.

Profession: Artist

Powers/Magic: He’s quite adaptable and skilled with Arcane magic like Conjuration and Divination (Are we allowed to get this specific? If not, then just Arcane magic…). Though, Jett can’t really control the magic when he’s apart from Drog (Longer Drog is away, the worse it gets)

Relations: Younger brother of Drog

Other: Lost a sister (Ameena) to the disease, and wasn’t there when she died. Thus, Jett and Drog’s relationship has been unstable and aggressive towards each other.

Jett Lionet

"Three silvers."

"Four."

"Damn it all, I said three."

Jett was in engaged in a staring contest with a stuck-up aristocrat. Others had glanced at the two quickly before moving on, and were impressed to see someone of Jett's stature standing up against such a fiend of a man. Jett Lionet was a local artist, he was quite good; though he lacked the 'terms' many others knew. He didn't much care for the fancy lingos and definitions of what techniques he used, he just loved art. This aristocrat had tried to use that against him, yet the upstart townsman found that the smirk, which Jett had started the conversation with, stayed. And it all came down to the fact that the picture belonged to the artist, and thus he could decide the price.

"Four, or I'll take it else where."

Grudgingly, the rich man finally broke. He handed over one gold coin and four silvers. A nice price, though it was a bit much for this particularly panting, Jett tended to take advantage of such things. That man, who had promptly slammed his door after hastily grabbing the piece of artwork, was rich and from what the blond could tell, unaffected by the disease that had swept the city two years ago. If the buyer had been someone of his own standing, he would've gladly lowered the price to something more reasonable.

Two years ago, he would've given some away for free.

But those days were gone now, and Jett could turn in. All his paintings were gone and the old man who owned the cart he occasionally borrowed had taken it away with a friendly 'have a nice day sonny' or what not... Jett shrugged, the coins jingled in his pocket, today had been a great day. He had money, money no doubt Drog would want to sap from him after accusing his little brother of 'withholding'.

"Oh yes, I was withholding..." He groaned in a mocking voice. "Could he just accept that my artwork is actually decent?" came the murmur as he fiddled with the note he had found tucked away into the back of one of his canvases.

If you want to leave this city, meet me at the city square at midnight.
~ Ren




He tucked it away into his pant's pocket before disappearing into the back alleys. Here he would follow numerous routes and 'hidden' walkways until he reached the tavern, which sadly, was where he had to report to every day and every night. Drog was a bore; he was cynical, dry and well... To sum it up: an awful human being. Of course, Jett's opinion was biased, ever since Ameena had passed away two years ago, Drog and Jett had never gotten along.

So much, that Jett had begun referring to Drog by his real name, Crimson.

As Jett entered the tavern, he began to realize its overall atmosphere never changed. It was a weird mixture of gloomy and cheerful, only because so many people had different tales to tell.

Jett Lionet didn’t have a tale, and even if he did, he wasn’t going to set it loose into their tavern.

“Jett!”

He turned, seeing his brother wave him over. He could see the scowl on Crimson’s face, and how annoyed he was for Jett not checking in at noon. Jett let his confident smirk appear on his face as he approached the counter and looked at his brother.

“Yessum?”

“What time do you call this?”

The artist looked around the tavern and shrugged.

“You were supposed to home hours ago. Where the hell have you been?”

“Working.”

“Working? And how much did you earn working?” Crimson snarled, he had never approved of Jett’s profession and made it known.

Jett grinned, reaching into his pocket; he brought out numerous silver and gold coins and smiled coolly at his seething brother. “More than you probably.” He snapped his hand back with the coins as his brother attempted to take them. “Now now dear brother, I earned this myself. They’re mine.”

There was a brief moment of silence between the two, Jett was surprised. His brother looked ready to explode; he could practically see the steam shooting from his ears.

“Dammit Jett, stop being so childish and hand it over. Do you know what we could do with that money?”

“Of course I do,” The younger man swivelled around and shoved the coins into his pocket once again. “But unfortunately, none of that is worth my interest. I will, however...” He paused and flipped his brother a gold coin. “Pay for next weeks groceries.”

Crimson tucked the coin into his back pocket. "Not worth your interest huh? Sure, I can see how having a roof over your head and clothes on your back wouldn't be worth your interest. Hell, why don't you just go sleep naked in the street tonight and tell me just how uninteresting it is.”

Jett smirked wickedly at his brother; flipping another gold coin in front of his face. “You’re just being sour because I’m the one who has the coin, not you.” He snatches the gold coin from its midair twirl and turns away. “You’d waste it on things we don’t need; medicine for a cold we don’t have, flowers for someone who doesn’t need them...” He pivoted about, glaring at his brother. “You look down on me and my profession, yet you expect me to respect you.” He chuckled, and shrugged. “I’m sorry, but it just doesn’t work that way.”

"Everything has to be about you, doesn't it? You don't give a damn as long as it’s your belly that's full and you’re covered. Heck, you probably didn't even remember that it was Ameena's birthday yesterday; wouldn’t surprise me if you couldn't have been bothered to be with her for that either."

Jett felt something sting in that sentence, but he didn’t let his confident smirk fade, his glare however grew all the more threatening.

“Honestly Crimson, if I had that sort of attitude, I wouldn’t have friends. And I do; a lot of them. You however, don’t. As I recall, you’re the one who gives off the impression of being a pompous pig.” He smiled as his bother wavered, knowing it was true. Jett walked away than, heading for the door before stopping to say one last thing to his brother. “Oh; and Crimson?”

He heard his brother grunt.

“Don’t ever bring Ameena into an argument.”

Jett Lionet exited the Tavern, and then disappeared into the alleyways.