The Fellowship: Abandon (Sign Ups)

[Crystal Tears]

The Fellowship
Abandon
By Crystal Tears and Pichu Luver

Arakan’s history is long and dark, throughout the ages many things have been lost to the seasons and the very soil you walk on.

The world once shook from the might of magic and men, with wars tearing scars into the land and obliterating civilizations.

A millennium has passed since that time, and the world’s wars are now fought in shadow. The Order of Nabrius Guardians vies for control of the population. Slowly their influence spreads northwards, and with it, fear and belittling of the peoples.

Yet a war cannot be without two sides. The Fellowship, an organization of assassins formed long ago in the north, fights for freedom. In the secluded mountains of Calahein, the fortress of Eden is built into the face of the tallest mountain. It is there new assassins are trained, and where the Matriarch guides her brethren against the shrouded Chancellor, leader of the Guardians.

Welcome to the Fellowship.

Bound by a solemn vow of allegiance, you fight for freedom.

You hunt from the shadows and darkness, watching and waiting for the precise moment. To strike, to steal, to threaten; whatever is needed you do. The average person knows nothing of this war for their freedom, and they never will.


Your creed is thus:

Seek the truth, liberty for all.


You follow these tenets:

Slay not the innocent.

Hide in plain sight.

Never compromise the Fellowship.

1) This RPG is different than the others; you will receive PMs regarding your target. You are then responsible for posting a response that follows the basic instructions of your PM or ‘scroll’ with your target. Depending on your accuracy to the orders and your characters own skill and personality, you will be rewarded.
2) It is possible to get a scroll targeting another player; however, this scroll will never say to actually kill the opponent. Rather, the player, when they feel it is appropriate, will post their attack on the opposing player. The opposing player will have 24 hours from that initial post to respond with their defense. If no response is given, the target loses, and is punished for such a loss, and the attacker is rewarded. If the target defends his or her self, neither player is rewarded or reprimanded. Remember: assassins must always be on their guard.
3) You can be any race you would like, the only rules is your species must be humanoid and not too ridiculous. Arakan is home to many species, however, every race other than Human are small in number. Also, when it comes to elves, please PM me with your idea. I have some plans for that particular race.
4) There are three ranks: Novice, Apprentice, Journeyman. These are assigned by me, below is an example of a contract scroll, you must PM me your take of it (it doesn’t have to be long), and from there I will judge it and decide your ranking. Novices are not permitted to leave Eden unless on special order, they must study and answer scrolls that usually target other players or certain scenarios. Apprentices are just beginning in the field, they are often assigned to Journeymen who will assist them in their studies and watch over them on contracts. Journeymen are the standard assassin, they sometimes has apprentices assigned to them and get increasingly difficult contracts in hopes of becoming promoted to Master.

Assassin,
Monte has betrayed the Fellowship.
Traitors must be dealt with, swiftly.
Resolve the issue before he leaves Eden.
It must be simple, clean and quiet.

The World: Arakan is comparably the size of Tolkien’s Middle-Earth. Nabrius is to the south, and is the home of the Guardians, so the most southern regions of Arakan will have a definite Guardian feel. The far north of Arakan is sparsely populated; the only notable thing is the Calahein and the Fortress of Eden within the mountains. To the east is a boiling volcanic wasteland known as the Scar, which is far too toxic and unforgiving to support life. Old elven ruins are scattered throughout the magma and brimstone. To the northwest is a collection of five lakes, each a slightly different colour of blue, called the Sylantos Lakes. While they vary in size they are all perfectly circular, and they are bordered by an old growth forest up to the mountains. Arakan is home to odd geological formations and old world ruins all around. It is really up to your imagination what you can find.

Arakan has had a bad experience with magic and witchcraft, magic itself is taboo and not many practice it. For that reason mages are rare, and none have been seen in a long time.

Navinath, the ruined city of the Arcana-Elvuun, is to the east, bordering on the Scar.

More places will be added if/when people create them.


Name:
Age: Nothing ridiculous, you can’t be a great assassin as a child for example. The max age is 400.
Gender:
Race: You can create the race you which to play, but please note that the most common race is humanity. If you part of another race, you’re population is significantly less than humanity.
Rank: Do not fill this out. When you PMing me the RP sample, you may request what rank you would like (Novice, Apprentice, Journeyman).
Origin: This is where in Arakan you’re from. Feel free to make it up.
Personality:
Appearance: Somewhere, the falcon sigil of the Fellowship must be seen. It doesn’t have to be obvious, but it must be there. The Guardians do not know the symbol of the Fellowship, so don’t worry about it giving you away.
Chosen Weapon: Everyone has a hidden blade, much like the ones in the Assassin’s Creed game. Past that, your preferred weapon is whatever you would like, but let’s not have too many of a certain weapon. Technology wise, I would compare it to World of Warcraft. Magic does not play a large role in this game, so if you have a staff, do NOT expect to be flinging fireballs and the like. Magic in Arakan is closer to Lord of the Rings.
History: Well? Explain yourself. As little or as much as you’d like.
Relationships:
Other:



Name: Ashlara Stormfang

Age: 231

Gender: Female

Race: Ashlara is an Arcana-Elvuun – commonly called the Arcane Elf, a type of Elf heavily influenced by old world magic. Genetic traits for her race are astounding beauty, blond hair, glowing eyes, long pointed ears and a youthful appearance. A lesser known trait of her race is their need for pure mythraal mist: a rare type of liquid infused with the ‘taint’ of old elven magic. The Arcane Elves are a dying race, with only a few ‘true bloods’ left, if it wasn’t for their immortality to age, they would have died out centuries ago. Arcane Elves are often distrusted and hated for their blatant use of magic; they’re the only race notable for ignoring the taboo and unwritten laws regarding practicing the arcane arts.

Rank: Matriarch

Origin: Navinath – the Arcane Elf home city, its fallen into ruins after have a millennia ago. Since then, it has gotten worse, though it retains its beauty, no one can help but notice it looks like old world ruins guarded by enchanted golems and rather reclusive, agitated elves. Many races are absolutely forbidden from entering Navinath, for fear of another crusade against the hated magic-users.

Personality: Ashlara is the youngest recorded true blood of the Arcane Elves. She seems to have retained some of their notably hated personality quirks: she’s reclusive, often choosing to hide in her study or her quarters rather than mill about with the other assassins. She’s secretive, her intentions are never clear. She’s very intuitive, quick-witted, persuasive and charming. Despite her reclusiveness, Ashlara is not by any means shy, she’s not afraid of interaction or confrontation. She’s charismatic, proud, and confident in her abilities. Any weaknesses she has, she hides. She also notably hates humans with a fiery passion, so her normal controlled temper can flare at humans presenting her with ignorance or plain stupidity. Otherwise these traits just result in sarcasm and mild annoyance.

Appearance: Ashlara Stormfang holds true to her races most notable trait: beauty. She has light golden hair, with fair skin. Her body is lithe and athletic, with seemingly no scars on it; this is a result from drinking mythraal, where it will heal superficial wounds and keep the body looking pristine. Her eyes glow a bright red color.

Ashlara doesn’t wear the typical white robes of the Journeymen, Apprentices or Novices. Her armor is a charcoal black, with silver engravings and accents. Her breast plate simply holds her bosom, and provides no protection for her exposed collar bone area, lower chest and abdomen. She has shoulder plates in the design of falcon’s head, with a slightly curved horn rising from either bird’s forehead. Spawning underneath them are white tail feathers from some sort of bird. Her gauntlets are slimmer them most, and the fingers have a slight sharpened, curving point to them, perhaps for close encounters. Her pants are leather, fitting rather tight; on the sides of them are criss-crossing stitching of silver cord. Her boots have a riding boot look to them, and have charcoal protective armor plates strapped onto them usually. The final part of her mission or presentation attire is a crimson cloak with silver embroidery and trimming, the hood, which she usually dawns, has slits in it to accommodate her long ears. The cloak itself has a beautiful sigil of a falcon on it, the symbol of the Fellowship.

When she’s not in this attire, she wears a simple white cloth tide around her breasts and similar pants to her armor gear and the same points, a long necklace with an orange stone pedant on it, a signet ring she uses to seal contract scrolls and to sign things.

Chosen Weapon: Ashlara’s own hidden blade is a bit crueler in appearance then others. With smaller teeth on the blade’s edge, it’s not really meant for a clean kill but a rather painful one. Her bow, which is her speciality, is a family heirloom for centuries. It’s upper and lower limbs look like a dragon’s wing (covered in scales of black and ‘skin’ of red), the middle portion containing the riser, handle and shelf are far more elegant and traditional: a dark wood with silver etching that turns to the dark red and black of the ‘dragon’s wings’, though most of the center of the bow is hidden behind a small shield with the crest of Navinath: a dragon made of red and gold, the curving point of the ‘shield’ covered both Ashlara’s bow hand and the tip of the drawn arrow.

History: Ashlara Stormfang comes from a long line of devoted Arcane Elf mages. Most of her line was killed in purges past, or even assassinated, but whether it was ordered by the Fellowship or just a hired killer from the south is unknown. Ashlara has one brother, someone who has chosen to live in the south and send her coded messages about the Guardians activities. Ashlara joined the Fellowship after her father’s brutal murder at the hands of what she believes was Guardian loyalists. She was 164 at the time, and was skilled at combat already. Though she rose quickly through ranks, she sat at the rank of Master for a long while until the death of Umbada Ros, an old Satyr who had been Primearch for years. At the age of 220 she assumed control of the Fellowship and has been guiding the order ever since. Though not as kind as Umbada, Ashlara is fair.

She has only just recently returned to Eden, having travelled back to Navinath via Waystone on personal matters. She had been gone for the better half of year, giving orders and receiving information via scrolls, letters and other discrete forms of communication. She won’t discuss why she left, just that she’s returned and the matter has been dealt with.

Before she was part of the order, Ashlara was a Ranger for Navinath. Rangers are used to gather intelligence for the Arcane Elves regarding other species and politics.

Relationships: Friends with Karen, good friends with Crowley - sometimes asking his advice on matters, and technically owns Dia.

Other: Ashlara has a pet falcon named Volt, Volt is notorious for keeping an eye on the other assassins. He’s also known to cause problems for novices and apprentices at times, often making their tasks more difficult then they should be. He’s pure black, with violet eyes.

[Mystic_clown]

Name: Warwick Telbrew
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human...well...at least he was BORN human. Due to repeated experimentation on himself, it's hard to consider whether he's still human or not.
Rank: To be editted
Origin: Irona - What could be considered the technological center of Arakan. In this bustling city, up and coming scholars, inventors, and other creative individuals gather to try and make their mark. Gears, cogs and pipes are a common sight around the city, as well as scrap from numerous failed inventions.
Personality: Warwick is a rather quirky individual. He spends all his free time studying and continuously working to improve his already formidable poison making abilities. So, naturally, you could find him either studying or experimenting. It's really best if you don't talk to him while he's doing the latter. He's not really anti social, as he'll speak to you when spoken to, just don't expect him to come to you first. He seems to have a rather unsettling lack of fear regarding his concoctions, willing to even experiment on himself. Whenever he gets an idea, he goes for it with manic zeal. Due to his intellect, he tends to look down on those who don't know what he's talking about, often throwing very subtle insults at them.

However, on a mission, his personality changes completely. He's calm, polite, even charismatic at times. He's highly intelligent and patient, willing to spend days on a perfect assasination. He's even charming at times, a skilled conversationalist. This is such a drastic departure from his regular personality that it makes one wonder if he has split personalities, due to his experimentation. Such a thing may not be far from the truth, though nothing's been confirmed.
Appearance: Warwick is a rather slim young man, standing shy of six foot in high with a slim build. His skin, from what can be seen, is a slightly pale complexion, due to lack of sunlight. His hair is an oily black, and falls rather messily down to his chin, normally unkempt unless he's on a mission which demands neatness. His eyes are a rather unnerving gold colour, a result of his experiments.

While on some occasions he wears the white robes most members of the Fellowship wear, he only does so for presentation purposes. For every other time he wears a more, in his mind, practical outfit. He tends to wear full body studded leather armour, completely covering his body from the beck down. Despite what one may think, he is able to move about fine in it and he can take the heat of it quite well. He wears a pair of brown, steel toed boots, and a pair of pretty bulky leather gloves, though if a mission calls for it, he tends to swap them for a pair of thinner looking gloves. While he doesn't have a seal per se, he does have the symbol of the falcon on the back of his gloves. Interestingly enough, beneath his clothes are numerous banadages, covering the scars that cover his body.
Chosen Weapon: Like everyone else, Warwick has a hidden blade, though his tends to be thinner, almost similar to a needle. He tends to have this covered in a light coating of poison at most times. His main weapons though, are the poisons and toxins he makes. These can vary from simply fluids one can slip into food, to noxious, poisonous fumes which attack the targets insides when inhaled and even to light forms of acid.
History: Warwick was one of the many chemists who dwelled within Iona. After all, machinery wasn't the only thing developed there. Medicines and potions were always being concocted as well. Though while most focused their attentions on concoctions that would benefit the drinker, there was always a small, dark market for chemicals to kill. And that's the market Warwick catered to. His reasons for this are unknown. Power? Money? Or just the opportunity to dwelve into a rarely explored field? Who knows, for Warwick has yet to reveal this reasoning. He began creating numerous poisons and toxins to do away with men and beast alike. Whenever there wasn't any subjects around, he would go so far as to test these concoctions on himself. This resulted in his numerous scars, as well as giving him a major resistance to poisons.

However, his experimentation would be put on hold when Guardian influence came into the city. Naturally, a man of his profession might have some trouble with them. Rather than risk them coming down on him, he packed up and left under the cover of darkness, choosing to stay out of civilisation for the time being. After all, being a poison maker would make a guy less than popular. It was during his wandering that he, completely by accident, stumbled upon the Fortress of Eden. Seeing this as a chance to use his talents without fear of reprisal, Warwick was more than happy to join the Fellowship.

[Will edit more in depending on rank]
Relationships: Open
Other: Due to his self experimentation, his body has become farely resiliant to poisons.

[Master Rudy]

Do my eyes decieve me or is this an RPG that has taken elements from three series I really enjoy? (Warcraft, Assassin's Creed and Lord of the Rings) :O

I'm going to have to keep an eye on this. I'm thinking of posting a sign up. Just not too sure yet as I haven't been spending much time on TPM as of late. Oh and remember one thing:

Nothing is true, everything is permitted......

[Weasel Overlord]

My signup is about 75% finished~! It will be up tonight (along with my RP example I reckon), and I had a question about whether my weapon will be allowed (although I mentioned it when we were discussing last week, so I think you've said yes already? *paranoid*)

in other news: YAY EXCITEMENT sdgdbg,ndgbm

[Crystal Tears]

*appears*

Ben, you're accepted. :3

In regards to rank, everyone's rank will be revealed before the actual RPG starts.

You're not being deceived! Those are the three main elements contributing the RPG. I hope you join, the more assassins, the more fun we're going to have. :3

If your idea is still the same, it should be alright. Either way you'll find out when you sign up? o: ♥

[Weasel Overlord]

disclaimer: this character is in no ways or means influenced in any way by Supernatural and its canon and you cannot prove otherwise so there

Name: Fergus J. Crowley
Age: 350 (this be approved, yo!)
Gender: Male
Race: Demon – previously a human, Fergus became a demon after not very long a time being tortured after his death. Demons are long-lived, but they have no vessels of their own – in their natural form, they are a sort of pillar of black smoke – but this is never seen. They can basically choose their vessels by possessing them, and can therefore take the form of any race. However, this is a one-time occurrence only; once a vessel has been possessed, the demon cannot switch until that particular vessel dies, which almost never happens. Basically, they're stuck inside their vessel pretty much for as long as they can make them survive. It is rumoured that demons have black eyes, or some other unnatural colour, that shows when they're stressed out or scared, but Fergus has never given anything away to this effect, so the rumour is as of yet unproven.
Rank: [tba]
Origin: Shrouded in mist, for the most part. But his human self was originally from a now-non-existent village in the North called Tamien, and his vessel was a city-dweller from Kalakaan in the West, the centre of gun technology (in a Kalakaanos' opinion, anyway).
Personality: First and foremost, Fergus is a snarky bastard. He uses sarcasm so frequently that it could be said to be his second language. He is also over-fond of nicknames, and will have at least three for everyone he comes in contact with (not always complimentary ones). He's very much a "save your own skin first" type of man; he's cautious, careful, and above all professional. If there's one thing he loathes it's unprofessional people, and this has been known to bring him out in a rage. He takes pride in his work, although he comes across as a slippery, untrustworthy sort of guy, he actually keeps his word to the letter with only one stipulation: if it should happen to endanger his own life in any way, shape or form, he will not hesitate to sell your arse out to save his own.
He is essentially a good sort, although prickly on occasion and quite selfish. He will stick by his friends (few though they may be), as a sort of insurance on himself – having friends is a wise choice.
Most of his decisions and even his interactions with other people are driven by something ulterior – whether it's making a friend, getting closer to a mark or simply for his own betterment. Not to say that these motives are all bad, just that he's rarely a things-are-as-they-seem sort of guy.
His pride in his work drives him to be a perfectionist, and his capabilities stem from this desire to be the best; his training is extensive (helped of course by his superior age), and it shows. He knows his longgun intimately, and his knife even moreso to the point that some have commented that his relationship with his weapons borders on the disturbed. He would laugh at this, and smirk, but neither deny or accept the accusation.
His friends are allowed to call him Crowley, and frequently do.
Appearance: Fergus is 5'10", dark haired with rich brown eyes. The hair on his vessel is somewhat of a sore spot, since he happened to possess the body of a guy with a receding hairline. He has quite a strong jaw, although it's hidden by permanent stubble, and his mouth is most often seen with a barely perceptible smirk at the corner, as if he's laughing at some sort of filthy joke in his head. He has a very effective angry face, and a habit of glaring quite terrifyingly at people who've angered him. Basically, he looks like a middle-aged human male (on account of that's the body he possessed), and he has crows feet when he laughs, dimples when he smiles a genuine smile and a ferociously wrinkled forehead when he's pissed off.
Fergus is middling-build – he's nowhere near skinny, but also carries a bit of weight and quite an amount of muscle, especially around the upper arms from his longgun-work.
He favours black dress for the most part, although when he's on a job he will take on a paler sort of shadowy grey colour with a hint of green, so as to better fade into the shadows. He takes quite a bit of pride in his appearance, his robes and armour are kept immaculately clean and in perfect condition (he would never risk an injury from his own laxity). He wears a single cuirass of reinforced leather, topped off with a gorget of the same material at his throat (he's seen far too many people with slit throats to leave off this part – and dealt most of them out himself, for that matter) that seems over-tight, but he likes it that way. He wears a pair of vambraces at each wrist, plated with dulled metal, but shuns any other armour for both his arms and legs, preferring to focus on speed and agility. The armour he does wear is supple with age and fitted perfectly to his body like a second skin. The mark of the Fellowship is in the centre of his gorget, just where the dip of his throat is.
Underneath his armour, he wears simple cotton as padding, in shades of grey or black, but as smart and professional as it can possibly be, and a belt across his hips, a pouch at the left where he keeps the rounds for his gun. His boots are long (knee-high), the same supple, worn leather as his armour, and they hug his legs like a second skin (again). Atop, he wears a black heavy woollen greatcoat while not on a mark. It's thick and warm, and goes down to mid-calf in length.
For formal occasions, and also when on a job, he replaces the greatcoat with the traditional robes and cloak over the top of his armour and usual garb. They are trimmed to be a lot less flappy than their counterparts worn by his fellow assassins, as he can't abide anything that could jeopardise his missions.
Chosen Weapon: Longgun (Colt) – this is his main weapon, and is in type a long rifle. It has a meticulously cared-for scope mechanism, a section for clipping on his assassin blade that is all his own, and finally, a modification to dampen the noise on the thing which has taken hundreds of years to perfect. It's still not one hundred percent, but there's sure as hell a lot less noise when he shoots it than there previously was, as Fergus himself can attest to.
The Colt itself is an elegant weapon; its barrel is darkened grey with patterns etched into it as they are etched into the bullets (sort of like a calling card, but one which gets so marred in transit that it is unrecognisable as his once shot). The butt is aged and dark wood, polished by constant use. It's fitted perfectly to the curve of his shoulder, and so worn that any trace of grain has been polished away.
His hidden blade is modified so it will fit with the Colt; it slots onto the barrel underneath, as a bayonet does. He's skilled at doing this extremely quickly, so he can basically get off his shot with the Colt, attach his knife and take out anyone who might have come running from the sound.
History: Despite being alive for over 300 years, Fergus is very well adjusted to the modernities of the world as it is now. He doesn't often talk about his past as a human, nor will he say much about his life before he became an assassin. Pertinent details are as follows: there was torture involved, it wasn't pleasant. He moved from city to city as a freelancer for some time before settling with the Fellowship. Vague history is vague, many apologies, will change if needed bow and scrape etc. etc.
Relationships: As ever, open~ I don't bite, yo unless you want me to hur hur
Other: Quite literally fuck all. Oh, have a reference picture, I suppose? Or two. Whatevs.

[Pichu Luver]

Name: Karena (Karen) Springclove
Age: 50
Gender: Hind (Female)
Race: Faun Fauns are similar to Satyrs, but the lower half of their bipedal form is the hind end of a deer instead of a goat (minus the udder on the hinds, lol). All Fauns have a pretty good constitution and live a fairly long time, the average lifespan being 150 years. Fauns do not start to ‘slow down’ until they are about 100 years of age. The tallest members of the Faun race are a little over five foot, the shortest three and a half feet. Their overall body frame has all the range of the human race, from lithe and flexible to rotund and portly. Their ears are also like those of a deer and are capable of 180 degrees of movement; they look almost too large. Their hair and pelt are always the same colour, ranging through all the different shades of brown, but never into blond or red.
The male of the race are called stags, and the females, hinds. Stags have antlers that follow the seasons like wild deer, and are similar to white tail antlers in type. In the fall males can get more aggressive, as can the females, but not to the same degree. The males get their first head of antlers around fifteen, and gain another set of ‘branches’ to their antlers every other year until they are twenty five. After that, they gain one new prong every five years or so until they die.
Fauns usually live in the forest or in other natural environs that have a lot of plant life to them (so no deserts, tundra or too high up mountain sides). They can be perfectly comfortable in an urban setting, but most go to the wilder areas every fall for their annual festivals and competitions. Most foals (baby Fauns) are born nine months after these celebrations. Foals are called colt or filly for male or female, and they are born with the white spots on their lower half like wild deer until they are about seven or eight.
They do not have any real special abilities, other than being extremely good jumpers. Often they can clear eight feet from a standing position. They have a better understanding of flora and fauna then the average human, but it’s not something that can be called a true ability unless the Faun makes a study of it. They cannot run any faster than a human, and often are actually slower, hence why their fastest pace is a leaping run to make up for it. Their hearing is very good, but that just comes with having large ears. Their sight and smell is on par with human levels.
Origin: The Sylantos Lakes. She grew up in a logging village on the largest of the five lakes until she was eleven years old. It was then a passing Assassin visited the area, saw her skills in moving silently, and an eagerness to see the world, and offered her training in being a fighter. Her parents agreed to let her go, and when she came of age she was accepted into the Fellowship.
Personality: She knows exactly who she is, and what she is and is not capable of. She is a perfectionist, and does not accept anything less than the best of her ability. She expects this of others as well, but as she has so rarely gotten it, this has led her to distrust others and has given her a cynical attitude. She hates and has no patience for pretenders, but those that can honestly say they need help, she is happy to give aid to. If you can prove you’re trying your damned-est, she’s on your side. She sounds and appears fearsome, but actually has a good heart. Like that crabby, crazy old woman up the street you were deathly afraid of as a kid, but once you gave her a hand you realized was one of the nicest people around. That said, she has no patience for weepy people, or children. She greatly enjoys caustic humour.
Rank: TBA
Appearance: She is amongst the tallest of her race, at a little over five feet. She is fairly well muscled, and is one of the few females of her race who uses a short sword (most go for daggers). Her pelt and hair are a very light brown colour, not quite blond but close. Her eyes are a honey brown colour, almost gold. Her hair is short, chin length and very curly. It’s a mess of curls basically.
She is very well endowed in the bosom department, and while she hates corsets, she finds them necessary in order to do her job. Over the pale yellow and beige corset she wears a white undershirt, and a scarlet over tunic with a design of falcons in gold embroidery along the bottom edges and collar. While some of her race doesn’t bother with wearing clothing on their lower half, she does. She wears a brown wrap that the extra edges drape in the front and back, with a slit for her tail. This leaves her legs free, while not offending sometimes sensitive city folk.
When she goes on a mission, she wears the white undershirt, but then thick cotton under tunic to pad the leather breast plate, back plate, faulds (abdomen and lower back), cuisses (thigh/gaskin), greaves (calf/cannon) and helm. She does not wear chain mail as it makes too much noise, and only wears plate on the flat areas of the armour. The metal has been dulled so it does not shine, and has a rough coat of mottled dark grey colour. This is because she wants speed more than protection. Under her leg armour she wears cotton leggings to prevent chafing, and she wears specialized boots while on missions. This is so she can have a grip on roofs, and is able to climb and not slide all over the place. She still wears the wrap, but the tails are much shorter. The falcon is carved in a stylized fashion into the leather armour.
Over both her everyday clothes and armour is a dark red cloak down to her stifle.
Chosen Weapon: She has a short sword and a hidden blade on her left hand. There is nothing special about either, except the hidden blade is engraved in a leaf/vine pattern.
History: Her entire life has been rather uneventful. She grew up on the Sylantos Lakes system, helping fell wood and living a semi-hunter/gatherer type life. Part of her year was in the woods, the rest on the lakeshore moving the logs to a larger city to sell. She had always enjoyed sneaking more than the actual hunt (when they were in forest they often hunted to supplement their diet [for obvious reasons they did not hunt deer])), and liked to see just how close she could get to the animals. When she was 11, an assassin returning from a mission saw her, and recognized her talent. With her parent permission she went to Eden and when she was 15, she was accepted into the Fellowship. She has been there, training and going on missions ever since.
Relationships: As much as anyone can be, friends with Ashlara and Crowley.
Other: In totally stereotypical fashion, she can play the flute. She’s carved it herself.

Edit: And it appears!

Name: Arcadia (Dia)
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Race: Harpy Harpies are more or less winged humans, with six limbs; two wings, two hands and two feet. They also age in a similar fashion to humans, as well as being comparable in height. From the knee down they are bird legs, similar to flightless birds; three pointing ahead, one backwards. The one difference is that on the inside of each leg there is a curved claw held off the ground. This is for slashing and grabbing ledges, trees, etc. From the knee down they are feathered. From the heel down to the foot, they are scaled in a gold colour.
Their wings are huge, about half a foot off the ground; and in shape are similar to eagles. Useful for taking off and getting the most lift for the area of the wing. They also have a feathered tail, used for steering. Finally, all of their bones are hollow. This makes them quick to heal, and lightweight, but their bones easily heal incorrectly. They must be splinted and not used or it is very easy for them to heal crooked.
They have a large breast bone, called the keel in the centre of their chest, which makes their rib cage come to point. This is for the wing muscles. Because of this bone structure, even if they lost their wings to an injury, they could never be mistaken for human. Females lay eggs, but feed their young with milk for about six months. Due to their chest structure, females look much more well-endowed then they are. If it wasn’t for their chest structure, most would not even notice female harpies had breasts at all. Females outnumber the makes in a five to one ratio, and are extremely colourful. Males by contrast are very drab, and due to their rarity, are very well protected. They also often take care of the children.
Harpies hair match their dominate hair colour, and they possess a few feathers around their pointed ears. They are also incredible singers, making them prized by the slave market. They have two vocal chords, making for a unique sound. Their secondary voice box exists where the hollow bellow the human neck is, and when they transfer air to it, it inflates a little, and a second ‘voice’ comes out.
Harpies live no longer than the average human, and often less. They live in tough environments in order to keep away from the slaves. Cliffs, mountains and other high inaccessible places are common village areas. In captivity they often live to 50, while when free, maybe to 70 if they are lucky. Harpies, unless they are slaves are never seen in large cities, and only rarely in remote villages.
Origin: Dia was born in the Aria Cliffs in the south western part of Arkan. The cliffs line both sides of a narrow pass to a small valley in the midst of mountains. The pass actually looks like there used to be a mountain there, but something took it and just removed it from the landscape, creating the cliffs.
After she was captured she transferred around to various cities in southern Arkan, until she was bought by the Fellowship, and freed.
Personality:Due to her life, Dia has… issues. Arcadia is not even her real name, and she does not know her true name. For lack of anything else, she has kept it. She will cry at the drop of a hat, and at any criticism. That said, you only have to tell her something once, and she remembers it forever. She cannot stand confined areas, and shakes when she is terrified. She does not make any noise when she cries or is frightened out of her wits, having learned through beatings that, that is not the correct way to respond. Generally, she is a very quiet person, and her voice (when not singing) is very soft.
She has major trust problems, and has not put her faith in anyone yet. She has slowly started to learn not ALL people are like her captors, but it’s hard to accept after living almost all her life in slavery. Despite her life, it has not made her bitter. In fact you would be hard pressed to find a kinder person; even if she does kind of kill people for a living.
Despite all her personality problems, she is a great assassin. She has slip into society wears others cannot go, is accepted everywhere (as a slave) and she ALWAYS follows directions. She does not fail unless something goes horribly wrong. She is also very good with children, and loves them. The only time she shows confidence is on stage performing.
Rank: TBA
Appearance:\Her skin is very tan, from all her time now spent in the sun and flying. Her hair colour and the leading edge of her wings are scarlet, the secondary feathers are gold, and the tertiary feathers are predominately sapphire, with a few emerald ones. Her hair has a few highlights, which are gold-blonde. They occur naturally in the sunset. Were the sun rarely hits her hair is a burgundy colour. Her eyes are bright blue. Her tail is again, red, gold and blue. It flows to a long tip; the very longest feathers are violet. The feathers on her legs are red and shading to gold near her scales. Her claws are again, scarlet. If it wasn’t for the strange anatomy of the harpy race, she would be considered one of the most beautifyl creatures ever seen.
She is very rarely in a situation where she needs to hide, so her armour is bright and obvious to fit in her environment. It is emerald green plate mail, of the lightest kind possible. It has been heated twice to make it so. She refrains from armour on her lower legs, as it is not necessary. She has violet engravings and gold tiny deigns featuring a falcon. She wears a breast plate, back, upper and lower arms, abdomen, and thighs. Her short cape (going to just below her butt) is a dark gold, with a pine green velvet underside.
She has no physical scars, as a scared Harpy was worth less, and in a kind of retaliation, she has gotten a tattoo of a falcon on her lower back.
Somewhere, the falcon sigil of the Fellowship must be seen. It doesn’t have to be obvious, but it must be there. The Guardians do not know the symbol of the Fellowship, so don’t worry about it giving you away.
Chosen Weapon: Her hidden blade is not stylized in any way. Uses a crossbow, and is very good with it. It has much filigree and carvings on it, and looks like what she often pretends to be, a performer/body guard.
History: She lived with her flock until she was 1 year old. Then slavers came. Her flock thought they were safe, but a narrow path in the Aria Cliffs led the slavers to them. Dia, along with eight others was captured. Her flock had to abandon them in their escape, and Dia has not seen them since.
Since then she has been in slavery. She does not remember this early free period of her life, and only knew her captors are her ‘family’. After she was sold to a trainer, who taught her how to sing and dance until she was seven. Then, her trainer satisfied she knew everything useful, she was sold to a brothel that catered to unusual tastes. Here, in order to cater to a more ‘sophisticated’ crowd she was taught to read and write.
She was sold again at ten, and when she hit puberty, her maidenhood was sold to the highest bidder. Due to her truly spectacular colour, and skills at singing, she was sold for the fifth highest price ever. After that she was transferred around to various owners, only finding sanctuary in her singing. The Fellowship found her when she was twenty, and in a raid not related to her captivity, feed her.
While she has issues, she has mostly proven herself useful to Eden, and been allowed to stay and join their number.
Relationships: Open.
Other: She is a DAMN fine singer, knows many instruments and won many a competitions.

[Ghost]

I'd like to reserve a sign up slot If I could... I haven't been on RPG, or Pokemasters for that matter, for such a long time... but when you combine my three favorite series into one RPG I can't help but want to be in it. I should have my charachter up within the next day

[Ghost]

Double Post FTW



Name: Adrian Ambrose

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Rank: TBD

Origin: Ambrosia- A small, secluded farming village in the Northwest part of Arakan, roughly ten miles away from the Sylantos Lakes. The village relied mostly on subsistence farming, but the village's income was gained through the local blacksmith, who sold his masterly crafted steel armor and weapons to nearby cities and villages. The village was founded roughly 40 years ago by Michael Ambrose, Adrian's father, and a group of others who joined him on his relocation. The reasons for group's movement remain unknown. All decisions in the city ran through the town's council, which was led by Michael until his execution at the hands of The Guardians.

Personality: Due to his previously sheltered lifestyle, Adrian is brave and eager to adventure to unfamiliar places. He is well-educated, learning about a variety of subjects from the teachers back in Ambroisa. He is friendly and easy to talk to, but can often come off as arrogant and self-centered. He was raised to be confident in his own abilities, and even though he is gifted in what he does, he often wonders whether or not he has what it takes to be a successful assassin. Despite this, he is determined and focused to get better so that he can avenge the death of his father. His determination to suceed, however, can sometimes cloud his judgement. Above all, Adrian is an extremely emotional character, who is prone to outbursts of anger or sadness depending on the situation, and is known to carry grudges against people who have mistreated him.

Appearance: Adrian stands in at about six feet tall and weighs around 180 pounds. His body is well toned due to his years of farming and combat training with his father, and as a result he is also fairly tan. His hair is short and light brown and his most distinguishing feature is his pair of mesmerizing blue eyes. The beard he has grown along his strong jawline is well kept and dark in color.
He tends to wear the traditional white robes of the fellowship, with the falcon insigna embroided in grey across his hood. Under this, Adrian sports a white cloth shirt, made for him by his mother before he left, and a pair of hard leather chaps. The Falcon sigil is also present in the orange cloth belt that he fastens around his waist to keep his robes in place, being a large piece of steel that also doubles as protection for his waist and holds a sheath for his sword and dagger. He is also equipped with a pair of steel vambraces, the one on his left hand holding his hidden blade. Adrian also wears a pair of leather boots once worn by his father, which hold a special signifcance to him. When not on a mission requiring combat or training, this is all that he wears.
When knowing that he may be involved in close quarters combat, Adrian dons pieces of armor that attach over his robes, with intricatly designed and masterly crafted Ambrosian steel making up his chest plate and spaulders. His family's crest covers the steel greaves that he attaches over his boots.

Chosen Weapon: Adrian wears the hidden blade in his vambraces, which were originally crafted in Ambrosia but modified to fit the hidden blade by the Fellowship. Around his waist he has his father's Saracen Falchion, with a hilt made of solid golid and customized with his family logo, and his hand guard being a falcon with it's wings spread to represent The Fellowship. The blade is made of some of the finest crafted steel in all of Araken, which with enough repeated blows can crack through plate armor, and sharpened to the point where it can easily slide through an un-armored enemy. Adrian, while not being a master, is extremely proficient with his sword and can keep up in a sword fight with the best of them.
Adrian also carries a steel dagger on his side, which was crafted for him by Ambrosia's blacksmith as a gift for his birthday. He tends to use this weapon only when his sword would not be a viable option, but he can still keep up against several armed swordsman using only his dagger.

History: Adrian is the sole male heir to the Ambrosian line, having two sisters, one younger and one older. Due to this, Adrian was usually one of the only workers on his family's farm, which was tended to by himself and his uncle. His father was absent for most of his life, usually being away from the town for months at a time. While he was young he spent the time his father was away studying the fines arts and the history of Arakan. The young Adrian , however, was always curious and constantly asked questions about where his father was, with no one being able to tell him definitively. He would always eagerly anticipate his father's return, however, because he also came back bearing gifts for him and his sister's from far away places in Arakan. The occasions his father was in town, however, were joyous times for him. He would absorb as much knoweldge as he could from his father about the places he went, and spents hours upon hours sparring against his father, who was a excellent swordsman. When his father wasn't around, Adrian would spar with the other kids and even some of his male elders, defeating all of them by a wide margin. By the time Adrian was 20 he was almost able to defeat his father in both swords and hand to hand combat.
By the time Adrian turned 22, he had become the apprentice to the blacksmith and earned a steady income. He was unable to settle down with any woman in the town, despite being the most handsome suitor in the town and the ever persistent badgering of his mother.
Within a few months of his acceptance into being the blacksmith's apprentice, however, news reached Ambrosia of his father, Michael, being executed by The Guardians for no apparent reason.
Adrian went into a Frenzy, being extremely distraught over the loss of his father who he had barely gotten to known over the course of his lifetime. With no one in his village giving him any sort of answer, he took to his father's study, where he went over his memoirs and notes. In these notes were the locations he traveled, scattered all around Arakan, with the names of people that he had gone to visit. With no one in his village able to provide him any answers, Adrian packed up his armor and belongings, grabbed his father's trusted sword, and set off to question these people.
After almost two years of traveling, Adrian was still unable to find any answers about what his father had been doing all this time. At every town he had visited, the person he had searched for had either gone missing or had been murdered. Defeated, Adrain got drunk at a tavern and stayed there overnight.
During his sleep, he was awoken by a man shrouded in a white robe sitting next to him. Disoriented, he tried to get up and attack the man, but he was easily overwhelmed and shoved back down onto his bed. The man told him that he was a member of The Fellowship, a group of assassins that his father had been a part of, and told Adrian that he could not find any of the people his father had mentioned in his journal because his father had killed them. This surprised Adrian, but everything finally began to make sense to him. His father had not been sparring with him just for the fun of it while he was home; He was training Adrian to become part of this Fellowship.
He asked the assassin if he could join The Fellowship and carry on his father's legacy, but he said that it was not his decision. In order to join, he must undergo a rigorous training process with The Fellowship's members to see if he was worthy enough to join.
The next day, Adrian packed up his things and was taken to The Fortress of Eden, where he excelled in his training and was eventually admitted into The Fellowship.

Relationships: Open to Anyone who would like - PM me!

Other: Character Apperance and A picture of his sword (Kinda)

After much delay... it has been completed :O

[Crystal Tears]

Everyone so far is accepted, if you haven't sent me your try-out involving Monte then please do so, this is starting soon. I'm only going to wait a little bit longer for sign ups two others said they were working on.

[Shadow Wolf]

Name: Kendall

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Race: Human, or at least, that’s what he has always believed himself to be.

Rank:

Origin: He can’t remember much of his childhood, except that he found himself wandering through the forests close to one of the Sylantos Lakes.

Personality: Kendall has developed a cold personality, though this might be considered a mask to hide his painful past. He is loyal to the fellowship and he’s usually a serious person with no sense of humor. Though he may use sarcasm at times, he does this usually to make his point stronger.

Appearance: Kendall stands at 5’8” with a short limp haircut which covers part of his forehead (it may sometimes reflect an indigo colored hair, but it is barely noticeable except on certain circumstances) and black eyes. He’s not an “attractive” guy but he’s not bad looking either.

His costume is a tight ninja overall, but with certain features: The shirt part is of a lighter black tone than his lower part, it does no have sleeves and it goes up until it covers his neck and has two “pockets” o his back where he carries his twin swords; His gloves extend from his forearm to half of his fingers, with the emblem of the fellowship engraved in the back of each glove’s “hand”. His lower part goes a bit below his knee and his boots extend from his knees to his feet. The outer parts of the boots hold a peculiar crescent-shape design where his “hidden knife” is concealed. Since both of his boots have the design, it is barely possible to know which boot has the knife. He does not wear any kind of mask and he possesses a long coat which he uses to “blend” with the crowd.

One particular feature about Kendall is that he has a “mark” on his forehead: it can be best described as a circle with a V in its inside, but with the right tip of the V going out of the circle. He does not know much about this symbol, but he do knows that humans have freaked out whenever they saw that symbol, thus being hated by them.

Chosen Weapon: Ikari and Itami A pair of twin swords which he uses to engage in open combat. He usually does not need to use them as he has a certain way of killing his victims rather quickly. He has a particular way of killing his foes using pointy sticks he makes out of the wood of different trees. If necessary he would use his crescent knife to either finish the preparation of his sticks or to silently murder his victims.

History: Though many people could say that Kendall’s past might be with the murder of his parents, his past is nothing related to the matter. In fact, he does not even remember to have any parents. He only remembers that he found himself one day walking through the forests close to the Sylantos lakes and that… for some reason, he knew his way back to the city. What is painful of his past is that the people of the city despised him due to him being a wanderer in the city and due to his “mark” on his forehead. He was even abused by some people in the city and was once beaten so badly that he almost died. If it wasn’t for the one who rescued him, he would’ve died alone in the outer parts of the city; thus he has sworn loyalty to that person and has followed that person by joining the fellowship. Whenever he’s not doing his job, he’s usually around the Sylantos Lakes, looking for something to eat or just spending his time. He harbors an ill hatred for humans.

Relationships: None at the moment, except with the one who he is loyal to.

Other: He’s exceptionally patient due to the fact that his hobby is fishing.