Active
- Flea, female wunderkind (Sheet)
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Description:
Grey hair, glowing yellow eyes, sharp teeth, grey skin, pointed ears...
...That's not Shawn.
...
A fade back. A sweep of the arm, rotation of the shoulder, and a flourish of the opposite. The brown cloak flew back, revealing very strange armor, identical to the girl Thirteen's, other than color. Bulky gauntlets and boots, along with an odd midsection of a light grey color, and a skin tight suit of black. The girl's elven ears twitched, and her yellow eyes seemed to glow a bit brighter, as her hands made "Wooshing" noises as she moved them, followed by soft cracking noises when she stopped.
"You face Flea the Invincible now! Surrender now or die in obscurity!" - Garick Farrunner, male wood elf (Sheet)
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Description:
Garick is shorter than most elves, about 5 foot 8 inches in height with long blonde hair, often tied back into a ponytail. He wears a well made but old and stained breastplate and the skin of creatures he's killed, tanned and made into crude leather and draped about him in a kilt-like fashion. His hair is usually quite dirty and he doesn't smell particularly good. Even though he might have just been in a very civilized world, he always looks like he just spent six months in the wilderness without access to any civilized amenities. People have often tried to get him to wear more appropriate clothing, but he hates it, saying it's restricting and uncomfortable. His teeth are unkempt and crooked, and he's always got some form of dirt or mud on his face. Looking at him you could tell that if he tried he could be quite handsome, but it would take a lot of initial effort to dig him out from under all the grime. He often doesn't even wear shoes, and if he does they're usually moccasins of some form. He has his warhammer slung across his back and scimitar hanging off of his belt.
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History:
Garick was born on the material plane to a pair of loving parents. He grew up a normal average wood elven boy, learning to hunt and rejoice in life and the bounties of nature. When he had seen the passing of 53 cycles of the seasons, he returned home one day to find his parents missing. He assumer that his parents had gone hunting and spend the rest of the day playing and mock-fighting with his friends. When they did not return the next day, Garick was worried, but overnight hunting expeditions were not unheard of, so he went about his business. On the third day, though, he became frightened that his parents had been killed. He beseeched a few of the village's adults to search for his parents. On the fourth day since his parents' disappearance, he received news of his parents' deaths. He was overcome with grief and ran out of the room, escaping into the woods to cry away his grief in solitude. As he made his way to his usual spot of solitude under the one big sycamore tree, left of the oak tree (humans would never understand the landmarks), he caught out of the corner of his eye a light. He turned to gaze at it and, unwittingly, approached it. When he came close, though, he began to feel something tugging on him. He was slowly dragged towards the shimmering light, his fingers clawing at the ground for something to grab on to. Unfortunately, that was not his lucky day, and Garick was pulled into the vortex.
When he emerged, he was immediately assaulted by the smell of foreign flora and fauna. He stood up and found himself in an otherwordly place. He had heard stories of young elves being spirited away to other planes of existence, but he had always brushed them off as the elder elves attempting to scare younger elves into behaving. But the only way the things he saw that day could be possible would be if that vortex had deposited him on another plane of existence.
For the next thirty years, Garick wandered the planes, attempting to find his way back home. It took him the better part of fifteen years to find a portal that led off the plane that more knowledgeable people would identify as the Wilderness of the Beastlands. From there he traveled to the Windswept Depths of Pandemonium, then the Heroic Domains of Ysgard. Garick traveled and traveled, picking up survival knowledge and tips from helpful individuals and unhelpful individuals alike. Finally, one fateful day, Garick was preparing a breakfast on the plane of Arcadia when he felt a dimensional portal opening nearby. He quickly packed his meager belongings that he had acquired over the years and rushed over to the spot, where he found a group of people exiting a dimensional portal. He approached them, though cautiously, and inquired about the portal they had created, and they informed him of the Infinite Staircase and a few other things about how the multiverse worked. Suffice it to say Garick was bewildered. His understanding of the planes was quite wrong. He offered his services to them if they be willing to help him get home, to which they enthusiastically said yes to. After a quick and only mildly life-threatening adventure he was brought to the Infinite Staircase, and after 32 years, returned to the material plane and back to his home village.
He quickly found, though, that he had grown too accustomed to life in the multiverse. The rules of the material world just made life boring to Garick, and so he found his way back to the Infinite Staircase and joined the Planeswalker's Guild with what money he was able to scrounge together. - Kongunvir Raginsmith, male dwarf (Sheet)
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Description:
Young looking, square jawed, brown hair and beard kept neatly trimmed, large mustache.
Kongunvir is arrogant and proud, believing himself to be of a better cut than the common folk of the planes despite much evidence to the contrary. He's been humbled many times more since his first planar journey, however, and hides his flaws as well as he can. He dreams of returning home one day, even though he knows there will be nothing for him there, but knows that it will never happen. He has been cut loose in the multiverse, stripped of his rank and wealth and left to fend for himself. He must find his own way now. -
History:
Kongunvir Reginsmith was the born the 4th son of King Dyathal Reginsmith. The omens were good on the day of his birth and as he grew those around him, and he himself, became aware that he was worthy of his royal blood. He also knew that he would never be king. His three siblings preceeded him in the line for the throne and, unless the unthinkable should occur many times over, one of their progeny would succeed them upon their death. Thus he was left to forge his own destiny and choose the path of the warrior, a well respected profession for a dwarf of any birth. He was trained by the most skilled of his clan, his chosen calling complimented with the education that all heirs were expected to undergo. His skills were honed by a small conflict with a nomadic tribe of orcs who had foolishly tried to settle the land above his hold. He grew distinguished himself from his fellow warriors and grew prideful and arrogant, knowing himself to be of better stock than his fellow dwarves and destined for greatness. Time may have tempered him, but that was not what fate had in store.
A great enemy came from below, breaking into the forgotten depths of the hold and surging upwards. His clan fought tooth and nail, giving no ground without bloodying the enemy, but they were outnumbered and their foe was backed by fel magic. Eventually it was just his family and their honour guard left, trapped in their own throne room and waiting their death. When it came Kongunvir threw himself at their ranks, determined to inflict some form of vengeance for the destruction of his people.
He never got the chance. He was not sure how it occured but he suddenly found himself in another place, in a strange forest beneath an unfamiliar sky.
It took time for Kongunvir to come to terms with what had happened. His family, his people, everyone he knew were dead, all except him. He'd been spirited away in their final moments, kept from his vengeance and kept from dying alongside his father. He could not even return to his hold. This was the least of his troubles, however. The planar elves that discovered him received a less than friendly welcome from the madened dwarf. It was no surprise that he was captured, stripped of his gear and brought before their leader who explained exactly what had happened to him. Kongunvir was no fool, but his mind reeled as it tried to comprehend the information. It was many days before he could speak again and many more before he negotiated his release. Apologies were made and his equipment was siezed, both much to his disdain. They allowed him to keep his weapon at least, though it was damaged and robbed of whatever power it once held. Thus began his wanderings, the princeling distraught and humbled. - Lorraine DiHammermoore, female human (Sheet)
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Description:
Lorraine DiHammermoore appears to be a very relaxed, easy going woman. Her long, straight black hair is worn loose, covering her ears at most times, framing her starkly pale face, china doll face. Her dark green eyes are usually half lidded, and coupled with her always slightly upturned lips someone unfamiliar with her might mistake the expression for intoxication. She wears a darkened leather chest piece and leggings, as well as a pair of light cloth gloves, heavy boots, a sizable backpack and a belt with many pouches. At her side is a sheathed Greatsword, though rumor has it that she's a bit of a caster. She keeps a riding horse, and a pet hawk that rarely leaves it's favored perch on her left shoulder. She will not talk about where she came from; she prefers to change the subject, or to ignore the question entirely. - Rosalyn LaChaille, female human (Sheet)
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Description:
Rosalyn possesses the small, wiry build that is common among Seethe's characters coupled with dark-brown hair and the dark tan that would be expected of a girl who spends quite a bit of time under the light of the sun. Her face is no less youthful than one would predict given her 18 years of age and is best described as "cute" by the definition of most humans, though it tends to be a bit dirty more often than not. This is due to the fact that she spends most of her time out of doors and away from civilization. However, contrary to what one might predict from this, she is not actually a product of the wilderness, having her origins well within civilized territory.
Because the life of an explorer can be a dangerous one, Rosalyn has been well trained in the use of the tools of a warrior and possesses a greater level of strength than her stature may suggest. Battle, however, is not the purpose of her existence. She is, in fact, more than a little adverse to it, and the thought of melee combat is especially troubling to her. Thus, she lacks the aggression needed to fight effectively in close-quarters. She is, however, much more proficient in the somewhat less disturbing art of archery and is capable of wielding a bow quite well when necessary.
Unlike rangers, druids, and some barbarians, Rosalyn does not hold an actual divine reverence for Nature, though she does hold a healthy respect for it. She does hold a truly divine reverence, however, for the Unknown, inspired by the small sect of Fharlanghn-worshippers into which she was born. The members of this sect believe it to be their duty to explore the realms, collecting information about the many lands and legends therein. As those goals are quite like those of the Planewalkers’ Guild, it was inevitable that at least one of the sect’s members would join the Guild at some point. - Salixian Jowain Cinerea, male woodling elf (Sheet)
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Description:
He wasn't very tall, although the slender way he was built made him look much taller. He was elfin, so much was distinguishable from his fine features and the shape of his ears, but he had a slightly... off tone to his skin and hair (which was... looked to be at least mostly brown, with some greenish strands in it) that made him look a little peculiar. He had a pair of small, round glasses at the tip of his nose, rimless and attached only to a small silver chain that went down to the breast-pocket of his coat.
The young man was dressed in something that looked to have once been rather sturdy material, made to handle any weather, but severe modifications had been done to it. He was almost literally covered in pockets, belts, packs and bags, some of them stuffed to the brim, others empty (and some giving off an eerie kind of buzz occasionally). His hair was relatively long, reaching down to his waist if let loose, but for the sake of ease it was tied back into a simple braid. -
History:
Salixian Jowain Cinerea, or Salix to his friends, is the son of a fairly prominent member of the wizarding community in Sigil and a tree dryad named Willow-Tear of Elysium. The circumstances to his conceivment weren't that peculiar, but deserves mentioning any way.
Theodas, as his father was called, had found himself on a small excursion to the forest of Elysium as part of a task to retrieve an artifact from one of his old colleagues. The elf had, as many do, found himself compelled to stay on the plane for a bit longer, and although he intended only to take a few weeks vacation there, he wound up spending almost a hundred years on the plane.
During this time, he came to befriend a rather shy dryad called Willow-Tear. As to why she had gotten that name, part of it was because of the tree she belonged to, which was positioned over a very small waterfall and river, which stood for the second part of her name. Willow-Tear, like many of her kind, disliked interacting with those not particularily attuned to the wild, but as the elf proved to be a very talented musician (his skills with the violin was widely held in high regards) she found herself becoming more and more interested in this strange fellow and the even stranger sounds he was producing with his wooden tool.
So, on an evening when Theodas other friends had left him to pursue their own joys (Theodas himself had felt tired and not much in the mood for nightly revels), he came to rest underneath Willow-Tear's tree. She appeared before him then, and told him that she found him quite interesting. He, obviously, was a little shocked to find a spirit of the forest approach him so directly, but being of a pragmatic sort, the two soon came to talk about subjects far and wide, long into the morning with the elf's tire long since forgotten.
Theodas told Willow-Tear about the world outside of Elysium, about the planes, and the primes, of Sigil and the outlands. She listened raptly, absorbing his every word, at once amazed by these distant placed, but also saddened by her inability to ever visit them. Theodas understood this, and did his best to explain them as meticulously as he could, which could perhaps be considered one of the reasons he stuck around for so long.
But all things come to an end, and Theodas felt himself missing the bustle of the cities, the rustle of his personal library and the luster of Sigil's marvellous buildings, and he had to bid Willow-Tear farewell. The two spent one final night together before the elf left, taking only a branch of the willow's leaves with him for keepsakes.
And that was the end of it, or so Theodas thought.
A few years later he would be visited by his friend, one of those he earned in Elysium, a genasi of a whispy persuasion, who had brought with her a young boy. The child, who seemed to have only barely learned to walk, didn't know how to talk or read, but his friend explained exactly why he was there. So it was that Theodas, master of the sixth circle of the High Order of Moragogh, ensnarer of the Fiend of Two Deep, had become a father.
He named his child Salixian, in honor of his mother. Salix, as he soon became known, proved to be quite the firebrand amongst the mages of the order, and many were the times when the high-chancellor berated Theodas for a prank or a play the child had done, urging the elf to school his son more properly. But the young elf boy, for at that time he certainly did not look anything like his mother, except perhaps for a certain pale complexion and a tendency to have somewhat unruly, bushy hair and glimmering sap-gold eyes filled with curiosity and mischief, seemed to have little interest in learning magic. Sure, he learned to read and talk fast enough, writing was no arduous task, but the arcane seemed not to... stick to the boy, so he was left to his own device.
Then, on his - Sunsara "Sunny" Tolvaj, female human (Sheet)
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Description:
Sunny is slightly taller than average, with an average build. She keeps her dark blonde hair pulled back from her face, showing off her green eyes and delicate features. Her movements seem precise and controlled, especially when she walks or runs.
Age: 24
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 135 lbs - Trivale Shalar, male tiefling (Sheet)
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Description:
A somewhat distracted-seeming man of about 5'8", with somewhat tan skin and apparently auburn hair, as well as reddish, somewhat disturbing eyes. He prefers to wear his hair that it draws others' eyes away from the one thing he can't really distract himself from when he looks in the mirror.... the large temple-horns that have grown there.
Inactive
- Alvar Feldtspar, male human
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Description:
The kingless Knight Alvar Feldtspar, roughed by months of hard life, stands before you.
His darkblond hair, while clean, is ragged and outgrown down to his neck and his blue eyes are those of a man who has seen far too much new in far too short a time. Despite his nearly drowzy look, Alvar acts far from it; he is emotional and outspoken, clear-voiced and well-mannered, yet frayed at the edges. Despite being of noble upbringing, little of the prideful arrogance can be seen within him; whether because of his expulsion from his homelands, or if he was merely not born with it remains to be seen.
Tall and proud, Alvar has only become slightly thinner since first he came to Sigil. Because of his skills with the blade, he has had no trouble finding work, and food and drinks have never been a problem. He moves with a confidence that matches his personality, and like many of his kind, he is a knight hard to forget. He can always be seen with his two blades, a short sword of a rather typical make and a finely crafted longsword with a hilt made of the finest leather and adorned with beautifully carved, gleaming steel. Although he is trained in the use of Full Plate armor and Mounted Combat, Alvar generally only reserves his heavier armor for when he expects trouble, and the horse he sold quite early on; instead he dresses typically in an armor made from studded leather and the sturdy clothes of a Planeswalker, a worn backpack over his shoulder and a cloak of moss-green on his back.
His tabard, which he wears only with his Full Plate, is of a similar mossgreen color with deep, almost eggplant purple borders and the stylized image of a hawk's talon in orange gold on it.
Although he tries to keep his appearance, nearly a year away from a real home has left him with an almost permanent shade of beard. Also, a thin scar snakes down the left side of his face, a memory from his early days in Sigil. - Anne Sands, female human
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Description:
5'4"; brown eyes; copper colored, chin-length hair held back with clips; tan, freckled skin
- Asperel "Asp" Brighteyes, male kender (Sheet)
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Description:
Short, fresh-faced and eager-looking, with slightly-pointed ears, brown (more recently, blue) hair done up in the traditional topknot and light blue eyes. Asp tends to wear trousers and coat rather than wizards' robes, though he does have a pointy hat for formal occasions. His coat has numerous additional pockets sewn onto it, both inside and outside, and his belt is nearly filled with pouches of various sizes.
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History:
Asp is, in many ways, your typical kender. Bright, cheerful, and with a somewhat casual attitude to other peoples' belongings. In other ways, he's a bit of an abberation. While the average kender would love to command the awesome powers of magic, by and large they don't have the attention span. Asp does, even if one day of dedicated study in the week is about his upper limit.
Born on the world of Krynn, soon after the War of the Lance, Asperel grew up in a world in flux, adapting to the return of the gods, and recovering from a great war. Not that such things really adversely impacted the young kender. If anything, a world in the midst of change represented a smorgasboard of fascinating experiences. Not that people necessarily believe all of Asp's stories about his adventures.
However, this typically kender existence took a strange turn when the wizard Devlin found him ensconced in his living room leafing through one of his old spellbooks. Asp claimed he'd left his door open. Resigning himself to losing several minor trinkets, the old wizard gently shooed him out. Unfortunately, the young kender seemed to have taken it into his head that he wanted to study magic, leaving Devlin with an entusiastic disciple. In vain, he tried to explain that mastering magic required great focus and dedicated study. Not traits generally associated with kender. Asp was however very persistent. In the end, Devlin decided that the only way to convince him that magic wasn't for him was to make him sit through a few lessons.
Much to his surprise, Asp stuck at it, though he often took a few days off here and there. Not one to go back on his word, Devlin continued to teach him, running through the basics with him, and building upon the spells in that original spellbook. In the end, the status quo was overturned when Devlin was recalled to the Tower of Wayreth by his order. Fond as he was of Asp, Devlin decided that the wizards of the tower probably weren't ready for a kender wizard. He therfore encouraged Asp to go out into the world and continue his studies on his own, something for which the kender required little encouragement.
Asp's travels took him across much of Ansalon, with the appearance of a kender wizard occasionally giving rise to questions of just who he'd stolen his accoutrements from. On one notable occasion, somebody actually tried to claim his spellbook, but soon changed his tune when Asp shrunk him in order to prove that yes, he was actually a wizard. Thus proving that it is best not to meddle in the affairs of wizards. Even kender wizards. His fellow kender were, naturally, delighted to see one of their own practicing magic, and always an eager audience for magic tricks. The shrinking spell, following its initial demonstration, proved particularly popular.
Asp was fated for wider horizons, however. Finding himself in a spot of bother in a tavern (a minor matter of somebody accusing him of stealing his purse. Patently absurd, but there's just no reasoning with some people), he nipped out the back, only to find, much to his delight, that the back opened into a completely different city on a completely different plane. Naturally, turning around was out of the question.
Since then, Asp has learned a few things about the planes. The basics of portals, some of the many possible destinations, what a berk is... The Infinite Staircase, in particular, is a constant source of wonder, with doors to practically anywhere scattered across the various landings.
It was his wanderings of the staircase that brought him into contact with the Planewalkers' Guild. Finding an organisation of like-minded people (from a certain perspective), Asp immediately set about joining. After all, exploring is so much more fun when you have company, and other people so often have fascinating ideas of things to do which Asp could never have come up with on his own. - Gulrd Hyrtust, male human
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Description:
From the look of him, Gulrd hasn't quite shed the look of a savage. Maybe it's the enormous bow carved from bone. Maybe it's his way of going around in furs in any weather, like he'll never be warm again. Maybe it's the scraggly red beard, or the snowy white owl following him around. It might be the lack of decorum, but no one can say he isn't willing to learn from a faux pas.
At any rate, this newcomer to the Guild is gregarious enough, never failing to turn down food, drink or really anything that is offered or to enjoy himself when he has the chance. He's taken a passion to reading and is more than eager to listen to anyone giving technical explanations of their craft. Also notable for some measure of patience, perhaps with street urchins and thieving wizards. - Joss David Hunter, male aasimar
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Description:
4.5 feet, 95 lbs. Brown hair and eyes.
Picture - Lucus "Lux" Grevran, male human
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Description:
Blue eyes, blond hair, 5'9", 160 lbs.
Lux has a fairly unkempt appearance, with thick hair that he rarely styles or cares for and a frequent shadow of stubble on his face complemented by a disorganised style of dress: a shabby cloak with many pockets on its inner lining, often with the contents of the pockets visible to others; a well-worn traveller's outfit that seems to be always dusty, no matter the location; and boots that could do with mending. This appearance is topped by his favourite item of apparel: his lucky hat. Made from closely woven straw with a medium-sized circular brim he considers it iconic, though he is not sure what it is iconic of.
Personality wise, Lux comes across as friendly, learned, and loveable in a scampish way, though most of this is a ruse he puts on to make friends (which he does easily), despite being wracked with self-doubt. He is highly enthusiastic, to the point where he can push an issue too far. - Magpie, warforged (Sheet)
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Description:
As the deep, glowing, mossgreen eyes look upon you you instinctively get the impression of a giant just recently woken from a century-long slumber. Eyes, unfocused and heavy, peer out from their deep-set sockets, the brain still trying to figure out exactly who you are, and whether it should bash you or have you for dinner...
Except, in Magpie, neither of those options seem to exist. There is merely a drawn-out, curious but tired presence that seems to just observe you. It's not easy to tell whether this is better or worse.
The construct was once beautifully crafted from the finest mithril and wood, runes of blessings intermingled with circles and pictograms. Indeed it seems to have barely aged but for the carvings that most, if not all, are now only visible in the brightest of light, only the very edges of them remain on the time-polished surface. It is tall and imposing in its stature, yet lean and long-limbed with a helmet-like head that, were it not for the peaceful eyes, would be quite unnerving. Although composed only of metallic plates, strips of woods and areas empty of both, the "face" of the construct gives a somber and fierce first impression, a direct reminder of the reason it was created.
If the face is not enough to impress upon one that, the armament it carries with it certainly further proves the point. Indeed, the only thing adorning the warconstruct is a thick, rugged looking leather sam browne belt strapped tightly across its waist and left shoulder. While the belt itself is completely mundane, the weapons strapped to it are perhaps even more so. With the appearance of having been crafted as merely one of a couple of thousands, the flail and the glaive are both unadorned but apparantly well-used and worned down. Indeed, the only remarkable detail about them is the fact that they are both polished to a shine. The greatsword, its scabbard strapped on the back, seems to have seen quite the amount of battle itself, the hilt and cross-guard made seemingly of the same material as Magpie itself, the pommel shaped like an onion dome. The blade itself is a deep, metallic green that seems untouched by age, although whether this is because of Magpie's obsessive whetting or for some other reason is unknown, as Magpie itself refuses to speak about it.
The Constructs tone of voice is generally short and to the point, which is in stark contrast to its otherwise calm exterior. It seems to be fairly alert as well, as just the slightest movement is enough for the glowing green orbs to focus their attention on you. - Phelan, male wolf (Sheet)
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Description:
A generic gray wolf with amber eyes and fluffy fur. He's unusually well groomed, making him looks somewhat civilized and more approachable. He also has masterwork mithril capped teeth, engraved very shallowly with curvy designs. He wears strapped on masterwork studded leather armor, reaching over his neck, chest, shoulders, back and hips with a matching set of securely strapped leg pieces. This is all custom fitted, with leaf patterns on the surface.
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History:
Phelan was originally an average wolf wandering the plane of Arborea. He had no name then, no thoughts as humanoids recognize them. That came later. He encountered a strange creature one day, who went on two legs and whose body bore strange reflective pieces. He could smell no fear on it, nor was it's posture agressive. It was calm... and it prostrated itself before him. It accepted his dominance, or that is what he was meant to believe. He approached curiously. He didn't understand the strange words the creature muttered under it's breathe, looking at a piece of some flat substance or other... it smelled of dust and wood. And then something happened that made him stop. He experienced something new, and utterly alien to him. He wondered what the creature was doing, and why, and if it had something to do with the swimming feeling in his head. It was his first abstract, self aware thought Phelan ever had. Phelan spent a year travelling with the Spiker druid who awakened him, before they came to the plane of Ice together.
- Shawn Guiness, female human?
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Description:
Shawn is, at first glance, a grumpy young girl. Upon further inspection, she's a grumpy young girl with the filthy habit of smoking. She wears her red hair back in two ponytails, and aviator's goggles rest on her forehead. For someone her age, her eyes (Green) look surprisingly weary, as if she's seen more than her fair share of the cruelty of the planes.
Her dress may or may not be surprising- Simple clothes, along with leather armor and a short sword, all scaled down to her size. She keeps a backpack, also scaled, and a pouch at her side that, if one looked closely, she pulls quantities of candy and other sugary goods from. Personality wise, she's as grumpy as she looks, and has a bit of a foul mouth- Something that's gotten her scorned by the townspeople of the Stair. She's quick to shout at those who treat her like a kid, but in the end, nobody can really trace where she lives, or any family she may have. - Theller of Homespire, male raptoran (Sheet)
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Description:
Theller is about 6'4" but thin and lean. His face has sharp, angular features and pointed ears like an elf's, but with smaller, beadier eyes and a head topped with what at first glance seems to be curly white hair but at a second glance is short downy feathers. Of special note are the white feathered wings on his back, the feathers closer to the outside of the wings being dyed a vibrant royal blue. His garb is a simple, functional suit of tan leather, cut close to his thin, bony body, and a bandana of the same blue as the dyed feathers on his wings tied around his head. He is always barefoot, his toes longer and better-articulated than those of a human, especially his thumb toe (more than merely a "big toe", it is fully opposable to allow grasping), his feet looking more like a bird's talons than a humanoid's feet. His fingernails are not like those of a human (though less so than his toes), appearing as a happy medium between a bird's talons and a human's nails. (Recently has a scar of no feather growth on his temple as the result of an illithid attack)
- Vance Sol-Kairu, male human
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Description:
Vance stands at roughly six feet tall, and has notable long black hair, albeit a bit messy. He appears, at first glance, to be a rather typical "thug," for lack of better words--his large stature, the way he talks, regular drinking, and the mannerisms he typically adopts tend to reinforce this more often than not. However, a few things seem to not add up; between the massive poleaxe that he carries, which looks far too unbalanced for the average man to swing around--as well as the smaller halberd that he also slings across his back--, the numerous facial scars from what look like various slashes and grazes, the particularly heavy iron banded armor he wears almost everywhere underneath his gray outfit and cloak...the list goes on.
Insofar as things go, Vance refuses to tell anyone about his origins, or even why he joined the Guild, but however, has a tendency to alternate between fascination with the idea of the planes themselves, and smirking in an amused manner when the subject of planar travel is brought up--though again will not tell what he finds so funny when asked on the subject. Outside of that, he tends to deal with things rather directly, and notably seems to enjoy brute-forcing his way through a fight; occasionally one that he picks after an insult or other slight, even... - Zant, male water genasi (Sheet)
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Description:
19 years old, 5'6" tall, 152 lbs, pale cyan complexion, white hair that ripples gently. White, pupil-less eyes.
Zant is generally cool headed and soft spoken, a disposition apparently common to most water gensai. He follows the philosophy of his patron deity, Istishia, as best as he can, still being somewhat unfamiliar with his dogma. The result of this is an adaptable nature and a reluctance to force change in things. Physically Zant stands five and a half feet tall and moves fluidly, always trying to maintain a calm expression. He doesn't look as if he's entered his twentieth year yet, judging by human standards. His features are smaller and softer than usual, lacking angles and hard edges. His skin is a pale cyan and glistens as if he was wet. His hair, meanwhile, is a cloudy white and ripples constantly, regardless of whether a wind is blowing or not. His eyes are coloured the same and are, quite noticably, without pupils. When not wearing his shell armour he wears loose cloth pants and shoes and prefers to remain bare chested. -
History:
Zant is a water gensai and, for the majority of his life, lived with his nereid mother on the plane of water. His father was a merry planehopping explorer of a mage and didn't contribute majorly to Zant's childhood. What he did give him during his few visits were tales of the rest of the cosmos. While these were of interest to the young gensai, it wasn't enough to prompt him to travel, not even when compounded with the general antipathy most of the locals felt towards him. It wasn't until he felt a divine calling that he set out to see the planes as well as further the agenda of the new and confusing force in his life.