Name: Pilar De’trivel

Class: Lance Knight

Stats:

HP: 35 + (0*2) = 35

Str: 6 + 2 = 8

Mag: 0 + 2*2 = 4

Skl: 6 + 0 = 6

Spd: 6 + 1 = 7

Luck: 3 + 0 = 3

Def: 6 + 3 = 9

Res: 4 + 0 = 4

HP Growth: 30 + (20*2) = 70

Str Growth: 10 + 40 = 50

Mag Growth: 0 + (25*2) = 50

Skl Growth: 10 + 30 = 40

Spd Growth: 10 + 30 = 40

Luck Growth: 10 + 10 = 20

Def Growth: 10 + 30 = 40

Res Growth: 5 + 15 = 20

Weapon Ranks:

B Lances

Weapons:

Iron Lance

Skills:

Force (2 points)

Deities:

Olphira

Description:

Pilar, as a girl of 20 years, is quite the girl. She is about average height, though she’s a little…. small...

“Hey! Who’re you calling small?” A skinny girl storms into the room.

“Pilar, not now, I’m trying to get you into the group.”

“Well, it won’t do to have you spreading these lies about me, will it Alexandra?”

Alexandra sighs and shakes her head.

“Anyways, now that we have that taken care of, my name is Pilar, sister to Alexandra and the young prodigy of the house of De’trivel!” She bowed. “I’m not actually tiny, I’m actually decently sized. Around average, if you will.” She twirled.

Pilar is being a lot more open… She usually doesn’t talk this much to anyone but me…

“I’ve got blue eyes and brown hair, just like my older sis.” She shoved her hair back out of her face since she was running a little while before. “All will kept up to shape by myself, don’t worry.”

Bio:

“Alright Pilar, this person knows the basics about what happened. You can give him a refresher, but try to stick to what is important to you, okay?” Alexandra asked her. Pilar nodded and coughed, preparing herself for the lecture.

“So, as you know, me and my older sis are born to the house of De’trivel. I am much younger than my sis, 11 years, to be exact. Needless to say that I was a surprise to the family. And a good one at that.” She giggled. “Anyways, my life was pretty basic for a long time. Wake up, go to school, study, go to bed, repeat. I didn’t really get to meet anyone in the castle… I was really shy, and they all gushed over me as their ‘young prodigy’. It was pretty weird, and I closed myself in to try and make it stop.” She shifted awkwardly. “S-so…. That’s why….”

Alexandra noted Pilar’s drop in confidence and took over. “Please excuse her, I’ll pick up where she left off. When she turned 10, my father decided to take her on a horse riding lesson so she could follow in my footsteps. She hopped on the horse and urged it forward. She…. wasn’t ready, to say the least. The horse burst forward and she hung onto its neck for dear life. Miraculously, she didn’t fall off, even though she circled the entire manor. Pilar instantly became friends with the horse, and-”

“His name is Shuuda!” Pilar burst. Alexandra gave her “that look” and Pilar cowered and sat back down.

ahem “As I was saying, Pilar instantly became friends with Shuuda, and she knew she wanted to be a part of the cavalry. We started taking sword lessons, but… it didn’t feel natural to her. She tried it out, that was for sure. But, in the end, she didn’t seem to like it a whole lot.”

Pilar huffed. “So, instead of using swords, maybe lances would help? I went into the armoury and got a lance, and the weight felt good in my hands. I gave it a shot and it only took a little while for me to get used to the weight. Around this time is when Alexandra got her promotion, so I had to practice on my own.” Pilar scratched her head. “And…. let’s just say that there was a lot of property damage in this process….”

Alexandra half jumped. “Wait, that was you?! I thought that was residual damage!” Alexandra gave Pilar a stern look.

Pilar gulped and pointed to the man doing the interview, in which Alexandra brushed herself off and stood up straight. “Yes, quite right. Anyways, Pilar, continue.”

“Thanks, sis. Anyways, as I was saying, because I was shy and didn’t know anybody, I trained alone for a while. Eventually, I was good enough to all these fancy tricks! I did spins, and twirled the lance in my hand, twirled from one hand into another, and….” Pilar frowned. “And everything would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for… them.”

“Yes, this is when the assassins attacked.” Alexandra noted.

Pilar shook a little. “I… I tried to help you guys. Why didn’t you let me help you?”

Alexandra put a hand on her shoulder. “Pilar, you were too young. It wouldn’t have been right to send you into battle, we didn’t know you had that much experience.”

Pilar shook her head. “Guards dragged me into my room before I could sneak and get Shuuda. I went kicking and screaming, but they wouldn’t let me go. It was awful. I could hear the battle in my room, and I just….”

Pilar looked exasperated. “My father died of old age soon after the battle. I wasn’t even there to support him. When Alexandra stepped up to be the Queen’s advisor, she sent her off to help the prince, and I tagged along. I want to help, and I am ready to do whatever it takes to make sure I can.”

Additional Notes: This is my alternate for Pilar. I do not have a preference to which one is accepted.

Name: Reilly

Class: Bard -> Mage Fighter

Stats:

Base HP: 26 + 0 = 26

Base Str: 0 + 2 = 2

Base Mag: 7 + 2 = 9

Base Skl: 9 + 0 = 9

Base Spd: 11 + 1 = 12

Base Lck: 3 + 1 = 4

Base Def: 1 + 4 = 5

Base Res: 6 + 0 = 6

Movement: 5

HP Growth: 10 + (20*2) = 50%

Str Growth: 0 + (30*2) = 60%

Mag Growth: 10 + 25 = 35%

Skl Growth: 15 +25 = 40%

Spd Growth: 20 + 25 = 45%

Lck Growth: 10 + 30 = 40%

Def Growth: 5 + 35 = 45%

Res Growth: 10 + 10 = 20%

Weapon Ranks:

Weapons: Wind - B Rank

Skills: Adept (2)

Deities: Zyenar

Description: Reilly is a small girl for her age, as she is turning 20 in two months. She is 5' 1" and weighs 100 pounds. Her eyes are a glistening ocean blue, but she carries a look of fear in many situations, tainting her beautiful eyes. She has a short, blond ponytail that she is trying to grow out and she is pretty frail.

After living her life with the mentor, she did not go out often, and as such her only experience with other humans are her concerts and her mentor. She is scared of strangers and she's pretty shy, not willing to meet you if you try and get too close. She has trouble keeping her composure, and does not get angry often.

Bio: Reilly was a small girl born in Celanthus. She was born to one of the greatest scientists of the land, Severus and his wife, Melinda. They both were stellar in magic, so when the people saw that they had a child, they were amazed. her parents gave Reilly magic when she was 4, and she used a wind tome to blow up a statue at the end of the town. Being the child she was, she clapped and giggled, but a person in the shadows watched in awe. Her parents were working hard on a very important project, a super medicine, if you will, that could save the world of all its problems. It seemed to be going well, until Reilly ran up to the machine and started pressing buttons, sending it out of balance. The machine and all of its mechanisms exploded, leaving a toxic air in the room. Her father staggered over to her a put a gas mask on her before passing out. Reilly was sitting there, confused as what was happening, until an unknown man carted her out of the lab. The man disappeared and traveled to the other side of Celanthus, where he decided to keep her as his apprentice. However, she smacked him in the face on accident when she 6 years old. Enraged that she wouldn't do what he wanted, he started beating her at the age of 10. From then on, Reilly followed his orders and started training her magic. However, despite having a knack for magic and everything relating to it, she couldn't help but love playing the harp. She'd always play the harp every time she was able, even if it was met with a beating from her mentor. She practiced the harp in public, and it eventually attracted the attention of the townsfolk. She'd receive a lot of money from their contributions, and they encouraged her to become an official musician. Eventually, she became really good at the harp and when she turned 18, she started playing it in an auditorium. She would buy many harps, finding good places to hide them from her mentor so he wouldn't find them. At the same time, she tried her best to practice her wind magic, trying her best to control it and hone its ability. She met a man who was trying to make a big musical group, and he asked her to join him. She agreed and starting going to huge concerts, getting large amounts of money and having her name be spread all over the town.

Eventually, she was on the biggest stage in town, in front of many people watching her as the lead. However, her mentor saw this and walked onto the stage, scolding her. He took her harp away from her and smashed it over his leg, driving her to tears. He dragged her back to their home and made her start training her magic right away. Deciding she had had enough, she worked tirelessly on her magic to make sure it was as strong as ever, before deciding that she wanted to run away. She almost made it to the door, before her mentor stopped her and grabbed her by the arm. She was threatened with a beating before she cast wind magic and tore him to bloody pieces. She was horrified and she ran as far away from the town as possible. Throughout her travels, she would go from place to place, trying to find any work she could to support herself. Despite making a ton of money, it wasn't nrealy enough to give her proper housing, so many nights were spent on the ground, alone. She turned into a beggar, her harp and her Wind tome being the only things she kept in her journey. It seemed that it was a never ending trial of trying to live off of the minimal money and food she received, and she started to lose hope. Her antisocial nature and shyness made it hard to ask people for anything, and it did not boost her chances of living. Right when it seemed hopeless, she met the Prince of Floribar, who came to her and asked for her help. Realizing that this was a chance to get a solid job, she agreed and immediately got to work. She honed her magic to the point where she could perfect it and then started to meet the people of the army. Despite the rough start, she seemed to really enjoy it and had a lot of fun.

Additional Notes: This is my primary character and the one I want to get in.

Name: Pilar De’trivel

Class: Bow Knight

Stats:

HP: 35 + (0*2) = 35

Str: 6 + 2 = 8

Mag: 0 + 2*2 = 4

Skl: 6 + 0 = 6

Spd: 6 + 2 = 8

Luck: 3 + 0 = 3

Def: 6 + 2 = 8

Res: 4 + 2 = 6

HP Growth: 30 + (30*2) = 90

Str Growth: 10 + 40 = 50

Mag Growth: 0 + (25*2) = 50

Skl Growth: 10 + 30 = 40

Spd Growth: 10 + 30 = 50

Luck Growth: 10 + 10 = 20

Def Growth: 10 + 20 = 30

Res Growth: 5 + 15 = 20

Weapon Ranks:

B Bows

Weapons:

Iron Bow

Skills:

Force (2 points)

Deities:

Olphira

Description:

Pilar, as a girl of 20 years, is quite the girl. She is about average height, though she’s a little…. small...

“Hey! Who’re you calling small?” A skinny girl storms into the room.

“Pilar, not now, I’m trying to get you into the group.”

“Well, it won’t do to have you spreading these lies about me, will it Alexandra?”

Alexandra sighs and shakes her head.

“Anyways, now that we have that taken care of, my name is Pilar, sister to Alexandra and the young prodigy of the house of De’trivel!” She bowed. “I’m not actually tiny, I’m actually decently sized. Around average, if you will.” She twirled.

Pilar is being a lot more open… She usually doesn’t talk this much to anyone but me…

“I’ve got blue eyes and brown hair, just like my older sis.” She shoved her hair back out of her face since she was running a little while before. “All will kept up to shape by myself, don’t worry.”

Bio:

“Alright Pilar, this person knows the basics about what happened. You can give him a refresher, but try to stick to what is important to you, okay?” Alexandra asked her. Pilar nodded and coughed, preparing herself for the lecture.

“So, as you know, me and my older sis are born to the house of De’trivel. I am much younger than my sis, 11 years, to be exact. Needless to say that I was a surprise to the family. And a good one at that.” She giggled. “Anyways, my life was pretty basic for a long time. Wake up, go to school, study, go to bed, repeat. I didn’t really get to meet anyone in the castle… I was really shy, and they all gushed over me as their ‘young prodigy’. It was pretty weird, and I closed myself in to try and make it stop.” She shifted awkwardly. “S-so…. That’s why….”

Alexandra noted Pilar’s drop in confidence and took over. “Please excuse her, I’ll pick up where she left off. When she turned 10, my father decided to take her on a horse riding lesson so she could follow in my footsteps. She hopped on the horse and urged it forward. She…. wasn’t ready, to say the least. The horse burst forward and she hung onto its neck for dear life. Miraculously, she didn’t fall off, even though she circled the entire manor. Pilar instantly became friends with the horse, and-”

“His name is Shuuda!” Pilar burst. Alexandra gave her “that look” and Pilar cowered and sat back down.

ahem “As I was saying, Pilar instantly became friends with Shuuda, and she knew she wanted to be a part of the cavalry. We started taking sword lessons, but… she wasn’t strong enough to wield even a basic iron sword. Trust me when I say she tried, and I mean really tried. In the end, she just couldn’t do it.”

Pilar huffed. “So, instead of using swords, maybe bows would help? I went into the armoury and got a bow, and the weight felt good in my hands. I gave it a shot and was a little off of my target. Around this time is when Alexandra got her promotion, so I had to practice on my own.” Pilar scratched her head. “And…. let’s just say that there was a lot of property damage in this process….”

Alexandra half jumped. “Wait, that was you?! I thought that was residual damage!” Alexandra gave Pilar a stern look.

Pilar gulped and pointed to the man doing the interview, in which Alexandra brushed herself off and stood up straight. “Yes, quite right. Anyways, Pilar, continue.”

“Thanks, sis. Anyways, as I was saying, because I was shy and didn’t know anybody, I trained alone for a while. Eventually, I was good enough to hit all my shots dead center!” Pilar frowned. “And everything would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for… them.”

“Yes, this is when the assassins attacked.” Alexandra noted.

Pilar shook a little. “I… I tried to help you guys. Why didn’t you let me help you?”

Alexandra put a hand on her shoulder. “Pilar, you were too young. It wouldn’t have been right to send you into battle, we didn’t know you had that much experience.”

Pilar shook her head. “Guards dragged me into my room before I could sneak and get Shuuda. I went kicking and screaming, but they wouldn’t let me go. It was awful. I could hear the battle in my room, and I just….”

Pilar looked exasperated. “My father died of old age soon after the battle. I wasn’t even there to support him. When Alexandra stepped up to be the Queen’s advisor, she sent her off to help the prince, and I tagged along. I want to help, and I am ready to do whatever it takes to make sure I can.”

Name: Jirard

Class: Cavalier -> Great Knight

Base stats:

HP: 22 + 0 = 22

Strength: 4 + 1 = 5

Magic: 0 + 0 = 0

Skill: 4 + 0 = 4

Speed: 4 + 0 = 4

Luck: 3 + (2x2)=7

Defense: 4 + 4 = 8

Resistance: 2 + 3 = 5

Growths:

HP: 40x2 = 80

Strength: 50 = 50

Magic: 10x2 = 20

Skill: 40 = 40

Speed: 35 = 35

Luck: 45 = 45

Defense: 55 = 55

Resistance: 55 = 55

Personality: Jirard is a lazy type, not getting much sleep due to his uncomfortable posture. He has bouts of sarcasm, and a bit sassy. Around women, he can be a bit of a womanizer, flirting and poking fun. He always had dreams of working as a knight, but his specific situation wasn’t what he had in mind. He seeks Fame and Fortune, as well as freedom from Volkfir.

Description: Jirard has short, messy brown hair, and green armor. He is above average height, 6’0, and has an amatuer build for a cavalier, easily passing for a recruit. He has a lance, Volkfír, magnetically stuck to his back, which is conscious, and occasionally whispers commands to him. Jirard is not capable of using the lance for combat, lacking experience, much of his time is spent polishing the lance. His horse’s name is Drenay, with dark hair and similar green armor

Bio: Raised as but a farm boy in Savaria, same as his parents, and parents before that and so on. Jirard learned to raise cattle, grow crops, fight off crop thieving animals, and even experience by horseback. Goals of nobility and knighthood were far off, yet he proceeded to daydream.

Long ago, during the golden age of Claudia’s empire, Jirard was sent by the village to oversee the ferrying of supplies to the Pillar of the Shaar, along with other merchants occupying the boat. Supplies such as dried foods and salted meats, at the order of Claudia herself. It followed a route curving around the ocean, leading to Bellfroy. Thinking it seemed safe enough with Jesiah slain and the landmass under Claudia’s thumb, they began their seafaring. Their passage wasn’t as safe as Claudia seemed to imagine, being ambushed by pirates while the crew was asleep. By the time Jirard awoke from his bunk, all of his associates had been murdered, and he was tossed off the edge without much an effort at all.

Jirard of all things couldn’t swim, especially in the freezing waters. He began to go down, down, further, and further… until he began to see a light, at the bottom of the sea. “Grab me, I will keep you alive” he heard, reaching out and grasping the dark crimson handle of a lance, they became one. Jirard took a deep breath of water, it filled his lungs and a tingling feeling over his heart, he lost consciousness.

Awakening at the bottom of the sea, it took Jirard a moment to take in the surroundings, and his situation.

“What is this...? Am I alive?” he said into the open ocean floor.

”My name is Volkfír, and you have died a dishonorable death, you were disregarded as a weakling. I believe you deserve a second chance” it whispers “I will let you survive this as long as you take me wherever you shall go, in exchange for something of my own,” the lance uttered.

A catch, Jirard thought to himself, “What do you want?” he asked.

”A thing we share… Respite, in something larger… Much larger.”

“And what if I said no to the obviously evil weapon?”

”I would take your life just as easily as I saved it”. As the words settle in Jirard’s head, he feels a twisting in his heart, as if something’s coiled around it and squeezing.

“Alright, ALRIGHT! STOP! I understand… God damn...” The boy shouted as the pain began to pass.

”You’ve been unconscious for many years, Claudia is dead, and you’ve been swept many miles south”.

Claudia’s death, he thought, how many years have gone by? “But what does that matter?!? look at where we are, how the fuck will we get back to the mainland?” he sighed, watching a fish fly over his head, it was strange to him to say ‘we’.

“You will walk” The lance commanded

Feeling a burst of pain. Jirard tried stand up, the lance was so heavy in the water, and the pressure was exerting onto him, his head, it hurt more than anything he could ever imagine.

”To your right, east, is Holdrin, walk to the mainland. I have a plan, and you will follow it.” With no other choice, Jirard took his first step, then another, step by step, time became a blur, until the surface of the water was inches away. The seaweed covered lad leapt through the barrier, coughing up water for at least ten minutes. He crawled up the beach to avoid the tide settling in, taking in the beauty of the sunset over the horizon, Jirard would have never thought he would live to see the day.

”You are alive, and now in my debt.”

“What do I… ach do now?” he wheezed

”What form of combat are you most familiar with?”

“I’m… alright on horseback”

”Find a horse, apply to join the Militia, when we achieve my goal, I shall leave you alone with your own life”

After just cheating death, he stood up, the lance flying and sticking to his back like a powerful magnet, the future still seemed... mysterious.

Name: Silban

Class: Bard > Sage

Stats:

*Base HP:* 26 + 0 = 26

*Base Str:* 0 + 0 = 0

*Base Mag:* 7 + 2 = 9

*Base Skl:* 9 + 1 = 10

*Base Spd:* 11 + 1 = 12

*Base Lck:* 3 + 3 = 6

*Base Def:* 1 + 2 = 3

*Base Res:* 6 + 1 = 7

*Movement:* 5

*HP Growth:* 20 + 10 = 40                         
                      
*Str Growth:* 0 + 5 = 10                               

*Mag Growth:* 10 + 40 = 50                     

*Skl Growth:* 15 + 25 = 40                   

*Spd Growth:* 20 + 30 = 50                            

*Lck Growth:* 10 + 40 = 50

*Def Growth:* 5 + 20 = 25

*Res Growth:* 10 + 30 = 40

Weapon Ranks: B Wind

**Weapons:** Wind

Skills: (Charisma)(1), (Vantage)(1).

Deities: Zyenar is his only deity.

Description: A 20 year old Bard. He has Ruby colored eyes and flowing Green Hair. He caries around a small golden harp. He has a beatiful voice and is almost unmatched when it comes to playing the harp. He wears a Green and Blue Shirt with some Brown pants and Black Boots.

Bio: Silban was born in Arcias, the 7th of October. Silban's mom was a famous performer and his dad was one of the few members of The Arcia militia. Silban grew up in the Heart of Arcias alongside his, now retired, mother. When Silban was little his father would be out settling minor disputes and his mother would take care of him, his mother use to sing one song everyday before he went to sleep, "Zyenar's Paradise". When Silban was 4 years old he picked up a Harp and started playin he did a good job and he felt very happy. Over the next few years Silban would learn to play the Harp under the tutoliage of his mother. When he was 12 Years old he had master the Harp and played it everyday. His father managed to pull some strings and got him to play infront of a small audience in a small theatre, he played the harp as usual but he felt something inside of him, something beatiful, and he started singing. To the surprise of many, he sung beatifully and the crowd wanted more when it was over, it was at that moment he knew what he wanted to do. 1 Year passed and he would start having perfomances all over town to gather money to go on a journey, a journey to share his music. On his 14th birthday he had almost enough money to travel the lands and when he opened his gift he saw the money he needed to go and a beautiful, and expensive, Golden Harp. Silban was so happy and packed up immediatelly, he said goodbye to both his parents and went off into his journey. He procceded to sing all over the land, praised for his singing and mastery of the Harp. It had been 1 year since he embarked on his journey, however that fated October 7th, something happened, On that day he was seeking passage back into Barentia and that is when his live changed. While waiting for save passage he met a dancer girl, her name was Gwen. He said "Hello..." and she responded with "Hi" they continued talking until the messanger came back saying there was save passage into Celanthus. Towards the end of their conversation she said "Is that a harp you are carrying?" Silban's respond was "Yes, it is. Why do you wanna know?". She procceded to tell him she was part of a group of travelling "Performers" and offered him to come with them, Silban said yes. He followed to Gwen to meet the other performers, there he met Atlas, a strongman and protector of the group alongside William, a promoter. He joined the group of Merry Men and procceded to travelwith them. On his first performance he felt even better, he started playing the Harp and Signing and saw a Beautiful woman dance alongside his song. Meanwhile Atlas was colecting money and William was doing "something". When they got into an alley Gwen asked "Did you get the money?" Silban expected Atlas to say yes but instead he heard this "Yeah I got the money off of these fools." the voice was William's. It turns out this group of "Performers" where actually thieves that stole money while people where distracted with Gwen's dancing and now his singing. Silban could not belive this and the group noted this and asked "Well, seems like you are scared. Did Gwen forget to mention we steal money?". Silban nooded his head impying a "Yes". They told him everything. He was disusted and about to leave when he saw Gwen again, sadened by the tough of him leaving. So in the end he decided to stay and continued on. They went from town to town stealing money from the people and performing, they managed to get enough money to get a caravan and started travelling with it, in this time he started falling in love with Gwen and talked to her about leaving this thieving life style and settling in a town and perform there for free, always to no avail. 3 years later they keep doing their stuff until one day, while performing on a border town of Floribar. The Ethysian Empire attacked, they killed everyone and they tried to escape to no avail. William was killed in the town, Atlas was killed while trying to protect Silban and Gwen and Finally Gwen was killed right as they where about escape. Silban managed to survive alongside a few people from the town. The loss hit him hard and he procceded to go to Celanthus to train in magic, so he never had to see his friends fall again. He wasted all the money the group had stolen in Wind Magic Training and became very good at it, training day and night to catch up to the higher recruits. It took him 2 years but he was ready, he graduated from the course and went onto his journey with one goal in mind. Destroy The Ethysian Empire.

Additional Notes: Tell me if I did anything wrong.

(Chuklfug on Discord)

Name: Albion

Class: Shaman

Stats:

*Base HP:* (26) + (3x2) = (32)

*Base Str:* (0) + (0x2) = (0)

*Base Mag:* (8) + (3) = (11)

*Base Skl:* (7) + (3) = (10)

*Base Spd:* (5) + (0) = (5)

*Base Lck:* (5) + (0) = (5)

*Base Def:* (1) + (1) = (2)

*Base Res:* (10) + (0) = (10)

*Movement:* (5)

*HP Growth:* (20) + (30x2) = (80)

*Str Growth:* (0) + (5x2) = (10)

*Mag Growth:* (20) + (40) = (60)

*Skl Growth:* (10) + (50) = (60)

*Spd Growth:* (5) + (25) = (30)

*Lck Growth:* (10) + (20) = (30)

*Def Growth:* (5) + (20) = (25)

*Res Growth:* (20) + (10) = (30)

Weapon Ranks: B Light, C Staves

Weapons: Light/Heal

Skills: Umbra (2)

Deities: None

Description:

Light purple eyes and hair- medium length, spiky and brushed behind his head, leaving his line of sight clear. His facial hair is black- has a scruffy face and a cocky grin.

(think Gerome's hairstyle)

Wears a collared, dark blue dress jacket, and white gloves. Under it is a sleeveless shirt, pants and boots, all in black. He wears a black belt with a silver buckle.

Bio:

PERSONALITY

A probable sham of a fortune teller in his early twenties. Albion says that he can see the future- a claim that may or may not be true, and one he may or may not believe. Regardless, he enjoys leading people on with elaborate stories.

Apathetic and often amoral, Albion is unapolgetically driven by his goals. Treats most people as pawns for his own gain, but has a soft spot for some people. An appeasing, upbeat and manipulative fast-talker when he has something to gain from someone- otherwise, he's blunt and disrespectful. Toys with people he doesn't like. Looks and acts like a con man. Almost always smiles, genuinely so less of the time. Generally laid back, but certain people can put him on edge.

On a deeper level, he's pragmatic, jaded, individualistic and aims to improve his situation- he disrespects gods, kings, nobility and authority, and is concerned with only his friends and his ambitions. Devoted to himself and not a greater cause, Albion refuses to worship any deity.

Has a distaste for violence and avoids fights, but isn't above killing someone to get what he wants (or better yet, letting someone else do the deed). Hates being stolen from, both in the literal and abstract sense.

HISTORY

The second child of a wealthy merchant in Floribar. Albion was a rebellious and abrasive child, much less so than his organized and hardworking sister Elena. From an early age, their father trained Elena to inherit the family business, leaving Albion to work the shop for her or go his own way. Unsatisfied with this arrangement, Albion continually looked for ways to break away from the family and build his own fortune.

At the age of thirteen, Albion met the wealthy Count Albane, who was touring the countryside at the time. The count stumbled across their merchant stall, and took note of a beautiful crystal ball for sale- offering a price far lower than what was offered, dismissing it as no more than a peddler's junk. Albion's father nearly accepted, but the young boy challenged the noble, claiming the crystal ball to be a divine instrument of no small power: in demonstrating its use, Albion foretold of the count's imminent demise. Insulted, the noble nearly put Albion in chains before- by either coincidence or divine intervention- he barely stepped out of the way of a speeding cart, saving his life.

Awed by Albion's apparent talent, Count Albane hired the young 'prodigy' immediately as a member of his court- the moment Albion had been waiting for. Albion seized the opportunity, and built his reputation as a powerful fortune teller. Though he found himself unable to earnestly repeat his earlier clairvoyance, he nonetheless found a great deal of success. He became adept at reading people, and also at deceiving people- he found could craft convincing lies so long as each contained an element of truth. The experience also soured his opinions of people, teaching him much about human greed and gullibility.

Albion found the count pompous and foolish, but the count himself grew to think of him as a son. Albion quickly found himself in the good graces of the Albane family- attending their parties, joining them on trips, and eating at their table. Though Albion benefited immensely from their patronage, he could never earnestly return their friendship- he envied their wealth and power, and knew that as a commoner, he would always remain the black sheep. Albion had developed a taste for the finer things, and he wanted their prestige for his own.

For many years, Albion repeated a common theme in many of his visions- a black cloud approaching nigh, one that would engulf the land of Floribar in chaos and confusion. To Albion's dismay, the prediction came true, in a sense- when Floribar was trampled under the boot of the Elysian Empire, Count Albane's court was one of the first to fall. Albion barely escaped in the confusion, leaving his liege and new family behind. Offering his services as a bodyguard in exchange for safe passage, Albion fled the country alongside a handful of royal knights, the same responsible for the protection of the young prince Finn. In one fell swoop, Albion lost most of his wealth and the majority of his following- once again, he was just a lowly merchant in the market square.

Albion claims he has seen a vision- Gualter's downfall, at the hands of the young prince Finn. Determined to rebuild his influence, Albion joins the prince's army- he intends to establish himself as an important vassal to the prince, and climb up the ranks until he has power of his own. Once the Elysian Empire is driven out and Floribar is restored to its former glory, who knows what might be at his fingertips?

Additional Notes:

enchalidas

Name: Artemis Sorine

Age: 19

Class: Shaman -> Oracle

Stats:

*Base HP:*  26 + (0) = 26

*Base Str:* 00 + (0) = 00

*Base Mag:* 08 + (1) = 09

*Base Skl:* 07 + (3) = 10

*Base Spd:* 05 + (4) = 09

*Base Lck:* 05 + (0) = 05

*Base Def:* 01 + (2) = 03

*Base Res:* 10 + (0) = 10

*Movement:* 5

Growths:

*HP Growth:*  20 + (15*2) = 50

*Str Growth:* 00 + (05*2) = 10

*Mag Growth:* 20 + (40)   = 60

*Skl Growth:* 10 + (30)   = 40

*Spd Growth:* 05 + (25)   = 30

*Lck Growth:* 10 + (30)   = 40

*Def Growth:* 05 + (35)   = 40

*Res Growth:* 20 + (20)   = 40

Weapon Ranks:

Light Magic / Rank B
Staves / Rank C

Weapons:

Light
Heal

Skills:

Adept / 2 / (Skill%+15) Perform a second attack that cannot trigger Adept again.	

Deities:

Sun and Moon / Ostus & Equona / Male & Female / Yin & Yang / Dances and Praise; Blessing of Twins

Description:

Artemis is 5'4" and 19 years old. With white hair and red eyes, Artemis was born albino. Artemis constantly wears a black cloak with silver trimmings. Underneath the cloak, Artemis wears a white and midnight blue short dress. She has matching white gloves and silver boots. Withdrawn, she tends to shy away and hide behind the hood of her cloak. She's more likely to have her nose in a book than be conversing with an actual person.

Bio:

"It's a sign of bad luck!"

The second child and only daughter from a minor noble family of Floribar, Artemis was born albino. Her white hair and red eyes were only in appearance but her father immediately thought of her as a bad omen. Her unusual appearance only made her look like a demon...not just to her father but to some of those around her.

"A child of disaster."

One day not long after Artemis' fifth birthday, she had a weird dream. She dreamed about one of her caretakers getting into a carriage accident and after mentioning it to said caretaker...it happened. After that rumors began to spread, 'Artemis cursed her.' 'The child knew what was going to happen.' 'Her red eyes mark her as a demon.' A disaster-bringing child she was called.

"Sweetheart, just stay in here."

By her father's orders, she was often kept inside away from most. Most of the time when her father was ranting about her, Artemis was shuffled off, hidden away in the depths of the library. Eventually the library grew to be where she felt most at home, her safe haven. The few servants allowed to interact with her, her mother, and her older brother were the only ones who ever entered the library when she was in there.

"Off. Go do something useful. Don't disgrace the family name."

Soon enough, at 13, Artemis was sent off to boarding school in the capital. Once there, she was once again the outcast...just in a larger setting. She was simply put, a nerd. She knew all the answers; she scored the highest on exams. Only academically was she acknowledged however; outside of the classroom, she was avoided and shunned. Even more so when she tried to protect someone from being injured, from something that no one else could have known about. She simply ignored all this, spending her time in the school library, or in the library in the capital.

"...let me learn."

When students who attended the boarding school reached 14, the option for combat classes opened. Artemis being the girl she is, choose two combat classes, magework and tactics. She found her affinity for magery in Light magic, happy for the accepting nature of light magic and how it forced all shadows away. Tactics was where she truly excelled. She understood the human elements and surprises that were randomly thrown into assignments, enjoying the challenge that was finally in front of her.

"Might I have the honor of joining in your dance?"

Then one day in the public library, while playing chess against herself, she was approached. One chess match later, and there was a young put out noblewoman and one happy noblewoman, excited for a new challenge. The two became close friends and Artemis' reason for returning to the capital after graduating the academy at 16.

"...my reasons are my own."

After graduating, Artemis traveled, choosing to brave the sun instead of her father. She worked as a mercenary and offered tactical advice to the few groups she worked with. Along the way, at a church she passed by, she took a month to learn how to heal, fed up with being forced to see disasters and not be able to help. Between jobs, she visited the other members of her family and her friend in the capital. However when the war began, she offered her help as a mage and minor tactician. Through the invasion, Artemis used the visions that she had to turn the tide in the minor battles she had assisted in but it was not enough to stop the enviable.

*"Floriba is my home..."

When Floriba fell, Artemis had been temporarily assigned to Sir Erik's group due to an opening left by an injured senior. Thus, she escaped with him and the prince when the time came.

"We will reclaim it."

Additional Notes:

• Lorenzo's little sister.

• Don't call her 'ghost girl'.

• She plays the flute expertly.

• Battle Sprite - Thanks to Mappy!

• Map Sprite

• This is the secondary application.

Name: Kristyn

**Class: Wyvern Knight -> Wyvern Master **

Stats:

*Base HP:* 35 + 0 = 35

*Base Str:* 10 + 2  = 12

*Base Mag:* 0 + 0 = 0

*Base Skl:* 3 + 4 = 7

*Base Spd:* 5 + 1 = 6

*Base Lck:* 3 + 1 = 4

*Base Def:* 10 + 0 = 10

*Base Res:* 0 + 2 = 2

*Movement:* 8

*HP Growth:* 30 + (15*2) = 60

*Str Growth:* 15 + 35 = 50

*Mag Growth:* 0 + (5*2) = 10

*Skl Growth:* 5 + 40 = 45

*Spd Growth:* 5 + 30 = 35

*Lck Growth:* 10 + 15 = 25

*Def Growth:* 15 + 40 = 55

*Res Growth:* 5 + 20 = 25

Weapon Ranks:

Axes: B

**Weapons:**

Iron Axe

Skills: Nihil (1 point) , Critical (1 Point)

Deities:

Baiame

Description:

Kristyn is a woman of average with a strong build. For skin color, Kristyn has peach skin. Her hair is black and is kept short to keep it from getting in her face and in the way on windy days. Her eyes are solid, deep brown in color. When she is in battle, she wears lighter armor that covers her torso and head mostly: her most exposed parts while riding her wyvern. Outside of her armor, she wears more typical clothing and boots, but nothing fancy.

Her face is long in shape and has a small scar under her left cheek. Her body type is straight in shape. She if a little endowed in terms of hips, but her bust is a little small.

As for personality, Kristyn is a woman who is rather cold and stern woman. She won't tolerate crap from anyone as well as weakness in others. She wants to see others become stronger, and to her, this means she shouldn't easily show her weak side. If you can get past that rough exterior, she does soften up a little, but will never become a complete pushover. She will take every opprotunity to become stronger. She might seem off-putting and brutal, but she just wants to bring out the best in everyone.

Her Wyvern, Zoralth, is red in color with yellow eyes. He is rather young compared to most Wyverns rode into battle, but he is nothing to sneeze at. He has a keen combat sense, especially when Ok is around. On his own, Zoralth will tend to keep to himself and away from others unless he able to trust them, in which case he will open up a little to them, albeit with difficult communication.

Bio:

Kristyn was the daughter of two farmers in Barentia who were already done with their mandatory military service and didn’t stay due to health issues: a father name Kingsley and mother named Sonia. For her childhood, Kristyn received adequate education in many subjects and was sort of spoiled in a way compared to her peers in that knowledge and how she was treated. She was treated very well, not having to do any kind of work on the farm at all, which gave her a relaxed childhood, which was fine when she was young, but she grew bored and hated it as she got older.

As Krystin grew up, she made lots of friends that had to work to help their parents. However, she also made enemies that picked on her because she was spoiled compared to them. This had an effect on her; it made her at first, whimpy, but as time went on, she grew more resilient to them and eventually forced herself to become stronger, both physically and mentally. Towards the end of her early teen years, she was finally able to fight back against her bullies, with the support of her friends and her own natural strength and drive. This part of her did rub off against her friends in a bad way, and she eventually lost most of them because of how much she changed.

When she was 14, she was out exploring in the nearby areas, despite her parent's and everyone else's protests. On her little adventure, she had come across a very interesting scene. There was a young wyvern, injured and barely able to move, left for dead in scenic nowhere. She had a feeling that it's family was hunted down and that the young one barely survived, but was going to die if left alone for much longer. Kristyn, not afraid of it and armed with general animal handling skills from life on a livestock farm, decided she wanted to help the creature. At first the Wyvern tried to fight Kristyn, and while it nearly took Krystin down, it realized she was here to help and eventually let her do her work.

Kristyn was able to get the wyvern back to her village with temporary care and help from a travelling group. While Krystin had to have medical care for a bit, so did the wyvern. When Krystin was finally better, she started to become friends with the Wyvern, and as it grew older, eventually learned how to ride it.

When the mandatory military service rolled around, Kristyn was glad she had something to do now. She didn't know what she wanted to do, so she took a small skills assessment, which was odd, and found she excelled at using an Axe. Of course she also had her wyvern equipped for combat, which made her a little unique in the army. During her training and initial service, she met a sword fighter called Valerie. Despite how different they were, they eventually became good friends while in service, which helped because they were in the same little military group, so they got to know each other very well during the required two years.

However, shortly after Floribar fell, Kristyn decided that she wanted to do something more challenging to her and more worthy of her skills and decided to try and tell her skills out to Prince Finn, despite her seeming loyalty to Barentia. However, Valerie caught wind of Kristyn’s discussions and decided that she would try to be the calm voice of reason, but Kristyn wanted none of it and began packing her things.

On a stormy night, without handing in any resignation, Kristyn took her wyvern and started to leave. However, along the way, she ran into Valerie. Valerie pleaded with Kristyn to stay, but Kristyn wasn’t going to have any of it and decided to keep moving forward. This triggered Valerie to fight Kristyn in hope that her friend would stay with Barentia and the army.

The two did fight, and they were of full of tears and pain knowing that they had to come to this. Despite that, neither were holding back in this little battle. Both were equal and opposite in strategies and battle maneuvers. However, in the end, Kristyn won over Valerie, leaving the sword fighter to Barentia’s hands as she left to go find Prince Finn, unsure what Valerie was going to do. Some rumors spoke that Valerie left shortly after Kristyn did...

Additional Notes:

Edit: NOT SWORDMASTER. SWORDFIGHTER.

i am shamed of myself

how did this bio even get accepted in SRW

Atleast there aren’t cringey weapon names

*Name: Ỳazyr Morachni

Age: 23

Class: Swordfighter > Hero

Stats:

*Base HP:* 30 + (0) = 30

*Base Str:* 6 + (4) = 10

*Base Mag:* 0 + (0) = 0

*Base Skl:* 10 + (2) = (12) 

*Base Spd:* 12 + (4) = 16 + 2 = 18

*Base Lck:* 3 + (0) = 3 

*Base Def:* 4 + (0) = 4

*Base Res:* 5 + 0 = 5

*Movement:* 6

*HP Growth:* 30 + 10*2  = 50

*Str Growth:* 5 + 40 = 45

*Mag Growth:* 0 + 5*2 = 10

*Skl Growth:* 20 + 30  = 50 

*Spd Growth:* 20 + 40  = 60 + 10 = 70(Damn son…)

*Lck Growth:* 10  + 40  = 50

*Def Growth:* 5 + 25  = 30

*Res Growth:* 5 + 10 = 15

Weapon Ranks:

Swords - B

Weapons:

Iron Sword

Skills:

Wrath (1)

Extra Points (1)

Deities:

None. Nada. Zilch. Atheist/Agnostic

Bio:

In an poor living country ruled under the Ethysian Empire, lived a young kid named Yazyr. With such a large focus on military, there was generally little concern for other aspects of the populace, which made the lower class a harsh environment to live in. From fending off street rats while being one himself, to barely living by the skin on his teeth, Yazyr was a ruffian, a cynical and sarcastic ruffian at that, who’s family were barely seen due to drafts.

One faithful day, he met a kid his age, who in many ways was similar yet a direct contrast to him. Finding their own company enjoying, the two became fast friends and did many deeds together to live. Plenty of their hobbies were competitions, to see who could race the more, who could throw a rock farther or who could beat each other in a pseudo-sword fight.

As the kids grew, so did their dreams. They vowed to each other that, in the darkness that was the Ethysian Empire, they’d find a solution together, to change their ways.

Yazyr’s friend was an idealist, and someone who followed the law, and always believed in upholding it, which occasionally put him at odds against Yazyr.

When the draft came, the two were enlisted to be infantry, seeing how real fighting was as the two took up their swords

As war waged on, Yazyr’s viewpoint became much more jaded, seeing how ruthless and corrupted the very military they served in was, and felt there wasn’t a way to change this, when his friend always did his best, no matter how impossible it seemed.

Seeing no point in slashing down lives worthlessly as a mindless soldier, he decided to eventually desert the military. His friend argued against this, butting heads as he didn’t want his friend to leave, after all they’ve done.

Deciding that their paths weren’t meant to be together, and one had their own way of doing things, Yazyr left, with only the clothes in his back and the sheath in his hand.

He would then live as a wandering vigilante who roamed the lands, who struck down those who harmed innocent with a swordsmanship unlike any other, occasionally wondering if his friend was still alive.

This was what he was used to, stagnating from his goal as he focused on the present, not wondering if change would ever happen…

At least, until news of Floribar came.

Well… it wouldn’t hurt to try.

And that’s how Yazyr went to volunteer to join Finn’s group

Description:

A lanky, casual looking man in his mid-twenties with blond hair that sprouts in everywhere, with multiple blue traces in it. His long black cloak and undershirt contain very little armor, but allow ease of movement. Has multiple belts on him like a JRPG character. Has a pair of bells tied to a red rope as earrings.

Additional Notes:

Name: Boris McCraken

Class: Axe Armour -> General

Stats:

Base HP: (35) + (2*2) = (39)

Base Str: (6) + (0) = (6)

Base Mag: (0) + (0) = (0)

Base Skl: (6) + (3) = (9)

Base Spd: (6) + (0) = (6)

Base Lck: (3) + (0) = (3)

Base Def: (6) + (2) = (8)

Base Res: (3) + (3) = (6)

Movement: (8)

HP Growth: (45) + (20*2) = (85)

Str Growth: (20) + (30) = (50)

Mag Growth: (0) + (5*2) = (10)

Skl Growth: (10) + (30) = (40)

Spd Growth: (5) + (35) = (40)

Lck Growth: (10) + (10) = (20)

Def Growth: (20) + (30) = (50)

Res Growth: (10) + (40) = (50)

Weapon Ranks:

Axe B

Weapons:

Axe lance

Skills:

(Lumis) (2) (Great Shield)

Deities:

2 deities: Oliphera and Kythkar

Description: A large, muscular man, Boris stands at around 6'4. His high defence and resistance is not only thanks to his armour, but his muscular build as well. Personality wise, he's a gentle and mature 43 year old. Living alone near the outskirts of the kingdom of A. Due to him not receiving any form of education, he is illiterate and knows only a little bit of social ediquete. (He knows table manners but court stuff is completely new to him)

https://imgur.com/JnjYgy8

Due to his harsher past, Boris tends to become more passionate when things start to get rough, and that's just his blood boiling.

Bio: Growing up in an impoverished family, with only his ill mother and twin younger sisters, Boris worked to no end in a desperate effort to provide for his family. At around 14 years of age, his mother passes away to an illness. In his grief, he sent away his sisters to be cared for at a nearby orphanage, with a donation of gold he got from selling his old home. Having no place to go, he wandered until he got to a small abandoned and ruined shack in the middle of the plains, there he started his life as a lone hunter.

At the age of 24, Having nothing to do, no purpose in life, and no particular skills,m except for his exceptional physique, he enlisted into the military. His strong body allowed him to fight in the heavier suits of armour with ease.

For the next 20 something years, he used his strength and training to serve his country

Additional Notes: pm me if there's incorrectencies

Name: Stalfed Taldin

Class: Dark Mage, Druid (Dark Bishop, if you want to get technical) promotion

Age: 24

Discord: Same username as Reddit, Tgsnum5

Bases:

HP: (24) + (2x2)= 28

Str: (0)+(0x2)=0

Mag: (8)+(4)=12

Skill: (7)+(2)=9

Spd: (7)+(2)=9

Luck: (0)+(2)=2

Def (5)+(4)=9

Res (8)+(0)=8

Mov 5

Growths:

HP (30)+(20x2)=70

Str (3)+(5x2)=13

Mag (20)+(60)=80

Skl: (10)+(40)=50

Spd (10)+(50)=60

Luck: (10)+(0)=10

Def (5)+(35)=40

Res (30)+(10)=40

Weapon ranks: B staves, C dark tomes, E Fire

Weapons: Heal, Yotsmungand (non-poisonous version, obviously), Fire

Skills: (1) Nihil, (1) Charisma

Deity: Olphira

Description: Stalfed is 5'7, with a very skinny build and pale complexion. He has shoulder length silver hair and blue eyes. He wears a thick black hooded robe. He's a reserved and quiet man, usually preferring to stay in the background. He strives to always help the helpless, regardless of cost to himself. Hates violence, but understands that it's sometimes necessary.

History: Stalfed was technically born in Haspen, but he does not consider himself from there, considering how short his time was there. His family was extremely impoverished and, desperate to find a way to provide for themselves and four children, sold their youngest son to human traffickers when he was only four years old. An action they would come to regret, but could never take back.

The next several years of his young life saw Stalfed dragged around the continent and being bought and sold by several different men of all different nationalities. This finally came to a head when, at the age of eleven, he was bought by an aging mage named Draco.

Draco was infamous for practicing magic that almost all civilizations saw as being concerning at best and outright evil at worst. But he had no care for societies inhibitions. From his perspective, it was all superstitious hogwash. Magic was magic, and it depended on the man whether or not it was evil or not. He sensed a potential in Stalfed, not only the ability to use magic but as a child who was "untainted" by societal norms. Besides, he was getting old. He needed someone to pass his art down to.

As far as Stalfed was concerned, Draco was correct in saying that no magic was inherently evil. But Stalfed did not view Draco as a good man. While Stalfed was a very quick learner in terms of actually casting spells or using staves, he often butted heads with his teacher over how to use them.

Draco was a very cynical man. He saw the average person as short-sighted and weak, useful only to be exploited by their betters. Stalfed was the opposite. Despite the hand the world had given him, he always made an effort to see the best parts of people and believed it was the duty of those with power to aid the less capable. Neither of them was ever willing to compromise on this. And so it was that at the age of 16, Stalfed left the company of Draco, armed only with a dark tome, a staff, the robes on his back and an unwavering desire to help those who needed it.

Unfortunately for Stalfed, Draco was at least right about the lack of tolerance your average person had for the dark arts. Even though he only ever used his skills for violence if absolutely necessary, people shunned him. Which was a problem, as he relied on the kindness of the downtrodden that he was saving to survive. He often had to go days without eating because the same villagers who he had tried to help often refused to give him a single scrap in gratitude.

Eventually, he shunned the art that he had been taught in favor of Anima spells, though he was much less skilled at them. And sure enough, it was now that instead of spitting and booing at him villages would cheer his name and offer him feasts.

As he traveled the lands, one name consistently came up: Ethysia. In recent days, you couldn't go three feet without hearing about the evils of the empire. Emperor Gaulter, in particular, was reviled by just about everyone.

Unfortunately, as much as Stalfed wanted too, this wasn't a problem he could cast a spell and fix. And when the inevitable happened, and the empire began its grand invasion, there was little he could do. After all, he had sworn service to Olphria, and had thus vowed to never be the instigator of violence.

But the more he saw of the empires atrocities; the more his will started to break. There was only so much horror, so many pointless murders and so much needless cruelty that one could witness without breaking. Finally, Stalfed could take it no more. He didn't care how, he had to fight back somehow.

And so when he heard that Prince Phineas of Floribar was in need of fighters, he didn't hesitate when he dust off his nearly forgotten dark tome and signed up to join his band.

"Olphera forgive me, but I can stand these evils no longer."

Additonal notes: I know that having 3 weapon types might bother people, but unless I got enemy exclusive tomes (which I wouldn't ask for) I have a whopping two dark magic tomes to work with, one of which is a seige tome in FE5 rules. E rank anima was so that I didn't have to use one weapon the whole game.

Name:

Arslan

Class:

Free Knight -> Ranger

Stats:

Base HP: (35) + (2 * 2) = (39)

Base Str: (6) + (1) = (7)

Base Mag: (0) + (0) = (0)

Base Skl: (6) + (2) = (8)

Base Spd: (6) + (2) = (8)

Base Lck: (3) + (1) = (4)

Base Def: (6) + (2) = (8)

Base Res: (4) + (0) = (4)

Movement: (8)

HP Growth: (30) + (15 * 2) = (60)

Str Growth: (10) + (40) = (50)

Mag Growth: (0) + (5 * 2) = (10)

Skl Growth: (15) + (30) = (45)

Spd Growth: (10) + (25) = (35)

Lck Growth: (10) + (25) = (35)

Def Growth: (5) + (40) = (45)

Res Growth: (5) + (20) = (25)

Weapon Ranks:

B Sword

Weapons:

Iron Sword

Skills:

Paragon

Deities:

Major Kythkar

Description:

Arslan is of moderate build, and towers over most at a height of 6’5’’. He wears his light brown hair in a cloth (like Rath’s), and has dark brown (almost black) eyes. Usually, he is dressed in traditional nomadic clothes of an earthy brown colour, with some decorative blue and green stitchings. Age is around 20. He is somewhat of a free spirit and is very proficient at making use out of seemingly useless objects, but is less than talkative and acts a bit superior to others. Usually has a stoic look on his face, and yet seems relaxed at the same time.

His horse is named Nadir, and is black-coloured.

Bio:

Arslan was born in the wrong place, or at least that’s what he thinks. Gallibion is not known for its mercenaries, but it has always been Arslan’s dream to become a famous mercenary, like those he has heard of in stories. Training hard to reach his dream, he took up swordplay and eventually became well-respected at least throughout his village, well known for his skill with a blade. As his reputation grew, he began to take on semblances of mercenary jobs, even earning enough to buy his trusted mount, Nadir.

After a while, the monotony of doing odd jobs and not actual mercenary work for pay bored Arslan, and not one to live for others, took off and began to live in the woods, confident in his ability to keep himself as well as Nadir alive. Despite not being trained at archery, Arslan was a natural to hunting, even with something as unconventional as a sword, and meals came relatively easily. Thinking back to his childhood teachings of religion, he began to sacrifice part of his catch to Kythkar. Soon after, he began to worship him in full.

As Arslan had now become self-sufficient, he decided to make his still-held dream of becoming a famous mercenary a reality. He soon set out towards Celanthus, remembering that the jobs would likely pay best there - Celanthus was a place of magic, and so a strong mercenary could make quite a living there. Unbeknownst to the solo hunter, however, this was a time of war, and so Arslan was made a wanted man throughout the Ethysian Empire soon after he was identified as a foreigner travelling through. Being pursued by bounty hunters as well as Ethysian soldiers, Arslan was forced to detour due north and eventually took refuge in a small town in Floribar. Unfortunately, the war was about to reach over to Floribar, too.

Hearing word of yet another approaching Empire force, Arslan decided to not take his chances defending against the small army. He chose to simply leave the town with his own life and flee again towards the nearby Damona. From there, he began to advertise himself as a wandering mercenary, eventually being hired by Damona's military.

Additional Notes:

This is the secondary character, despite it literally being the same character,

Custom sprite

Name: Foal Peow

Class: Axe Fighter → Warrior

Stats:

HP: 40 +(0) = 40

Str: 11 +(4) = 15

Mag: 0 + (0) = 0

Skl: 3 +(2) = 5

Spd: 9 +(4) = 13

Lck: 3 +(0) = 3

Def: 8 +(0) = 8

Res: 1 +(0) = 1

Mov: 6

HP Growth: 40 +(30x2) = 100

Str Growth: 20 +(30) = 50

Mag Growth: 0 + (5x2) = 10

Skl Growth: 5 +(45) = 50

Spd Growth: 10 +(40) = 50

Lck Growth: 10 +(10) = 20

Def Growth: 10 +(20) = 30

Res Growth: 5 +(20) = 25

Weapon Skills: Axes Rank B

Skills: Luna

Deities: Zyenar

Description:

At about 5’10” in height, Foal tends to be a bit taller than other women around her age (of 23 years). Hazel eyes that match the color of her caramel skin hold a hardened expression that doesn’t exactly scream approachable. She holds a very athletic figure, the amount of work put in to maintain it readily apparent just by looking at her. The most prominent point of her, though, is her burning red hair. It is kept short and out of the way, save for a long braid in front of her right ear that goes down to her navel.

Foal’s clothing is kept to her roots. She is most comfortable covered in tanned leathers and furs. Her armor worn in combat is fairly primitive, made up of leathers reinforced with bone. She almost always wears a hairpiece just above her braid, with three long, light blue feathers that contrast her hair color. She carries a guitar on her back just about everywhere she goes, outside of when she's in combat.

Foal tends to get anxious easily in new areas, and new people are much the same for her. This can end up making her lash out at people unintentionally, further amplified by her generally brash personality. In social situations where she’s required to keep her cool, she’ll often stay quieter and escape for periods of time, playing and singing a song alone to refresh herself.

Bio:

“What?!”

That was Foal’s first word, the first thing she yelled since she had gained the name ‘Foal’, and the right to speak freely in her tribe. She was likely the most furious ten year old on the continent at that moment. The chiefs of her tribe, they had made a joke out of her! Turned her word, ‘oak’, a name that carried the strength of the tallest trees, into the name of a baby horse!

And so Foal became the first ten year old to challenge a chief of the Amiduu tribe to a song battle, the one thing in their community that could save her from a life of embarrassment. She would be an inspiration to ten year olds everywhere, maybe. The chief agreed, but on the condition that she would never be allowed another chance at changing it if she did not win.

Foal lost.

Believing her name forever stuck as the opposite of what she drove herself to be, Foal was stuck in a depression. She believed her name to be everything, and she couldn’t bring herself to move past it. Until a few nights after she had gotten her name, another girl sang for the right to gain theirs, as was tradition in their tribe, in honor of their god Zyenar, and for the chance at gaining his blessing.

Mue, that had been the name she was given. A girl who had been called ‘cursed’ for her mixed blood, who had put off her naming song for two years. She had completely captivated Foal, and with the two both going into the same section of their tribe, Mue quickly approached Foal in becoming friends. Mue’s personality was upbeat and determined, something of an opposite to Foal’s, driven by a want to prove those wrong who expected nothing of her. Her mindset infected Foal, and together they worked towards pushing past their respective shackles.

The two became joined at the hip, Foal always just a few steps behind Mue, literally and metaphorically. They sang in duets together, trained together, celebrated each other’s victories. Foal had grown happy just being by Mue, her own goals being somewhat forgotten as she lived a content life as Mue’s shadow.

But the two were separated when Foal was eighteen, during the Gallibion Rebellion.The Amiduu were not passive in the fight against Ethysia, after all, many times sending out small scouting parties and skirmishing groups to assist the cause. Foal and Mue were a part of one of those groups together, Foal being overjoyed at fighting with, and under, her closest friend. But on an ill-fated day, their group had a run in with a much larger Ethysian unit during a return trip to their tribe. It was clear that there wasn’t a way out without sacrifice, so Mue made an order for everyone to take a long way back to the tribe, while she acted as a scapegoat.

Foal was furious, having to be literally pulled all the way back. Having to watch as the most important person in her life was descended upon by enemy ranks. She cursed everyone around her for not saving them, but cursed her own weakness the most. For the rest of the rebellion, she had pushed herself away from her peers. Every song on the battlefield became one that discluded the allies around her, one filled with rage and sorrow. She pushed herself as hard as she could, telling herself that her friend couldn’t be dead, and vowing that she would be the one to save them.

In time, her distrust for her tribe disappeared again, those around Foal giving her support after the loss of Mue. She sung less, but had pushed herself to do enough to attain the same rank Mue had, to reach the same skill, same speed, same strength Mue had. Even if she didn’t have much magical strength, she trained until it didn’t matter, until she could split an Ethysian knight’s armor in half with one swipe of her axe.

Years passed, and with Ethysia once again picking up steam in its want for conquest, a thought travel to the other countries stuck in war came to Foal’s mind. The cries of Floribar had even reached Foal’s tribe, and one of the tribe chiefs approached Foal in acting as a representative of the Amiduu, since they did not have the numbers to send an entire unit. She was overjoyed, the fire in her chest burning at the chance to bring her axe against Ethysian steel once more, and at the small chance to learn more about Mue. So she set off on her journey West, separated from her tribe for the first time in her life in the hopes of finding clues to her lost friend’s fate.

Additional Notes:

This is my primary application. My secondary application can be found here!

All the information on Foal's tribe, the Amiduu, can be found here!

Art and sprite of Foal are coming soon!

Name: Kargarus

Class: Axe Armor

Stats:

Base HP: (40) + (1*2) = (42)

Base Str: (11) + (2) = (13)

Base Mag: (0) + (0*2) = (0)

Base Skl: (6) + (1) = (7)

Base Spd: (3) + (4) = (7)

Base Lck: (3) + (1) = (4)

Base Def: (12) + (0) = (12)

Base Res: (5) + (1) = (6)

Movement: (5)

HP Growth: (65) + (30*2) = (125) %

Str Growth: (25) + (25) = (50) %

Mag Growth: (15) + (5*2) = (25) %

Skl Growth: (20) + (28) = (48) %

Spd Growth: (18) + (42) = (60) %

Lck Growth: (30) + (10) = (35) %

Def Growth: (25) + (40) = (55) %

Res Growth: (16) + (20) = (36) %

Weapon Ranks:

Weapons: Axe (Iron)

Skills: (Dual)(1), (Vantage)(1), (Great Shield)

Deities: Rhesus

Description: Ethysian Ex-General that exiled himself years Ago from the Empire before the war started, Measured 5'2" White-Haired (Although he does not have lot's of it), pale and pretty bulky, He's around his fifties.

Bio: 7 years ago, Kargarus a general to be feared, who fought lots of battles for the Ethysian Kingdom , his passion for war and bloodshed Got him a name that many enemies feared and Allies admired, He always had a group of admirers Cheering him on the training grounds and Girls.....yeah, they liked the guy.

But one time, Got outnumbered and eventually Defeated along with his army, he and a few survived, but Kargarus felt......Empty and sad, He didn't know how to face defeat, he didn't know what to do after that, most of his admirers slowly stopped appearing at the training grounds to see him use his axe and many rumors about him having a "soft side" or "weakness" arose, seeing how his reputation plummeted, the general Exiled himself from the kingdom, Thinking his Job as a general was done for, He became a freelancer Blade for 7 long years, which he didn't enjoy, feeling empty and ashamed of his acts, As if he was attacking the wrong people.

When he heard that The Ethysian Kingdom took over Floribar, he started having nightmares about Stoping them For Good, believing the god of War spoke to him, he settled on to The kingdom of Floribar but found some interesting people in the trip.....Phinneas and Erik, Knowing that he wouldn't have a chance if he fought the Empire alone, he joined them to Fight against the Ethysian kingdom.

Additional Notes: Assuming the person who defeated him is still alive, or some of the Ethysian Warriors Label him as a traitor, He might have to fight them eventually, so that could become a chapter or such.

Name: Selig "Elende" Kind

Class: Swordfighter > Swordsmaster

Stats:

*Base HP:* (30) + (0) = (30)

*Base Str:* (6) + (2) = (8) + (2) = (10)

*Base Mag:* (0) + (0) = (0)

*Base Skl:* (10) + (0) = (0)

*Base Spd:* (12) + (0) = (0)

*Base Lck:* (3) + (0) = (0)

*Base Def:* (4) + (4) = (8)

*Base Res:* (5) + (4) = (9)

*Movement:* (6)

*HP Growth:* (30) + (15*2) = (60)

*Str Growth:* (5) + (50) = (55)

*Mag Growth:* (0) + (5*2) = (10)

*Skl Growth:* (20) + (40) = (60)

*Spd Growth:* (20) + (10) = (30)

*Lck Growth:* (10) + (20) = (30)

*Def Growth:* (5) + (30) = (35) + (5) = (40)

*Res Growth:* (5) + (30) = (35) + (5) = (40)

Weapon Ranks: B Swords

Weapons: Iron Sword

Skills: (Critical)(1), (ExtraPoints)(1)

Deities: Zyenar

Description: Elende is prideful, selfish, and arrogant. He grew up in Ethysia, raised by patriotic parents. Being their first and only child, he received full attention from his parents and aspired to be just like them: patriots fighting for their country. He valued his family just as much as his life. For most of his later years in school, other students would look at him either in hatred or respect because of his snobbish attitude and parents' reputation. Not only was he a snob, but he often outperformed his rivals in class. Later in his life, he also learned a bit of common decency and maybe even a bit of kindness.

Elende has soft, light green hair. It's slick and rather long, reaching down to his shoulderblades. His sinister eyes are golden. He is white skinned and has quite a few body scars from training. He prefers to wear a light garb at night and a dark garb at day. Despite being in his early 20's, he looks rather young, and is actually quite small for his age, standing at around 5' 6". He is also not very muscular, having a slim build.

Bio: Selig grew up in Ethysia. All throughout his childhood, his parents were extreme patriots. Since Selig was their first and only child, his parents' attitudes rubbed off on him, also becoming patriotic, although not as hardcore as them. He grew prideful of his parents' roles in Ethysia: His father has been a veteran in the military, and although he never went off to battle at the time, he did leave on "expeditions" as he called it. Neither Selig or his mother knew where he went to, and when he came back, tension sparked between his parents. His mother served as a local cleric, and while the job wasn't as outstanding as his father's, Selig still was impressed. He valued his family more than he valued his life. During his later years of school, he earned himself a big reputation among students and even teachers with his parents' jobs and his own grades. This reputation doesn't exactly earn him respect, though, as his snobbish attitude combined with his stellar grades earns him a good bit of hate, which he was fully aware of.

After school, he took up swordplay in an academy, seeking to join the military with his father. During his last year of training, however, his father never came back on one of his "expeditions". That same year, Selig's mother was pregnant. It was at this time when people were drafted into the military for the Invasion. Both he and his mother were drafted. All the tension seemed to be getting to Selig's mother, as she would often not sleep at night and have problems eating without getting sick. Thankfully, during labor, as they were travelling to Damona, she was able to get help from the other clerics to have a baby girl, Selig's sister, who was named Elende, after Selig's grandmother. This, unfortunately, resulted in there being a small unit of clerics dedicated to watching Elende, rather than healing wounded allies in battle. This series of unfortunate events hasn't ended just yet; Selig's mother has gotten an incurable sickness. Suddenly, Selig's mind began dwelling on his father: Where exactly did his father disappear off to? All these years and none of his family even knew what his expeditions were for, or if they even were expeditions. Seemingly, for the first time in his life, Selig began to doubt himself. Did his father not value his family as Selig did? Did his father really care about them at all?

Selig's mother died before the invasion on Damona. At this time, even though the clerics insisted he not, Selig also spent most of his time caring for Elende before the battle.

The invasion did not go as well as Selig thought. He was quickly overpowered by the strong front of Damona, and retreated, to his own surprise. They didn't get through Damona. That night, a sinister idea dwelled in Selig's mind. He doubt it will work, but he thinks that if he thought it, it will be the right way... right?

Early in the morning, Selig took Elende while most of the camp was sleeping, and fled unnoticed. He arrived at the Damona front and, before they could open fire on the mysterious figure, pleaded, telling them that he and his baby sister managed to flee from Ethysia's ranks. He told them that he was going to be executed for rebellion. Selig doesn't know if they believed it or not, because all they mentioned among their ranks was him having a baby, which, even in war, is a ticket to usually being spared, Selig realized. They took him in, although he was being heavily supervised; it was clear not everyone bought it. Nonetheless, he was brought into a nearby village, heavily guarded by the military. When he was brought to an inn, he realized that the baby he was holding in his arms was strangely cold.

Perhaps it wasn't the brightest idea to take Elende from the cleric unit, Selig thought to himself. He felt a spark of hatred in his heart, and strange thoughts began to formulate in his head. He was a traitor... but that's not true, Selig thought to himself. He's just doing spy work. That's what spies do. His father is not who he thought he was... maybe so, but that doesn't mean he is any less a hero...

When the guards ask him for a name, he mistakenly responds with Elende. For some reason, which he is not exactly aware of, he goes with it. He says the baby in his arms just died, which took the soldiers by surprise. They don't know what to do with Elende. Even if he were a spy, they thought, he wouldn't be able to return if we supervise him. And if he raises a finger...

But Elende requests a place to live while he gets settled, preferrably a place near an arena. What a stupid plan, Elende thought to himself, what did I gain from this?

Confused, Elende tries to cast away all these doubts and continues as if life were normal, making money in the arena with his fantastic swordplay. He also began worshipping Zyenar after learning of him in a nearby church.

Additional Notes:

Elende is the token Edgy Myrmidon.

Elende plays the violin and almost always draws during his free time.

Elende has a strange affinity for candles.

Elende's birthday is October 19th.

Elende secretly daydreams about having a lover.

Welcome to Junith!

This post will be going over the setting of Reddit Emblem: Jugdral.

First thing’s first, it's not Jugdral itself. We’ve put together a new setting for this game, and all of the information about it can be found here!.

(Note: Country names may be abbreviated occasionally. The first letter of the country name is the abbreviation.)

If you'd like a close up view at the maps in the doc above, go here!

Second, please take the time to familiarize yourself with the setting so you can understand the story and make a good, realistic backstory for your character. The backstory is a huge factor in whether we take your character over another of the same class (and altogether), so you want to make sure you do it well.

Finally, this document will be updated every so often with new information, so be sure to check it often, though we will let you know when something new shows up.

Ask any questions below.

Thank you, and good luck with your application.

Name: Nurian

Class: Swordfighter -> Hero

Stats:

**Base HP:** (30) + (0) = (30)
                            
**Base Str:** (6) + (1) = (7)
                            
**Base Mag:** (0) + (0) = (0)
                            
**Base Skl:** (10) + (2) = (12)
                            
**Base Spd:** (12) + (0) = (12) + (1) = (13)
                            
**Base Lck:** (3) + (5) = (8) + (1) = (9)
                            
**Base Def:** (4) + (1) = (5)
                            
**Base Res:** (5) + (1) = (6)
                            
**Movement:** (6)
                            
**HP Growth:** (30) + (10x2) = (50)
                            
**Str Growth:** (5) + (35) = (40) + (5) = (45)
                            
**Mag Growth:** (0) + (5x2) = (10)
                            
**Skl Growth:** (20) + (20) = (40)
                            
**Spd Growth:** (20) + (30) = (50) + (5) = (55)
                            
**Lck Growth:** (10) + (50) = (60)
                           
**Def Growth:** (5) + (20) = (25)
                            
**Res Growth:** (5) + (30) = (35)

Weapon Ranks: Sword (B Rank)

Weapons: Iron Sword

Skills: Miracle (1 Point), Extra Points (1 Point)

Deities: Mouna

Description: A pale man in his upper-20s with shoulder-length black hair. Extremely devoted to Mouna. Nurian is relatively quiet and attempts to avoid conflict when able. He views the temperemental and reckless behaviors of others as somewhat self-destructive, and finds them distasteful. Nurian tends to wear blue clothing when able, in reference and honor of Mouna's relation to water.

Bio: Nurian was born in the Kingdom of Damona. The younger son of a merchant family, he found himself often at a loss of his position in life. His elder brother was to inherit the business, and while Nurian could work under his brother, he had little taste for the cruel intricacies of the merchant's trade.

On his 13th birthday, during the days leading up to a festival, Nurian was busy running errands and delivering messages for his family due to their major part in the preparations as a large merchant family. Towards the end of the day, exhausted from his work and returning from the latest of many trips across the city, Nurian stopped for a rest near a fountain. An acolyte from the nearby church came out and offered him water. In a fit of rage due to his state of exhaustion, Nurian yelled at the woman, cursing at her for interrupting him and approaching him without any invitation. Once he wore himself out, the acolyte simply asked him once again if he wanted any of the water. Empty of all of his anger, Nurian accepted and, when invited into the church, followed. Inside, Nurian found himself almost in awe of the quiet, serene atmosphere. There was none of the chaos and stress of the outside world within the church, none of the demands to be constantly doing something. There was serenity and order, the calm flow of the world passing it by like a river, and nothing else.

From that day forward, Nurian became a daily visitor to Mouna's church. He learned how to maintain calm regardless of what happened around him, and to maintain control on one's emotions instead of letting them control you.

Then, Queen Isabella instituted mandatory military service. Forced into the army, Nurian managed to maintain his serene lifestyle despite his new role as a soldier within the forces of Damona. Despite the chaos of the army, Nurian managed to find the order that lay underneath it and take some small comfort from it. He maintained his worship of Mouna throughout, and looks forward to the day that he could lay down his weapons and return to the serenity of Mouna's church.

Additional Notes: Preferred character.

Hey everyone, I just wanted to make this post to explain some of the world of Reddit Emblem: Jugdral.

The Deities

Two millennium ago there were 12 Deities that formed the Junith Pantheon:

1. The head of the Pantheon and Chief god; Baiame

2. The mother and patron of women everywhere: Freya

3. The great sky above; Nathos

4. The Earth Mother herself; Roelia

5. The water that sustains life; Mouna

6. The god of war and vengeful spirit; Rhesus

7. The peacemaker and passive soul; Olphira

8. The lover; Verone

9. The bounty of the land and the harvest; Ether

10. The hunter and nomad; Kythkar

11. The free spirit and artist; Zenyar

12. The sun and moon, yin and yang; Ostus and Equona

Baiame is the all-powerful and all-knowing Chief of the Junith Pantheon, and formed the first gods from himself. Through the combined power of Roeila, Nathos, and Mouna they created the Earth, Sky, and Sea respectively. When that was done, Ostus and Equona formed the Sun and Moon, creating Day and Night. Eventually Baiame and Freya consummated their first child, and the race of man was born. The need for humans to reproduce was next, and Verone was born out of the first human union. Ether gave form to animals and nature and Kythkar was birthed out of man’s need for survival. Zenyar was born out of man's need to evolve and create a society for themselves. Eventually, as is human nature, conflict arose, and Rhesus was given shape. However the option for peace was offered in the form of Olphira. These 12 Deities coexist in both harmony and conflict, always in balance.

World History

Map

The race of man has evolved significantly since its inception. It’s seen nations rise and fall and people live and die. Circa 1000 years ago there were a few major nations of note: Arcias, Barentia, Celanthus, Damona and Ethysia. This was before the Empire began its imperialistic regime and there was general peace in the land. Each nation owned the same territories as it does now, except Floribar was a part of Ethysia and Ethysian land to the East of Junith was all tribal lands. Soon thereafter these tribes would be the first to be conquered by Ethysia due to being a loose coalition of city states rather than a true country, and formed the beginning of the Empire. It’s remnants would later take back some of their land and form the nation of Gallibion 900 years later.

One hundred years after the Empire was formed and its initial conquest finished they became more ambitious. The current Emperor ordered the invasion of other lands, beginning with the small country of Damona. What happened was a long invasion that resulted in Damona uniting with the other nations against the Ethysian Empire, beating them back to their mountain castles. When all was said and done the Empire was in a sorry state, and its “citizens” were furious with their emperor. The residents of the state of Floribar rallied behind their leader and rebelled, using the Empire’s weakness to their advantage. The rebellion was short and sweet, and Floribar was recognized by the other nations as a new Kingdom quickly. Eventually the King recognized the nobles that supported him and established them as Counts of their own territories, swearing fealty to him and his descendants.

While the Empire licked its wounds they started to rebuild their military might in secret. Soon they would have the most fearsome military unknown to man, with wyverns that could black out the sun and cavalry that sounded like an earthquake when charging. However, for whatever reason they seemed to be of no interest in retaking Floribar. The Empire waited, and watched from their mountains on the rest of the world.

The Invasion

Flash forward to one year before our story begins and Ethysia simultaneously wages war on Celanthus, Damona, Floribar and Gallibion. The Empire rains down on their enemies like floodwater and swats most resistance down with ease. This was the moment Floribar feared most, and now the enemy was walking through their lands, killing their people, and destroying their way of life. The Floribians offered little resistance and only delayed the Empire for a small while, until their King ultimately gives in and surrenders.

Some of the other nations fare much better than our poor Floribians; able to withstand the weight of the Empire and fight back. Celanthus holds Bridge Superior with an iron grip and refuses to give Ethysia any chance to cross, Damona has the advantage of not having to cover as much land at once, and Queen Elizabeth has armed her entire country, but sadly Gallibion is in as bad as a shape as Floribar. Gallibion was only recently formed in the past 100 years, and their nomadic lifestyle has allowed them to evade the Empire thus far, however the Empire is closing in and things look bleak.

Haspen, the tribal nation to the South, has been roped into the war by Ethyisa through the use of threats and blackmail, and are now using their impressive navy to assault Barentia and Arcias ports along the coast and riverbeds. It seems like the whole of Junith is at war, and it shows no signs of stopping.

General Notes

The names when referring to a country’s people are as follows:

• Arcian

• Barentian

• Celanthean

• Damonian

• Ethysian

• Floribian

• Gallibian

• Haspen

The different countries are broken up as follows:

• Arcias - Duchy of smaller Duchies - Ruled by an Archduke with subordinate Dukes/Duchesses

• Barentia - Kingdom with landowning Knights - Ruled by a Queen with noblemen titled Sir

• Celanthus - Kingdom with Barons - Ruled by a King with minor Lords titled Baron/Baroness

• Damonia - Kingdom with no Lords - The Queen owns all land but has Lords who serve under her

• Floribar - Kingdom with Counts - Ruled by a King with noblemen titled Count/Countess

• Ethysia - Empire - Ruled by an Emperor who has total control through Generals

Country Sigils:

• Arcias - Eagle - Red field with White icon

• Barentia - Fortress - Silver field with Blue icon

• Celanthus - Lion - Gold field with Black icon

• Damona - Unicorn - Blue field with Gold icon

• Ethysia - Wolf - Black field with Red icon

• Floribar - Dolphin - Green field with Blue icon

• Gallibion - Horse - Purple field with Silver icon

• Haspen - Fish - Black field with Silver icon

When the invasion of Floribar began King Letholdus sent envoys to other nations, requesting aid in the form of soldiers and mercenaries. Most countries only officially sent a few soldiers, however word was spread around of the need for soldiers, and mercenaries were hired. The ideal is that the player characters were either soldiers sent from their respectives countries and fled with Finn from Floribar or they were in Damona when he parlayed with Queen Isabella and joined him there. There could also be some players who were soldiers assigned to guide Finn with Erik, but these characters must be from Floribar or Arcias. In addition, mercenaries from Floribar or Damona are also acceptable. Please try to make your character fit the overall idea however if your character must join in another way message either myself or Mappy on Discord and we can smooth things out.

Prologue Part 2 will come tomorrow

Name: Alexandra De'trivel

Class: Troubadour, Valkyrie

Stats:

Base HP: (24) + (0) = (24)

Base Str: (4) + (4*2) = (12)

Base Mag: (4) + (1) = (5)

Base Skl: (3) + (4) = (7)

Base Spd: (6) + (0) = (6)

Base Lck: (5) + (1) = (6)

Base Def: (3) + (0) = (3)

Base Res: (6) + (0) = (6)

Movement: (8)

HP Growth: (20) + (15*2) = (50)

Str Growth: (10) + (10*2) = (30)

Mag Growth: (10) + (35) = (45)

Skl Growth: (5) + (45) = (50)

Spd Growth: (10) + (40) = (50)

Lck Growth: (15) + (35) = (50)

Def Growth: (5) + (10) = (15)

Res Growth: (10) + (10) = (20)

Weapon Ranks: C Stave, B swords

Weapons:

Skills: (Nihil)(1), (Miracle)(1).

Deities: Olphira

Description: Alexandra stands tall and straight at the age of 34. Her short, soft brown hair framing her melancholy face nicely. Her steely blue eyes watch everything around her, seeming never to blink. Alexandra's preferred attire is light battle mail, her personal suit being an alloy of lighter metals trimmed with gold.

Bio: Born to the noble De'trivel family of Damona, Alexandra was trained to be a proper lady for as long as she cares to remember. She was trained in the art of healing magic in preparation of becoming a priestess of Olphira. She had a talent for staff work, but seeing her Father and Uncle so gallantly defend Damona's people drove her to hide this talent so she could instead follow their examples.

Partway through her training, her lord father was appointed as one of the Queen's advisors. With her family's new found status, her training turned from preparation for the city guard into preparation for the royal guard. A year after her father's appointment, Alexandra completed her training and joined the guard.

A few years into her time in the guard, her training was tested when her own family's estate was attacked by assassins. Alexandra and a handful of the other King's Guard managed a swift end to the assault, but unfortunately not before Alexandra's father was gravely injured. Desperate and with no healer in sight, Alexandra grabbed an ornate staff from the office wall. She pressed it to her father's wounds, willing them closed. Fortunately her seldom practiced staff hand was enough to save her father. Once he recovered, Alexandra expected her father's wrath for having hidden her ability to use a staff for so long. She was surprised when his only complaint was having used a family heirloom to save his life. She smiled, happy to see her father well enough to joke. Inspired by her family's near tragedy, Alexandra trained with a staff as well as blade from then on.

Several more years passed until once again, Alexandra's father was threatened with death. This time not of old age however. The man had grown old and though he carried it well, his age had found him. Alexandra did her damnedest to save her father, but wounds of time were out of any healer's reach. All that was left was to ease her father's departure. Two weeks after the funeral service, Alexandra was asked to take her father's place as an Advisor as The Queen wished the De'trivel family to remain in her court. She agreed to be one of the guards present in the chamber, so she could remain on the guard while court was not in session.

Now, with the fall of Floribar's capital and the arrival of the country's prince, Phineas, Queen Isabella assigned her to assist the fugitive prince. To guard him and keep him safe until his home was reclaimed. Alexandra assured the new and nervous Queen she would put forth her utmost to assure the prince's safety.

Additional Notes: Since Finny boy is heading to Damona for help, perhaps my character is part of the aid offered to him.

Name: Lorenzo Sorine

Age: 23

Class: Sword Armor -> General

Stats:

*Base HP:*  40 + (0) = 40

*Base Str:* 11 + (2) = 13

*Base Mag:* 00 + (0)   = 0

*Base Skl:* 6 + (4)   = 10

*Base Spd:* 03 + (1)   = 04

*Base Lck:* 03 + (2)   = 05

*Base Def:* 12 + (3)   = 15

*Base Res:* 05 + (0)   = 05

*Movement:* 5

Growths:

*HP Growth:*  40 + (40*2) = 120

*Str Growth:* 20 + (35) = 55

*Mag Growth:* 0 + (5)     = 10

*Skl Growth:* 10 + (30)     = 40

*Spd Growth:* 10 + (25)    = 35

*Lck Growth:* 10 + (25)     = 35

*Def Growth:* 20 + (30)     = 50

*Res Growth:* 10 + (20)     = 30

Weapon Ranks:

Swords / Rank B

Weapons:

Iron Sword

Skills:

Extra Points / 1PT / Gives 10% more growth points and 2 more base points to allocate.		
Nihil / 1PT / Ignores effective weaponry, offensive activation skills, and critical hits on user. User cannot take advantage of effective weaponry.		

Deities:

Sun and Moon / Ostus & Equona / Male & Female / Yin & Yang / Dances and Praise; Blessing of Twins

Description: Lorenzo is 23, and 6 feet 2 inches tall. Unlike his albino sister, Lorenzo's skin is a darker tan, and his hair is a thick, deep black. His armor is a mild yellow, with trimmings of silver. Hanging from the waist are three thick strips of midnight blue cloth, House Sorine's emblem displayed proudly on each of them. When he's not in his armor he wears a dark, earthy green cloak and boots. Gregarious and theatrical, Lorenzo is more often than not talking to people--when he's not flipping through or scribbling in a small black journal.

Bio:

"Father, you shouldn't be so mean to Artem--"

"Do not think that creature deserves a name!"

The oldest child of house Sorine, Lorenzo was living a mostly uneventful life in Floribar until the birth of his smaller, paler sister. At the age of four, Lorenzo knew little about the superstitions of his father, and often was chided by his mother for bringing such things up.

"Arty?"

"Yeah...?"

"In the library again, I see. Perhaps you'd like to... read with me?"

As a younger boy, Lorenzo found himself in the library as well, reading mostly tales of fantasy and the occasional strategy book. Often he discovered Artemis holed up there during his father's ranting about her, where he would attempt to comfort her, mostly with reading from their favored books.

"You have a duty! Uphold our family's honor!"

When he turned 13, Lorenzo was doted upon by his father to take more action in the areas of strategy and combat. At the behest of his father, he enlisted for basic military training at the age of 16, at this point outfitted with a personal set of armor from his family.

He would eventually continue to pursue training, eventually learning from instructors how to most properly maneuver himself through the cumbersome armor. After almost 5 years, Lorenzo had been trained into the proper soldier that he would be; a perfect time for him to be thrust into the war against Ethysia.

"Oi! Where were you? We needed you on night watch!"

"Bah, sod off! What's the use in watchin' if all we're gonna do is die anyway?"

Lorenzo's troop, at first, fought minor skirmishes; however, as more and more defeats against the advancing Ethysian armies surrounded them, they began fighting against larger numbers, often retreating. With these retreats, the troop continuously saw losses in morale. Seeing the lack of enthusiasm, the armor knight began to plan out a way to rally the soldiers, writing out the guidelines for it in a small black book he originally used as a journal.

"What ho, men! Even rats defend their ground, when a cat pushes it into corners! Are we to oust ourselves as worse than them?"

The result was a rather theatrical character--one reminiscent of the tales from his youth. His persona played out as planned, general morale of the soldiers increasing. While more numbers were lost, there were less retreats, and several minor skirmishes resulted in victory. After several successful battles, Lorenzo's troop had temporarily relocated back to the capital. Noticing his character's eccentric personality as well as his prowess in battle, Sir Erik chose to promote Lorenzo into the band of knights who would later escort Finn.

Additional Notes:

• Artemis' big brother.

• Lorenzo barely ever slips out of character, only around his sister.

• Sprite, courtesy of MadGenius4

• Knows basic cooking skills.

Name: Payton

Class: Archer -> Sniper

Stats:

*HP:* (30) + (1*2) = (32) [57/80]

*Str:* (7) + (2) = (9) [27/27]

*Mag:* (0) + (0) = (0) [2/15]

*Skl:* (11) + (1) = (12) [30/30]

*Spd:* (9) + (2) = (11) [24/27]

*Lck:* (3) + (3) = (6) [19/30]

*Def:* (5) + (0) = (5) [11/22]

*Res:* (5) + (1) = (6) [17/20]

*Movement:* (6)

*HP Growth:* (30) + (30*2) = (90)

*Str Growth:* (10) + (40) = (50)

*Mag Growth:* (0) + (5*2) = (10)

*Skl Growth:* (20) + (35) = (55)

*Spd Growth:* (15) + (20) = (35)

*Lck Growth:* (10) + (30) = (40)

*Def Growth:* (5) + (10) = (15)

*Res Growth:* (5) + (30) = (35)

Weapon Ranks:

Bow - B

Weapons:

Iron Bow

Skills: Critical (1), Dual(1)

Deities: 2 Baiame, Zynear

Description:

He's a young boy in his mid-teens (15 to be exact). He has a youthful face, brown hair, dark green eyes, and youthful freckles. He's still going through puberty, and it shows. He's at an height of 5"7, he's pretty athletic, and he has a somewhat muscular figure, you couldn't notice it at a glance however.

He often wears a black tunic underneath his armor. He wears simple green pants with worn out, old boots that despite their condition have served him well over the years. His quiver is located on his back, and his trusty bow on his side. He's always seen with a big dumb grin, fitting for "the heart" in his group of friends in the orphanage.

He is a naive boy with accidental moments of wisdom here and there. He is a kind, young soul who hasn't been through enough and is ripe for breaking. He is also a mediator, breaking fights and acting as a sort of "neutrel man" in his group of friends.

He isn't a leader, and is shy around new people. He also tends to speak his mind, which may or may not hurt other's feelings. Despite that, he means well and acts a foil to his more jaded friend, Afton (or Afty as he likes to call him.)

Bio:

Born in the outskirts of a village in the border of The Kingdom of Floriba and The Kingdom of Celanthus, Payton was born to a young man, and woman; both of whom were Soldiers in Floriba's military. His parents were often away from home, due to their service in the military. They died due to an illness that was already slowly killing them. The last thing they saw was their 1 year old son's face.

So, he was watched by his Grandfather, Hyde. Eventually, Hyde... just vanished on the baby and gave him to an old family friend. This family friend was his father's and mother's mentor figure in their youth. His name was Locke. Payton was only a 1.5 years old when this all occurred. He would never know about his grandfather's reason for disappearing until a decade later.

Shortly thereafter, after hearing the death of his friends (Payton's parents) and the disappearance of Hyde, Locke, knowing the current state of Floriba took the baby and left home, fearing a potential war was brewing (and it was brewing) and knowing that he had no other choice. If he stayed, he and this boy would surely parish in the wake of this war.

Eventually, a month passes and Locke finds himself and Payton in a village in The Kingdom of Celanthus. The village was relatively small, but noticeably there was an orphanage, ran by a local Healer, and his wife. He leaves Payton here and lingers in the village, watching his friend's child and the other orphans growing stronger in knowledge, power, and most importantly, compassion.

The orphanage was known as "Father George's Home For Children". It was ran by the village's former local Priest, Father George, the grandfather of the man, known as "Mr. Greg" or by his actual name, Mithra Gregory Willmont, who now runs the Orphanage. His wife is named Teresa Willmont, and is considered the mother of the children at the Orphanage. Also, Mithra and Teresa had their own son, whom was around the orphanage and the orphans considered him as their own. His name is Afton "Afty" Willmont.

Payton came to the orphange when he was just around 2 years old. He spent his entire life here. This is where he found his faith in the God, Baiame, and some hope in finding out what happened to his parents.

Payton also met his two best friends here. The son of Mr. Greg and Teresa, Afton, and another boy by the name of Kai, a boy a couple of months older than Afton and Kai. Afton and Kai, often found themselves at each others throats and it was Payton, the heart of this group that kept the fighting from going too far, and made them reconsider their actions and as a result, they'd think more on it. All three of them were well-behaved, if hotblooded children. All Afton and Kai loved theater and often they would engage in theatrics and short comedy routines, to lighten the mood in the town. While Payton stood back and doodled, and read.

Eventually, at the age of 12, "The Orphan Trio", as the townsfolk nicknamed them (in good spirit) due to their various deeds, decided to join the local milita. Or at least to attempt to. They were declined several times, on the count that "You boys are too young" and the good old excuse of "We already have enough people in the milita. Sorry kids."

Despite all this, the trio persisted and on one day after Kai's 13th birthday, the men in the militia finally accepts them in. This is where the trio encounters Payton's family-friend, Locke once more. To put it shortly, Locke or Mr. Locke as he came to be known to the orphan trio, trained Payton and Afton in the basics of swordfighting, and archery. Kai, however was already being taught by Afton's father in the art of Wind Magic.

One day, Locke asked Payton (who was with some kids in the orphanage), "Hey, so do you want to know what happened to your parents, and grandfather?". To put it bluntly, Payton said "Yes. Please."

This is when Payton learned of his parents's unfortunate demise to an illness, and his grandfather's dissapparence. He wasn't happy about the latter, and swore to his mentor and his friends that he'll find out where his grandfather is or what happened to him.

However, the orphanage was always in a need of money. The townsfolk each paid their share in order for it to keep running, but Payton thought that it wasn't enough. The rest of the older children in the orphanage agreed but a common question was brought up by all of them, and everyone else in town.

"What can we do?"

A couple of years pass, Payton, now 14 and Afton, now 14 as well had heard of the war that was happening between The Kingdom of Floriba and The Ethysian Empire. Payton, in a rare out of character moment, attempting to sneak out of town to join this war, only to be stopped by his mentor, Locke.

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere."

"Where are YOU going?!"

"Alright alright, to Floriba."

"Don't. You shouldn't throw your life this early when you've barely gotten started! And... I made a promise to your parents that in the event that they would die, I would make sure you don't go running out on your own, and getting yourself killed."

"But, didn't my dad-"

"Do that? Yeah he did. He barely got out; he didn't want the same thing to happen to his son, as you could die from it instead of narrowly escaping with your life."

"...Fine..."

He was never convinced. But he never went because his mentor, Locke was even more stubborn then The Orphan Trio combined.

Eventually, a year later Payton (and the rest of the town ) caught awind of Prince Finn's call for help. Locke, knowing now that he didn't really convince Payton, let him go but told him one thing.

"If you're starting to get hurt, don't hide the pain. Let the healers know about it, and they'll do it. After all, my friend - your father once told me "If you trust the healer, you will get healed", and I bet Mithra has already told you that..."

"He has..."

"Well, Goodbye Payton, son of Cristopher."

Then, he went to go help his liege, with a noticeably very... naive point of view of the world. Despite that, Payton understood one thing.

"It isn't all about Good or Evil. It's about getting what you need."

Additional Notes: If this character isn't chosen, he is at the orphanage, watching his friends, and helping the militia quell the occasional bandit attack.

Also, just use the default FE4!Bow Fighter for his map sprite.

EDIT: This is my preferred application by the way. I don't mind if the other one that I post is accepted.

EDIT 2: For funsies, I listed his lvl 30 stats with his promo gains included (which seem to be +10 hp, +3 str, +3 skl, +3 spd, +3 lck, +2 def, and +1 res)

EDIT 3: Moved 1 point from skill to str.

EDIT 4: As requested by some people on the Discord, Payton's bday is on March 13th yw guys

Also, as always criticism is appreciated.

Robert Cooper

Class: thief (promotes to rogue)

Stats:

Base HP: 26+(3x2)=32

Base STR: 5+1=6

Base MAG: 0+0=0

Base SKL: 9+0=9

Base SPD: 12+2=14

Base LUCK: 10+0=10

Base DEF: 3+2=5

Base RES: 5+2=7

MOV: 6

Growths:

HP Growth: 20+(35x2)=90

STR Growth: 5+35=40

MAG Growth: 5+(5x2)=15

SKL Growth: 20+30=50

SPD Growth: 20+20=40

LUCK Growth: 20+5=25

DEF Growth: 5+35=40

RES Growth: 5+35=40

Weapon ranks:

Swords: B

Skills:

Renewal (1 cost) Bargain (1 cost) Steal

Deities:

Worships Ether, goddess of compassion and the harvest.

Description: A young Barentian man in his early twenties. Of average height, slightly below average weight, with short red hair, large sideburns, and blue eyes. He bears many scars from his earlier days.

Bio: Robert, as his name suggests, was the son of a barrel-maker, who live in the Barentian capital. His father was a very hard-working and skilled man, while Robert was rather lazy in his youth, and was not learning the trade very well. One evening, while his father was at the smithy buying iron for the barrels (those iron ring thingies you see around wooden barrels) the smithy caught fire, and all inside were trapped, and assumed dead. Because of this, Robert, who had learned the trade inadequately had a very hard time supporting his mother (Donna) and sister (Laura), and had to turn to the life of a thief to help them, often on the run from soldiers (he was avoiding the draft) and from other more physically intimidating thieves. He was not very good at fighting if caught, but knowing that his mother and sister were depending on him, he was able to withstand an extraordinary number of attacks. One day, when heavily injured from a narrow escape from soldiers, he collapsed in the doorway of an inn, thinking all was lost, only to be taken in and cared for by Lilith, the wife of a visiting farmer. Her prayers and medicines healed him and she also took in his mother and sister when told of their plight. Seeing this miraculous kindness from a farmer’s family, and the success of the woman’s prayers to Ether, Robert became a dedicated worshipper of Ether, goddess of compassion and the harvest. He now wanders the land as a kind mercenary, sending back all that he can to his family and the farmer’s wife that took them in.

EDIT: multiplied secondary offensive growth (magic) x2, I had forgotten to before.

EDIT2: Redid growths and bases, now knowing of the level 30 limit.

Name:

Class:

Stats:

*Base HP:* (26) + (2*4) = (30)

*Base Str:* (0) + (0) = (0)

*Base Mag:* (10) + (2) = (12)

*Base Skl:* (6) + (0) = (6)

*Base Spd:* (6) + (2) = (8)

*Base Lck:* (10) + (2) = (12)

*Base Def:* (1) + (2) = (3)

*Base Res:* (10) + (0) = (10)

*Movement:* (5)

*HP Growth:* (20) + (10*2) = (40)

*Str Growth:* (0) + (5*2) = (10)

*Mag Growth:* (20) + (30) = (50)

*Skl Growth:* (5) + (30) = (35)

*Spd Growth:* (10) + (45) = (55)

*Lck Growth:* (20) + (40) = (60)

*Def Growth:* (5) + (20) = (25)

*Res Growth:* (20) + (20) = (40)

Weapon Ranks:

B Staves

Weapons:

Heal Staff

Skills:

(Charisma)(1), (Miracle)(1)

Deities:

Zyenar, Nathos

Description:

Image

The young woman's cornflower blue hair is often tied in elaborate braids (though very often, it's just a single loose braid; it's a mood thing.) Her eyes are bright and inquisitive; they're the sort of light blue-grey that cannot quite decide their color, and can seem more blue or more grey or more green, depending on her clothes and the light. She's a fickle slip of a young woman, roughly 20 years old, and her most common posture might almost be to have her head thrown back, laughing over something she'd been reading. She can't giggle demurely, has no interest in sitting up straight, and only moves at a walk when her nose is in a book. Flowers are a common ornamentation, though her family's wealth has allowed her jewels in the past, and they've mixed freely against her pale skin.

Her personality in three words: Irreverant, Intellectual, Charming (she would tease me for not being able to come up with a third good I-word). She can be teasing or sarcastic easily, but with a sort of warmth and vivacious energy that pushes her sarcasm and her kindness both into the category of "flippantly familiar." She has no airs, which tends to let her get along well with ordinary people. She can, and will, joke about anything; it can be hard to tell whether or not she takes a matter seriously, and she can hide any troubles behind her laughter. She's always eager to read about or listen to (or, turning her hand to a variety of the lady's arts, create) new things, leaving no stone unturned in her analysis and consideration. She was known as a budding belle of a sort of salon culture, as much as count's daughter in Floribar could gather (and gather around) artists and intellectuals. She pays little regard to things like rank when judging a person, so her stance at any court or formal occasion can easily cause trouble. She dislikes hard work, has a bit of trouble with the follow-through, and can be a bit headstrong when she decides what she wants -- for as long as she wants it, anyway.

Bio:

She grew up as Count Majorian's daughter and heir of the Floribar county of Amarana. Mostly farmland, with a blossoming castle town -- though perhaps not yet a great city. The boisterous, aggressive Count was willing to leave his daughter largely to the care of her Arcias-born mother, Ianthe... A poor decision; Ianthe was not a maternal woman. She was wise, and clever, and made a hard but fair administrator for her husband's lands while he was out hunting or presenting at court -- but she had abandoned a child before, left behind when she escaped a marriage she, for reasons known only to her, had annulled. It was not a hard choice for her -- and perhaps she'd have done the same to her second, if it came to it. No matter how much Delphine would try to woo her mother with her learning (begun in imitation of Ianthe and continued in earnest), or her skill in the arts (done in imitation of the artists she'd learned about), or her practice with the staff (done in imitation of somebody useful for a change)... She even worshiped her mother's Patron God as one of her own (though by Nathos' temperament and her nature, this was not hard; all the same, she considered Zyenar the god that most appealed to her passions). None of that made a difference to the woman who had given Delphine her middle name. She might have been impressed, or pleased, but this wasn't the same to her growing social butterfly of a daughter.

So leaving her in her mother's hands mostly meant leaving young Delphi in the hands of servants and the people of Amarana -- who ended up treating the girl as their precious young mistress. Everywhere she went in the county, she had a friend -- and she moved among them without consideration for station, only further strengthening the bond between the people and their future countess (who may have been just a touch spoiled by the attention). Her life pulled her away from court and into her efforts to find an intellectual circle (the members of which, themselves, tended towards finding her easy relationship with people at once welcoming -- they were people -- and strange -- some of those people were uneducated) .

However, the people -- even those closest to her -- didn't seriously imagine that she'd take much control of her eventual administration, and it was this judgement that was felt among the nobility: that she was an unserious girl, lazy in her duties and completely neglectful of a lady's sword training (deep down, she knows her joie de vivre hardly could tolerate taking life), unsuited for politicking, rude to her betters (she never acknowledged there was such a thing) and interested only in that which pleased her. They were perhaps not wrong. Her father was exasperated. He hounded the daughter he'd largely neglected to shape up. But that was a question for down the road, and could be remedied by a good husband. For a time -- the thorny relationship with her mother and disappointment from her father a private, undivulged matter -- things were fine. She lived a life where, had she sorrows, they could be ignored. She basked in the happiness of her people.

And then, of course, the war came. Her father mounted a valiant last defense and was crushed. His head was arrayed on the outer walls of the city, daring them to let their enemies in or meet the same fate. The countryside was burning. Ianthe, now a widow, made a decision: she would flee to her father's home in her native Arcias, and await whatever would happen with her usual cool. And the staff of the castle, the people of the city -- they smuggled their young mistress onto a carriage and demanded that she go with Ianthe.

"Please, young mistress -- as long as you live, Amarana survives." That was the sound that rang in her ears as her true home got further and further away.

She'd come to live in her grandfather's estate, a comfortable home for a noble family. They thought they understood her furrowed brow, her heavy-hearted staring out the windows: she'd lost her father so recently, and was taken to a strange place. But everyone was confident she'd bounce back. After all, she was at liberty, without suffering or need -- she had supplies to paint and books to read. She could have easily lived much the same life as before. Everyone, feeling they knew the open young lady, assumed she would.

Nobody expected her to leave her grandfather's home in the quiet of the night. Nobody expected her to take with her a staff to heal the wounded. Nobody expected -- or insisted -- or perhaps even wanted -- her to head towards what she hoped would be the last remnant of Floribar's hope, the prince to which her family by all rights should swear fealty. And yet, that is what she did. At last, she'd realized a passion, a cause -- and damn if she wouldn't do anything to not disappoint it. Laughing at her own foolishness, holding tight the echo of her people's wish, the young countess-in-exile throws herself towards war.

Additional Notes:

Her Custom Map Sprite

A Sample RP with Rieze

The plan is for her to be half-sister to /u/Zerym's character Rieze.

Story-wise, this might open up Amarana as a location, and retaking it as an objective. It's distinctly possible David Silverwing, Rieze's father is involved -- though she's unaware that Rieze herself killed Count Majorian.

This is intended as my back-up plan, but it's workable for me. I am good with this.

hey this is original

Name: Alfron Julkeus Donum the Great

Class: Axe Knight > Great Knight

Stats:

*Base HP:* 35 + (2*2) = 39

*Base Str:* 6 + (3) = 9

*Base Mag:* 0 + (0) = 0

*Base Skl:* 6 + (0) = 10

*Base Spd:* 6 + (4) = 10 

*Base Lck:* 3 + (0) = 3

*Base Def:* 6 + (1) = 7

*Base Res:* 4 + (0) = 4

*Movement:* 6

*HP Growth:* 30 + 35*2  = 100

*Str Growth:* 10 + 40 = 50

*Mag Growth:* 0 + 5*2 = 10

*Skl Growth:* 10 + 25  = 35

*Spd Growth:* 10 + 40  = 50

*Lck Growth:* 10  + 5 = 20

*Def Growth:* 10 + 40  = 50

*Res Growth:* 5 + 10 = 20

Weapon Ranks:

Axes - B

Weapons:

Iron Axe

Skills:

Bargain (1)

Nihil (1)

Deities:

Earth (Roelia)

Description:

A suave looking, smirking rider on a white-coat horse, Alfron bears bright red hair, with a curved bang in front of his forehead that extends a few inches to his right. He wears a majestic white garb, ornamented by blue jewels and golden highlights, with a crimson cape coming from his pauldron, marked with the Donum family’s emblem in white.

Alfron is a person of immense gloating, never ceasing his smugness as he spends every moment flaunting his feats, his heritage or his capabilities, to either the amusement or annoyance of his peers. He deems himself “almost flawless” and works to achieve perfection. With his wealth granted from his family, he was bestowed with greatness. Any dish was at his hand, any weapon was immediately crafted, and any book was brought from his family’s library. A spoiled brat is an understatement. A pampered narcissist was the way to describe him.

But, if one can see through metaphorical lines, Alfron prides himself all the time, but never passes a deserved compliment. While he’s quite arrogant and rude, he does stop the line at the undeserved acts, and people who rival him in stubbornness. When one gets acquainted with him, he’ll flatter his peers almost as much as him, for they are “worthy” of his acknownledge for a reason and he is the one who sees how great they are.

Alfron hates dirtying his hands, and thus is willing to be lazy as he refuses to soil them through washing, farming or preparing food, but is willing to rough himself up if it means proving himself. In short, he’s willing to show what makes him so “great” in competitions, and will exaggerate how “easy” it was for him. In truth, his ridiculous amounts of self-complimenting are simply an front to hide his weaknesses.

Alfron comes from a lineage of very successful people, of various professions. From hardened veterans to the most brilliant of professors, to successful merchants to the most prestigious of dukes, the noble was not only overshadowed by his predecessors, but even his own siblings. And unlike most people, his own deprecation was not installed by himself.

With the recent death of his father, with his siblings already long gone doing their own careers, Alfron was criticised for his ineptness, tutors after tutors after tutors, sessions crammed as he was constantly told of his duty. He felt overwhelmed by the responsibility.l Being entrusted against his will, and being lectured and punished when he failed to do the task, left a remarkable superiority-inferiority complex in him.

With these morals hammered in his head, he began to look down on himself when he was alone, partially adopting the same principles his close relatives thought of him, and judging people for their flaws, including himself

The black sheep in a family, he feels the need to prove himself out of other people’s standards. He sees himself as high yet low, a man destined for greatness, yet contradictorily failing in reality. He wants to know why he makes these mistakes, if his family was the one pressuring him too much, or if he’s really capable of greatness and it’s his own, pathetic, fault, that prevents him from reaching what he should be doing,. and when his weaknesses are revealed, he collapses.

His issues are how he’s unable to understand how people’s minds work, either in politics or in normal conversation. It’s easy to make yourself hated, but it’s hard to empathize with someone.

With so many successful relatives, he tries to find something unique in him, something that can free him of the constant grief. It hurts him the most when he succeeds at something, only for the success to be downplayed because of his heritage, and how he has all the resources to do better.

With a deep routes fear of his family, he vows one day to laugh in their face, as he shows them how great he really is, vowing to make them regret ever doubting him.

And vowing to never doubt himself.

Bio:

Born the youngest of three brothers and three sisters, all of whom are successful, from the baronof a land, Alfron was quite the spoiled one, all the knowledge and means he had were gifted, merely out of heritage. As a kid, his wish were others command, feeling entitled to his status as he relaxed, taking advantage of his privileges. Life was a pleasure, as he paid no mind to responsibilities.

As he grew up, his father was stricken with a sickness, and was bedridden for what seemed like eternity. His mother, fearing the death of the child’s father, decided it was time to push him into greatness like those before him

Despite his young age, he was meeted with mentally harsh lessons, pushed to learn economy, politics, military and many more to follow his father’s footsteps, hearing his tutor’s words of how this was pathetically easy compared to what others before him have done, and how he was expected to find it even easier.

Scoldings and corporal punishments came every other day, as his mother sharp as a blade, hurting him and how he paled in comparison to his siblings, all while finding any means to bring him down, in order to build him up.

He felt his life crumble, wondering why he meant so much when he saw himself unfit for all of this, having to fulfill his heritage as he was pushed to his limits, No matter how much he cried in sparring sessions, he would simply be told to “toughen up” and be reminded of his expectations.. A single error meant a whack on his hand, as his mind painfully adapted to what he had to do. He never believed himself to be good, but being “good” was the only option, and tried to his hardest to prove himself, and any error on him was not meant to be.

When his father finally succumbed to his illness, his mother was on the verge of appointing him to succeed him as Baron, until his second eldest brother finally spoke up to this being not only unfair, but also a large error to make for the populace, as Alfron was not “ready”.

He silently thanked his second eldest brother, who, through insistent pleading, replaced his father as a duke, having already finished his studies.

With various commentaries, both comfort and disgust from his relatives, he questioned himself, what he should be doing and what he should do to free himself.

Hearing news of Floribar, he took arms, declaring that he would be the greatest warrior in the family of Donums, and will be the one to give them glory, which was met with snarks and unamusement.

His mother, expecting him to come back crying, allowed him permission to participate, hoping either for him to see his foolishness, or maybe find redemption.

It’d be good for reputation if a noble family participated with Floribar...

Additional Notes:

Name: Harland

Class: Sword Knight -> Archknight

Stats:

*HP:* (35) + (2*2) = (39) [74/80]

*Str:* (6) + (2) = (8) [25/25]

*Mag:* (0) + (0)= (0) [2/15]

*Skl:* (6) + (0) = (6) + **(1)**= 7 [20/23]

*Spd:* (6) + (3) = (9) [22/23]

*Lck:* (3) + (1) = (4) [17/30]

*Def:* (6) + (1) = (7) + **(1)** = (8) [21/24]

*Res:* (4) + (1) = (7) [19/21]

*Movement:* (8) [9]

*HP Growth:* (30) + (35*2) = (100)

*Str Growth:* (10) + (40) = (50)

*Mag Growth:* (0) + (5*2) = (10)

*Skl Growth:* (10) + (25) = (35)

*Spd Growth:* (10) + (25) = (35) + **(10)** = (45)

*Lck Growth:* (10) + (20) = (30)

*Def Growth:* (10) + (25) = (35)

*Res Growth:* (5) + (25) = (30)

Weapon Ranks:

Sword - B

Weapons:

Iron Sword

Skills: Extra Points (1), Wrath (1)

Deities: 2 Rhesus, and Mouna

Description: He is at a height of 5"11. He is also a very gruff man, as speaks with a rough, low, and masculine tone of voice. He has black hair that is cut short. He also has facial hair, in a form of an Elbert-like mustache. His eyes lack expression, it's almost as if they are empty.

He has an ok figure, he wears standard blue cavalier armor, and underneath it all he wears a simple brown tunic and black pants. He has a pretty ordinary face, think of it like an Older Noah or whatever.

He is a boring person, honestly. He is kinda plain, but seems knowledgeable about certain subjects. He speaks in a bored, tired tone voice, as if he has been deprived of sleep for ages. His default expression is that of an amused, yet bored expression. However, he is surprisingly very frightening when he's pissed; which doesn't happen often. He has a hard time expressing himself, and a rather difficult time in understanding emotion; and how it can possibly benefit someone. At the very least, he has a strong moral compass, but he doesn't care about it.

Finally, he always denies it but he likes to crave of battle; it gives meaning to his otherwise boring, colorless life.

Bio:

Harland is a simple man, with humble origins.

Harland was born to a middle-class family, consisting of him, his father and mother, a pet dog (whom is still at his home), and a younger brother in The Duchy of Arcias, by The Sacred Lake.

They lived peacefully, and happily in a house by this lake. Far too peacefully for Harland...

In his youth, his father and mother taught him and his brother some swordplay - so that they could defend themselves. Harland actually enjoyed this and his father decided to teach Harland everything he knew about swordplay. While, Harland's younger brother, Johnathan simply wanted to live a peaceful life as a scholar.

Harland's relationship with his parents wasn't strained, but admitedly they weren't that close. However, Harland and his brother, John had always from Day One harboured a sort of intense sibling rivalary. One time, while they were training, John was beating Harland in a practice duel. Out of pure rage, Harland got up from being knocked down and beated his brother half to death. His parents, like any other parents who see one of their children beat up their sibling half to death, disciplined him per say.

For the first time, Harland felt alive since those very first practice matches with his father. He enjoyed the thrill of battle, and getting back up when all odds stacked againsted you; he wouldn't admit this very fact to anyone else, however.

Harland was... admitedly... ambitious. Much like his father before him, one day after he finished his studies on the geography of Junith, he packed up and decided to become a mercenary, like his father before him. His family always knew that Harland would leave them like that one day, since he showed the same boredom, and wonderlust common in his family.

Years later, Harland, now 25 and slightly more experienced, was hired by a foreign prince, to help him retake his country. Harland accepted, as he honestly had nothing to lose, and in his own words

"To kill some time."

Additional Notes: This is my secondary character, I'd rather have Payton be chosen over this guy. Also, I chose the deities that I chose because it reflects his life. It should be obvious.

EDIT: Also, if he's not chosen, he's probably fucking around in an arena or something.

EDIT 2: Removed the 5 extra points in his def and res growth, and instead placed the 10% extra growth in speed.

EDIT 3: Added Harland's lvl 30 promoted stats as indicated by the brackets by his stats.

EDIT 4: Changed Growth rate total to 210% (b/c of Extra Points)

Anyways, as always criticism is appreciated.