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0 · 166 views · located in Continent of Drevair

a character in “Gods of Drevair”, originally authored by Siryn, as played by RolePlayGateway



Name: Kharun

Race: God of Drevair

Gender: Male

Description: Kharun is a tall man with a slender build. He has black hair and a thick black blindflold over his eyes. He wears a simple black coat that is sometimes opened partially. This gives a false sense of security to others as he looks very open when in a fight. It is, of course, far from the truth. Long sleeves adorn his arms, coming down to his wrists in wide open cuffs. Black pants and a pair of shin high boots complete his look. He has a fair complextion and it looks as if he is fairly young.

Abilities: Kharun deals with the ability to fade into nothing but black mist, often referred to as a 'shadow'. He is the leader of the five born Gods of Drevair, therefore he is the most powerful. He controls the dark to his whim as well, taking away the light easily enough. He has a weapon, but he rarely uses it unless absolutely necessary, not even the other Gods know what it is. Kharun deals out multiple hits, striking hard and fast in a mixture of punches and kicks that are aimed to cripple and kill.


Personality: Kharun is the silent type. He doesn't talk very much and despite his seemingly lack of sight, he knows exactly where he is and where everything else is around him. He issues out orders to the others and they do not fail to carry them out. He is both feared and respected by the other four. Kharun isn't the type to dilly dally, he likes to get things done right then and there.

So begins...

Kharun's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shra Character Portrait: Layien Character Portrait: Kharun Character Portrait: Mireene Character Portrait: Dimee
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#, as written by Siryn
The flute on her lips pulled away, the beautiful music ceasing to exist. Opening her red gaze, she witnessed a most pleasing and gorgeous sight before her. The small town was burning. Every building was up in flames, nothing was spared. Her lips turned into a very small smile of happiness. Mireene stood and waited for her brother to return. She wanted to know if she'd been of any help to him at all.

"Brother," she called as she spotted the tall man with flowing red hair. His attire was that of deep crimson as were his twin swords that were held in each hand. He looked up, a wicked smile on his lips as he approached her.

"Mireene," he said with a light tone. Shra moved to stand next to his youngest sister and sheathed his swords. Reaching out he patted her head gently.

"Did I help you?"

"What do you think? Look at it. It's burning beautifully. You're the most helpful out of everyone," he told her with a laugh.

"Oh please, I'm helpful to."

Looking behind her, Mireene spotted her other sister, Dimee. The older girl smiled brightly at them as she approached. Shra tilted his head to look at her from over his shoulder.

"Sometimes," he commented in return. Dimee only laughed at the small jest. Mireene smiled shyly between them both. She loved being around her brothers. Especially Shra. There was just something about him that made her feel a little less shy. A rush of air passed between them all and a second later a dark mist formed in one area very quickly. It lasted mere seconds and from it Kharun stepped towards them. His covered eyes betrayed his ability to see everything.

"Kharun," Dimee beamed. Between them all, she favored him the most. Mireene smiled, but didn't say anything. Kharun walked passed all three of them, going a few feet away from them to stand and watch the flames flickering. He was silent the entire time. His black cloak whipped backwards from the super heated wind that blew the inferno all across the town.

"Where's Layien?" Shra asked.

"Almost finished," Kharun answered shortly. Though it wasn't much, all three knew that they were to wait for Layien to join them before doing anything else. Drevair would bring him to them, it was how it worked. Their mother always brought them together, Kharun need only ask of it and she provided.

It wasn't much longer before Layien joined them. He brushed himself off, dirt and grass falling from his shoulders as he'd traveled via Drevair's touch. Kharun turned then to face the four Gods.

"It begins with these. The city that Layien wreaked chaos in. This town that Shra and Mireene have burned and the village that Dimee razed to the ground. You've done well, my brothers and sisters. Our mother is very pleased with the start of things. We need only finish our work," his head tilted to look down towards Mireene. She watched him in silence, a bit of awe in her eyes as she waited for him to speak, "Stay with Shra. Do not leave him."

"Yes," she answered softly.

"You know what to do next," Kharun disappeared into thick black smoke that slowly dispersed into the air. Mireene looked up to Shra who grinned almost crazily.

"Come on little sister. Let's go pay the human's a visit shall we?"

"See you later," Dimee said as she too disappeared via Drevair's power. Layien gave a short bow to them, a bit of a smile and was gone in the next instant too. Mireene watched them go, her eyes sparkling.

"Alright," she answered and took hold of her brothers hand as they were swept away with Drevair.

The setting changes from Continent of Drevair to Carlyle's Manor


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kharun
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The darkness of the manor was befitting of his tastes. His body left the black mist of his power and he stood silently in the center of the room that was at the bottom of the large house. Slowly his head turned from one side to the other as he regarded the manor from behind the cloth covering his eyes.

Moving forward he stepped onto the old staircase and started upwards. He was silent as he went, nothing more than a shadow in an empty house. His destination was towards the study. He knew there was someone there. Kharun had been on his way to another destination but had stumbled upon the lonely manor. Everything had to be purged of Drevair's soil and this was no exception.

He approached the door, but did not reach to open it. Instead he disappeared into his dark magic again and simply shifted into the other room. Kharun stopped there, watching the other in for a long moment, not making his presence apparent, though he was fairly sure the old man could probably 'feel' that he was there. He waited.

It had been several days since his meeting with the golden eyed assassin and Carlyle was still unsettled. He always needed time to collect himself after meeting with Athos, it was just the feeling one got when being alone in a room with him. It was like having a meeting with death itself in all the absurdity that entailed. Every time they met Carlyle would do most of the talking, he would describe the mark or the specifics of the contract and Athos would listen. He would usually say something after a time, something dark and cold that only furthered the old mans nervousness. A part of Carlyle thought the bastard did it on purpose just to toy with him.

This last meeting was different however, this business of gods and god slaying seemed to pull at the assassin's already lacking good nature. The anger in his eyes, no, the rage when Carlyle had dared make the suggestion that the decision by Athos to accept the contract could possibly be the work of The Triumvirate's will seeking a way to deal with these false gods. Carlyle always assumed that Athos was no man of faith, the way he mocked and ridiculed him in the past for his prayers was a clear sign of that yet this was something else entirely. He half expected the killer to slay him right there.

Whether that act was mercy or not was yet to be seen as the old man moved about his home, unaware of the shadow that lurked, watching his every move like a great beast in the darkness. It's hungry eyes tracking the old man as he moved gingerly, the old man's movements were slow and weak, a sign of his age. Carlyle was moving through his library searching the shelves upon shelves of books in his possession when he paused to turn.

He stared into the shadow with wide, fear filled eyes. The darkness seemed alive this night, like it was looking back at him. It chilled his very soul. Reflexively he took a step back from the crushing blackness at the end of the room as his heart beat quickened.


"So, his name is Athos," Kharun whispered softly as he shifted to step into the light. The darkness around him seemed to slither off his shoulders, cascading almost like water. Even so, around his frame, along the very edges, the dark matter seemed to cling to him.

"You believe in... Gods, old man?" Kharun asked as he slowly approached the other. He titled his head slightly as he waited for the answer. His finger tips brushed the edge of the desk as he started to go around it.

Carlyle's voice was frozen in his throat with fear. Such indescribable dread gripped the old man's heart he may have just let his frail body fail him there and then. This being was unlike anything he had ever witnessed. Raw power, godly for certain in it's scope poured fourth from him. This being spoke, his voice calm was without anger yet bore a malice the likes of which shook the old man's very soul. He seemed to born of darkness, molded by it and master to it. It emanated from him like a dark aura of shadow made tangible by his mere presence. Carlyle had never had a face to face discussion with a god before but if ever he had he'd imagine it would feel something like this.

The old man stumbled back, nearly falling in his terror as he reached out to steady himself on his desk.

"Yyou... y-you're one of them aren't you?"

He asked, his voice quivering with fear. The figure before him was blindfolded but it seemed obvious that only a fool would think the man without sight. He moved so effortlessly through his surroundings Carlyle expected that this being could no doubt see far better than he could. The old man's hand slowly rose to clutch the pendant of the Triumvirate in the hopes to find some form of solace in the holy sigil.

"Y-you ask if I believe in Gods? I tell you now that I do, I-I believe in the True Gods. The Holy Triumvirate. In Garganth whose strength consumes all. In Kain whose loyalty is a beacon to all mankind. In Abilmel on high, the purest of all."

Carlyle's voice found some measure of strength as he spoke about his devotion to the Gods to whom he worshiped. He set his jaw in fear induced determination and even a bit of anger as he steadied himself to meet death soon. It was a reality he'd been coming to terms with for a long time now, at the hand of this usurper god was merely the means of his destruction nothing more. Carlyle wanted to curse him, damn him and his ilk for his deeds. His tongue would give life to the words in his heart but when he spoke his voice shook like the old man he was...weak, feeble and terrified.

"Why are you doing this?"

He stopped his approach suddenly. His eyes that had been looking around, stared at the bookshelf before him, his fingers twitched ever so slightly as they were brushing against the bindings of the books. Kharun turned slightly, just enough to tilt his head to look over at the old man who held a pendant in his hands.

"True Gods?" his voice was darker than before. He stood there for a moment longer before he vanished from sight. Disappearing withing a wave of inky darkness, he resumed his appearance right before the old man. Stretching out his fingers, he touched the old man's neck.

"The land you live upon, lives and breathes. She is your Goddess, not... this," his fingers curled along the necklace as he yanked it free and threw it to the side.

"We do this because we're trying to save her, whilst you fools try to kill her," his voice shook and the room grew steadily darker as his power began to immerse the small study. Kharun's fingers curled under the old man's throat, tightening ever so slightly.

He stayed like that for a while before suddenly releasing the man and letting the candle light illuminate the room once more. Kharun took a step back away from him and ran a finger across his lips in thought. His head turned to look down at the pendant that lay glittering in the fire light.

"Tell him that I patiently await meeting him. Perhaps you will not be fool enough to believe in such things like this anymore, and start believing in something that is truth rather than lies," Kharun said softly, resuming his cool demeanor once more. Taking a single step back his body was wrapped in darkness and he left the mansion.

Carlyle coughed, his breathes ragged and full of pain racked his body as he struggled to fill his screaming lungs with life saving air. He lay in a heap on the floor of his library, his hands clutching his already bruised throat, gasping for air that could not come quick enough. His mind was full of the beings, the Gods, words.

The land you live upon, lives and breathes. She is your Goddess...

The voice reverberated within the confines of his mind echoing out until all he knew was the Gods words. Slowly but surely breath returned to him yet still he was unable to rise from the floor, his old broken body ached and moaned in protest of the attack.

We do this because we're trying to save her...

Carlyle's eyes began to well up with the tears of emotion, loss, fear and confusion. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to sit up despite the pain in his body. Still unable to breathe easily every movement brought renewed pain to his ailing body. His eyes flicked up to the pendant that lay broken where the Shadow God had cast it down.

start believing in something that is truth rather than lies.

A single tear fell from the old man's eye. The crushing realization that he had been wrong, so wrong. He put his faith, his life, his soul in the service of gods that cared little for him or anyone else. Even when their faithful faced death at the hands of the one who would seek to end all life on their realm they rose not a hand to stop it. Their idols, could be cast down without a word from them. Perhaps they were not the gods worthy of praise after all. Perhaps it is Drevair's children that warrant the worship. Perhaps...

There are no gods

The rage filled words of Athos roared fourth in Carlyle's mind, chasing out the voice of the shadow deity. That single memory of those words spoken by the man with such ire for any being believing themselves above mortality sparked a fire within Carlyle. His eyes lit up with a soul of a species on the brink, of mankinds fight for survival that this war truly was. Not some death brawl between deities but mortalities battle for their right to endure, to live on. The old man, the orphan, slowly rose to his feet with his bony fists clenched. The tear had dripped to the ground and faded, fear being replaced by anger and this time when he spoke the weakness of age was all but gone, there now was but a man whose faith in the gods was gone but instead put his faith in man.

"You wait to meet him shadow god but when you do know that your death comes at the hands of no god but by man... the hands of Athos Lorio."

The setting changes from Carlyle's Manor to Golden Castle


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shra Character Portrait: Layien Character Portrait: Kharun Character Portrait: Mireene
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#, as written by Siryn
Castle Dawn

Layien set crimson eyes upon the single structure before him. It was a large building, a castle from the looks. The only difference was that there were no other homes or towns near it. A curious thing, as Layien had seen a few castles that were surrounded by towns people. This one was far different. Even the feel of it, was different. He unsheathed his sword and slowly walked up to the double doors of the golden building.

It was easy getting in, a slash of his blade cut through the door and it fell inwards. Once inside what he saw was a strange sight indeed. Women, they were all women there. He arched an eyebrow as he set eyes upon them. A frown slowly pulled his lips down and he waved his sword in a slow, small circle before him, the tip curving through the air. As it went, it looked like a ripple started to expand from the tip of the blade. The women, startled by his sudden appearance looked to be unsure of what to do at first.

It took them a moment to gather their wits about them. He could feel the energy flowing between them as some started to weave magic. Layien tilted his head to the side, did they think that they were going to hurt him? Foolish. The air rippled one last time from the tip of his weapon and with a loud sound like the rushing of air, every last drop of oxygen left the room. Suddenly unable to breathe, the woman began to drop to their knees, clutching their throats and clawing at the air in front of them.

Layien watched for a moment before he moved. He was quick, using the wind to help amplify his movements just a bit. Soon, his sword was dripping in their blood as he cut through one after another. It would only take him a short while to get through the entire castle. As he started to rise up the stairs, going to the next level, a rush of hot air filled the entrance way where he had been. Layien didn't need to look to know that Shra had just ignited everything at the bottom of the staircase.

"I don't need your help, brother."

"Oh, I know that, but why let you have all the fun here," Shra commented lightly as he stepped into the room. His blades flipped in his hands as he ran his tongue across his lips, "I find that women like to run, and I do so like a chase."

Layien huffed lightly and continued upwards. As he went, he heard screams from another part of the castle. Shra had started his slaughter. Almost immediately after though, he heard music. The sound was Mireene's flute, her powerful spell came from her beautiful music. The rising notes gave him strength, more strength than usual. Switching tactics, Layien sent the air pulsing down the hall of the second floor of the castle. The women who had come to stop him were thrown backwards. It seemed the closer that he got to the far end of the hall, the more the women tried to stop him.

There was obviously someone, or something there that they didn't want him to get to. He moved through them easily enough though. His blade cut through each of them. He shifted between sending blasts of air to crush each against the wall or using his sword to run them through. By the time he'd made it to the far room, the hall behind him was nothing but a crimson mess with things broken or turned over from the fight.

The door exploded inwards as he pressed his hand against it. The wood shattered under his power and he stepped inside to see a single woman in the center of the room.

"Can I kill her?" Shra asked, suddenly at his side. The man's weapons were flaming and his frame was covered head to toe in splatters of blood. Mireene's music still came to them from her position right outside the double doors of the castle. She was safe, with no one threatening her there, Shra and Layien had nothing to worry about.

Layien sent his brother a lazy stare before he slowly stepped aside and sheathed his sword. Shra grinned broadly. He stalked into the room, the fires from his sword blazing outwards. Layien, with a wave of his hand, further fueled the weapons, making the fire grow even hotter and leap off the blade to catch random pieces of furniture on fire. Shra lifted the blades and in a single motion ran them both through the elder woman who had stood defiantly, glaring at both of them.

Together the brothers left the castle, having destroyed and killed everyone there. As they left the burning building to meet with Mireene outside, a dark shadow began to materialize near their younger sister. Mireene turned, her rustic gaze sparkling as she knew who it was that had come to see them. Kharun's body took solid shape as his magic faded away and he looked between the three of them.

"Seems we have some... heroes intent on finding us. Why don't you make it easier for them."

"With pleasure," Shra answered, sheathing his swords and putting their fire out at the same time. Mireene reached up and took his hand as she too smiled at her eldest brother.

"Shall I go with them?" Layien asked softly, the hood of his clothes tilting forward with his head as he bowed forward just slightly.

"It isn't necessary. It's only a greeting," Kharun's lips smirked ever so slightly before he disappeared once more into darkness. Shra grinned at his brother before Drevair took him into her body. Layien turned to look at the burning castle one last time before he too allowed his mother to take him to the next location.

The setting changes from Golden Castle to Bergstadt


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Annikar Greyhelm Character Portrait: Kalson Threisker Dorn Character Portrait: Athos Lorio Character Portrait: Johannes de Witte Character Portrait: Karvilus 'Karv' Leafgrinder Character Portrait: Valeria Marietta Character Portrait: Kain Character Portrait: Shra Character Portrait: Layien Character Portrait: Kharun Character Portrait: Mireene
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#, as written by Siryn

He shifted slightly, catching sight of the oncoming projectiles that were aimed at him. He waited for the arrows to get just close enough and then moved his weapon. The blade lifted, fell and moved from side to side. Only the flat of the weapon was used, redirecting the arrows as they came at him in a rush. Layien had to give the one who shot at him some respect. There were very few who were gifted with such speed.

The sound of steel arrow heads hitting his blade was almost a constant as he stood there, protecting Mireene who had raised her flute once more to fuel both men then.

"That stroppy red git of a swordsman and the enticingly beautiful musician there aren't the only one with speed better than the average warrior!"

To this, Layien raised an eyebrow as he continued to defend, never moving far and only moving his sword to deflect the attack, "Seems he likes you, Mireene. Pity we have to kill them."

"I don't like him," she responded shortly, taking the flute from her lips for that mere moment and then playing on again. Layien's lips pulled into a smirk at her response. His magic swirled around him, growing tired of the constant barrage of arrows. The air shifted and he flicked the fingers of his free hand opened over the edge of his blade. A burst of wind expelled from him, going through the arrows and straight for the archer who was attacking him.


He'd lost track of the man, a most annoying thing. However, he didn't really care because no matter what, his body was a burning inferno and the fool would be stupid to think of getting close to him without getting burned. As he stood there, the shadows from the fires all around began to grow quickly and in a near instant everything around Shra was pitch black. He felt rather than saw Kharun right behind him. The man's back just barely brushed his own. Right after Kharun appeared, cold steel cut along the back of his neck.

Startled, Shra shifted, moving off to the side even as the blade was moved. The wound was deep, but not life threatening. Even so, just the thought that the man had nearly killed him was enough to enrage him.

Kharun squeezed tightly around the wrist of the assassin who'd almost made his mark. His lips were pulled into a smile as he gripped the other tightly, having shifted the direction of the attack just in time. His darkness lingered there around them for a long while.

"Cannot attack what you cannot see," Kharun said slowly, "Seems you and I share the same thoughts."

Kharun pulled the assassin closer, just long enough to ask him, "But do your abilities rival mine? We shall see, Athos."

Releasing him, Kharun stepped back and the darkness disappeared along with him and the other three Gods. Once again it was like they'd never been there.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Athos Lorio Character Portrait: Kharun
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The hand reached fourth from the darkness gripping tight the hand of the assassin. Salvation came for the fire god that day in the form of shadow stopping shadow, darkness standing against darkness. As the vice like grip of Kharun held Athos fast the golden eyes of the killer of men pierced the cloth where the shadow gods eyes should be. The two seemed to stare at each other, despite ones apparent lack of sight. The mortal man and the god, eerie reflections of one another. The only true difference between the two were their motivations.

Athos listened well to the shadow gods words as he held him, the assassin's blade still dripping the blood of the fire gods from the wound that could have so easily been the last wound Shra would ever suffer. Yet it was when he spoke his name that Kharun truly pierced the veil of Athos' psyche. Through the quagmire of darkness and ire that was the mind of the assassin this being seemingly knew him, or at the very least knew of him. To think that this being had seen something of a rival in him was an odd thing. Fear mixed with determination and the fire of a worthy challenge burned within the mortal man as the god vanished with his kin in tow.

Athos did not move, did not speak for several moments. Clutching his wrist that throbbed with pain from the iron grip of the god he seemed lost within his own minds contemplation. This latest god, above all others would be his test. The shadow god and the assassin had began a journey in that moment. A journey that could only end with blood in the darkness. From whom the blood would fall remained to be seen but for now the assassin was left with a promise of a challenge to come. A challenge he would meet with all his skill and the true master of shadow would be revealed. The question posed rang out in his mind until finally Athos spoke within the confines of his own thoughts his reply. Yes we shall...

Finally returning to the hear and now, Athos seemed to finally realized the pain he was in. He gritted his teeth, almost falling to his knees as his unwounded hand clutched his chest that was still bleeding. The fresh burns cauterized the wound for sure but the wound, while mostly been by the heat, still oozed red. His chest seemed to scream in pain yet he silently bore his agony as he inspected his hand. Fortunately the shadow walker did not break his wrist, which seemed like he could have done easily, yet the fragile bones within his wrist ached with soreness and fresh bruises. He would need to bind his wrist as well as his chest. The assassin needed a healer and relatively soon before he continued his journey to kill the so called gods.

The setting changes from Bergstadt to Continent of Drevair

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Annikar Greyhelm Character Portrait: Kalson Threisker Dorn Character Portrait: Athos Lorio Character Portrait: Johannes de Witte Character Portrait: Karvilus 'Karv' Leafgrinder Character Portrait: Valeria Marietta Character Portrait: Kain Character Portrait: Shra Character Portrait: Layien Character Portrait: Kharun Character Portrait: Mireene
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Bergstadt, Hours earlier

Karvilus, cocky grin diminished with each arrow that was deflected by Layien, a sight which dumbstruck the elf, never having seen such skill of the sword before, which admittedly gave him unease. As he continued his barrage of arrows at the 'god' his unease feeling was suddenly replaced with a a sudden strike of being insulted as Mireene casually knocked aside his sweet nothings about her to which he replied mockingly; "Alas, it was not to be nonetheless, fair maiden of musical prowess! For in case you hadn't realised, you and your friends are deeply in the s**t for the massacre of these villages!", but his grin disappeared altogether as saw the very arrows flying true towards Laiyen being sliced in thin air while the sword had not even glanced them. This made Karv pause for a few moments, lowering his bow as he squinted at Laiyen in confusion, before his eyes widened, his mouth forming into an 'O' as he was struck off his feet from the sudden attack of a scything wind, cutting his leather armour as if it was merely parchment, caught off-guard at the air based attack.

"I hate bloody wind magic.", the elf grumbled as he hastily clambered back upon his feet, before immediately sprinting for a better vantage point, atop yet another smouldering pile of rubble. He took the moment to peer round the current ensuing battle, deciding promptly that things weren't exactly favourable to him or the fellow combatants against the gods, but he'd be damned before he let a pair of scantily clad woman met her fate with death and not in his own arms gushing words of affection at him. Besides, i'd seem a bit of heartless move to abandon the decent seeming dwarf he met earlier, though the rest he admittedly had little qualms over their death. He planned on firing arrows in Valeria's defence before he saw that the 'gods' had vanished from sight, causing the mercenary to scratch his scalp in greater befuddlement. He had been through a rather puzzling day. He then noticed out of the corner of his eye there was someone gravely injured, to which he diverted his attention. It was Athos collapsed on the floor with severe wounds. Karv grinned to himself at the sight, chuckling out loud; "Ha, serves the sneaky son of a whore right! Save me the trouble of dealing with the poor wretch myself after this whole gods business!"
His smirk weakened as he kept staring, remembering that the assassin was actually pretty effective when he was combating Shra, to which he sighed to himself in frustration before complaining under his breath; "Why the f**k am I the only healer here?", as he leapt from his vantage point and sprinted towards Athos.

The Present
Now inside the inn along with the others that combated against the powerful beings behind the attack on Bergstadt, Karvilus Leafgrinder, downed his ale as he leaned back in his chair, his expression weary from the recent events, and listened to Kain's Introduction. Oddly, the name seemed familiar to Karv, perhaps he heard of an elven nobleman of the name before? The mercenary shrugged it off as mere case of deja vu, and placed his mug ungracefully atop the table.
"Though I doubt a marksman of my outstanding talent needs an introduction, I will humour our overly dressed friend here. I am Karvilus Leafgrinder, archer for hire who's aim has never faltered, and arrows have always struck true. Well until the run in with those monsters calling themselves gods that is.", the elf introduced himself, his eyes glowering for a few moments as he remembered the 'gods' before continuing.
"I am also a gift to women everywhere, though only awarded to the rare and beautiful few, hopefully with present company included.", to which as he directed his gaze to Valeria with a confident wink, adding a smile before turning his attention to Athos.
"Oh, and I also am able to use healing magic and herbology. Old profession of mine that I found rather dreary and dull. Though you, assassin, definitely owe your life to my emergency treatment. Despite my medical wonders, you will need proper treatment later, emergency treatment isn't exactly proper treatment to wounds after all. You're welcome, you little grim turd."

Karvilus then pestered the innkeeper for more ale, and wondered over to where Valeria was as he obtained it, listening to what Kain had to say about the gods. His interest was obviously lacking however, as he pondered on how to start at gaining the priestess' affection.