Name: Anahita Pardai
Race: Faery
Age: 20
Orientation: Straight as an arrow
Appearance: Anahitaās hair is of medium lengthājust midway down her ribcageāand of a rich brown color, falling down her back in thick waves and usually worn in a loose coil at the nape of her neck. Her eyes are a dark brown, the color of cacao, accented by evenly tanned skin, almost olive; the pupil of her left eye, however, is a smoky, dark purple, and the iris isn't as clear as that of her right eye.Her height is 5ā9ā
ā, making her small-- the average bird-winged faery is 5'11; however, her sister was 5'4", so she isn't about to complain. Her wings are feathered, mahogany brown on top, with bars of brown, cream, and sandy spots underneath, the wings of a peregrine falconājust like her sister, Sorea. Anahita is fond of cheery clothingāone example of her kind of outfit would be a sage-green tunic with ivy vines stitched in silver thread around the neck and sleeves, complemented by creamy leggings and brown boots. Although Sorea, as a commander, assassin and spy, never went anywhere without a goodly amount of weapons on her person, her sister doesnāt lead that sort of life, and prefers to walk unarmed.
Bio: Sorea Pardaiāamong the faeries, the name evokes the memory of a woman who after joining the military at eighteen years of age quickly ascended rank after rank to take the position of Commander at the young age of twenty-six, when all other such men were well over seventy-five years of age (they don't know the means she used, otherwise it would make a lot more sense). Her younger sister (by seven years) is hardly as illustrious a person. She is currently an apprentice to a metal-smith, learning the art of crafting faery weapons, a respectable job, as faery weaponry is renowned for its many virtues. Unfortunately, she was hardly what could be described as ācloseā to Sorea, who remained aloof and indifferent to her sister until she left her family to work for the government, accepting lodgings at the Capital building. Although this was always something of a sad part of her otherwise happy life, Anahita had come to terms with it long ago.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Anahita is fast and agile in the air, her second home. Although not a warrior, as a metal-smith she knows a great deal about the use of a variety of weapons and has gained mastery in swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat. That is rather fortunate for her, as she is blind in her left eye, the result of a childhood accident, nor is the vision in her right eye exactly stellar (which poses problems from time to time when she's flying and has to look at the distant earth). Despite her sisterās telepathy and soul-magic, Anahita has no magic so to speak of, save for the faery-magic which all the members of her race possess. As such, she is completely vulnerable to a mage.
Name: Sorea Pardai
Race: Faery
Age: 27
Orientation: Straight as it gets
Appearance (when she had a body): Long brown hair that brushes her tailbone (generally braided), highlighted with a rusty bronze in the sun; due to the length of her hair, it gets paler nearing the ends, but this isn't readily perceived unless the two ends of a strand are held side-by-side. Liquid brown eyes and tawny skin complete the package. At a height of 5'4", her figure is slight but strong. Her wings are feathered, chocolaty on top, with bars of brown, cream, and sandy spots underneath, an exact replica of a peregrine falcon. Her general outfit consists of a white tunic with a low back (to make room for her wings), cream leggings, and black boots. Over the tunic is a vest made of heavy red cloth, extending midway down her thighs, belted in with her swordbelt, with slits for easy movement. This is part of a faery commander's formal apparel, as the vest is decorated with the sigils of the position, trimmed with burnished gold thread. Usually, though, she wears the informal red vest without the gold edging; still the uniform of a commander, but with less pomp. She has a hand-and-a-half sword at her left hip, with knives in her boots and strapped to her arms (under the tunic). She carries a bow and a quiver full of arrows on her back. Her arrows are fletched with feathers from her own wings.
Bio: Sorea's people enjoy legends and tall tales, so her own story quickly became the stuff of myth and legend; in reality, there was a lot more hardship behind what she did to rise in ranks and become a stealthy predator, nor was she as powerful as was believed. She was raised to be an assassin and a spy, the apprentice of Kaedo Silens, and she tends to keep to herself. When eighteen, Sorea joined the military as a battle assassin, quickly ascending the ranks to the second-highest position of commander (at the age of twenty-six) via means ranging from the honest to the questionable to downright unlawful. When she forsook the free ways of a killer-for-hire to be the government's personal assassin, her master in a fit of rage cut off all contact with her for well over a year, reconciling when she was nearly nineteen. The reason she'd done such an act was for her close childhood friend, Signum, as well as herself. When she was twelve and he seventeen, two Rau-lass captured them and tried to convert Signum into an atrox, breaking his neck and tossing him aside to die when they failed. Sorea split her soul to save him before his spirit completely entered the void, but to patch up the lost halves, she had to kill people and harvest the souls. If left untended for too long, an incomplete spirit can become volatile and eventually lead to a violent demise; she sought to prevent such a fate for the two of them.
Her homeland is the faery capital, Occalus, in the western mountain reaches, near one of the elven forests. Sorea happened to be a telepath, able to mentally communicate with as well as control other minds; coupled with her soul-magic, she wasn't the sort of opponent to be taken too lightly (well, she never really used her soul-magic unless her life was threatened, because it needs souls for fuel and she'd been gathering them for something else, so all she really used was her telepathy). Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to help her when she fought Astrophel Soryuu, a human Brigadier-General and the strongest of all the men she's ever battled. In their last struggle, he killed her body and soul; the quick-witted commander had been prepared for this, though, and she used what remained of her magic to link to Signum and Anahita via the soul, conducting an extremely advanced spell which would have used her magic to repair her friend's half-soul and send her conciousness to her sister's mind. In this last part she's failed, because no one can really cheat death.
Side Characters:
Name: Foertis Deus
Race: Faery
Age: 68
Orientation: Homosexual (really closeted about it, though)
Appearance: Around his neck hangs a leather thong with a stone of white quartz tied with a silver lock of hair-- Argenti's hair-- in an eastern custom, done when a close friend or relative is going away to face uncertain dangers, without a definite return. Heās 5ā8.5ā, typical ābutterflyā height with evenly sun-tanned skin. His just-below-shoulder-length hair is blond, accented by the stereotypical blue eyes and butterfly wings of the same color, with what once were high cheekbones creating the visage of a proud, elegant hawk. Foertis was-- let's face it-- a heck of a handsome guy. Growing up, he had no shortage of women ready to get to know him better. However, following an unfortunate accident right after the War of Light and Dark was concluded, his face was injured irreparably; luckily for him, he was with Signum Vulnus, an accomplished healer. Although Signum managed to prevent any scars from forming, he couldn't change the inevitable; because of the manner of magic used in the attack, Foertis's facial bone structure had changed, rendering his face completely different from what once it was.
((I drew a picture of Foertis, but I decided he was waaay to ugly. I'll eventually get a new one made.))
Mini-bio: Heās an eastern butterfly, accustomed to a warm climate and semi-tropical surroundings. He was apprenticed at seven, and became known for his competitive nature and bright mind. Those two traits served him well, for his was a poor family, sometimes unable to even make ends meet. It was only by a fiery ambitious drive and ferocity coupled with keen intellect that he pulled himself out of poverty. During the war, when he worked as a healer and battle-mage (he has fire magic), his title was Anathae, literally meaning āsecond to high oneā (his superior was some upstart Northerner who came in already on excellent terms with Dei Pardai, undoubtedly from a well-off family-- and what really hurt? He was
good at what he did. Guy's name was Signum Vulnus). Mages and healers are worlds apart in their ideals, so he wavers between the two, not completely of either profession but something entirely his own. Afterwards, thought, when the faeries withdrew their support and called their people back into the cities and strongholds, he and Signum-- once a rival, now a friend-- worked together, doing what they could to save as many children as possible from the tyranny of the Rau-lass. It was during one such mission that his face was marred. Though a skilled mage and note-worthy healer, Foertis's swordsmanship leaves something to be desired, and his physical strength is about average.
Name: Signum Vulnus
Race: Faery
Age: 32 (five years older than Sorea)
Orientation: Bisexual
Appearance: Heās 5ā 11ā, the average height for a bird-winged faery. Sorea thought of him as an angel-- an apt comparison, both in physical features and personality-wise. Signum's hair is the color of coals, his eyes are the stormy grey of thunderheads, and his skin is extremely fair. His wings are large, with soft, snowy feathers. He ties his hair back with a leather thong, the long cords trailing down his back.
((Not exactly how I imagined him, but after five tries, I'm not drawing him again...))
Bio: The Occasus (faeries from Occalus) are well-tanned people, but Signumās parents were from the far northern mountains, which accounts for his unusual appearance (among the Occasus, anyways). When he was eight years old, a fire spread from Tehralos into Occalus, the result of a dry, hot summer. During the event, he saw a small toddler girl, her down-covered wings unable to carry her, trapped by the flames. Dashing into the inferno, he picked her up then half-ran, half-flew into a river, keeping her head above the current and dragging her out when they were safe, beyond the reaches of the flames.
He entered apprenticeship at age nine. When he was thirteen, a pesky little seven year old girl followed him on his way to an olive grove-- his personal hideaway when he wanted to be alone, that he might leave the world for a few hours. She revealed that she was the girl from the fire, named Sorea Pardai. Though he initially expressed a great deal of skepticism about her, it soon was swept away by her determination to befriend him. Later he would confide in Sorea whenever he felt that life was too hard; he spoke to her of his dead mother, his cold, dictatorial and frequently violent father, as well as his aspirations to become a healer (despite his father's contrary wishes). When seventeen, he was murdered by the Rau-lass and brought back with half of his friend's soul, a fact which wasn't revealed to him until the end of the War of Light and Dark. At thirty-two, he became one of the youngest Alti ('high healer' plural-- singular = Altus) in the past few decades; this was NOT because he's some sort of prodigy (though he is bright). Rather, it was because he went to join the battlefront right after he found out his friend was a commander on one of them, and he was the most skilled (if not experienced) healer of the five assigned to that field, so he got a major promotion. Due to his friendship with Sorea, he's learned a great deal about fighting, and is proficient with most forms of weapons, most notably pole-weapons (i.e, halberd, lance, poleaxe, etc.). Aside from healing magic (tissue regeneration), he also has poison magic, but he swore to use it only for doctoring people, not in combat; as such, he's never even tried magical warfare, sticking only with weapons.
There was only one time in his life when it looked as though his relationship with Sorea was compromised: when she accepted a mission-- leading a massacre on an impoverished tribe of eastern faeries who, in desperation, had sided with Rau-lass-- in exchange for a promotion to the rank of general, when she was twenty-four. He felt that, as it had been an act done simply to sustain their families, the should be shown mercy, as the calamity wouldn't have even occurred were it not for the government's slow reaction. Sorea disagreed, telling him that they were disloyal turncoats, the highest crime possible. Only later did he find out that it was because she needed to patch up the two halves of her own soul that resided within them.
Name: Argenti Malkeya
Race: Faery
Age: 36
Orientation: Straight
Appearance: Heās tall at 6ā6ā, with a muscular enough frame to not look gangly-- if he wanted to, he could bulk up enough to be like a wolfskin (totally Norse there, not really applicable to this RP). It is quite an unusual height for a butterfly, for this breed of faeries tends to be of a more human height. Silver hair and eyes coupled with clear wings give him a curious appearance, and if his skin didnāt have a faint tan (from work in the sun), heād look ghostly. Like most faeries, his hair is drawn back from his face, loosely bound, with several strands escaping to bar across his face. Unfortunately, I don't have a solid enough idea of what he looks like to attempt drawing him, but a rough description ought to suffice. His features are nice, with the loan of added drama from his unique coloration, but he isn't a heart-stopper like Foertis or ambiguously appealing like Signum. He's just him, and to be honest, he much prefers that.
Mini-bio: Also from the east, Argenti was apprenticed at seven. Later, his master moved to Occalus, taking him along. There, his master met Signum and took him as an apprentice as well as Sorea, who left after a time to become a spy, which is how Argenti knows her. His decision to pursue healing was perceived as unusual, because of his branches of magic. He's a poison and shadow mage, neither of which are traditional healer magics. However, he was set on his path, learning to do as much as he could with poisons and achieving the rest manually; surprisingly, it worked out. Consider this fellow the culmination of the spirit of the eastern faeries. His people aren't warriors, but they adore weaponry and using it for sport. Of all the faeries, they are closest to the elves, thought they live far from their forests, for they share those people's adoration of knowledge, bearing an insatiable thirst to know the why and how of everything. Likewise, Argenti lives for his work, finding pleasure and excitement in the art of healing. Unlike Signum, he doesn't mind using his magic to fight. His shadow-magic is rarely employed, except for moments when stealth is necessary, for the most he can do with that is remain cloaked in darkness-- to gain proficiency in this field, one must allow themselves to be consumed by the power, which he ain't so peachy bout doing. His position as a healer during the war was Talanthae ('second to anathae'- similar to Taladei, for 'second commander'); unlike Foertis, he blatantly stuck to a reputation as a healer, throwing his lot in with mages as little as possible, save for moments of partnership during warfare. Oh, and he left sometime before the fall of the alliance to go rescue Phoenix Raine, his lady-love...
Name: Lysander Ćlfher
Race: Elf
Age: 316
Orientation: Straight, with blurred boundaries.
Appearance: Ah, the hair. The perfect, waist-length river of bronze, flowing down his back like molten metal, each strand soft, supple and strong... until Lilith cut it. Ouch. Lysander's been regrowing his hair; other than that, his most notable feature is the proud, arrogant cast of his face; born a nobleman, he has the habit of looking on the world with general disdain. His eyes are a clear hazel, like mossy tree trunks or light filtering through the murky branches of elvish forests. Full lips and high cheekbones add a slight femininity to his overall appearance, softening the harsh contours made by his aquiline nose and condescending brow. If you get him in the right light, though, and look closely at his left cheek, one may see the barest trace of a cross-shaped scar on his cheek (the result of a mages' duel against Lilith, wherein he lost). As a mage, his clothing of choice are the robes of the profession, preferably billowy and dramatic, made with fine cloth to lend a lofty air of luxury to his 6'0" frame. Should you ever convince him to take off his robes, you'll see that at his left shoulder, there starts a trailing tattoo that leaves off halfway down his torso, on his right, before re-staring on the opposite side to end on his pelvis. The design is mages' runes adorned with elfish ivy, intended to protect oneself from scrying and those rare few people who have the power of foresight.
((No, he doesn't look androgynous; this is my mistake in drawing him. By the way, the bizarre swirls are my somewhat lacking depiction of fire.))
bio: He's an elvish aristocrat and quite proud of it. Actually, his whole family is, and they can all hang around to flaunt it, seeing as not very many have croaked yet, being immortal (elves fancy that they are, despite skepticism from other races. I say that they are, too). Lysander grew up in an ideal, close-knit environment not lacking in comfort or natural beauty. When an elf is rich, they doesn't go about building hulking McMansions so much as they create beautiful courtyards that provide shelter but let in the untamed world, reveling in its glory. His magics are command over air (not to be confused with wind), fire and earth. His decision to go join the elvish front as a battle-mage was fueled a bit by an adventurous desire to see what the other half of life looks like, though his disdainful personality would hardly hint as much. Later, he and Foertis ended up traveling together with Signum, which led to a new use for his powers in the two healers' desire to bring aide.
Name: Kaedo Silens
Race: Faery
Age: 587 human years
Orientation: ...I really don't know...
Appearance: In his youth, Kaedo's hair was a rich golden-bronze color, although it has faded to white now. Kaedo Silens has black butterfly wings; as an easterner, his skin is lightly tanned(think Caucasian beach-goer), but his eyes are the reddish-purple color of mulberries. At 5'6", Silens considers himself an ideal size for an assassin-- spry and on the smaller end of average (it'd be nice to lose an inch, but one can't be too picky). A thin mouth, high cheekbones, aquiline nose and lithe build complete this veteran spy.
Mini-bio: He is Sorea's master, the man who taught her the art of assassination/spying, as well as pounding in various other lessons, such as how she could properly control her telepathy. His best friend is Jael, an elf skilled in the arts of his profession, who has had two apprentices. Together, they made a team that could take a well-oiled machine and reduce it to shambles. Each is an able man in his own right, but together, they're complete (or they were until the faery got old and started losing control over his magic, whilst the elf remained eternally young. Now they're not so good a pair). His is a long life, and I can't even hope to put it all down here. He's extremely close to Jael, who developed suicidal tendencies after the death of his first apprentice. He couldn't always be around his friend, so he took his sword, which was the pinnacle of his people's metal-smithy, and began to feed it Jael's powers over metal and poison. Already imbued heavily with faery magic and telepathic magic, the blade began to take on a life of its own when given increments of the elf's magic, which Kaedo did by stealthily Borrowing such small increments of it that it seemed inconsequential. When the time seemed appropriate, Kaedo melted his sword using his command over flames, then shaped the metal into two slim daggers, completely identical, over the next few days. One of the two, imbued with Jael's magic, he gave to his friend, keeping the twin for himself. The sword had gained almost artificial consciousness after the combination of telepathy and metal-magic it had been through, thus creating a link between its two halves once split. Each dagger contains the intimate magic of either the faery or elf, so the link extended from the knives to them, and in this way Jael was stymied before he could kill himself (whether it was Kaedo going to prevent him from doing it, or the elf thinking of his friend's pain from the link, or some other thing, it worked well. After all, Jael is still alive). Later, when they were no longer needed, the two worked together to force the link into dormancy, and each eventually gave them to their apprentices.