Ildran is a cold blooded murderer who prefers fire over all other methods. He immolates his victims by trapping them inside wooden structures and then torching them. He is also meticulous about eliminating witnesses quickly and finally.
"Who would make such a thing?"
Meyurk is a Egoyo, a hermit with dangerous friends, and a mystic home..
The Lord of Agony, He of Corpulent Pain
30 Assassins, both great and pathetic. - Die, by our hands…
"Yeeah!" the old man shouted as he made a dramatic flurry with his chalk - the mounted knight now bearing a stylized lance as it bore down on the many-headed dragon before it.
"Yes, there are some unusual patterns to these - her patients, but we have nothing to prove anything other than statistical anomalies."
The father of the Hanaset society, who to this day watches his people through reptilian eyes…
The kingdom of Shyvora is known for its inclusion of non-humans. One of their best fighting Dukes is a tree…
"You may have wondered what lead me down this path? It was the simple observation I made while escavating the tomb of an ancient chieftan If only these bones could talk…"
From the personal account of Meridah Onware, in discussion with Professor Siana Tamar.
30 Mostly Maddening Merchants
Standing at the prow of the ship, Ashala rejoiced at the strong winds catching her midnight-black hair - flapping it like a pennant. The dark clouds ahead would have filled other seafarers with dread. Not Ashala. The dark clouds and wicked winds were an invitation, a challenge.
"Steady as she goes!" she shouted over her shoulder to the shipmaster, "To the Eye!"
I would have never had thought one could come to like a rattling pile of walking bones, but Tohm simply grew on me. Watching him play checkers with Formuro was always amusing - whenever he took one of Formuro’s pieces he would rattle his jaw in joy.. From the diary of Professor Ethric, faculty of Divination.
Hachnar T’ Velstrad
An insular alchemist walking two paths..
They had thought him a crank, an eccentric, not practicing a real form of magic. How wrong they were.
“Seizing this one was far easier then I expected,” thought Yuther the devil, ” he puts up no fight!
“No my lord!” cried Herithi. “Have Mercy! Take my eyes instead!” Why did I say that?! thought Herithi, shock registering through him.My eyes? Shalali protect me…
Once a decorated Theosian Soldier, now a wanted deserter.
Even 20 years of service was not enough for them - still they taunt me. Will I ever be free?
What if casting magic changed (for a few hours or days depending on the strength of the spell) the colour of the skin of the spellcaster? It could lead sadly to a very racist world to rp in.