Dracia Eldren was a sharp featured woman. Her long greying hair was pulled back into a severe coif. Narrowed black eyes studied the potential Princess stand-ins. Darcia was well schooled in the ways of ettiquette. She was a seasoned Mistress. Her name was well known about the different Kingdoms and Queendoms.
She was the woman you contacted when you wanted your daughter to become the well cultured and well taught pillar of nobility. She was the woman who schooled young princesses on the fine art of being noble. Dracia was as strict as they come. Years of practice allowed her to use a switch upon her subject without leaving any marks. Only a sharp stinging pain as a reminder of their failures. She lives for her work.
If you wanted to infiltrate a kingdom with a doppleganger…you needed the help of a professional. One who knew all the ends and outs of Princess behavior.
Her dark grey coat hardly never touched the ground as she walked. Her back arched and her head held up proudly. Darcia fingered the switch at her side as she studied these potentials. These potentials were of poor condition. Some of them were farmer’s daughters. Pathetic. She had her work cut out for her. At all times there would need to be at least three princess replacements in training. They would have to learn together. Eat together and train together. Every movement would have to be perfect. And she only tolerated perfection.
Worldly girl from a small northern berg, who likes to get in trouble.
Once trod upon, now brightly shines, a mage fed by what to death declines…
Cold to the core, he is a rather young drow who has no friends and is very quiet and keeps to himself
Sir Whitewing, a typical knight, loyal to his lord to his death and couragous as all get out. Currently leading an army of 10,000 soldiers east to battle the swamp ogres that threaten the borders. Charismatic and rash, he will charge recklessly into battle for his friends, without heed for his life. Smart and out-going he isn’t what most noble’s sons would be.
Saint Duncan is dead, and lies in his tomb, but every year thousands will visit it to lay their hands on the cold stone, and whisper a prayer to the patron saint of exorcism.
izkandar is an Ifrit, a fire elemtal of mideastern lore. he would be at home in a desert or asian steppe setting.
Eyes darkened with kohl, and a long trailing cotehardie, Prince Graeme is a potent sorcerer and eccentric young lord with his eyes set to one goal, the throne of the land.
A legendary ranger from the North, all fear or admire, hate or love, but both have respect for him. He has no home nor hideout, a traveler always. His age is undetermined or his name, but he is called Sentinel, silent and deadly always. He is cunning and pragmatic, in quests he is an excellant tracker and has deadly accurcy with his bow. A master of the sword.
Throughly despising the intrigue and scandals of the royal court,Prince Michael has never mourned the loss of his crown and inheritance to a treacherous advisor of his father’s. No,inflicting vengeance on the usurper and reclaiming his throne is too petty for him. He has a more important quest to fulfill..
“The abominations that walk this earth when they should lie quiet in their graves must be destroyed, and I am he who shall do this! So it sayeth in the Book of Fury!”
...and the crow spoke of an age of eternal night and of the devouring of the sun. The sea will boil the blood of the maker, the sky will flood with a dark pestilence raping the land of all its bounty, and the mounds will break loose what death had acquited… So is the propecy of the end.
“I admit I cannot withstand it’s corruption, I am no goodly man but i do not wish for the end. Too much anger rests in Kadagan as well, who will keep it safe?” Nerrad the Transmuter
When you have everything, you have want for nothing, and then the boredom sets in…
Faye was born into the ocupation of elvish warrior
Prince Reza Ironfist is an interesting kid who will make an interesting hostage for ransom - but tough to keep under lock and key - Think Macaulay Culkin’s character in Home Alone but muchly toned down.
Born from the union of a Kirin-Unicorn and a woodland elf, Chary is a dazzling creature, a child of destiny and unblemished femininity…
Being an artisan first and a merchant second afford Astria a measure of wealth and independence. She specializes in creating jewelry and art pieces with semi-precious/precious stones and metals. Most of her income comes from works commissioned by the wealthy denizens of Widow’s Edge and the surrounding towns. She also owns and operations a little curio shop.
At first glance Astria appears to be just what she projects the artsy shop owner with a hello and smile for all that she encounter. If one were to look closer they would see the energy that pulses around her, the alertness in eyes, the readiness to act at a moments notice. Astria is more than a mere shop owner; she really returned to Widow’s Edge to investigate the attacks on the towns that started when she was a child and claimed the life of her father. During the daylight hours she works as jewelry/art maker but when darkness falls she slides into the night like others slide into clothes. Astria’s mode of dress when doing her nightly patrols is a black shirt, black pants and black suede boots. She also wears a black scarf and veil to hide her hair and face. Her weapons of choice is the katana sword, which she wears, strapped to her back and a set of seven throwing knives that are secured to her upper right thigh by a leather strap. During the daylight hours the weapons are cleverly hidden under her clothes.
Charles Champagne is most likely to be encountered as an invaluable friend to the heroes, or at the worst a charming diversion. After all he is essentially a force for good, with one very disturbing exception…
How much life can the stroke of a brush place to a canvas? Perhaps art does imitate life, the Artist knows. The Artist is usually looking for new models.
A sentient machine which churns out useless items, but may have a more important task. (actually an It).
People argue about the true form of the beasts known as "Bloodtouches", since they seem to take dozens of forms. Unfortunately, their bite's effect isn't in doubt. Anyone bitten by the bright crimson beasts rapidly loses all hair; their skin color shifts to bloody red. Many people fear those under this curse; villages of blood-skinned outcasts huddle in the wilds.