Name: Zenshi “Shadowstep” Vir’ednith(explosion)

Gender: Male

Race: Cursed Drow.

Magic?: He does not wield Magick, but being a Drow especially a cursed one adds a touch to his being. After his Betrayal and Banishment from the Shadow Alley Clan, a very influential and dangerous clan. Zenshi found himself on the run, Word spreads fast in the S.A.C and Zenshi finding no refuge or Sanctuary in any cities had to travel deep into the places that have not been traveled, it is here he found some interesting characters. Hermits, but not like the Mardune who dwelled in the caves. They saw Zenshi battered and beaten from his travels and tended to his wounds and ailments. Here he learned their sacred meditative form and Art. The name seemed foreign or at least forgotten. “EbnFlow” they showed him how to move the energy in his entire being. Using it to enhance his strikes, speed his step, enhance his senses. He was trained in the dark, he still wears his training headband in honour of his Masters. EbnFlow could also form a considerable defense. Him being a Rogue, he wore only reinforced leather and silk. This technique was not given to all, it was the most sacred to these Mystics, the name not connecting to Zenshi… Not yet. “Bull Form” the Masters called it. Concentrating his bodily energy into specific points with great mastery and concentration that could even prevent the penetration of blades. Strong like Iron. When he parted from them they urged him to return after the Ley was restored to complete his training, the Mastery of EbnFlow, and that lesson would be the “Shadow Of the Bull”

Appearance: What Zenshi wore was not accidental, or merely convenient for his blending in the Shadows, the Clan didn’t give him the name “Shadowstep” for nothing, among other reasons. His attire was more symbolic to him, more intimate. Every thread, every straw had a meaning. Black was worn by the Masters of Shadows, for obvious reasons but to Zenshi it meant something more, Black was the attire in which she wore, purple was her skin. His colours matching that of his skin was to remind him of her not to mention the Drow beads that wrapped his neck, her gift to him. His armour was that of reinforced and studded black leather and purple armour with the accents of black and purple silks, his sleeveless trench coat would add a gale like flapping sound when he performed his Shadow Step. A hat or hood was important, especially if ones hair was silver white, to convince the eyes of the blend it had to be seamless, the straw hat while effective had a deeper reason, a pile of straw holding fond memories connecting him to her. Strapped around his waste was his livelihood and his Gourd for his Drink. Potions, Tonics, Elixers, explosives, gases he was Masterful. Attatched to his belt hanging behind him his satchel containing his various treasures and lockpicks. The lock on this was said to be made by Thelgen himself, uncrackable to all but the two. How they met is a mystery for he has never been to the Gates. His body adorned by wraping chains, loose but not dangling. Secure but not constricting. He used these as added defense and in some cases as weapons, the black being perfect in the Shadows. They would symbolize to him the chains of the empire who seized his Love, a constant reminder to him of why he fights and searches. To finish his look he had Elementium plated forearm bracers and very finely crafted Purple and black leather boots, the bottoms padded to silence his every step.

Nation of Origin: Not much is known of Zenshi, how or where he was cursed. He carried the scars, the burns the brands of Dark unknown Magick. Through a desperate and ravenous escape on his part by stealing hoarded firecrackers and two spheres of different colour, both course yet smooth in luster. These tools he would use later before Zendra telling her “Boom Boom” which would inspire her surname for him given by her “Vir’ednith” He would explode his way into the life of a very young Drow girl, Zenra. Their paths would be the same, although the boy had an affinity for being in the shadows, a Destiny. When she was with her friends, he would watch her perched in the Shadows. His past made him trusting of no one, but her. She was the first image he saw upon entering her Village, Her being seemed to shine through the Shadows in which he hid. Their connection grew, becoming insepperable until the dreaded day they Empire came and took her before the ever gaze from the Shadows of Zenshi. He was far too small to keep up with the caravan that took her, as he weaved through the shadows he watched the convy ride off and he would drop to his knees saying only. “I will Save you my Princess.” --- In his journeys he would find his way through some Dark Alleys, it was here he found the Shadow Alley Clan, it is here that he was trained in the ways of Subtlty, deception, Infiltration and with a firm hand he would train him in Assassination, much to the hindrance of Zenshi. Training him for many years, He found a safety with the Clan, here he learned his Masterfull Alchemy, Lockpicking, Pickpocketing, Mastery of Black Powder and Mastery of Martial Arts of Death. They honed him into a killing machine, they favoured his black cursed skin for it made his skill even more honed to be nearly invisible. Cloaked by his straw hat to hide his silver hair, he was melded into the shadows. Silent,Efficient. He remained ever loyal to his Associates, always keeping his long ears to the wind in whisper of his Princess. The day that would see Zenshi Banished was the day in which the Clanmaster hired the Clan to kill his Family, upon the refusal of Zenshi. Looming in the Shadows in disgust of his former idol Zenshi would watch, poison in hand ready to strike until.. his son, young Mickael who would someday be the Fallen Champion of the Empire, falling victim to his Father who knocked him out Zenshi would pounce, confronting Mickael Vultheran in combat but soon he fell victim for he was still inexperienced. The ClanMaster upon selling his child to the same clan who unbeknownst to all was the same clan that Zenshi escaped so long ago. He would then flee to the untraveled path before returning to the rest of the world… To fall into the hands of the Empire… Pulling him back to the Shadows, away from his reunited Princess.

Personality: He seems to be wavered between two sides, One is the side that nurtures his inner child self and his unending Love for Zenra and the other the molded Shadow he became. A consistent pull between both sides. To all he meets he is cold, uncaring and callous. However if it fits his best interests he will put on a stoic, proper visage to allure or manipulate. Using this alter ego to allow his flirtatious words to be shrouded by the veil of the Mask, his heart forever with his Princess. Through the years he would find a fan of the Drink, often if the materials and equipment are readily available he would brew his own mix but for the most part he took a liking to the Dwarven Ale, Lyreum. Often lost in memories, he would drink himself to remember the only good memories that often were clouded by the Shadows within him. Could it be the bright, Ale that seemed to glow reminiscent of the Dwarven Sacred mineral, Lyre. Was what shone the light into these memories?

Style Of The Shadow: Among his Arsenal of Potions, Toxins, Explosives and chains he wielded something more devastating, while always hindered by his refuseal to use a blade only his body his Mastery of the Art was fluid, so natural. An Art reserved for only the highest ranking of the Shadow Alley Clan, very few would ever train in it. Even few were humans that among the handful was Zenshis Master, his Guildmaster Mickael Vultheran who he would later betray at the twanging of the thread of humanity that was ever strong in search of his Love. He Taught Zenshi everything, it was so perfect how his skin would seem to make blending into the form much easier. For this Martial Art was about combining physical, precise strikes with the shroud of Shadow around them, using various jumps, twists, contortions and strikes the practitioner would appear to be one with the Shadows around them. Among his favoured moves is leaping spiraling corkscrew of a kick that is started from a kneeling position. When combined with the Shadows it was a nearly invisible neck shattering kick that unless he wanted you dead would only aim for your chest sending them aback in defensive position. This move he would so lovingly call “Shadows Kiss” another one of his favoured techniques learned by only the most ascended of the Shadow practitioners, as they launched from a kneeling position forward, they would coil their body like a forward tornado, visually circling the Shadow around them. Often used for travel but especially for deadly executions, The name is what would award Zenshi his name by them for his Natural Mastery of it. “Shadowstep” if carrying a blade it made this move lethal in most cases ending with decapitation.. Zenshi upon reaching Enlightenment with the EbnFlow Masters would meld his Shadow Style with the usage of EbnFlow in preparation of his final trial, in the Shadow of the Bull… which upon completion would send him on his Journey to found the Shadow Mist Clan.

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Name: Maxine Runeheart

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Magic: Fire magic

Appearance: Long black hair, light brown eyes and fair skin. Normally in a black leather tunic with boots, a knife strapped to her arm. When given clothes by the Empress she wears a long white dress with silver sandals. Gems adorn her neck and ears with a pearl colored belt. She has an average build and average height of 5'5.

Nation Of Origin: Espanino

Personality: Confident in stature, she is reformed and elegant when needed. She's very quiet with her steps and sneaky when needed. She finds ways to get information, whether it would be ease dropping or speaking directly to the person. She blocks out negative emotions and usually has a blank face. She controls her emotions and isn't hurt by petty words. With those she cares about she opens up and breaks a smile, other wise she is quite closed off and stays professional if called for.

Name: Lorian "The Crimson tide." Castellan.

Title: Lord of Valanice.. The Crimson Tide.

Holding: Valanice.

Gender: Male.

Race: Human.

Magic?: Yes. Water, Poison and Blood Magic. (Note that Blood magic is just a rumour for Lorian ad only the Royals are aware of it's truth.)

Appearance: Long gorgeous, chestnut hair decorates the head of Lorian Castellan that frames his curved facial features and charming smile that constantly keeps upon his face only for a sapphire gaze to accompany his almost perfect features. Lorian has no set of armour as he doesn't seem to require this, even in the thick of battle the man adorns no such thing but a finely made crimson coat that is decorated with leather straps and a white outlining. Underneath is a fine elvish silk shirt and black trousers, boots to match. Upon his left side you can always find the family blade of House Castellan, an obsidian Long sword that was fortified with dark crystals during it's carving, a special order from Chardesh's forges that's been reinforced over the many years it's been passed down but he'll only use this as a last resort, whilst the man is proficient with it he's not exactly the best swordsman as he'd much rather use his arcane abilities. The blade is made in such a way that he'll be able to catch the blood of his opponents regardless of how much actual harm he causes. Nicknamed: "Mizu".

Nation of Origin: Valanice.

Personality: Lorian is perceived as a loyal servant to the Empire, always working in their best interest and assuring it's hold upon the people is firm and it's enemies decimated something that earned him the title "Crimson tide." Tactician that is worthy of legend and an intelligence that can be threatening even to his allies, yet he's the most merciful of the Nobility on the council as he'll always take a diplomatic route before attempting anything hostile or so it would seem..The truth is Lorian's diplomatic route is usually laced with manipulation, blackmail and outright intimidation as he's a snake in the grass, a man whose ambition knows no bounds and personal look upon himself is borderline godlike.

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Name: Draxis “Brazen Bull” Vultheran

Gender: Male

Race:Human

Magic?: No, although as a child he always dreamed of going to study with the Dwarf BattleMages of Mardune, he was just never touched by the Ley. Although the final part of the Drow curse gave him immortality to always live with the touch of the Drow.

Appearance: The most striking visual of this human is his eyes, a curse given to him by his early Drow Masters. His eyes forever white in perfect resemblance to the Drow that cursed him. His long jet black hair and barbarian beard really caused them to glow. His Armour a custom Imperial plate design, forged by the masterful hands of an enslaved Dwarf blacksmith. The plethora and array of ores and magick crystals used by the Dwarves to create their sacred Elementium Steel is what made this armour so strong, light and enchanted, Imperial sigils and crests where engraved into it for artistic appeal. Flowing down from his right shoulder a Silk half cloak branded in the sigils of the Empire. Over his brow he wore an armoured bandana, brandished with horns completeling his visage of the Bull. Strong, powerful and relentless. At his waist he had strapped to him a massive plate belt taking up most of his stomach was brandished with the visage of the Bull etched into it, this as well as the headband were made of a different, normal material that later became enchanted with magical resistance. These he wore with only a leather loincloth when he fought in the Arena Pit. Strapped to his back the Imperial flag that he wore into battle. Draxis is followed to battle or accompanied by small bodyguard of Elite Centurions who are armoured like him and brandish the Imperial flag, they all have the same covered face helmet and various array of weapons. They are the 13th Legion.

Weapons: At his back he carries both a Large wall shield etched around the edge with Imperial sigils and the center a Bull symbol and a jagged claymore that were both made of the same steel as the armour so their lightweight meant he could wield the two handed blade and tower shield like a regular short sword and buckler combat. At his hip his ceremonial Dao Elvish Steel blade, smelted of mithril, platinum, silver and crystals. An ancient sword that was taken by the Empire and the Empress gifted her Executioner with it the sacred blade of Elf kind was now used to let their blood and symbolically taking their souls(or possibly enchanted to take their souls depending) Resting in his chambers on a stone wheeled platform is a Dwarven crafted Brazen Bull that can be moved for Public executions. His favoured method of Elvish execution, especially the Drow he hated so. His eyes would seemingly glow and burn in an evil malicious way everytime he watched the flames of his Bull. The satisfaction of the world being cleansed of that which he hated the most.

Nation of Origin: Originally born in the Capitol, Cyranos. “the Seat of the Empire” so it has become. Born to a struggling family, the last of 13. His mother struggling to care for them all while the father was seldom there. A Petty thief and hired knuckle his dishonesty prevalent to his work and home the same, Draxis always resented his father who at the time he shared the name of his father, Mickael. Which would be influential in his later life as a Centauri as he shows no mercy especially to Bandits and cutpurses.

Personality:Cold and callus, while he is brazen and wrecking like the Bull he is in no way a brainless berserker. He is calculated, manipulative and cunning. Traits he was cursed with when captive by the Drow. While he hates the curse within him he uses the abilities for the Empire to crush their enemies. He savours toying with his prey and breaking their will while coupled with his ferocity in battle. A perfect blend of his Human Arena Berserker upbringing and the curse of the Drow within him. His voice is deep and booming like that of a champion from another realm, Ulfric Stormcloak.

Story: He was born Mickael Vultheran the 6th to a struggling family with twelve other siblings. Loved by his Mother who was the most cherished person in his life, daughter of nobles but cut off until her death severance would be awarded to her children for her choice of husband. As a child he did as children do, played, imagined explored. He was lost in the lore of the Dwarven Battle Mages, their melding of Steel Forgery and Magick in their every being and application. He wished to someday visit the Gate City of the Dwarven Labyrinth Kingdom, for he knew only a few trusted by the Dwarves could enter such a place but to train Magick with the Arch Mages would be a dream. While inquisitive and imaginative Mickael lacked the connection to the Ley, naturally cut off from it he would never use Magick. One day he returned from his studies a young boy of the age 13 now. He came home and something didn’t look and feel right, mother wasn’t doing as she usually did. Not sewing and mending the childrens clothes or tending to the small garden, he slowly stepped into the house to find his mother dead in her favorite rocking chair, two bandits stood before her one cleaning his dagger of the fresh blood. Mickael kept hidden until they left, he went into the house to find his brothers and sisters were killed before their mother. Grief, lonliness and emptiness struck his heart at all his loved ones had been murdered. He knew the city, all the alleys and crevices he frequently explored them. He wandered not knowing where to go he had nowhere to go until he made it to a dark alley where he saw the men who murdered his family and there was a third. He listened intently to the conversation. “12, only 12? There were 13 children and a woman. You need to fulfill the contract. Now leave me.” “Yes Master Mickael. Shadows be with you.” “Shadows be with you.” Mickael Sr spoke to their part. Rage and anger fueled the boy, he bull rushed towards his father, his small dagger in hand. His father backhanded the boy to the ground. “There you are you runt, I was gunna have ye killed to get your mothers parents inheritance but I could just find a vagabond your age easy enough. I have plans for you instead.” He backhanded his child once again knocking him out and placing him in his sack. Mickael awoke an unknown time later deep in the dark caves of the Drow. He was sold to them by his father for their cultish rituals and experiements doing unnatural things to him but all the while fueling his hatred by training him in combat. Seeing a natural anger and hate within him and a bull headedness they renamed the boy Draxis and became their favorite experiement. Having enough of being a slave he sought in the night to kill his ordained Master, upon failing to do so but coming very close the Drow ordered his banishment 13 years after he arrived but not before their final ritual experimentation on him which caused his eyes to burn until they became white like the Drows and his demeanor and Soul seemed to become more like them. Manipulitive, cunning, calculated yet despite being cursed he still had no Drow Magick or any Magick. He wandered desolation with not but a body covered in scars that decorated his average muscular physique and a leather loincloth his hair and beard unkept, matted and filthy. He was picked up unknowingly by a slave caravan while he slept in a ditch. They carted him to the Arena seeing his battle tested body. He had the choice of his armour and upon winning he could keep them until his death. He chose his large belt and headband who had visuals of the Bull. He fought in the Arena for 13 years never being beaten, fighting all but requesting Elves, Drow especially to fight. In one battle his most iconic which was watched over by the Empress herself he fought a group of Drow who wielded fire against him. In a spectacular battle the manifesto was when the Empress ordered the guard to reward his victory over the Drow writing on the ground in pain with a jar of oil, Draxis held it up to her in the balcony before pouring it on the Drow and tossing their torches onto them burning them. He was then freed of the pit by the Empress herself promising him a live of elvish blood at her service. Accepting the honour he was awarded the Blade of the Elves and his title of “Brazen Bull” her Alpha Centauri of the Empire.

Name: Isha Velestiwen 

Gender: Female 

Race: Shadar-kai (Raven Elf) 

Magic: Yes, Ancestoral Magic. Restoration

Appearance: Looks 24 years of age. Her skin looks as when the moon illuminates the night below. It naturally has a form of lines under/around her eyes, and upon her lip. Her hair as sable as the soft feathers upon her shoulder. Long ears that are always perked with intrigue. Her eyes are oceans that one can easily lose themselves in, and possibly drown. Her gaze can be viewed as intimidating, though her height disregards it. Can be seen in always in some form of black garments, and if she takes interest in you, likely no clothing at all. 5’5 and 137lbs. Her body is slim but shapely on her torso and thighs. She may not be the thickest woman, but she uses what she's got.

Nation of Origin: Unknown, Currently. 

Personality: She has a strong respect for every living thing, hoping they live their fullest life. She is in service to the Raven Queen and directly communing with the goddess due to her high status. She has always had a powerful mind from birth and even better control of how to use it for better or worse. She is a perceptive woman and not much can get past her. She is a rather charismatic and convincing creature known for her seductive persuasion. But that shouldn't scare anyone away who wishes to speak with her. She has a charming laugh, and knows how to have some fun. Depending on the day, she can be either Submissive or more Dominant. Due to her race of elves being on the edge of survival and tending to only breed with each other, she's taken it upon herself to help continue it. When traveling, She often uses a polymorph "spell" to change her gender in order to lure women and breed with them. In this form, she calls herself Castilio. She is unsure how many half-children have made it through, but she hopes for the best. She, herself as female, has never mated. Since the queen's disappearance she has been searching on an off for all those years. She hopes to rule out any misconceptions many have of her, and return the Queen to her former glory. Her personal goals aside from her goddess remain a mystery.

Name: (Real name) Romanea (Used name on everything) Sarya Lutz

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Magic: Undetermined

Appearance: From years of neglect, abuse, cruel torment and inhuman practices from the villagers of her prior life; her body is rather slim. She grew to be only 5 feet and 4 inches tall with a small framed torso giving her a weak appearance. Her hips are slightly wider than the average woman with the appealing behind of an elf. Her arms are slim and toned like that of a delicate maiden as her darkened red locks seem like they had been burned by the flames of hell. Eyes darkened by the permanent light redness surrounding her eyes making her greyed aqua eyes seem full of sadness. The cream white skin giving definition to the freckles that decorate her cheeks, nose and center of her neatly trimmed brows to give her beauty not known to many. She holds her body bowed and closed in front of the public but in secret, in the darkness, she is broad and open with no shame. Just above the right side of her upper lip, a beauty marks she was born with. Not many seem to notice underneath the bindings of her black top that she has her breasts bound for them to see small though out in the darkness they are let lose for her sex appeal to draw her victims in.

Nation of Origin: Known to only the Emperor and Empress (--------) To the public (Valanice)

Personality: Romanea is a quiet woman as she works underneath the hand of the Empress. Appearing as nothing more than a handmaiden with a shy and quiet demeanor. Keeping a steady gaze behind the Queen and following orders without question. She is heavily submissive but only in the light of the public. Within the night, under the Emperors hand, she is full of sass and a poisonous glare as she turns into a ruthless assassin. She smiles with every kill and baths in the blood of others and her own. Her insanity knows no bounds as she uses almost any means to kill another. She finds pleasure only in the use and slaughter of others. Nicknaming her in the underground as the “Hydra’s Mistress”

Name: Hildria

Gender: Female

Race: Banished Valkyrie

Magic?: Yes- Manipulation of weather, seeing into the future of battles, earth magic, life magic

Appearance: (Before being banished): Tall, slender, long blonde hair, fair skin, wore a pure white robe, two large white wings. (After being banished): Taller than most mortal women, muscular, dark black hair, pale skin, black armor, four large black wings, axe of Hel, shackles that bind her to the mortal world around her wrists and ankles.

Nation of Origin: Valhalla

Personality: She was once kind, but bullheaded. Since she was banished from the halls of Valhalla she has grown to dislike men. She is stubborn and strong willed. She is brave and over protective of people she cares about. She doesn't like to be told what do, and she has a very high temper. She is also very loud isn't afraid to say what is on her mind.

Name: Aeternita (Nita for short.)

Gender: Female.

Race: Half human, half Fae (Faerie).

Appearance: She's a small slender thing, with long dirty blonde hair, strands of which often come down and frame her oval face. Her eyes are a deep amethyst color and her most noticeable features are the two silver wings that flutter gracefully upon her back.

Nation of Origin: Unknown, though she grew up in a small village in Valanice.

Personality: Aeternita is a sweet and caring person, her loyalty is beyond measure and once your held within heart you'll always be there. She abhors violence and will always do whatever she can to stop situations from reaching that point. That's not to say she's weak, she can hold her own with her magic but generally only uses it when backed into a corner and all other options are spent. She can be naïve and somewhat overly trusting as she does her best to see the good in everyone.