Name: Nesiana Alvera Kaleiso

Gender: Female

Age: Twenty Three

Race: Coraiary

City of Birth: Dashir

Location: In the Ally camp

Appearance:

Hair color: A soft grayish white.

Eye color: Red slit eyes

Skin color: Obviously her skin is pale but tends to be on the darker side of pale.

Height: 5'6 ft

weight: 120 lbs

Outfit: Similar to what is in the picture aside from the fact that the color for her outfit is black with red markings, not gold with black markings.



Personality:

Positive traits
Calm
Courage
Educated
Flexible
Intelligent
Logical
Perceptive
Resourceful
Sexy
Witty

Neutral traits
Ambitious
Deceptive at times
Sarcastic
Whimsical

Negative traits
Apathetic
Cynical
Frightening
Insensitive
Quirky
Superstitious






History:Born to a very distorted elven family, Nesiana was the second , and last child in her family. Her older brother was considered far more superior to her in terms of how her parents raised them. He was taught everything about war tactics, ideals, and that marriage was a sealing of two beings, but not a promise for children.

She was not as favored as her brother. A piece of parchment was always under her nose, teaching her of the gods war, and how failure was not an option for those that saved the world. This was not the only subject her mind poked its brain into. Often, her reads would end up being about war, tactics , and morals of the elven coraiary race. Divulging herself in such subjects made her seem heartless to those around her as she often refused to eat with the family, or even bother to speak two words to them.

At times, training herself with a bow, or a dagger would be entertaining. Every once in a while, she would manage to take down a creature or two. Word had passed around that there was a female elf that could take down a large beast. However, this was just pure speculation, and rumor in the village. ( She never took down a large beast...honestly, they were hard to find)

The worst was yet to come.
The day she turned fourteen she decided to leave home. Her curiosity of the world made her want to see what the world was made of. On her travels, she heard stories of a prophecy, or some sort of destruction that may happen, but it wasn't her business.

On a warm sunny day, She was traveling through the woods in Tangor forest, trying to use the forest to make it to Ashmore ( a rumored trade city that she had never seen before) when a chill went down her spine. A chill so cold that it made her heart nearly stop. For a second. going home passed through her brain, but disappeared like smoke in the sky.
Upon coming up to a very strange village, she noticed how people were somber. It was as if they couldn't have a shred of hope for the future. Her feet wandered the village seeing human children being grabbed, and taken into their huts. Typical. Elves were not exactly welcome. Her kind were especially judged for some thought they thrived on blood like demons. These myths...were just that. Myths to scare children.
Mutters ran through the village. She must have gotten lost, and ended up closer to Grenmer than she really wanted to be. Not close enough where the mist had touched, but close enough to tell something had happened to change these people's outlook on life. An old hag grabbed her fingers tracing the lines on her hands.
" You best be getting on yar way now Miss. Go back the way you came for there is only death for you there dear. Only death. We will be next ….and there is no guessing when the thickness will find its way back to us. Yar best to try your luck the way you came. For death will only find you here."
Nesiana couldn't possibly figure out why death was going to greet her here, but she certainly did not want to chance a ambush of villagers. She turned on her white mare traveling back the way she came through the woods. Unaware of how close the mist was to actually seething its teeth into her soul.

When she reached another small village further north than Dashir, she found signs on huts trying to recruit the faithful to fight against demons. The very idea felt like a joke to her. Well, that was till she read the flyer which said Dashir had been taken by the mist. Mist? She had ridden through the middle of the Tangor woods, and saw no such mist, but definitely felt something sinister in the woods. Maybe she would check out exactly what the mist meant?

Thus, she made her way to the ally camp.

Other: (anything else you’d like to add?)

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@Ristina approved, sent you a PM, feel free to post in the IC and welcome aboard!

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Aaaand posted. Fain wrote Caldrian's parts, obviously.

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Very EPIC post. Way to go guys! The story is really starting off. I"m very excited. Two very well writen posts. Very much looking forwards to the others :D

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Right now there's no set posting order so your fine. Maybe after my next post there will be more for you to go on? Seeing as it's just the beginning right now things are very flowy and undefined.

Let me know if you need a hand with anything.

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No worries. You're not holding anything up. And there is no rush to post at all. Whenever you feel like it. Your spot will always be open in this RP. Join in whenever you feel like it.

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Thanks!

My pleasure :D

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Name: Vardhyn Trall
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Race: Elf (Coraiary)
City of Birth: Minaston
Location: Wornshir (Prelude), Ally Camp (Present)

Appearance:
-Build: Just under six feet tall. Strong compared to the average elf, due to a lifetime of manual labor, and not quite as nimble. The excessive training and sporadic conflict from the last month has only began to solidify this trend. Compared to human or dwarf, however, he is still rather lean.
-Eyes: Typical Coraiary eyes, red and slitted.
-Hair: Pale, nearly white. Long in the prelude. By the time the actual adventure begins ("the present"), it is poorly cut to a short length, and messy.
-Skin Color: Pale, at an average shade for a Coraiary.
-Appearance: Standard attire for a soldier in service of the allied army.

Personality: Grief can make people turn bitter. For Vardhyn, however, it has not, mainly due to the fact that he refuses to acknowledge it. Stuck in a state of denial that has extended far beyond its initial trigger, he unconsciously represses most negative thoughts under a jovial mask that he himself believes. As a result, anyone speaking to him in depth may start to notice a clear disconnect, between how Vardhyn may perceive a situation and what is the actual truth of the matter. He is loyal to a fault, however, and his difficulty in acknowledging grief and fear grants him a passionate, though unhealthy and potentially self-destructive, resolve against adversity.

History: Vardhyn was born in Minaston, amongst a Coraiary community. It was there he grew up with Aithne, a Coraiary girl who he would eventually marry. Due to a shared combination of wanderlust, curiosity, and adventure, they left their community, their friends and family, and traveled south. After some time traveling, the journey broken up by the occasional peril on the road, they eventually settled in the village of Wornshir. As a pair of Coraiary elves, they stood out amongst their new community, but their respectful nature and willingness to contribute soon earned them a grudging acceptance. Between the two of them, they eventually saved up enough money, through taking various jobs throughout the city, to purchase a home of their own in the northern outskirts.

@Zen Approved. I will add him to the list tomorrow morning :D

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