Sign Up Golden Sands [M-VL poss. S]

[Ezekiel]

[CENTER]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=#E2CA99][U][B]Golden Sands[/B][/U]

The dunes of the Malroy Desert stood majestic; silent guardians of the golden world in which they stood. Only a slight breeze moved thin sheets of sand from their resting spot, small lizards and birds scurried about on the hot surface, desperate to find shade.

Then it was heard, a single cry sending Arma birds into the red sky, their shrill cries of shock and terror heard across the whole desert. Horses hooves pounded on the sands sending clouds of gold into the previously still air, the army approached the top of the large dune it?s general leading the way with his spear held out in front of him.

In the distance stood their enemy, the intruders in this land of sand and endless heat. They stood still; the army of Meram from the water kingdom had ventured away from their cool home to claim the land of the Malroy in a battle that would stain the sands crimson with the blood of the sand guardians.

Only a few yards away now, the Malroy army lowered their spears and swords as the black horses charged ever faster. The Marem general signalled and the arrows were launched, piercing both animal and human as the onslaught continued mercilessly. Malroy soldiers fell, others behind tripping over the dieing bodies of their fellow men.

Unable to stop now, the two mighty forces clashed in a roar of battle cries, the shrill sound of metal on metal was an eerie noise in this once silent land.

For hours the battle waged on, the Malroy forces being pushed back against their will down the dune they had come from. Horses tumbled down and men fell to their deaths, crushed by their faithful steeds or suffocated by the sand. The end seemed to be drawing near, the Meram army bearing down upon the fallen soldiers of Malroy, their creatures, not ones of this realm, feasting on the dead flesh of the defeated.

As the general of Malroy lay dieing, the corpse of his horse trapping him against the sand, he drew out a vial. In the small crystal container held a golden liquid that seemed to move of it?s own accord. He drew in a deep breath and pulled his arm back, staring in terror as a beast of Meram charged towards him. In his last moment, the general threw the vial, watching with bated breath as it shattered on the ridge of the dune behind him.

The golden liquid seemed to explode, cascades of bubbling water flowed from the top of the dune, shooting off spouts high into the air. The Meram soldiers took no heed, seeing this as a sign of surrender. But as they raised their swords in victory everything seemed to stop and slow. The winds died down as sand began to swirl at the feet of the blood soaked men.

The golden liquid rose and fell against the sand as the sky changed, now taking on a violet hue. Dropping their swords, the Meram army took fleeting glances around the dunes that surrounded them, weary of what was about to come.

A single shadow on an eastern dune was all they saw at first. Something was coming, floating above the collected forces. Another shadow appeared, this one in the west. The Meram army now sweating with fear gathered together in a group, realising they were in the centre of a sand bowl, dunes surrounding them on all sides. The golden liquid flowed down pooling around their feet. More shadows flittered across the sand, and then all went silent.

As quickly as it had begun, a cry was heard and the sky exploded into a deep purple colour as fire rained from the sky. The last hope of Malroy had arrived; the Mages of the Sand. A hundred men and women circled around the bowl, their white and violet robes fluttering slowly in the wind. The Meram army were dumbfounded, never had they seen such an ominous sight and they knew that they would never see their homeland again.

A single man drifted forward, his long hair hanging past his waist gave the impression of silver wings as he landed on a northern dune facing the enemy.

[B]?I see you have decimated our forces.? [/B] His voice was low, but all heard him. The other mages landed now, fists at their sides as they took in the massacre around them. The man raised his hand, palm faced towards the last Meram army as he uttered three words,
[B]?[I]Archi Unlea Finalti[/I].?[/B]

The sky went black, the two moons ceased to shine, and one deafening scream marked the end of the Meram army. Three hundred men brought down by one Mage, God only knew what a whole army of them would be capable of.
****
News travels fast in the Realm of the Living and soon word of this seemingly invincible army had spread. The land of Malroy found themselves making new allies along with foes. Meram joined with the Realm of the Dead in secret to build their army for an all out battle, one where the only prize was the death of the enemy.

The day that Malroy defeated the Meram in battle is a day that will never be forgotten. As the sun rises to mark this new day, the one-year anniversary of Meram?s brutal defeat, plans of death and destruction are coming to their completion.[/COLOR]
****

It?s thanks to this music that I was able to write so much, I believe.

This RP will run in chapters, for races and key characters please refer to the [URL=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?p=648619#post648619][COLOR=Red][B]underground[/B][/COLOR][/URL], thank you.

[B][U]Sign Up-[/U][/B]
[B]Name:[/B] (We?re using magic in this RP so feel free to go a little crazy.)
[B]Age:[/B] (No less then 25)
[B]Gender:[/B]
[B]Race:[/B] (Refer to underground)
[B]Occupation:[/B] (Soldiers/Mages can also have a side job)
[B]Position:[/B]
[B]Weapon:[/B] (No guns, please)
[B]Spells:[/B] (Only for Mages-Max. of three major spells.)
[B]Appearance:[/B] (Picture or good description-also feel free to go a little wild for this)
[B]Personality:[/B]
[B]Excerpt of Character:[/B] (To replace bio, please give me a little idea of how you will post in the RP. I?d like this to be at least forty lines long.)

I ask for everyone to check the underground before posting. I am only taking on three more mages as one of them is reserved for myself.[/SIZE][/CENTER]

[Kamuro]

Name: Luc Fallan

Age: 29

Gender: Male

Race: Meram

Occupation: General

Position: Meram General

Weapon: Longsword kept at his left side.

Spells: None

Appearance:
[IMG]http://tinypic.com/2n3mli[/IMG]

Personality: Luc is a cold, unforgiving man. He has risen in the rank of the Meram army due to the unfortunate end of the former Meram General. He is confident in his abilities, especially in battle. His judgement sometimes becomes impared on the battlefield, however, and he becomes an uncontrollable monster.

Excerpt of Character: A young man walked down a dark narrow hallway in a large Meram castle. It was quiet and the only sound that could be heard was the echo of the man's footsteps as he walked. When he finally reached the end of the hallway he found himself in front of a large door. He twisted the rusty handle and opened the door. Inside the large room he found 3 men standing and one sitting at a desk in front of them. The man walked forward and stood still next to the 3 men previously standing in the room. The man in the desk began to speak.

"Welcome all of you, I've called you here to discuss the matter I'm sure you've all heard about. The former General of the Meram army has been killed in a violent slaughter of our people by the Mages of the Malroy army. It was truly unfortunate but I believe he will be replaced here and now by one of you. Now don't flatter yourselves, this is merely a test. We need a stern, cold-hearted general. Someone precise on and off of the battlefield. Although I doubt any of you will fit this mold, I have no choice but to..." The man's speech was cut off by a quick "hmph." He looked upon the four men standing in front of him and noticed it had been the most recent of the men to join them that had made the sound. "Something to say Luc?" asked the man at the desk. "Your wasting my time Counselor, I did not come here to endure your long-winded speech, nor your opinion of my abilities." The man standing next to him spoke "You can't speak to the Counselor that way, have some respect!" Luc gave him a quick look drew his sword and in mere seconds the man's head had resumed its position in Luc's hand. The other two men gasped as the Counselor smiled. "The rest of you may leave, Luc, you will stay."

The other two men walked cautiously out of the room and closed the door behind them. The counselor spoke "It seems your just the man I'm looking for to assume control of our army." Luc gave a smile "As I expected." The Counselor took something from his desk "This pendant is proof of your position in the Meram army. It was recovered from the neck of our former general and I expect you to wear it at all times. Now go ready your troops and equipment, we never know when another attack will ensue." Luc took the blood stained pendant and put it around his neck. He turned and walked from the room.

[Engel]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]Name:[/b] Arthas Varathimas
[b]Age:[/b] 28
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Race:[/b] Malroy
[b]Occupation:[/b] None
[b]Position:[/b] General Mage

[b]Apperance:[/b] [URL=http://www.rpgslave.com/descargas/artworks/Chaos/images/Chaos%20Legion%20-%20ArtWork09_jpg.jpg]Arthas[/URL]

[b]Weapon: [/b]
[u][i]Frostwyrm:[/i][/u] His blade is a keen black, etched with gold runes and symbols. The symbols are said to make it a Runeblade, very powerful. This one is well known to spout ice from its strikes, freezing the water in the air to create long shards of ice that impale its victims. Arthas keeps this blade by his side at all times when in combat, otherwise, its in his personal study, locked in his closet.

[b]Spells:[/b]

[u]Chains Of Frost:[/u] Chains of jagged ice wrap around the victim, squeezing and ripping, holding them down. They are said to be unbreakable, and their touch is deadly. This gives Arthas time to tear them to shreds with other spells, or his blade.

[u]Frost Shield:[/u] This spell covers Arthas in an unbreakable shield that damages anyone who tries to strike him. This only lasts for a limited time.

[u]Sword of The Silver Shard:[/u] When Arthas invokes this, his most powerful spell, time stops. He dashes once, twice, three, four, five, six times. As he does this, he makes a pentagram, and from that pentagram, shards of ice leap from the earth into the foe.

[b]Personality:[/b] Arthas is a well liked man, who blends in with his soldiers. He communicates with them in a calm and orderly fashion, his young 28 respected by even those that are veterans, like his most trusted officer, Tharen. However, when someone refuses to listen, and ignores him, Arthas can be ruthless. He'll demand their attention if its important, and if they still ignore him...well, Arthas puts them on a month's leave without pay.

In short, Arthas can be the nicest guy in the building, or your worst nightmare. All ya have to do is pay attention.

[b]Excerpt of Character:[/b] Arthas looked at the sky bathed in the dark through a small window in the huge tower like buliding. The slits in the sandstone were so small, it was hard to get your pinkie finger through. He lay awake, tormented by the recurring dream, and of the absurdly high heat, way up in the lofty peak of the Zuriah Tower.

The dream...Arthas pondered this as he put his feet down on the cool stone, refreshing to touch. He was underwater...even though the parched, sandpaper textured desert outside wouldn't allow it. Every time he struggeled to get up, he kept going down. A hand...

Arthas sighed, and got up. Ever since the battle a year ago, he had been tormented by this dream and countless others. A way of the ruthless Meram getting back at him even from beyond the grave. The other dreams he didn't want to dwell on, lest they keep coming back at him.

He was supposed to be a battle hardened warrior, the General Mage. He was supposed to be the leader for everyone, tell them what to do, give them guidance, never showing any hint of weakness. Arthas grew angry as these thoughs ran through this mind. He picked up his blade, and threw it to the celing. Ice gushed out of the blade, into the celing.

"At least it got cooler in here." Arthas spoke through the darkness to himself, jumping and grabbing the sword out of the celing. He hung his head, reveling the coolness that spread from the nearby sandstone. His silver hair hung down, glistening with cold sweat.

Arthas whipped it backward, laying down as he began to think of that day, one year ago. He had seen people he knew ripped apart with brute force, and cruel weapons. He had done his own part in the fight, killing countless Meram, but it wasn't enough. Finally, when it seemed like it was only him left, he summoned all of his strength into one final spell.

[i][b]?Archi Unlea Finalti.?[/i][/b] As he said thsoe words of power, he felt a tingle in his fingers that spread throughout the foe, ripping them apart.

Arthas couldn't remember the spell now. It could only be described as ultimate. He sighed, like had so many times in the minute before. His whole life he had been training to wipe out their entire army. Now he couldn't even remember the spell he used.

Getting a drink of cool water from the Refectory below his room helped as the horrid humidity rose back, carrying the scents of old food and body odor, choking his lungs like invisible hands. There was a larger window down in the refectory, and Arthas could see the twin moons, one red, the other the pearly white.

[i]Hunter's moon...[/i] It was fitting, the very night before the one year anniversary.[/color][/size]

[Anne]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkOrchid][b]Name:[/b] Nyx
[b]Age:[/b] 32
[b]Gender:[/b] Female
[b]Race:[/b] Yarou
[b]Occupation:[/b] none
[b]Position:[/b] Black Mage
[b]Weapon:[/b] [url= http://www.medieval-sword.com/images/celtic-norse-sword-2045.jpg] Sword [/url]
[b]Spells: [/b]
[u][I]Mirror?s eye[/I][/u]- This can not be used during battle. This allows Nyx to look at others. There are rules to using the mirror though. Though Nyx can look in on the person there is no sound. Also they picture is not perfectly clear, it is fuzzy, but you can still make people and things out. The last rule is that while gazing in the mirror Nyx can not place a spell on that person.

[u][I]Illusion?s eye:[/I][/u] Nyx uses a mirror to project a different image of herself. The image isn?t perfect though it is flawed in some ways. Most times in the detail of the face. Mostly only other mages can tell this spell has been casted. Though some have been able to see through her illusions.

[u][I]Restless souls:[/I][/u] Nyx most powerful attack and most harmful to herself and others. Nyx can gather the souls around her and take them into her body. She than take whatever energy they have left and projects it into a blast. During the times she collect the souls of the fallen she leaves herself venerable to attack and she can?t block it. Also whenever she does this attack it shorten her life span. For these reasons she has never used it and doesn?t want to.
[b]Appearance:[/b] Nyx is a tall women who stands 5?10. Her face is shaped in a narrow oval, giving her a handsome beauty. Her eyes are a slim almond shape with the colour of clear crystal blue that seems to pierce through you. Cheekbones that are high and give her face a soft appearance. Her lips are thin and lush, her mouth is never smiles, but keeps a neutral expression. Nyx hair is flaming red and flows down in a wave to her hips.

Her body frame is slim and light. Nyx skin is white with almost a ghastly look to her. It is a sharp comparing to her flame red hair. She has very long arms and legs, which give her the appearance of gracefulness. Her hands are delicate with long sharp nails.

Her outfit is comprised of a black undress made of black lace and silk. The black under dress comes to her ankles and is cut into a jagged pattern with a lace trim. Above this dress is a white velvet that has a low cut. A small-v shows the black underneath on the chest. The sleeves are long and come to her elbow and the white velvet splits and shows the black under lace. At her hips the white fabric splits and reveals the black under dress. The white dress comes down to her feet. Her shoes are black knee high boots, which lace up. A black wool hooded cloak finishes her outfit.
[b]Personality:[/b] Nyx is a woman of mystery. She herself hidden away and is rarely seen. During this time she trains herself harder to become stronger. She is in love with power and the fight. They say that the only time she smiles is if she is in a fight and the only time you can hear her laugh if after she is victorious in her battle or at her death. Many would describe her eccentric.

While she lived in Malroy she was the same way. She steered clear of people around here. Most of them knew her by her real name, Leiko Faolon, which she despises. When she went to find a new and greater power at twenty she changed her name to Nyx. With a new name and a new life she felt reborn again
[b]Excerpt of Character:[/b] From the top of the small mountain cave, she stared down on the land of death that lay before her. The dry wind picked up and tossed her flame red hair about her face and body. Her dress flowed giving her the appearance of one of the undead souls.

Nyx had lived here for twelve years now and has never got tired of it. She turned her back from the view and entered her cavern home. The dark rock swarmed around her, the only light was torches that where placed a couple of feet apart. Her cave was basically bare except a few essentials. She had a few blankets thrown about in a corner where she slept. In the center of the black circle were a wooden table and one chair.

At the far end of the doorway was an area that was in total pitch black. Nyx walked to the area and uncovered the object. A clear shinny mirror stood the height of her. It?s frame was wood but painted golden. She stood up against it and lends on it staring at herself. She backed off some and lifted it right hand up and laid it flat on the smooth flat glass.

This mirror allowed her to see the world without her leaving her place. She had seen the battle one-year before without getting involved. Though it had pained Nyx not to get involved, she loved a good fight. It was one of the few things that brought her joy. The thing that had intrigued her the most was the silver hair mage. Whoever he was he had a great power and she wanted it.

She stared into the looking glass with her clear blue eyes. Concentrating on the one the silver hair mage she spoke the works to activate the mirror. ?[I]Mirror?s eye, look forth and show me the one I desire.[/I]? The image appeared in the mirror of the mage. He was just walking down the halls. She watched on for a few more minutes and waved her hand. The image faded. It was nothing of use to her.

She placed the cover back on the mirror and sat down in her chair. She could feel it in her that a battle was soon was going to be brewing. Nyx brushed her hand on the hilt of her sword that lay next to her chair. ?I think I may join this time.? She closed her eyes.

For the past year she had heard the whispers and rumors around this land that they would help. She only grinned at the chance for along with those rumors came hers. Some believed she was real and others didn?t. It almost made her want to grin, almost. What a surprise it will be when she shows up. She opened her eyes and starred up at the ceiling. If anyone who was there they would think she could see through the rock and into the sky.
[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[Sakura]

[size=2][color=Navy][b][color=Black]OOC:[/color][/b] [color=Black]I'm not used to playing Males but here's a shot at it. I don't like the Excerpt very much but I can't think of anything else so... Let me know for changes. [/color]
[b]
Name:[/b] Zephan Sinclaire

[b]Age:[/b] 26

[b]Gender: [/b]Male

[b]Race:[/b] Malroy

[b]Occupation:[/b] None

[b]Position:[/b] Mage

[b]Weapon:[/b] Blade/staff from [url="http://www.ragnarokhq.com/database/classes/sage_m.jpg"]this[/url] pic which he always carries around.

[b]Spells:[/b]
[u][i]Fire Spin:[/i][/u] Creates a stream of flame that quickly wraps itself around the enemy like a large fire tornado, used for trapping, interogation or just normal attack. He can make the flames get closer by squeezing his open hand slightly, when he closes it completely, his hand will be a fist.

[u][i]Flame Shield:[/i][/u] For protection he'll call on his fire powers which will surround him and will incinerate or melt anything or anyone that touches it.

[u][i]Fire Storm:[/i][/u] Zephan's most powerful attack, the sky becomes covered in clouds and it rains fire, then several Fire Spins will appear and will attack anything or anyone in its path. This attack causes the most damage but Zephan only uses it sometimes, because it uses a lot of energy and he becomes exhausted.

[b]Appearance:[/b] [url="http://www.ragnarokhq.com/database/classes/wizard_m.jpg"]Here[/url]
[b]
Personality: [/b]Zephan is a quiet person and enjoys reading, usually a spell book. He has one in particular that he keeps with him always in a pocket in his cloak. It's full of particularly strong fire attacks that he's trying to learn. He's a friendly kind of person and likes to be with the other two mages that belong to Malroy, the General Mage and his female counterpart. He enjoys to spend time with Arthas because he's kind, young and teaches him. Zephan doesn't usually become angry, unless its against the Merams, who he shows no tolerance to.

[b]Excerpt of Character:[/b]
Zephan was positioned on a cliff overlooking the ocean, the cold salty breeze blew past him and billowed his cloak out behind him. His reddish brown hair ruffled in the wind but Zephan paid no heed to it. His grey eyes focussed on something on the horizon that glittered in the light. He knew not what it was but stood entranced. Using his left hand, Zephan reached into a pocket of his cloak and retrieved a thick, tattered book. He whirled around, making his cloak fly again, he walked away, his shoes making crunching noises against the loose rocks and sand, his blade staff thumping the ground like a walking stick.

Zephan's eyes scanned around before ducking into a small tunnel that he had discovered. He held his hand palm up and a ball of fire appeared, using the light to guide him, he continued through the tunnel until he reached a cavern. He snapped his fingers and the flame divided into several smaller ones and spread across the room, lighting the candles situated around. Zephan sat in a dusty, frayed armchair heavily, causing dust to spray out and float around. He rested his blade staff against the wall behind him and turned his attention to the book he carried. Zephan flipped open the book gently as to make sure that the hard cover didn't detach itself. He flicked through the thick parchment like pages quickly, knowing what he was looking for. He had studied this book for many years, still trying to master all of the powerful flame spells contained within.

He found the page he was searching for and read it over. He frowned with distress, he had done all that it said to do and looked over at the adjoined page, which was a different spell all together. Zephan's eyebrows knitted as he brought the book closer to his face, there looked like a page had been torn from the book. He stood and searched for an eyeglass, putting it over the fold of the book he examined the pages, sure enough, there was evidence of a page being torn. Zephan cursed loudly and stood, closing the book swiftly he slipped it back into the pocket and retrieved his blade staff, he stomped out of the cavern, snapping his fingers to extinguish the flames. He walked along and exited the tunnel.

[b]"I'll check the library, perhaps it...fell out." [/b]he said doubtfully.

Zephan sighed into the wind as he made his way back to the building. When Zephan had arrived at the building he met with Arthas, mentioning to him that he would be in the library if anyone wanted him he departed. Arthas just shrugged as he wasn't surprised, Zephan spent a lot of time in the library studying different spell books, wanting to become stronger and perhaps become General Mage some day. Zephan pushed the large double doors open as he entered the library section of the building. He greeted the librarians on duty and walked toward the area where he usually sat. He scanned the shelves carefully, looking for any trace of his page. When his search was unsuccessful he let out a noise of frustration, making one of the librarians hurry over to him. Zephan told her of his problem and she smiled, taking him to the counter. She went behind it and searched below, surfacing holding a thich parchment-like page, the same type as his book. She showed it to him and he grabbed it happily, asking why she had it. She explained that when he was in a hurry to leave, he had closed the books harshly and pulled another book he was reading out of his Flame book, taking the page too. By the time they had found it, he had left and they kept it for him. Zephan thanked them and left, in a better mood than before.
[/color][/size]

[Mykul]

[B]Name-[/B] Toran Syfert

[B]Age-[/B] 26

[B]Gender-[/B] Male

[B]Race-[/B] Urla

[B]Occupation-[/B] None

[B]Position-[/B] Unitless Urlan Commander

[B]Weapon-[/B] Byte [URL=http://tinypic.com/view.html?pic=4fzlao](CLICK)[/URL] Byte is the sword of Toran's bureaucratic and highly esteemed Urlan family. It is tradition that the oldest male of the family in military service carry this sword with him into battle. Toran took this from his father's dead body after the battle against the legion of undead troops which no man in the Urlan batallion except Toran survived.

[B]Appearance-[/B] [URL=http://tinypic.com/view.html?pic=4fzkgk]CLICK[/URL]

[B]Personality-[/B] It will be done

[B]Excerpt of Character-[/B] It also will be done

[Revelation]

[size=1][color=#C82356][B]Name-[/B] General Ambika
[B]Age-[/B] 37
[B]Gender-[/B] Female
[B]Race-[/B] Yarou
[B]Occupation-[/B] N/A
[B]Position-[/B] General of the Yarou Army
[B]Weapon-[/B] Ambika
[B]Appearance-[/B]

[B]Personality-[/B] Those who have seen Ambika tremble at her feet, fearing her wrath. She was one who did not tolerate failure, dishonesty, weakness, and betrayal. If it came to it, she, herself, would deal with those who disobeyed her words and find it in her own small mercy to give leeway

[B]Excerpt of Character-[/B] The purring of Arawn was heard as Ambika looked out on the balcony, watching the soldiers train for the coming day of war. A smug smile

I shall finish momentarily.[/size][/color]

[Skye]

[size=1][u]Sign Up-[/u]
[b]Name:[/b] Mi?irilka Ivybound
[b]Age:[/b] 29
[b]Gender:[/b] Female

[b]Race:[/b] Urla
[b]Occupation:[/b] None
[b]Position:[/b] Healer
[b]Weapon:[/b] Herbs
[b]Spells:[/b] None

[b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://www.psycko-manga.de/gallery/babe/47-9.htm]Mi?irilka[/url] (Minus the wings)
[b]Personality:[/b] Mi?irilka is a quiet girl, but smart, and sweet. She is very shy around people she does not know, but is firm to patients and is often scary to them. She does not stand out in a crowd, except for her status as a healer.

[b]Excerpt of Character:[/b] Mi?irilka sat on a cot in the healing house, carefully binding her patients arm. For days, she had been tending to it. On the first day, he had come in, delirious with pain, and she had seen why. His arm had a deep, long gash that started at his shoulder and stopped just past the elbow. His two fellows had helped him in carefully, both with pale, taunt faces. As the healer wrapped the gauze around his arm one last time, she lowered her head and said a quiet prayer to her Goddess.

The adolescent boy, K?lior, winced as she pinned the gauze down. His wound was still sore, though the flesh had begun to closed. Mi?irilka thought him lucky; any later and it would have gotten infected. The story they had given him was a stray had attacked them. The healer knew better. Still, Mi?irilka let them believe what they would, as long as they did not fight her healing.

?[b]Lady Mi?irilka?[/b]?

The healer looked up, and then nodded her head. She turned back to K?lior. ?[b]Go get some rest.[/b]? The boy stood, and went through a door too the back of the cottage. Soon Mi?irilka and the newcomer were alone. The healer stood.

?[b]What is it?[/b]?

The messenger handed her a small envelope, and then disappeared from the cottage. Mi?irilka sat down on the cot, and opened the letter. Her eyes scanned the paper.

[I]To the Lady Mi?irilka:

Mother, we need a healer desperately. Lyon has been hurt fatally, as have many others. Our healer was taken in the ambush. We need you. Come to Avian?s Pass.

Dion.[/I]

Mi?irilka closed her eyes against tears. She knew what her son had not said. Dion was also injured; probably worse than his companions were. Mi?irilka stood, and called for the other healers. A few came in from the gardens, a few more from the store rooms of the healing house. She explained the situation to them, and then left. In a mere hour, she was packed, and saddling her horse, a bay named Siofra. She strapped the bundles o the horse, and then mounted. She turned to look at her small cottage, with the hardy winter plants in the garden, and the smoke rising from the chimney. Her husband stood in the door way, and their eyes met briefly.

With a whinny, the bay turned. Mi?irilka did not look back. Siofra galloped through the snow-covered forest, and the pair made for the Pass.

All right, I think I?m done. ^_^ [/size]

[Citrus]

[FONT=Verdana][SIZE=1][COLOR=Green]Name: Chim-Cham Kok?ii

Age: 27

Gender: Female

Race: Meram

Occupation: None at the moment

Position: Messenger

Weapon: A fan. [url]http://www.kongming.net/dw3/i/fifth/zhugeliang.jpg[/url]

Spells: N/A

Appearance:

Personality: Chim-Cham is a very patient and mysterious young woman. She is very intelligent and always has the brightest ideas when it comes to tactics; this is why she was picked to be the tactic manager. Never actually being mean or rude to anyone Chim-Cham was always been the quiet and nice one. No one ever trying to insult her because they knew it would just be a waste of time.

Always having her fan covering her face or fanning herself this made her very mysterious. This did not just only make her mysterious, it made her attractive. Many men fall for her easily but she thinks they are just acting silly. Never actually having a real relationship she has been hopefully seeking one.

Excerpt of Character: CC walked down the long ornate hallway her feet making an echoing sound. She quickly took a glance outside the window and then once again looking straight forward. As she approached to large oak doors she halted. CC pushed one of the doors open and entered the very large library, she was the only there as she looked around. She brought the fan up to her face and walked toward the map section.

She slowly took some territorial maps from the shelf and gently lay them on the table. As she slowly unrolled them and spread the out she took a seat and looked at them and studied for a couple of minutes. CC measured the distance from the library to the center of the city and graphed it on a separate map paper being very precise. As soon as she was done she held both maps up to compare them, ?Hmm. The one I have re-drew seems to be more easy to read, but then the older version could be better because the townspeople are more adapted to seeing this one??

There she sat for a very long time wondering which one to pick. As the time went by CC had decided that she would print off 1,000 copies of each and just use them both. As she walked with her fan attached to her belt hidden in her robe she held the two maps under her right arm walking over to the printing press room. Once she entered she could see there were two other women also printing some documents. They looked up at her and then back down back down at what they were doing.

CC made her way toward a printing station and began to print the maps. She took a sigh and held back a complaint; this process was long and tedious. Especially if you have to make more than one copy of something. About two hours later CC had finished her prints; she loaded them into her basket and walked out of the library with them. The smell of fish filled the air as CC walked into the city, after all they did live right next to the water.
And so CC walked down the bustling sidewalk down to the big building that seemed to be the city hall.

CC walked into to the very ornate structure and placed the basket on top of the front desk. The woman looked at CC and asked, ?What are these?? as she rummaged through all the maps. ?The king wanted a few new maps for the new center of the city. Say CC made them for him? she walked off with her fan fanning herself. The woman looked at her confused and then at the maps.

CC once again walked into the sunlight and took in another deep breath, ?Ah! I love my city?.? CC got a sudden flashback that will always stay in her mind for the rest of her life.

-Flashback-

The sound of blades clashing against armor filled the air as the heated battle raged on. CC swapped at the men that came running at her with her fan. She chuckled and bent over a fallen solider ?Humph! So pathetic?? she kicked the mans face and blood ran onto the golden sand.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT]


OOC: I will finish this later.

[Cyriel]

[COLOR=DimGray][SIZE=1][CENTER][B]Name:[/B] Xirae Ixetir
[B]Age:[/B] 27
[B]Gender:[/B] Female
[B]Race:[/B] Yarou
[B]Occupation:[/B] Soldier
[B]Position:[/B] Yarou soldier assigned to serve under Luc Fallan, General of the Meram Army.

[B]Weapon:[/B] [I][U]Lupe[/U][/I] ? a sword made out of the vertebrae from the spinal cord of a Teakch, with a horn of the Teakch attached at both the end of the blade, as well as the handle. Every single small edge is glisteningly sharp, and every little piece of protruding bone acts like a hook as it tears and rips into flesh. It is an excruciating way to die. This sword has been constructed in such a way that each vertebrae in the sword locks together into an unbreakable blade; however, if gripped differently, the vertebrae will latch together in a different manner that lengthens the reach of [I]Lupe[/I], as well as making it extremely flexible ? in short, it can be transformed into a bone whip. Xirae has mastered [I]Lupe[/I], and uses it with a devastating and fatal effect.

[B]Appearance:[/B] 1st attachment: Xirae in the Realm of the Dead; 2nd: Xirae in the Realm of the Living

[B]Personality:[/B] Quite the elitist, Xirae has an unhidden distaste and contempt for those of the Realm of the Living. She has no qualms on the field of battle, for she knows already what lies beyond in the Realm of the Dead. Wielding her uniquely lethal weapon, [I]Lupe[/I], she inspires fear and dread in the hearts of mortals and demons alike. In fact, Xirae reminds one of Nemesis, the angel of death, as she seemingly flies through the gore and blood, with a look of pure bliss on her face as the spirits of Teakchs shred skin and bone with her [I]Lupe[/I]. Xirae mirrors that exactly: she has the ability to exude that same raw power as the dragons she commanded in the Realm of the Dead. She has somewhat of a forced, grudging respect for Luc Fallan, as General Ambika has ordered Xirae to remain under his command in the campaign to defeat the Malroy.[/CENTER][/COLOR]

[SIZE=1][B]Excerpt:[/B][COLOR=DarkSlateBlue]
The air was quiet. Not stagnant, but quiet. Except for the buzzing of insects that drifted over the muddy waters, nothing else could be heard. The heat was oppressive, and it was then that Xirae realized that she despised the necessity to breathe. The heavy, humid air made her lungs feel as if they were collecting water, drop by drop suffocating her necessary air channels.

Yes, it was aggravating ? no, it was [I]demeaning[/I] ? to be here. In this swamp, where she was not only required to breathe again, but also sweat, toil, and feel the weaknesses of her body become apparent. It had been a long time since she had felt these things. It had been a long time since she had forgotten these things, and now she had been forced to remember them again.

[I]Had it been like this?[/I] Yes, she [I]remembered[/I]. The heat, and the water pooling around her calves and ankles, with mud squelching between her toes. She had struggled through the swamp, her clothes caked with the foul-smelling mud, her face unrecognizable under the layers of dirt and sweat. And somewhere, in the middle of it all, she had come to a small oasis, a little island of dry land. She had collapsed under a stunted tree, her tears dried by the merciless sun that burned her blistered skin.

And there, alone, in the middle of a mortal hell, she heaved and panted, her swollen belly aching with contractions and lightning strikes of pain. Yes, it was in a place like this that she had given birth. The baby was blackened and rotten, long dead within her wounded womb. She was glad that it had died; she didn?t want it, and felt nothing for it. It stank to high heaven, but still, the pitiful sight brought tears to her eyes. She hated the pain of it, of looking at it, and had tossed it into the muddy waters, where it had sank and disappeared. But still?the pain would not go away. It was not until she had allowed her hate to well up, to coil around her and fester and burn away the pain. And she had blissfully forgotten?or at least allowed herself to think that.

Now that she was here, Xirae remembered it. This place was not the same place; this swamp was not the same swamp; this time was not the same time; and this woman was not the same girl. But it was the same dark memory that came to the surface. Too many memories, and too many other dark things that lay under the waters, rotting in the mud, being eaten alive by the parasites and bacteria and other rank things that somehow existed in this putrid place. It was time to leave.

Two hours passed, and it was then that she reached higher ground. As she started up the hills that led to the rolling plains, Xirae turned to look back. Up here, it was not visible what lay under the gray and the dusty green. As she turned away, puffs of a breeze slowly lifted strands of her hair, erasing the threads of sweat and dust. But here, there was no difference.

She still [B]hated[/B] to breathe.[/SIZE][/COLOR][/SIZE]

[Kairi]

[CENTER][COLOR=DarkSlateGray][SIZE=1]Name: Yuri Rein
Age: 25
Gender: male
Race: Malroy
Occupation: Alchemist
Position: General of Malroy army

Weapon: [URL=http://www.by-the-sword.com/acatalog/images/1-030.jpg]Evil's Bane[/URL]
The blade itself is 33 inches long giving a total length of 47 making it a very long weapon. Built in brace bolsters and pommel give the sword tremendous balance to its weilder, especially due to its length. Weilded by the General who preceeded him, his father, this sword has protected the Malroy people for centuries.

On his hands Yuri also wears metallic/silver claws which wrap around his finger, protecting the top of his hand and stretch to just below the elbow; held in place by a leather strap on his forearm which can easily be taken on and off.

Spells:
Shall I put potion mixtures here?

Appearance:
Standing at about 5'10'', Yuri isn't one of the largest soldiers, but his body certainly shows muscles tone from countless years of training with his father. With silky dark brown hair and brown eyes with almost look black, you wouldn't take him for a soldier either...always having a peaceful expression upon his face. Choosing to wear outside the usual attire of the Malroy soldier, Yuri wears a sleeveless brown trench which he wears unbottoned, exposing his chest and stomach due to the weather of the desert plains. Wearing black pants and boots, upon his shoulders he wears two silver plates of armor, signifying his position as general, and his family name. Apart from that, Yuri has a silver earring in his left ear and a silver chain rapping around his neck with his fathers blade strapped to his back.

Personality:
Yuri has a very bright, intellegent mind, especially for his age. Continuing to master his skills in swordmanship and alchemy, he is very disciplined and firm in his teachings and convictions showing no signs of fear nor weakness...in battle, he is truly in his element. You will rarely see him get over emotional in a given situation...with his comrades he's more of a friend than a commander, constantly being friendly and open with them all. With the leadership qualities of his father, he's very open-minded, constantly continue to learn and gain experiance and knowledge of the world around him. Confident in himself and his abilities, he doesn't come off as cocky; but rather very independent and straightforward.

Excert of Character:
[I][COLOR=Black]It's been one year since that night...it seemed that the sky ran red with blood when I came home. The smell of rotting flesh upon the sands of the dessert, I was but a young man then; new in my fantasy and exploration of the world that surrounded me. My skills in the ancient art of alchemy had been tuned greatly due to my travels in the desert...becoming one with the elements...father insisted that I go.

But, when I returned...the truth was revieled to me as I approached the city. I had been gone for nearly a year when the sword of my father was given to me. He wouldn't have wanted me to cry, so I kept my thoughts to myself. Taking over the head of my house, I was offered the rank of General; to take my fathers place at the head of the army. Under the keen eye of the mages...I gained the love and respect of my fellow comrades.

It wasn't easy, for I was new to the life of war...the preperation, the strategic implications; but they were patient with me...and they all were willing to teach me all that I needed to know. My mind absorded everything that passed through my ears and eyes as I learned.

It's been one year since that night...the night I barried my father. Things are now in order...this new day will definitly hold importance to me and Malroy. But something ponders me...[/COLOR][/I]

"What are you doing up there...writting in that damn journal of yours?!" cried out Zakariah, one of the first soldiers to take a liking to the new general, despite his age.

Without turning his attention away from the pages of his small journal, Yuri closed the cover and stared up into the night sky, taking in a deep intake of the cool gentle breeze blowing over the city wall.

Bringing his gaze down to look over the dessert horizon before him, he felt his spirit leave from him as its craving to be outside the city walls grew within him once again, his desire for adventure...to once again venture off into the unknown.

"Commander Yuri...did you hear me?!" yelled out Zakariah once again.

A slight grin appeared on Yuri's face as he pushed himself off the top of the city wall and fell to the ground before the soldier.

"Yes Zakariah, I did hear you..." as he placed his journal into his trench coat pocket...placing a arm around Zakariah's shoulder..."what is it that I can do for you?"
[/SIZE][/COLOR][/CENTER]

[Ezekiel]

[SIZE=1]Everyone, your sign ups are wonderful but I'm afraid that I'm cancelling the RPG. I'm feeling above and beyond strange at this point in time and I have a feeling it isn't going to pass quickly.

I'm sorry, you all really worked hard on these sign ups and I do hope to start this RP up eventually. [/SIZE]