The Stables! No, not like sanity, like horses.

[vamptai]

Name: Bandon Ineyl
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Elemental Signs: Water/Earth [Soil] (Back of right hand/tongue)
Home Nation: No permanent home, but his homeland is/was Anarlina.
Date of Birth: The 3rd of Sade, Year 992.
Favored Force: Thuoth
Personal Notes and Quirks: Bandon can create a temporary layer of stone over his skin, but he doesn't have gills. He has an allergy to pollen, and a pretty good sense of smell (nowhere near that of a one-sign Beast). He hires out his services as a "purveyor of information", or, in layman's terms, a spy. His most coveted possession is a remarkably realistic glass eye that he sometimes wears. He always speaks in a hoarse voice not much louder than a whisper; whether physical or psychological, the cause is unknown.
Clothing: Bandon usually wears a simple brown shirt and pair of trousers underneath a brown coat. He has a thing for earth colors.
Weapon: Dagger
Appearance:
Bandon has (a) blue eye(s) and unkempt black hair that falls just below his earlobes. He's paler and a bit shorter than average. On the right side of his face, a livid scar runs from his brow down to just below the corner of his mouth. Across his right eye-socket, almost always, is a brown leather eye patch.
He is a very thin build, with his priorities directed towards flexibility and speed instead of endurance and strength.

Occupation: Mercenary (Ilyamen Branch)

History: Born from a group of nomads on the continent Contrasta who were passing through a village on the Anarlinian side of the Anarlina/Morilanta border, it is unknown why his parents decided not to keep him; maybe he was born out of wedlock, or maybe because they wouldn't be able to care for him out in the open. Or perhaps it was because the group of nomads were extremely close-minded, and he had mixed signs. Regardless of the reason, Bandon's entry into the world was not a very grandiose one. One day, the nomads had wandered into the village for trade and supplies; the next, they were gone, leaving nothing but a baby wrapped in a blanket.

Bandon, despite being taken in by a caring couple who had no children of their own, found it very difficult growing up in their society. At that young age children tend to form cliques, and he was the odd duck in the group. He was reminded, daily, that he was the son of wanderers too poor to settle anywhere, worth less than the dirt and filth that covered him whenever they had finished teaching him his lesson. And every day his foster parents told him that all of it would pass, that children could be cruel, and that they just didn't understand where he came from. Their words couldn't erase what the children had done to him, but they helped to calm him down every time he came home.

As he grew older, he realized the plight of his family: he knew that his parents had always settled for a modest home, but with the help of insight that could only be developed through age, he understood what it meant when his father lost his job. Less and less money was coming into the household, and they had to hold on desperately to every copper bit they were afforded. Unable to deal with how wrong this was, Bandon decided to find a trade for himself. And that he did, although not one his parents would have approved of; he confided in them that he was the apprentice of a local scholar, but instead when the sun sank beneath the horizon, he stole into the lodgings of the merchants and well-to-do people to scrimp money off of the top of their coffers. Never enough to be noticed, just enough to get by. And so this went on for some time, the little self-made thief helping out his parents in secret.

One night though, all of this ended. Despite all the dirt that the children had laden him with in his youth, there was a gaping hole in Bandon's immune system: an allergy to pollen. This had never troubled him before as it wasn't a terrible discomfort, but it was his supreme misfortune to pick the wrong house to pilfer on this particular night, smack dap in the middle of Spring.

The whole thing would have gone off without a hitch, save for the fact that this particular wealthy couple liked to keep their bedside window open at night. While his hand was stealthily retrieving coppers from the stash, a sudden breeze came through the window, carrying with it a thin blanketing of pollen. For a moment Bandon disregarded the pollen, but as his nose began to itch his free hand shot up to his nose, clenching it shut and screwing his face tight together, as if he might block the sneeze threatening to escape. None of that did any good whatsoever, and he sneezed.

The couple awoke, and as the wife lit a candle and Bandon spun around to make his escape, the man reached out and took a firm grasp of the youth's upper arm. Jostled, a handful of copper coins fell out of the pouch he kept strapped to his waist. Caught red-handed. There was no way at all that anything good could come from this.

Bandon, due to either the intensity of the violence of that night or from an effort to forget it, doesn't remember much from that night. He remembers that the man beat him mercilessly and tirelessly for what seemed like hours, sometimes with something in his hand, and other times with just his fist. Eventually the man paused, breathing heavily as he pinned Bandon to the floor. Turning to his wife, he told her to fetch his knife. Wide-eyed, Bandon watched as the woman handed the man a hunting knife. The man stared down at him, looking him in the eyes as he talked. "You stole from me, boy. Stole something that I worked hard for! I don't tolerate that, least of all in my own home. So I'm going to steal something from you. Something you're going to miss." Bandon squirmed under the man's weight, but he couldn't find the strength to free himself. Instead, he could do nothing but watch as the knife came down, closer and closer to his face. And he screamed and screamed, until long after it was over.

A long while after, the wealthy merchant couple dragged him out into the streets; there was quite a crowd gathered outside, for they had been woken up by Bandon's screaming. Bandon's foster parents, who had found Bandon missing after being awaken, were at the forefront of the crowd. The merchant man shoved Bandon to the ground in front of them, crossing his arms as he spoke condescendingly to them. "I found your little vagabond here stealing copper from me. I have dealt with the situation accordingly, so I don't think there is any need to seek justice any further...he won't do it again, and if he does, I'll see to it that he rots in a cell so inhospitable, that only the flies, rats, and wind will keep him company."

There is silence. All that can be heard is the very faint sobbing from Bandon on the ground, his voice hoarse. Bruises have cropped up all over his body and he has both hands clasped firmly on the right side of his face. Thin trails of red run over his fingers. His foster father, a strong man, picked him up and cradled him as the merchant man turned to go back into his house. The man had chuckled darkly as he gripped his door. "You should get that eye of his checked." His door slammed shut, and again, there is nothing but silence in the crowd. Slowly, the people began to disperse; some looked at Bandon's shivering form with a hint of pity, but others regarded him with a scornful glare. After all the others had returned to their beds, Bandon's foster parents quickly carried him away.

A couple of days later, Bandon lay in his bad at home, the left side of his face streaked with tears. The right side of his face was covered in bandages, and though one wouldn't be able to tell how badly he had been maimed, it was easy to note that the area where his right eye should be was naught but an empty hole.

He had alienated himself further from his adoptive people, he had gotten himself disfigured, and he had disgraced his foster parents. Gathering some clothes and only a meager amount of supplies and food, he slipped out of his window that night and set off from the village. Where he was going, he had no idea - only that he couldn't stay there. He had no time left to even leave a note for his foster parents. For a time, he continued his work as a thief. Eventually, however, he decided that he'd be better suited as a spy - though he still gets the urge, every now and then, to lighten a heavy pocket.

Some of Bandon's favorite disguises:

The Drifter - Can be used with the eyepatch or without, with his scar showing or with it covered up. Bandon dirties up his hair and face, and he wears faded, torn, ragged clothing. Mumbling to himself is optional. Mainly used to extract information from a crowded area, where one doesn't see him as a threat. Bandon also sometimes produces a believable limp with this.

The Gentleman - Little needs to be changed for this disguise. Bandon wears his glass eye and hides his scar with skin-toned dirt, which does quite well in blending with his pale skin. He may also run dust through his hair, to give the appearance that he's starting to go gray. If he does run dust through his hair, he also uses a thin brush and some ink to draw slight wrinkles on his face, the kind that one gets when settling into old age at a comfortable pace. He's polite, likes to tell stories, and has the tone of voice that a grandfather might have when talking to his grandchildren.

The Noble - This can be done with Bandon's regular clothes, but if being used at a function (which is mainly where it serves it's purpose), he has to substitute in higher-quality threads He wears his glass eye, and his scar is covered up by skin-toned dirt. He uses a powder made from sand and dried river mud to temporarily color his hair, giving it a brownish/light brown color. He draws his lips thin or wears a smile, depending on what company he's in. He stands straight up and has good posture, and his walk is slow and affected, like he has purpose in what he does.

More to come soon? Maybe, why not.

[vamptai]

(This post is mainly a placeholder; it'll be more fleshed out when I decide to start using this character.)

Name: Ioda Yahran
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Elemental Signs: Beast x2 [Turtle] (Underside of left forearm/Front of left thigh)
Home Nation: Roaming, homeland is the Beastlands.
Date of Birth: 4th of Nuo, Year 989
Family: Mother (1x Sign Beast, Seere Clan), Father (1x Sign Beast, Seere Clan)
Favored Force: Worg
Personal Notes and Quirks: Ioda is weird, and he likes it that way. For the longest time, his mother kept his head devoid of all hair. Why? Because "it's unnatural for a turtle to have hair." After leaving home, he's let it grow out - not because he particularly likes it, but because he also thinks it accentuates his weirdness. Across his front, from his clavicle down to his hip, is the front of his shell - more supple and softer than the shell, but still thick enough to somewhat deter a dagger. The shell on his back is large, the tip starting at mid-neck and the bottom ends where the tailbone begins. It's a dark green, almost obsidian, and there are brown flecks strewn all about it, as if someone brushed clay onto it and didn't finish cleaning it off.
Ioda considers himself a part of the Seere clan like his parents, although he hasn't been back to visit them in quite some time.
He's also an old friend of Bandon's. The two met in New Anarlina, and Ioda considers Bandon to be somewhat like a younger brother to him. He jokes about with Bandon often, but he's very protective of him.
While he's very adventurous, he's also very cautious. He's not above retreating when he knows the situation isn't going to turn out well for him. A good deal of planning goes into what he does, actually; his parents used to refer to him as "the tortoise that beat the hare", but he's quick to remind them that he isn't that patient. If he switched roles with the turtle in the fable, he probably would have chucked a rock at the hare's head.
Clothing: A custom-fitted shirt that is open in the back, so as to accomodate his shell. Greens make up his wardrobe. He sometimes wears gloves (although not leather, of course). He also has a large brown cloak that can cover his shell, if he has cause to hide it.
Weapon: Talwar (A curved sword with a pointed tip and a single-edged blade, along with a disc hilt and hand guard. Similar to a European saber.)
Appearance:
Ioda has medium-length copper-colored hair that he keeps cut fairly short in the back. Aside from having a shell, his beast signs also mean that he has a green tint to his skin, as if he's always nauseous. The only kind of jewelry he wears is a single gold hoop on his left ear.

History: Despite having a quiet and complacent life at home, Ioda still couldn't force himself to do "busywork", as he thought of it. He had the itch to travel, to see the world, and to make his living as a guard, mercenary, or something of the like. Because he's a jovial kind of guy, he's lucky in the fact that he doesn't seem to attract a lot of enemies. That will probably change, however, once he finds a source of steady income.

[vamptai]

(Placeholder, just like the above.)

Name: Nadyn Seold
Gender: Female
Age: 24
Elemental Signs: Wind (Left temple)
Home Nation: Roaming, homeland is/was Anarlina.
Date of Birth: 13th of Isolde, Year 987
Favored Force: Etaf
Personal Notes and Quirks: Despite being an empathetic person, Nadyn has an incredible temper comparable to that of many hot-blooded Fires. She's a very competitive person, always trying to better herself and prove herself. She also appears to have several mental illnesses, listed below:
Schizotypal personality disorder - Nadyn feels an underlying instinct, always, to lock herself away from others. This also gives rise to odd behavior, beliefs, and thinking that are often exacerbated by her other illnesses.
Obsessive-compulsive personality disorder - Self-explanatory. Sometimes, for no perceivable reason, Nadyn will get the feeling that something is "not right". She treats this by striving for perfection, obsessing over rules, and lauding organization. It's not uncommon for her to pause in doing something, only to repeat her actions again and again in an attempt to correct some mistake that only she can notice.
Dissociative identity disorder - And finally, dissociative identity disorder. Many times, schizophrenia is mistakenly confused this this disorder. This is a condition in which a person displays, or creates, multiple distinct identities or personalities. Along with an identity taking control of the person's actions, there is an associated memory loss. Nadyn often remembers nothing of what she's done as another personality.

For the most part, Nadyn manages to live a normal life. The symptoms of these disorders get worse when she's under more stress.
Of course, since psychology isn't developed all that much in Naruta, it's general consensus that she's just liable to lapse into insanity every now and then.
Clothing: Nadyn likes to wear loose-fitting pastels, with slits cut in the back of the tops to allow her wings freedom to move. Nadyn also loves to wear gloves. As for why? It's easier to just remove the gloves for delicate work and eating, rather than washing her hands all the time.
Weapon: Bow and arrow (A rather prized composite bow that has, quite honestly, seen better days.)
Appearance:
Nadyn's wings are a bit smaller than average, and they're mainly a storm cloud gray with bits of pepper flecks everywhere.
She has long strawberry-blond hair that she keeps up in a very tight bun; she's not so strict with the front end, but she does keep her bangs trimmed fairly short.

History: Nadyn was an extremely naive and curiosity-driven child. Abandoned by the same nomadic group that abandoned Bandon, Nadyn got the better part of the deal on the circumstances of her childhood. Whereas Bandon was left in a village along the Anarlinan/Morilantan border, Nadyn was left in a village much closer to the old capital of Anarlina. Instead of being taken in by a foster family, Nadyn was raised by the members of the Church of Love. And a good childhood it was; she had much fun with the children her age and grew into a decent young girl.
However, for one reason or another, she didn't seem to hold the same devotion to Love as her peers did, and as her mental disorders began to surface, she realized that she probably wouldn't be happy as a priest in the employ of the Church. As soon as she came of age, Nadyn bid farewell to her friends and adoptive family and set out in search of herself (as lame as that sounds).
After asking around in neighboring villages (before the sinking of Contrasta), she learned of the nomadic group's past dealings. She learned that in her lifetime, she wasn't the only baby abandoned by them; they had also left a small Earth/Water boy at a village along the border. She managed to track down the village and was more than a bit horrified at the tale of what happened to him. After learning that he had fled, she considered it her duty to find him - after all, he could be a long-lost brother! Or half-brother! Or hell, even if he wasn't related by blood, he was related by circumstances...

Other Personalities:

Idonon Tariel (The Saint) - A very prim-and-proper female personality. Gives off an air of one too caught up in formalities to see the big picture. Her morality is fairly normal; she sees the world in shades of gray. Dislikes physical activity and violence.

Tugil (The Devil)[/i] - A male personality, one who relishes fighting and bloodshed. While not entirely evil, Tugil is out for himself, and no one else. If he can manipulate you, he will, and he won't have any qualms about it. He delights in other people's misfortunes, though he's become very adept at hiding this.

Sonia Eliam (The Temptress)[/i] - An androgynous personality; Sonia's gender role is decided by whomever he/she is wanting at the time. A sultry seductress, Sonia uses all of his/her (feminine?) wiles on whoever happens to fall under his/her disdainful eye at the time. This personality is the rarest to surface. Sonia also shows signs of distaste for children.

[vamptai]

Name: Ardbele Morray
Gender: Male
Age: 41
Elemental Signs: Beast x2 [Spider] (Stomach, right above his navel/Right hip)
Home Nation: No permanent home, but his homeland was Contrasta.
Date of Birth: The 11th of Aueril, Year 970.
Favored Force: None
Personal Notes and Quirks: A hero complex. A manipulative liar. Ardbele is cursed with a very strong sense of pride for his old country of Contrasta; seeing as Contrasta now lies beneath the waves, much of this feeling has translated over to Naruta. Touching as his patriotism is, he is continually fighting back bile at the very thought that his country is being "defiled by the likes of mixed-signers". He believes, in his twisted mind, that the Forces have tasked him with 'cleaning up the gene pool', so to speak. And to top it all off, Arbele is a very gracious liar. Lies slip past his lips as often as drinks slip past those of a man down on his luck. He sees no problem in manipulating people for his own purposes, though he tries to be careful not to let them grow suspicious. He's a man who keeps his cards close to his chest.
He also knits and sews, but if anyone outside of a few trusted people were to know this, he would torture them in a way most foul.
What his affinity means for him: While there is a vegetarian species of spider, all of the others are notorious predators; most of them detect prey by sensing vibrations, but the active hunters have acute vision, and the hunters of a particular genus (Portia) show marked intelligence in their tactics and the ability to develop new ones. Spiders have to liquidize their food with digestive enzymes and grind it down before ingesting it. In art and mythology, the spider often symbolizes various combinations of patience, cruelty, and creative powers.
Ardbele is a cunning adversary. While he doesn't weave webs in the (very) literal sense, he delights in doing so in the metaphorical. When he's chasing after someone, he often finds himself thinking that it's a game - a game that he stands no chance of losing, but a game nonetheless. While he is a very brutal and righteous man, he understands the virtue of patience: namely, sitting back and watching how things turn out. When conversing with Ardbele, it's not uncommon to get the sense that he's not really paying attention. For the most part, he probably isn't - he delights in thinking up ways to incapacitate and kill people who cross him.
Ardbele's spit is more corrosive than normal (if, say, left undisturbed on a person for half an hour, they would start to feel a burning sensation).
Clothing: Ardbele wears loose-fitted pants and shirts, and usually a cloak over that. He usually wears dark earthy tones, to more easily blend in with surroundings out in the open.
Weapon: 2 War Hammers (He occassionally has a spare lying in wait, but he obviously can't use more than 2 at once.)
Appearance:
Thankfully, his dual-beast sign affinity did NOT leave him with multiple eyes. That would be just downright freaky.
Ardbele is a dark-skinned man, cooked under the sun that he travels beneath and cooled under the moon that he rests beneath. His eyes are a light-blue, and his hair is a curious color, somewhere in-between blonde and gray. The skin around his face is taut, and he has more than a few lines around his eyes. His mouth and everything in it is, for the most part, normal, save for the corrosive spit and the sharpened canines. (Ardbele often had sores in his mouth as a child, because it took him a while to get used to them.) He is a toned build; muscular, yet lean, and considerably tall. Estimates are at around 6'1", 6'2", but no one knows for certain because the damn guy almost never stands completely upright. He's almost perpetually hunched over with the cloak draping over him, although he still towers over most people.

History: There existed on Contrasta, before she sank, a wandering group of nomads who traveled from village to village in-between Anarlina and Morlianta. At this point in time, no one remembers how this tribe of wanderers came to be; however, knowledge is always to be found if one knows where to look: the beginnings of the tribe were with lowly thiefs, vagabonds, orphans, the dregs of society, who gathered together in hopes to find solace in each other.

Ardbele was born into this group of nomads on the continent of Contrasta, and life with his tribe was harsh on him as a child. He found it hard to adjust to life out in the open, and early on into his 5th year, he nearly died due to exposure. Previously, he had been a very sick child, and the tribe worried that this would be his death, only just a child, with no rhyme or reason. For six days and six nights, the tribe camped out near a village that would harbor them with no ill will, waiting for Ardbele's fever to break. And for 6 days and 6 nights, they watched over him with baited breaths, not daring to break the silence around his bed. On the seventh day, they awoke to find that his fever had broken; after a few days of resting, one of the tribe members discovered that Ardbele had gained a second Beast sign on his right hip.

Ardbele entered his teens as a tall, lanky boy, with gangly arms and only enough fat on him to keep him from blowing away in the wind. He developed a fiery temper and a loathing for the others that he didn't know the cause of; he fought repeatedly with some of the others and the young like him, and although he was built like a twig, he later matured into a strong, lean young man, and a growth spurt put him over 6 feet. One night, as he lay on the ground with his hands interlaced behind his head, he began to lose himself in the stars above. He quickly drifted off into sleep, where he dreamed that he was told his destiny: to eradicate the land of mixed-signers, whom he had come to believe were the cause for all the suffering in the world. He didn't question this dream, and instead perceived it to be a vision from the Forces.

Within the next year, Ardbele had made his way to the top position in the tribe, tribal leader, and he slowly began to indoctrinate the rest of his 'family' into his way of thinking. It took time and coercing, but eventually, his flock began to see sense in what he was saying. Aside from a few dissenters who meekly offer "but what if"s, all of the nomadic tribe now bare a loathing for mixed-signers.

Over the years, many children were born from within the tribe; most of these were "pure-signed', as were the members of the tribe. However, every so often, a mixed-signer would be born. Nearly all of the children were abandoned or slaughtered shortly after birth, regardless of 'purity' or the lack thereof; a few were snuck into nearby villages and towns to leave them in the hands of people who would be willing to care for them. Bandon and Nadyn were two of the lucky ones.

Eventually, Contrasta sank, and feeling remorse for the loss of his homeland, Ardbele led the tribe off of the doomed continent and into the land of Naruta. Since then he has kept a low profile, only venturing into markets every once in a while to provide for his tribe, if they were in need. Very soon, however, Ardbele feels that he must take on his sacred duty and begin the cleansing of the mixed-signers; how he'll set about doing that, though, is still a mystery to him. He's settled for scoping out his new homeland while he tries to plan out his mission.

He's also a man who's been spurned in the past. He doesn't love easily, and he's wanted to be close to very few women. One of these returned his feelings for a while; he had the tribe camp outside her village for weeks as he spent time with her. Eventually, however, he learned that she was seeing another man behind his back. A mixed-signer. This didn't particularly deepen his hatred for them, but it certainly didn't help any. Within the next couple of days, the tribe had moved on, and the other man was never seen again. There were rumors in the village, of course, but no one persued them; none of them wanted to accuse Ardbele.

[vamptai]

Name: Dimitri Unschuld
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Elemental Signs: Water/Wind (Left palm/right palm)
Home Nation: Birth nation unknown, home nation is Talen'sul.
Date of Birth: 19th of Sade, Year 980.
Family: Unknown
Favored Force: While Dimitri is religious, he doesn't favor any force over any other.
Personal Notes and Quirks: The veritable epitome of the 'free spirit', Dimitri is a man who is very laid-back. Despite being friendly, jovial and altogether out-going, Dimitri has...problems with his memory. This all stems from a scar on his right temple. Unfortunately, because of it, he cannot remember anything from his early life, or why he even has the scar. In fact, the only reason why he knows his name is because of a piece of paper that was stuffed into his pocket upon his first known consciousness. The piece of paper was, oddly enough, a misspelled and scrawled birthday card, written in varying colors, addressed to him. This is also how he figured out his age.
He also has a rather odd sleeping habit. He finds it incredibly hard to sleep without something covering his eyes, so he usually carries a piece of cloth in his pocket
While Dimitri is not trained in any weapon, he makes it a point to regularly exercise and train with his signs. He's pretty rigorous, and if you catch him while he's training, you'll find that he's stoic and stern; a complete 180 from his usual personality..
Clothing: A loose-fitting shirt and a fairly simple pair of trousers, and a cloak if he has to go wandering around. He likes blues and greens.
Weapon: None. For the most part, Dimitri abhors violence, and only trains himself, in the minimalist sense, in self-defense.
Appearance:
Dimitri has thick, black hair which hangs past his ears, and he likes to keep it clean, if not combed. His olive-green eyes usually have a sort of spark in them that both invites and encourages happiness. On his right temple, from the top of his forehead down towards his ear, is a thin scar. He wears glasses when working in his trade, but his vision is perfectly normal, so he usually has them dangling from a cord around his neck.
Dimitri has a very average physique; he exercises often, but he does it for health reasons, rather than for strength. He has a little bit of muscle definition, but not nearly enough to impress someone.

Occupation: Bookbinder, Illuminator, Writer, "book doctor".

History: Dimitri came to in the forest, blood running freely from a gash in his head. He had no idea who he was, where he was, or what had happened to him. He stumbled around in the forest for 2 days, lost and confused, before he collaped on a beaten path and was discovered by a traveling merchant. The merchant brought Dimitri to the nearest inn, where the man could rest and get proper care.

Despite the wound in his head healing up very nicely, Dimitri's memories have yet to return to him. All he had on his person, aside from his clothes, was a birthday card stuffed into his pocket. It looks to be written by a young child, in scrawling letters and various colors, addressed to a man named "Dimitri". The author of the card signed their name, but the letters are smeared and faded; nothing can be clearly made out of them.

Left with nothing, Dimitri decided to seek out a new home, a place where he could spend the rest of his days doing something he liked. He tries to keep his thoughts away from the life he had left behind, and his curiosity over the letter; it would be impossible to figure out his mystery, he posited.