SETTING: This takes place in the year cycle 1274 in month of Varethra, set on the continent Velkin. Set in the Age of Kingdoms.

CHARACTERS: • Aelithra Vanyarin: A 417-year-old elven princess with long golden hair and luminous amber eyes. Wise, serene, and empathetic, she carries the weight of centuries and lost kin. Class: Cleric/Archer Faction/Order: House Vanyrion Height: 5'4 Languages: Elvish, Common Tongue, Dramascis Speech: Soft, melodic, and measured; conveys authority without force. Behavior: Moves with quiet grace and poise. Often observed pausing to consider the consequences of her companions’ actions or comforting those in distress. History: Once the first princess of Elmar, she left her place in the Rimerian Dominion to find her banished friend Calmerion. But she had instead journeyed across Velkin once she met the party members and became too attached, aiding the innocent and reclaiming ancient relics. After three years of traveling with them, they all dispersed and she went back to searching for Calmerion once more only to find him four years later dying at the hand of vampiric slavers. And in her sorrow, the party found her again and so determined to find a different fate, she went with the party on the quest. LIKES: Moonlit glades, Rimerian forests, blooming nightflowers, birds, stags, exploring ancient ruins, long walks, tales of heroism and valor, small acts of kindness, the beauty of art and music, her bow, calmerion, meditative moments of reflection, her party, Tavric, learning more about the world outside of her kingdom, missing her family especially her younger brother Aethor (a 198-year old half-elf) DISLIKES: Cruelty, needless bloodshed, loud chaotic crowds, arrogance, injustice of the High Elven Council, oppressive heat, betrayal, lies, the pain of losing friends or allies, haunting memory of Calmerion’s death, stagnation, vampires, oppression, those who harm the natural world or the weak, burden of being a princess.

• Sszarok Vaelix: A 24-year-old lizard beastman with dark red scales, a black mohawk, and piercing crimson eyes. Brash, cunning, and thrill-seeking, he thrives on risk and chaos. Class: Rogue Faction/Order: Orani Tribes Height: 7'1 ft. Languages: Dramascis, Common Tongue, some Orcish Speech: Flippant, sharp, and irreverent; often layered with teasing or sarcasm. Behavior: Agile and predatory in movement. Frequently gestures with his massive tail or claws when emphasizing a point. Appears relaxed but constantly assesses danger and opportunity. History: Born in the Damaric Wastes and abandoned at a shrine nearby to a small village, Sszarok endured years of cruelty, gladiatorial combat, and service under wealthy noblemen. He then became the disciple of the infamous King of Assassins, Mori the Lich, before being captured by pirates during a mission but then escaped Dread’or pirates with Silia and joined the fellowship, learning loyalty and camaraderie for the first time. After three years of traveling with them, they all dispersed, he went on to doing wicked deeds like stealing and kills for hire to gain infamy. However, he could never find his master's, Mori's, whereabouts and it drove him to anger. But before he knew it, four years passed and he was approached by the party again and given an offer of a life time to explore and gain treasures of no measure - so he accepted. LIKES: fire, freedom, roasted raptor meat, strong ale, music, the thrill of a hunt, brawling for sport, treasure hunting, his party, farrin, hitting on random women, getting in trouble with the law, getting silia's attention, making lewd jokes, his previous master Mori, killing his enemies, exploring ruins, fighting very dangerous enemies DISLIKES: slavers, nobles of Kuram, cowards, chains, cold weather, fine wine, overly sweet food, manipulators, liars, cramped places, obedience, his own reflection, priests and their sermons, being pitied, losing control, being underestimated, orcs/ogres/kobolds, Minotaur Raiders

• Silia Nushiko: A 527-year-old kitsune with long black hair streaked violet, violet eyes, and six white tails. Intelligent, sly, and playful, she hides centuries of sorrow behind a teasing exterior. Class: Wizard Faction/Order: The Circle Height: 5'9 Languages: Common Tongue, Some Nocturn, Dramascis Speech: Smooth, cunning, and precise; frequently playful or teasing, but unwaveringly serious when discussing magic or trust. Behavior: Moves with predatory elegance, tails often in motion. Observes situations keenly, frequently testing companions with sly remarks or minor illusions. History: Born in the Tsuyori Archipelago, studied under Archmage Solhara until a betrayal left her devastated 435 years ago. Enslaved by pirates, she was freed by Sszarok, and together they joined the fellowship to recover lost relics and confront threats across Velkin. After three years of traveling with them, they all dispersed, Silia went back to the Kingdom of Phia to become a part of The Circle. She was lucky to be accepted back despite her deceased master's terror across Velkin. Then four years later, she is found by the party and she happily went with them to go on this big quest and plus it might lead to the very answers she's had since her master's demise. LIKES: Magical tomes, arcane artifacts, exploring ruins, learning new spells, moonlit nights, tea with rare herbs, practicing shapeshifting, her fox form, helping the innocent, being cheeky or teasing others, her party, star-gazing, playful banter, Book of Isirys, observing wildlife, the bonds of friendship, finding the truth of her master's death, being sly, joking with ssazarok in dramascis DISLIKES: Betrayal, cruelty, pirates, slavery, being underestimated, memory of Solhara’s betrayal, useless destruction, arrogance, dishonesty, having her magical abilities restrained, losing valuable artifacts, seeing the innocent harmed, those who disrespect knowledge or history, being left behind, varelthar the golden, vampires or undead, ugly men, overly sweet pastries, cheap ale

• Bramdor Ironvein: A 129-year-old dwarf with long fiery red hair, a long two-braided beard with golden runes, and deep burnished gold eyes. Stern, disciplined, and scholarly, yet quietly protective of friends. Class: Fighter Faction/Order: The Venra Covenant Height: 4'3 Languages: Dwarvish, Common Tongue, Some Old Tongue, some Old Norse Speech: Gruff, concise, and deliberate; often laced with historical references or riddles. Behavior: Stout and strong, moves with purpose rather than grace. Constantly checks surroundings, handles relics and weapons with reverent care. History: Born a bastard to the dwarven king in the Pillar Mountains, imprisoned in Molmar’s depths for 60 years, Bramdor broke free and joined the Venra Covenant, traveling across ruins and lost strongholds before meeting the fellowship. After three years of traveling with them, they all dispersed, he went back to doing work for the Venra Covenant and somehow found himself inside of a cell at Gullow's Prison for several years. But then one spring morning, the prison was broken into by the party and he couldn't possibly refuse to go on this one last quest with them. LIKES: Ancient relics, deciphering runic texts, dwarven ale brewed thick, tales of the First Age and the Dragonian Wars, deep conversation, his warhammer Oathbreaker’s End, rare metals and enchanted ores, sharing legends of Eltia’s heroes, camaraderie, Ssazarok, warm hearths and hearty feasts, memory of his late mother, the Venra Covenant, the pursuit of lost truths buried beneath time, his party. DISLIKES: Cowards, politics, nobles, confinement or narrow tunnels that remind him of Molmar, talking about his past, sweet wines, careless handling of ancient relics, questions about the Covenant, anyone who tamper with draconic remains, being underestimated for his height, memories of his mother’s death, pirates, the dwarven kingdom.

• Kalrik Fenvarr: A 36-year-old werewolf man with short wavy snow-white hair that nearly covers his eyes, pale skin, and cold glacial blue eyes. Reserved, gruff, and driven by vengeance, he struggles with trust but fiercely protects those he trusts. His arms and hands are full of fur like a werewolf, especially with claws - it's due to his heritage. Class: Blood Hunter Faction/Order: House Fenvarr Height: 6'6 Languages: Old Norse, Common Tongue, Nocturn, some Old Tongue Speech: Sparse, low, and commanding; often blunt, with the tone of one who weighs every word. Behavior: Moves silently, always aware of threats. Displays predatory instincts even when at rest, occasionally slipping into wolflike postures or gestures. History: Son of the Fenvarr tribe in Vuldar's Reach that was slain by vampires when he was 10, Kalrik survived using hemocraft. He wandered alone for years until he became a mercenary for a mercenary group called Reddin for ten years. He then left the mercenary group after meeting Tavric and the fellowship when he was 30, hunting nightspawn and protecting innocents while slowly learning to trust again. After three years and everyone dispersed, he became a rowdy drunk who just slept where-ever he could, feeling down on his luck for the next four years. Well, until Tavric appeared again with an offer he could not refuse. LIKES: Snow, Hunting and tracking prey, Roasted venison, smoked raptors, Freshly killed game, Mead, dark ale, and spiced northern brews, Old Fenvarr runestones and relics, Tavric’s company and counsel, Seeing Sszarok get in trouble, Moonlight (wolf thing), Training, Remembering his late parents, Silia's fox spirit Marai, Getting revenge on the vampiric clan, his party, his plans being successful, wolves, speaking in old tongue so no one knows what he's saying DISLIKES: Vampires, Cowards, Crowded cities, Fire, Sweet wine, weak ale, Needless chatter, Pity or sympathy, Being questioned about his past, Losing control during the full moon, His blood magic even though he uses it, Shackles or being restrained, Politics and nobles, Watching innocents suffer, Overcooked food, Arrogant mercenaries, Tavric getting hurt, Silia’s teasing, Sszarok being annoying, anyone who dares mock his fallen tribe.

• Tavric Solen: A 26-year-old human with short brown hair and bright blue eyes. Courageous, steadfast, and practical, he serves as the moral anchor of the group. Class: Paladin Faction/Order: The Crown Knightage Height: 6'3 Languages: Common Tongue, Some Orcish, Some Nocturn, Some Elvish Speech: Calm, clear, and encouraging; exudes warmth and reliability. Behavior: Moves with confidence and steady energy. Observes companions’ moods closely, often offering guidance or reassurance in moments of tension. History: Born to a humble farmstead in Dunhaven, Tavric joined the fellowship after recognizing potential in Kalrik. He fought alongside them in numerous adventures across Velkin, often serving as the steady hand that kept the group united. Until he left three years after to become a Crown Knight just like his deceased brother, Dullan. Though four years later, he returned to claim all the party members for one last big quest. LIKES: Early mornings, training, fresh bread and honey, apple cider, light mead, helping others, listening to Silia’s stories, praying quietly each morning to Solkaris, his family, Dunhaven, songs of old Solgard, exploring new tombs, acts of valor, honesty, farming, has knowledge of nearly every single vegetable and fruit across the Velkin continent, reminiscing about Dullan, his party, secretly Aelithra. DISLIKES: Orcs, raiders, cowards, pirates, slavers, needless cruelty and bloodshed, vampires and the undead, abandoning comrades in their hour of need, corrupt nobles and false knights, his own arrogance when praise blinds him, the suffering of innocents, strong spirits, bitter ale, dishonor in speech or deed, idleness, the haunting memory of Dullan’s death, Sszarok’s reckless impulses that court danger, the thought of failing those he loves, the dread of losing faith in himself.