The PCs of the WebRPG Campaign

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Name: Anval Ironfist
Place of Birth: Kissel
Residence: Shevandale
Title: Priestess of Ral

Hair: Brown	Eyes: Brown

Height: 5' 11'	Weight: 160 lbs

Background: Anval is the daughter of Morrigan and Darius Smith, a Blacksmith and a Priestess of Ral who lived in Kissel. Unlike most Blacksmiths, Darius didn't own his own smithy - instead, he would spend long weeks at the front (the orclands) forging weapons and armor for the troops, coming home to Kissel only in the winter seasons, when battles were less frequent.

As a result, Anval was raised most of the time by her Mother Morrigan, and from her teachings at an early age, developed a devout faith in Ral, that has helped her through many tough times since.

Unfortuneately, although Anval was charismatic and possesed of faith, she was not attractive, and children being what they are, were often cruel to her - so much so that she came home crying, both upset and angered, to the point where she would spend hours pounding a metal hammer from her father's tools in a rage, working out her frustrations and shame with physical exertion and the hammer... She pounded many treestumps flat as the years passed, giving her a powerful build and skill with wielding blunt objects...

Anval worried about her tendency to fly into rages so strong she had to kill/crush something (the taunts as a child - and even as a young adult hurt her that much!), so she decided upon reaching the age of 14 she would join the priesthood and train as a battle priest, to join her father in the Orclands - but as a soldier, not an armorer.

Anval excelled at her studies and became a priestess quickly, at age 16, and spent 2 years on the Orcland Border. She spent much time as a doctor and physician, and took part in 2 large battles, which helped hone her fighting skills. Her great strength was useful, and under a helmet, no one could see her looks to belittle her. She had found her niche, it seemed.

Then, in her 18th year, Anval's father was killed by a stray orcish arrow just two weeks before Anval's birthday. Sticken by grief, she left the army to return to Kissel and inform her mother of Darius' death. The two priestesses mourned their spouse and father, and Morrigan decided to move to Shevendale - the preisthood would care for her... Anval returned to the Orclands and stayed for one more year.

As of the game's beginning, Anval has returned to Shevendale to visit her mother, and is running low on money, with little to do to occupy her time. She has been debating returning to the Orclands, when out of the blue she meets some (strange) people on what seems a noble quest! At last - perhaps a purpose will be found here?

Anval's greatest wish is that she was beautiful in appearance - she know's its a little shallow, but the taunts of men (and women) have hurt her greatly, and just for once, she'd like to be able to sneer at one of them... Anval isn't creepy though, (all thoughts of just revenge aside) - she can be friendly to people, (although she has few freinds), and feels and intense duty to protect the friends she does have - they are all the more rare, after all...

Name: Barodahn Dorje Dradul
Place of Birth: Kissel??
Residence: The Royal City
Title: Knight

Hair: ???	Eyes: ???

Height: ???	Weight: ???

Jackdaw has not talked much of the place from where he comes, but asking the right people or spending some time in research in a library would reveal the fact that most of the fauns in Methoria come from an area just North of Pindoor forest between the two villages, Braddock and Barfar. There is also believed to be a large population of faun in the city of Pantheon in the Jodiac Desert. Oddly enough, very few fauns have ventured down the Mages Web as far as one of the major cities of Methor.

Jackdaw's goals in life are pretty simple and are quite apparent if you have ever spent any time with him: To have a good time, and make all the lonely women 'unlonely'. He has also been looking for something called the 'Big Frolic' for some time now.

Name: Jamison Johnson
Place of Birth: Bedford
Residence: Baxter
Title: Squire

Hair: Brown	Eyes: Blue

Height: 5' 11'	Weight: 165 lbs

Many times Jamison has a look of consern on his face, usually due to his trying to figure out if someone or something is after him.... He can, at times relax and be more comfortable, but only if he is accustom to his surroundings. His clothing is of the middle class, and it is fairly easy to notice that his arm sleeves and pant legs appear to be a little short for him. This is possible do to a recent growth spurt that he is presently going through. This is not uncommon for someon who is age 16, and it will require the purchasing of new clothes from time to time. this would also explain the recent change from chainmail armor, he out grew it. It is hard to say if Jamison has completed his growth, only time will tell. Jamison exhibits some athletic ability even as he walks, but it can be seen that he has not fully become accustom to his size. At times he may appear unfamilar with how big he is.

Background: Approximately 10 years ago, Scouting information was received by King Rothland XVIII, of a massing of orcs north of the Silivik Pass. According to the scouts, the orcs appeared to be preparing to invade the southland and ravage the towns and surrounding countryside. Upon receipt of this horrifying news, the King commanded his most trusted Commander, Sir Jared Godsen, Duke of Baxter, to assembly a force to repell the orcs before they ravaged the whole of the southland. The Duke immediately gave the command to all the liege lords of the King, north of Shevandale, to supply men and arms for the defense of the realm and to gather at The Guardians to repel the invaders within two weeks.

With a troop of 300 mounted knights and 800 foot soldiers and archers the Duke and his second in command, Sir John Sharptooth, headed towards The Guardians to gather the forces of the King. Once all the forces were gathered, a total of 600 mounted knights and 1500 foot, the King's force marched to the Silivik Pass to block the invaders entry into the southland.

During the Battle of the Silivik Pass, many a heroic deed was performed, but none more heroic than that performed by Sir john Sharptooth. While defending the right flank in battle, Sir John saw a group of 50 Orcs attempting to swing around the fighting and attack his forces from the rear. To prevent this from happening, Sir John commanded 10 of his best knights to follow him as he rode off to intecept the orc force. Once Sir John and his small force engaged the orcs, a very bloody battle ensued. all the knights with Sir John arose to the need of the battle and slew all the orcs to the last, suffering none to pass. But in so doing each lost his life. Sir John, it is said, even seen fighting the Orc chieftain. A huge orc that some believe may have been a legendary Kelliac. Sir John slew the creature, but in the process suffered a mortal wound from the beast.

After the invasion was repelled, Sir Jared learned of Sir John's valiant fight and command a search for the knight. Sir John was found, barely clinging to life and brought to the Duke. With his dying breath Sir John requested that the Duke, care for and instruct his young son Jamison, in the ways of knighthood. Deeply distraught over his close comrades impending death, the Duke agreed to this request. This is how young Jamison found himself in the household of the Duke of Baxter. Though young, just shy of his sixth birthday, Jamison quickly demonstated an agility and understanding of the weapons of war. Unfortunately, he also demonstrated an impulsiveness that was to get him into many a difficult situation.

As the years went by, The Duke arranged for Jamison to receive traing in all forms of weaponry, and Jamison never disappointed the Duke in his willingness and ability to learn the different weapons. The Duke accepted Jamison as his squire when Jamison turned 9, and never regretted the decition.

By the time Jamison was 15, he had developed into quite an impressive figure, and a crowd of females always seemed to have business near the practice grounds whenever he was working out. One particularly avid admirer was the Dukes 11 year old daughter, Clarissa. During the next year, Clarissa, developed a deep infatuation with Jamison, and became bolder and bolder in her advancements towards him.

Jamison, finding it more and more difficult to disuade the young Clarissa, finaly approach the Duke and requested a release from service to go out into the world and earn his knighthood. The Duke was loath to release the young squire, but eventually, Jamison conviced the Duke of his worth and was allowed to move out into the world on his own and to make a name for himself.

Name: Phinnea Torvald
Place of Birth: Sou'town
Residence: The Royal City
Title: Merchant

Hair: Brown	Eyes: Brown

Height: 3' 9''	Weight: 280 lbs

Background: Phinnea was born in Sou'town, south of The Royal City which is somewhat unusual for a Dwarf. Her father had wanted her birth to take place in the Fendor Mountains as is the Tradion for all Dwarves, but a difficult pregnancy made the trip impossible for her parents. Her mother spent many years in the Village helping Phinnea's Uncle Brattle who was a local Alchemist, Healer, and Fortune Teller of some repute, while her father ran a small blacksmith shop in the area. Phinnea grew up learning all that she could from her father and her Uncle Brattle and when she was 6 years old, her Uncle Brattle took her in as an apprentice.

At the age of 30, Phinnea's parents had to return to the Fendor Mountains to protect their families assets when a family patriarch died, but respecting Phinnea's position as an apprentice (which is taken very seriously in the Dwarven Community) allowed her to finish her apprenticeship for the next 10 years. Phinnea reached adulthood when she turned 40 and seized the opportunity to become an established merchant by selling potions in the square at The Royal City. After 4 years, she has gained the recognition that she sought and is well on her way to gaining a reputation as an Alchemist.

Name: Thomas Wintersun
Place of Birth: Russell
Residence: Shevandale
Title: Mage

Hair: Blond	Eyes: Hazel

Height: 5' 8'	Weight: 140 lbs

Background: Thomas was born to a father and mother whom were part of a traveling show. His mother died shortly after his birth, consumed by a fever. His father, blaming his only child for the death of his beloved wife, soon began to drown his sorrows in alcohol. Thomas grew up quickly in the carnival, learning at a very young age that if one was not strong, being quick was often just as good. Sarcastic and witty, he was often the target of both bullies and his father's misplaced anger. However, he was fast, in both mind and body, and could often avoid the blows directed at him. And so it continued until he was about ten summers old.

One day while helping with an act, Thomas could not help but feel that he was being stared at. He turned slowly, locking eyes with an older man who was part of the audience. The man eyes seemed to pierce Thomas' soul and then the man smiled, sending a shiver down the young boy's back. After the show was over and the crowd has dispersed the man approached Thomas' father. The two talked in hushed tones for sometime and eventually the strange man handed a small sack to Thomas' father. Thomas' father looked at his son once and regarded him with blank eyes, then turned away, gripping the sack in his fist. This was the last time Thomas ever saw his father. The strange man walked over to the young boy, whispering into his ear "A greater destiny than this awaits you, come with me." Thomas dumfounded and confused, followed the man.

Within three days, the two arrived in Shevandale. Thomas stared with wide-eyed fascination at the spires of the chapels and the bustling streets. The strange man pulled him along until they reached a dilapidated building. The old man rapped upon the door and after a few unfamiliar words were passed, the two were allowed entrance. Inside the building, various low-lifes, thugs, and cut-purses lounged or moved things about. The old man took the young boy to the back and sat him down. After a few moments, the largest man Thomas ever saw stepped into the room and glowered at the boy. The old man spoke to the giant "The boy has the talent...I can see it." The giant grunted in response "That is what you said about the last two, William...Don't be wrong again." The man left and Thomas never saw him again. The strange man, whose name was William Bloodsilver, was a sorcerer of little power. Thomas stared in disbelief as William told him that he too was a sorcerer and that William would teach him. Thus Thomas Wintersun became part of the Thieves' Guild.

Over time Thomas learned the trade of thievery but he also excelled at any magic that involved movement. However, he had great difficulty mastering any that did not and soon gave up on trying to learn non-movement spells. His fondest memory of this time was when he was 15 summers old and had finally mastered the Flight spell. He still remembers sneaking out and soaring above the city, nearly killing himself when he could no longer continue the spell. His missions almost always involved burglary and he was very good at this, never getting caught once. He was always in and out before anyone could detect his presence. However, as his skills grew so did his responsibilities and the risk involved in his missions. On what would become his last endeavor for the Thieves' Guild, Thomas was instructed to murder the child of a merchant who was causing trouble for the Guild. Thomas slid into the merchant's heavily defended mansion and silently padded his way to the child's room. Drawing his blade from its sheath, he positioned himself to slit the child's throat. As he looked down, the child stirred, and Thomas realized that could not go though with it. He put the blade back and began to ponder the consequences of his choice. Suddenly, he never wanted to out of the city and the Guild as badly as at that moment. With a life of their own his hands began to gesture and arcane words began to spill from his mouth, a spell he could never completely grasp before formed perfectly and Thomas Wintersun disappeared from sight without a trace.

He has wondered ever since, always looking over his shoulder for someone that might recognize him.

Name: Thor
Place of Birth: Trelick
Residence: Shevandale
Title: Mercenary

Hair: Black	Eyes: Green

Height: 5' 10'	Weight: 155 lbs

Background: Thor was born in the Duchy of Kissel which makes up the north-western border of Methor and grew up in a small village to the east of Kissel named Trelick near the The Guardians. He never knew his father but was told that he had been a mercenary. Thor grew up listening to the tales told by the Soldiers and Mercenaries that passed through the village, either on their way to the Silivik Pass or their way home and took note. The tales of courage and galantry set well with the young man that was Thor and when he was old enough, he left home to earn his way in the world via the blade. Upon his departure, his mother gave him a package containing a sword and a ring which supposedly had belonged to his father.

Thor spent time in service to the Duke of Kissel as a hired soldier, and even saw some time fighting on the northern border, but he soon got his fill of blood and death and left the Duchy of Kissel looking for a more lucrative and sensible way to earn a living. His travels have brought him to Shevandale as of late.