- Tanaka Chinami - Student - A student shugenja who summons spirits. Japanese. Hime-cut hair, a big forehead with small eyebrows and piercing eyes. Thin frame.
"Mooouu..." groaned the small-browed girl in the commons, hazarding a hand into her straight, black hair. She sat on one end of the common-room, occupying the couch as if it were all hers, and yet crowded upon it all at the same time. Her fingers seemed to scratch her ears, before a small kitsune-spirit poked its nose from under her hair, chasing the retreating digits into the open. The skittish little spirit fell into her lap, immediately turning over on its back expectantly. "Sonuruwi, how are you so calm? Today was so stressful. I could barely keep up with all the talking heads, and I've actually spoken to talking heads before."
- Sun Liu Wei - Student - A monk who uses ki to enhance his body. Chinese. Bald with with somewhat cut features, he has a wide nose, and dark eyes. Built frame.
The girl's brows fell lower as her lips rose into a noticeable pout, the spirit in her lap curled at her fingers, and spat a small gout of flame harmlessly. "Why do you keep saying my name like that, you know my name. It's Chinami. Chi. Na. Mi."
"Until you learn my name is Sun Yiu Wei."
"Sonryuwe. Er... That's too much... Can't you shorten it?"
"You may call me Yiu Wei, that is my given name."
A heated blush spread on the girl's face, bunching a fist at her knee, the fox rose its head lazily. "That's too forward!"
- Eryk Kashevski - Student - A hexer that relies a few practiced, memorized spells to assist in swordplay. Polish. Has brown hair, yellow eyes and face covered it cuts and claw marks. He tends to speak in low, raspy tones.
"My medallion shakes when spirits and monsters pass by, and it would have woke me if it did. The footsteps sounded like boots. Hurried. Not as loud as they should've been. Someone skinny probably. Small."
"You think saying a bunch of mysterious things makes you sound cool, Kayasaki-san?"
"You think saying a bunch of mean things makes you sound tough, Tanaka?"
- Manon Laframboise - Student - A clown who uses illusion magic to power her jokes and jibes, along with a few magical artifacts. French. Dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, usually decorated in white make-up, and various paintings of clownface.
"Is it your want to also track him?"
Manon gasped, slammed the door in Vrey's face, before immediately ripping it open, now dressed in full clown attire. She wore silly multi-color boots, with striped stockings that ran all the way up to mid-thigh that ended in some garish, puffy pantaloons. The rest of her was bedecked with colors, ribbons, and puffy sleeves. The ensemble was complete with a painted face that acted as a mantle for a jingly fool's hat.
- Elizabeth Caxton - Percy's Mother - A powerful fire and lightning thaumaturge, she is a stern and very loving lady, but she can sometimes be a bit overbearing.
When she walked in, there was a certain astonishing aura that gripped everyone in the room, as if the flames of her personality licked and ebbed over their own minds. Miller could feel it, as could his other presence. Miyuki felt somewhat pressured, as if her innate element was being repulsed slightly. The others could see it in her hair, a vibrant flow that appeared to resemble the very element her personality imposed. Her eyes were a bright green, and they quickly gathered everyone up in the room with its lightning, arcing over to each and every person like they were being chained under it. She had fair skin, somewhat ripened by age, yet tendered by years of love. Her body was a very slight hourglass, tone and build suggesting a certain athleticism that had seen and intense amount rigor, but not for a long time.
- Alistair Caxton - Percy's Father - A incredibly unassuming earth and ice evoker, those that knew him steer clear, and those that don't find him rather unimpressive next to his wife.
It was a draugr, standing tall at almost six feet. The skin, what was left of it, had a deathly pallor to it, with an odd shade of blue. He wore rusted armor, and wielded a rusty sword, which he kept planted in the floor, guarding an ancient tomb. Alistar, Percival's father, seemed to have no fear of the ancient warrior. Percival couldn't make himself step beyond the stone he had taken cover beside, the undead were frightening, especially this one.
The draugr turned his skin-laid, eyeless skull to Alistar as he approached.
"Ï¢Ï´Ð…Ð‹Ï¬Ï¤ Ï°Ï™Ï¢Ï¹Ð—Ñš Ñ©ÐÐ²Ð–Ó”×£." The draugr hummed his words of an unopening, half-toothless mouth. Percival could sense it, the draug was warning them not to approach. Yet, Alistar rose his hands and spoke.
"Ò¾Ò¹Ñ®, Ï ÏšÏžÏ˜Ï›Ï— Ð±ÏÏ Ñ«ÐÐÐ."
Those words Percival had never heard his father practice before, yet he spoke them fluidly. Seconds went by, and the longer the draug stayed silent, the more tense the young boy got.
"ÏœÏžÏ ." spoke the Draugr, stepping aside. Alistar turned to look at Percival, smiling.
"Percy, this here is Svagnir. He's a friend."
- Eryl Maelgwyn - Ancient Matriarch - The Black Triclops. She was once a feared acolyte of mages in the 1800s, but fate has cast her into the present. She is a powerful Abjurer, but finds it difficult to shield herself from people. She was in the Elementalia Magicus when it failed in 1861. She was born in 1846.
Her eyes caught the whip of a lengthy coat in the gloom of the small structure. An illusionary magic misted the intruder, though they were not trying too hard to hide themselves, judging by how light the spell was. From the hard-shadowed corner opened a set of eyes, three eyes, that almost glowed a blue color. The image of a young woman spread from the edges of the eyes until she was completely revealed. Slender, almost as tall as Jane, with a head of wavy black hair that flowed over her shoulders. There was a look in her eyes that reminded her of one of her students.
A mage had snuck into her stable, one that didn't blend well with regular society, judging by the long coat and flowing sleeves. She seemed to stare at Jane with a careful, analyzing look, a slender hand passing over and refusing to hover above a driftwood wand. Instead she brought her hands together, and offered a calculated parley.
- Bleddyn Maelgwyn - Scion of Cardiff - The Everlasting Inheritor. Drysi's grandmother, Eckert's mother, and a mysterious figure that is held in high praise by her granddaughter, and great reservation by her son. Not much is known of her, except that she was with the library for almost a century before she was cast out.
"Bleddyn Maelgwyn, a true inheritor of the Cardiff arts. Their earliest messages go back a few years, so it's likely they knew each other for a while. Power trading, academic theft, secret brokering, and general black-hat witchery. You know, the usual underground magicks..."
Sacrifice. Blood Rituals. The Unspoken Power. Soul Magic. The discussions between the two were a practical academic trove for the unbound community. Percival sighed, having finally finished his tea. He turned the cup over and set it down on the table, "That all ended a few months ago."
"A few months ago?" nodded Ruarc, that cutting look searched below his glasses.
"Right, I was still floating in an egg at the time, but the file I've read says that she was murdered, a potent Razor Wind rune judging by the assensing notes. The witness of the incident claimed it was done by a long-time friend fitting the Wolf's description."
- Eckert Maelgwyn - Drysi's Father - A son of one of the lesser branches of the Maelgwyn family, he owns a stationery store which is also a front as a magic items store.
Eckert Maelgwyn stared out over the front lawn. His three eyes were haggard and tired, he had just spent the last ten hours driving through Wales. When he had received the phone call, he barely believed it, but it didn’t stop him from taking his little Renault all the way up north. The first time this had happened, it had just been a quick trip to Cardiff.
The culprit that had caused this night time sojourn stood a few feet away, gently swaying from fatigue and a sleepless night. She had been standing there for at least thirty minutes, and was struggling to stay upright. Nerves had managed to keep her going through midnight and into the morning.
She opened her mouth to speak, and her father’s shoulders seized.
- Wynne Maelgwyn - Drysi's Mother - The odd paper witch which married into a family of Triclopsi, she is a simple woman, with a deceptive amount of patience.
"So you are... the owner? Er... headmaster?" Wynne tried to make sense of Ruarc's rational sentences, it showed on her face. Her fingers drummed on the table a moment before she took a break to speak, but awkwardly held up a hand to indicate she wasn't done.
"Ehem, if that is the case... then I would like to, ah, discuss something-- uhm... someone," after straightening herself out, "Our daughter-- er... As in, ours... as in, mine and my husband's."
She chuckled nervously, before taking another sample of her tea, "Drysi. Ahm, Drysi Maelgwyn. She has been registered as a student here, and I... er... we- My husband and I, were hoping to discuss an issue?" That turned into a question at the end, and corrected herself, "A matter. With our daughter's education. Er, specifically the one... she is... er... seeking here."