OOC Info Ravok Wish List

[Shiress]

Name: Kylar Nitrozian
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Birthday: 12th Day, Winter 493, 25 yrs old
Occupation: Lark House Guard/spy
Skills:
Weapon-short sword-57XP
Unarmed Combat-28XP
Leadership-20XP
Stealth-21XP
Endurance-26XP
Observation-53XP

[Nahaali]

Tabbed to prevent spamming. I like coming up with NPC ideas, heh.

 

Eleanor Lark - Accepted

Name: Eleanor Lark
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Birthday: 4, Spring, 502 AV (16)
Occupation: Import Tradesman
Purpose: Help flesh out Lark NPC family

Negotiation	23
Persuasion	30
Socialization	35
Law	15
Floristry	10
Politics	20
Perfumery	9

 

Hazel

[u]Name: Hazel
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Birthday: 12 Winter, 465 AV
Occupation: City Healer
Background: Sassy but grandmotherly, described as "as round as she is tall", though is actually quite short (<5'3"); twice Rak'keli marked

Botany	25
Herbalism	40
Medicine	79
Message	20

 

Nazira Stronglight

Name: Nazira Stronglight
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Birthday: 12 Winter, 473 AV
Occupation: Music/Dance Instructor

Dance	24
Music Composition	32
Play Musical Instrument - Gea'tar	26
Play Musical Instrument - Harp	47
Play Musical Instrument - Lute	36
Play Musical Instrument - Rhythm Rattles	30

[Zuhre]

City NPC


Name: Tallon Erving
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 26
Birthday: Summer 61, 492 AV
Birthplace: Ravok
Occupation: Sculpter
Skills: Pottery | 72
Trapping | 34
Hunting | 41
Unarmed Combat | 53
Painting | 67
Purpose: Artist at the Studio of Yae Varone
Background:

Physical Description:
Tallon has somewhat long, sandy blonde hair that is usually either disheveled and hanging into his smokey grey eyes, or gelled halfheartedly back and out of his face. Though, no amount of gel will erase the curls in his hair completely. His face is long, and flawed with a small scar above his lip to which looks slightly like a crescent moon if stared at for just long enough. Ornamental jewelry hangs from his nose in the form of a loop and his left ear is pierced. During any time of day, he is found with a five o’clock shadow, and slightly dark circles under his eyes as though he has been working long bells or never got enough sleep from the previous night. He is rather toned, with pronounced veins on his arms, like the mass of the muscle compartmentalized inside the arm is too much for them. He reaches just past 6 feet tall and weighs approximately 190 pounds.

Character Concept:
Tallon is a very well-mannered and well-spoken individual whose intelligence in all things reason and logic far outweigh his emotional intelligence. The reason to this is not understood, as he rarely gets too close to any one person. Although he lacks the ability to understand some situations and their association with feelings, he is no stranger to recognizing and understanding pain. Tallon is neither introverted nor extroverted, as he tends to keep to himself about most things, but when he is with those he knows he is capable of letting his guard down a notch or two.

History: Much of Tallon's history is unknown. All that is known is that one day he was a slum in the streets, and the next, he was an upcoming artist presenting his new pieces at the well renowned Yae Varone studio. Many speculate that he was secretly involved in some shady financial business with the owner of the studio, but no accusations have been proved.

[Elias Caldera]

As a Commander in the Ebonstryfe, Elias gets his own unit of 5 soldiers. I'm also adding his own commanding officer for consideration at the end as well.

 

Unit 1

Name: Taliya Solaire
Race: Human
Place of Birth: Ravok
Date of Birth: Winter, 495 AV

Skills:
Long Sword [75]
Reimancy [65]
Projection [52]
Glyphing [50]
Unarmed Combat [40]
Horse Riding [38]
Animation [25]
Gadgetry [25]


As an up and coming apprentice within the Ebonstryfe, Taliya was a talented and cunning young recruit with few equals among her jealous peers. Deadly with a blade and naturally gifted with a number of magical arts, many thought her destined for greatness as part of the order, and none more so than her sister Liana, the only one whom Taliya had ever truly respected. Together the sisters Solaire were unstoppable, and Taliya often followed in the footsteps of her older sibling with reverence and awe, hoping to one day to become just as good as she was, or perhaps even a little better.

Unfortunately for the sisters however, fate had different plans than the ones tied to it.

During the early days of Spring in the year 509 AV, a ravenous and rampaging horde of yukmen descended upon Ravok's shorelines without warning, catching a contingent of apprentices undergoing routine training exercises completely off guard. Among them were Taliya and Liana, who soon found themselves fighting on the front lines for their very lives. By the end of the bloodshed that followed, Liana lay dead on the battlefield and Taliya lingered not far behind, her body mutilated and her soul balancing precariously on Dira's doorstep. Either by a miracle of Rhysol or sheer determination alone, Taliya ultimately survived, though her world had been irrevocably changed forever. With the creatures having claimed one of her arms and her once fierce will just as savaged as her body, it seemed as if the girl's bright future had come to an abrupt and dismal end. Such indeed appeared to be the case until the day the apprentice was granted a surprise assignment by an unknown benefactor within the Black Sun. The mission -its details vague to say the least- only ever promised that it would see the young warrior stationed far abroad in distant, foreign lands. With little say in the matter and a desperate need to escape the traumatic memories of her past, Taliya reluctantly agreed.

Since then, she had effectively disappeared from all known records.

It wasn't until some nine years later did the apprentice finally reemerge. Though no longer an apprentice, nor a child by any means, Taliya had become a full fledged soldier in the Ebonstryfe and returned home to Ravok a hardened and much maligned woman with new powers and skills that would put most paladins twice her age to shame. Most curious of all however, was the metallic and artificial arm she wielded in place of her missing one. Powered by the arcane art of animation and supposedly cursed with a rebellious mind of its own, this strange magical construct was merely a single piece in the grander puzzle that was Taliya's missing years. For her part, the sorceress doesn't speak about what went on during that time, nor does it seem to have diminished her ambitions any. As passionate and irascible as ever, now that the young soldier has returned to her homeland she aims for greatness and glory as all those worthy of it do. Whether Taliya can overcome both her harrowing past and the new challenges of the present in order to actually seize that destiny however, only time will tell.

 

Unit 2

Name: Alistair Valmont
Race: Human
Place of Birth: Mithryn Outpost
Date of Birth: Summer, 468 AV

Skills:
Great War Hammer [70]
Bodybuilding [65]
Flux [54]
Shielding [52]
Horse Riding [50]
Wax Axe [45]
Large Steel Shield [45]
Leadership [30]
Instrument: Lute [25]
Juggling [22]


Standing at nearly six and a half feet tall, Alistair Valmont is a veritable mountain of muscle and menace, towering over both ally and enemy alike with unsettling ease. The barrel chested giant is a particularly terrifying sight to behold on the battlefield, especially so when clad from head to toe in heavy plate armor and swinging his massive war hammer around with the ease of a toddler his toy. Despite what his imposing size and bloody accoutrements might incline some to believe however, the fallen knight is in fact a man of genuine compassion and thoughtfulness. Though he may now serve a dark god in a wicked city, the ideas of honor and selfless piety instilled from his old life have not yet been extinguished... at least not completely.

Almost always found with a pipe between his teeth and the faint aroma of sweet Kenashi tobacco wafting about his person, Alistair has a natural charm about him that not only stems from his peculiar southern drawl, but also his downright jovial and chummy demeanor. For all intents and purposes, the old warrior comes across as someone you wouldn't mind sharing a drink and a laugh with. A truly amiable fellow who can spin a tale and get the crowd cheering with a parlor trick or two he picked up during his years abroad. One could hardly be blamed then for their surprise if they were to notice the plethora of Sunberth gang tattoos on the big man's hulking arms, or the deep and seemingly self-inflicted scars that mar his flesh, each of which tell a tale darker than the last.

Yet things were not always so for the once proud knight.

As a sergeant within the ranks of the Syliran Order, Alistair had little claim to fame save of course for his infamous temper, which was once described by his patron as 'a brewing storm, one that could rain down at any moment and upon anyone, friend and foe alike.’ Due to this, the giant often found himself reprimanded for his uncivil and violent tendencies over the course of his humble knighthood. Things seemed to come to a head in the Summer of 513 AV when a warrant was abruptly issued for the Knight Sergeant's arrest. The crime; murder. The sentence; death.

What exactly had transpired that could have led to such a drastic turn of events is a secret the old knight keeps close to his chest. What is for certain however, is that when Alistair fled Syliras, he did so with the curse of Wysar branded unto his flesh and blessing of Rhysol just as prominent.

After his fall, Alistair wandered the region for a long time, forlorn and adrift. From Kenash to Sunberth and everywhere in between, the knight's listless journey seemed destined to end in tragedy until finally, unable to withstand the whispers of the Defiler plaguing his mind any longer, a ragged and downtrodden Alistair finally surrendered and set foot upon the docks of Ravok some five years later. There he found the Ebonstryfe waiting for him with gracious smiles and open arms, the word ‘brother’ dripping from their lips like a serpent’s venom. Though never truly convinced of his place among those he had once sworn to destroy, it wasn't long before the Syliran crossed paths with Elias Caldera, a young and freshly minted commander at the time who saw in Alistair the same potential Rhysol likely did. Elias promised the grizzled knight a new path if he joined him in his crusade, one filled with purpose and dignity, the two things Alistair had always felt he’d been denied his entire life. Since that time the exiled knight has become the Caldera's right-hand man and most trusted confidant, and while their beliefs and morals are often at odds with one another, Alistair has never once faltered when it comes to following his commander into the jaws of hell time after time.

 

Unit 3

Name: Decima
Race: Kelvic
Place of Birth: Sunberth
Date of Birth: Spring, 513 AV

Skills:
Snake Spear [85]
Composite Longbow [72]
Whip [70]
Endurance [60]
Acrobatics [52]
Kukri Dagger [45]
Throwing Daggers [45]
Brawling [40]
Hunting [40]
Tracking [40]


'Decima' has only ever been a name. Just one of many countless the battle hardened and brazen young gladiatrix had been given in her past. Names like that were merely embellishments to be worn and discarded, a means to get the crowds of the arena cheering and the men with money betting. Unlike the others that came before it however, this latest and particularly over the top moniker is one that comes with a particular distinction, for it is the name the bearded vulture Kelvic wore the day Rhysol blessed her with her freedom.

As good a reason as any to keep it, Decima figures.

Originally born in Sunberth, her mother was a retired prize fighter of some acclaim while her deadbeat father was known only for his exorbitant debts and his loud mouth. His untimely demise early in her youth ultimately saw Decima's family enslaved and sold off by the local Daggerhands who came to collect. Eventually purchased by an eccentric Nykan lanista, the two children underwent cruel and grueling training to become gladiators themselves. While their mother's luck and skill eventually ran dry and she perished in the ring, Decima and her brother Dominus quickly earned themselves a reputation of renown. Fighting everywhere from seedy back alleys to the great coliseum itself, the siblings proved ferocious competitors individually, but united became truly unstoppable. Soon their talents landed them in Ravok where a grand tournament hosting the greatest warriors from every corner of the world was being held. Though the fighting was fierce and the Ravokian crowd just as viscous, the siblings inevitably arose from the smoke and blood, victorious. To their surprise, and the surprise of their disgruntled master, it was announced that the winner of the tournament was to earn their freedom from bondage forever. The catch?

There could only be one.

Faced with the prospect of turning on one another for something they both desperately desired, the Kelvic duo instead turned their weapons on the world that sought to divide them. They had decided that if they could not know liberation together, then they would at least embrace death together. A bold declaration that infuriated their contemptible master. In response, he ordered wave after wave of his guardsmen into the arena to silence them both once and for all. Like the gladiators who had come before them however, these men stood no chance, cut down by two of the finest fighters Ravok had ever known. Such was their prowess and bravery that when there was no one left to face them, it was only Rhysol himself who dared to appear upon the blood soaked sands. Impressed by their skill and taken by their defiance, the Defiler saw fit to to bequeath to them not only their freedom, but also a place within his holy army, and all to the thunderous applause of the thousands in attendance.

Since then Decima has served in the Ebonstryfe earnestly for the most part, content to kill in the name of her dark lord as opposed for mere coin and applause. Though her oath to Rhysol hasn't nearly been as unshakeable as her bond to her brother, few can deny how the vulture's skills make her an invaluable asset to the ebon-clad legions. Despite this, the animosity Decima still receives from those forced to consider a Kelvic their peer is undeniable, yet is something the newly minted soldier actually revels in. Her bloody years in the arena have shaped the young woman harshly, and now faced with her unbridled independence, adjustment to life beyond the sands had proven... challenging, to say the least. Restless and ever impatient, the vulture never feels truly at ease unless embroiled in conflict. In the thick of the fight is where the ex-gladiatrix calls home, and her attitude reflects as much. Tough, hardheaded and never far from trouble, Decima's uncompromising and passionate demeanor would often see her steeped in the brawl she so interminably seeks if it weren't for the judicious rational and incessant voice of reason that is her brother. As a faithful fixture never found far from her side, Dominus's endless lectures may leave his younger sister groaning and grumbling in exasperation, but the truth is the vulture is more than glad to have him close, for she's knows that even though they may have traded the arena for a battlefield and one mad master for another, no matter the challenges faced before them, no matter the obstacle standing in their way, together they will always be unstoppable. Together, they will always be family.

 

Unit 4

Name: Dominus
Race: Kelvic
Place of Birth: Sunberth
Date of Birth: Spring, 512 AV

Skills:
Gladius [75]
Duel Wield [60]
Unarmed Combat [60]
Endurance [55]
Wilderness Survival (Forest, Marshland) [52]
Poison [50]
Meditation [50]
Medicine [45]
Herbalism [42]


Its easy to pick up a sword and fight. Dominus knows this because he was only a whimpering pup when his hands first gripped the hilt of a blade and and was bid to swing it by his madcap master. First at training dummies and sacks of sand. Then eventually at targets who were not so content to sit still and be split open by some mewling runt and his rusty sword. Since then Dominus has become a master of his craft and learned that while it was easy enough to fight for fighting's sake, in the end the truth test of one's spirit was what they fought for. For the jackal Kelvic, that was never for things like glory or fame or to satiate some vulgar lust for violence. Though he was a gladiator who had competed and killed in countless arenas, he had only ever fought for one reason, and one reason alone; his family.

Like his sister Decima, Dominus had been enslaved and indoctrinated into the life of a gladiator at a young age. Unlike his sister however, the jackal had never truly garnered a love for bloodshed as she had. Though he was a more than a capable warrior in his own right, Dominus focused more on teaching himself the art of healing, as all too often his meager skills proved to be the only thing separating his rambunctious sister and poor mother from Dira's final embrace. Yet, even despite the young slave's best efforts to save his kin, it could never be enough. For while he could keep his sister safe as long as he was fighting by her side, he could do nothing but watch in helpless horror as their mother was forced unto the sands time after time, her body and mind withering under the relentless pace their greedy master had set for his best earner, until at last the day came where she was pitted against an opponent she simply didn't have the strength to defeat anymore.

While Decima was devastated by the loss, their mother's passing had a much more profound effect on Dominus. His rage, something he'd learned to squash and hide at young age, overcame him. He became an animal that not even his sister recognized anymore and he swore vengeance upon his cruel and insane master whatever the cost. It wouldn't be long before he was finally given the opportunity to sate his wrath. A tournament in Ravok led to the siblings being freed from their bonds, and after their miraculous liberation by the lord of Chaos himself, Dominus wasted little time in hunting down his former tormentor. Unfortunately, the Nykan had fled the city when he realized the danger he was in, denying the Kelvic his justice and compelling the contemplative Kelvic to seek peace within himself as much as any man could, or risk losing his mind to the fury he'd allowed to overwhelm him. This peace he eventually found in the hallowed halls of the Ravok's esteemed temple, wherein the revered word of Rhysol proved a balm for his beleaguered and battered soul.

When the grace of god alone is not enough however, Dominus often finds himself seeking the verdant tranquility of the outdoors. Something he'd been denied nearly his entire life in captivity, Dominus now delights in the serenity and calm of the lush wilderness, often escaping to the forests and marshlands around Lake Ravok when not constrained by his Ebonstryfe duties or acting as his combative sister's warden.

With his newfound freedom and his responsibilities as a soldier of Ravok, the young Jackal seeks only to better himself. Studious, composed, and deeply spiritual, Dominus -despite the absurd name bestowed upon him by his former master- is the furthest thing from a warmonger, but also understands that such a thing as harmony is not always possible in service to Rhysol. As a compromise, the jackal takes solace in the fact that he no longer sheds blood on the whim and whimsy of pathetic men, but instead for a greater purpose -A holy purpose- one which he has committed himself to utterly and unwaveringly. Now, only if he could convince his sister to do the same.

 

Unit 5

Name: Sabel Dorne
Race: Human/Dhani Mix
Age: 18
Place of Birth: Kenash
Date of Birth: Winter, 501 AV

Skills:
Summoning [75]
Familiary [70]
Morphing [60]
Alchemy [42]
Astronomy [45]
Subterfuge [35]
Larceny [32]
Cryptography [32]
Short Sword [30]
Small Steel Shield [30]

A young woman whose dreams and determination are matched only by her fierce intellect and stubborn will, Sabel Dorne may not be the greatest warrior or a natural born leader, but what she lacks in martial ability the summoner more than makes up for with the help of her many, many 'friends.'

Born the daughter of a Dhani slave and her Kenashian master, Sabel would have likely never have seen the light of day had her father not loved her mother enough to set aside the shame of her birth. Instead of raising the girl as his own however, the master had her sent away to Ravok where his distant relatives could better see to the child's upbringing. As it happened, those distant relatives turned out to be none other than Galatos clan, one of Ravok's most powerful families, and Sabel soon found herself adopted into the shadowy household with open arms. One would expect that being groomed by the likes of such a feared and distinguished lineage would have afforded the young Dhani many amenities in life while also opening more than a few doors that would have otherwise been slammed shut in her face. On the contrary, most of Dorne's early youth was spent sheltered and secluded from both the world and even her family. Reclusive and soft spoken to a fault, the young sorceress often retreated inward when faced with the troubling prospect of venturing outside and meeting new people. Instead she often opted to engross engross herself in her passion for magic or seek companionship in the strange creatures she was able to summon into our world. When she at last reached of age and was ready to affirm her path in life, many expected the young girl to pursue this peculiar infatuation for the arcane arts as a career, or even follow in the footsteps of her adopted family's business. Instead, Sable shocked the world when she proudly declared she would be joining the Ebonstryfe instead.

This was considered a jest by those who saw the girl as nothing more than introverted bookworm and dabbler of meager magics, but when the mage emerged from her Crucible as one of Rhysol's chosen, it became clear this was no mere passing phase. As a fully fledged soldier of Ravok, Dorne owes all that she has to the clandestine clan that embraced her as one their own, and now that she has finally struck out on her own, the stryfer endeavors to repay her fathomless debt to the Galatos while also balancing her obligation to both god and country as well. A precarious and daunting challenge to say the least, but one made all the more perilous by Dorne's childlike ignorance of the world at large and her generally excruciating naivety.

Still, with the aid of her overly protective and whimsical companion Baz, a Pascid familiar often found dangling as a necklace around her neck, Sabel seems determined to find her own voice in this world and is poised to shatter all expectations to the contrary.

 

Malachai

Name: Malachai Quinn
Race: Human/Drykas
Place of Birth: The Sea of Grass
Date of Birth: Spring, 466 AV
Occupation: Paladin of the Ebonstryfe

Skills:
Voiding [80]
Short Bow [74]
Tulwar [70]
Horse Riding [60]
Horsemanship [60]
Wilderness Survival (Plains, Forest) [55]
Auristics [52]
Leadership [42]
Tactics [40]
Carving [36]
Hunting [25]

Soft spoken, earnest and notoriously levelheaded in the face of danger, Malachai Quinn is an undeniably imposing presence despite his reserved nature. Though seen by some as overly cautious and and even lacking in resolve to do what needs be done, Malachai's men follow him out of sheer respect and hard earned admiration, hanging on his every word not because rank dictates they must, but because loyalty allows them to choose to. Both a sorcerer and a swordsman of great repute, the Paladin has seen combat all across Sylira and beyond, and uses the lessons of not just his past victories to guide his judgement, but also his mistakes, of which there have been many.

Once a high ranking officer within the order of the Ebonstryfe, Malachai Quinn was stripped of his command after being tasked with annihilating another company of soldiers suspected of betraying their oaths and abandoning their sacred duty. As a loyal patriot and warrior who had served his nation for decades, the zealous general carried out his orders without question. The fighting that followed however was more fierce and brutal than predicted, and by the end both companies had been completely decimated. Malachai had lost his entire troop, every man and woman under his command fallen to the blades of those they once called 'brother.' When the Paladin learned that their enemy had never truly been suspected of heresy, but had instead earned the ire and wroth of a high ranking Black Sun operative who'd simply used Malachai's unit as his personal punitive force, it broke the once great general. He condemned his order, his god, and his oath to both, but not before he managed to fling the Black Sun Priest who had gotten his men killed into the deepest, darkest part of the void he could find.

Malachai spent the next three years in the depths of a Ravokian prison, tortured and tormented relentlessly, until at last the day came for his chance at redemption. Assigned a rag tag cadre of convicts and criminals cobbled together from all the worst parts of his city's darkest corners, Malachai and his expendable troops were sent far and wide across Mizahar to fulfill the wicked will of their Ravokian masters. Their purpose was to die for their country, and if they were lucky, their sacrifice would gain them at least some measure of dignity to which they could barter for theirs souls when they met their great god in the afterlife. If they were worthy of atonement however, they would find their way back home, victorious and forgiven.

In the end, of all those who left Ravok under Malachai's command, only one other returned alongside the fallen officer.

Malachai was lauded as a hero upon his triumphant homecoming, and while he accepted his reinstatement as a proud Paladin of the order, it was was clear the man that had returned was not the same that had left. His time both in captivity and abroad had changed him dramatically. No longer motivated by blind faith and holy zeal, Malachai's fiery resolve was now fueled by something else entirely. Something that now drives the Drykas warrior to dangerous and treasonous lengths to see his mysterious goals fulfilled.

[Maore]

Name: Ennoia Nitrozian
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Birthday: Winter 1 494 AV
Occupation: Handler at the KRI
Skills: Animal Handling 31, Intimidation 18, Observation 31, Hypnotism 18, Unarmed Combat 20, Medicine 39
Purpose: Prepare Kelvic slaves for sale at auction, assess physical health of these slaves.
Background: Ennoia's mother was a Drykas slave and his father a Nitrozian doctor. Born from their union, raised on the breast of his husband's wife, Ennoia was all but deprived of knowing his heritage. He did, in time, come to recognize his biological mother, but disregarded her claim as his true mother almost immediately. Not without guile, however, he let her teach him of her culture, let her regale him with stories of horses on a vast plain and freedom outside of this offshore settlement, and he took advantage of her willingness, and then ratted her out to his father. His mother, a beaten and abused wreck of a woman, never recovered from the punishment, and he moved on quite cheerily, aspiring for something greater than what she'd dreamt for him.

A studious young man, Ennoia studied at the Institute for Higher Learning, picked up a few things from his half siblings, and set his eyes on a grand career in taking care of and managing slaves spit out by the KRI. He did have quite the way with animals, and with the good fortune to not easily develop feelings for the livestock pushed out by the breeding programs, he thrived.
Notes: This character speaks Common fluently and Pavi at a basic level. He is found primarily in the KRI but isn't uncommon in Ravok's places of entertainment on his time off. Approved by Gillar. ***

[Maore]

Just some Nitrozian slaves for the city slave list. Household slaves, not necessarily business ones. Will add images when found.

Name: Amiir
Race: Vantha
Sex: Male
Age: 26
Occupation: Slave and Courier at the Nitrozian Estate
Gnosis Ice Reaving 1
Skills: Housekeeping 27, Childcare 12, Singing 24, Philosophy 19, Acrobatics 26, Running 5, Endurance 6, Swimming 21
Background: Being a Vantha man in a time when Morwen has disappeared has taken its toll upon Amiir. He entered slavery only recently while on the run from certain death only a few years ago, placed in chains and sold away at auction to a quiet home on the docks. It was in this home that Amiir found Rhysol--Ravok was protected from the hostilities of the outside world, as a slave his own life wasn't threatened to spite his goddess, and his family provided to him in ways that none had since he'd been on the road. When the family ran on rough times and sold him to pay debts owed to the Nitrozian estate Amiir came into the house accepting of his situation and welcoming new horizons... though he certainly misses the first family he served terribly and sometimes on his earned days off manages to visit them and share bittersweet memories of good times with the children.

Name: Lilanira
Race: Konti
Sex: Female
Age: 45
Occupation: Slave Overseer at the Nitrozian Estate
Gnosis: Chaon 1
Skills: Intimidation 32, Writing 31, Weapon : Cane 26, Organization 12, Persuasion 20, Copying 10, Housekeeping 47
Languages Spoken: Kontinese (Poor), Common, Pavi, Vani (Poor)
Background: Lilanira was born in slavery and it's all she's known. Her role in the Estate is the managing of the household slaves, laying out tasks for them to do on any given day of the week by roster and arranging meal times. As Nitrozian slaves are kept better than what one would expect, Lilanira thrives in her position and enjoys being on a first name basis with many members of the family. She's often put in charge of newer slaves to the Estate and only occasionally helps personally owned slaves get their bearings when their owners request it. She's shrewd, cunning, armed with a sturdy cane to slap the backs of the misbehaving slaves under her management, and peerlessly faithful to Ravok and the family she serves.

Name: Kalista
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 29
Occupation: Slave at the Nitrozian Estate
Skills: Housekeeping 36, Gambling 12, Negotiation 12, Endurance 13, Politics 18, Organization 10
Background: Resentful of the life that led him into shackles, Kalista is a surly, serious, and perpetually angry man. A problem gambler who got into debt with the wrong people in Kenash, Kalista found himself sold at auction to a young Nitrozian man and put straight to work cleaning up after his owners. Resentment flourishes in his bitter heart making Kalista unlikely to form close relationships with anyone among his fellow slaves--and he is even often at odds with many of the more 'grateful' household names, particularly Lilanira (who he goes out of his way to avoid). Kalista is often a slave that works at night cleaning latrines and floors while most of the household sleeps; his attitude prevents him from getting better rotations with the day 'staff' and leaves him to eat at the beginning and end of his duty.