An aurum dwarf that makes their living being a cleric of the Child of Catastrophe. He is an unattractive, adult man with a large build and is of short height. He has glowing blue eyes with an electrum shell and nickel inlays. He is dressed in garments typically found worn by the Firebark Treefolk of Ifirsine. When you make eye contact, you feel a great sense of loss. His voice is low pitched and his speech is accented. He is in a good mood at the moment. They seem to have an unambitious personality.
It’s not easy being a cleric for one of the Infinite Children associated with something negative. You can find Pastors for the Child of Love, Peace or Growth everywhere. Even Clergy spreading the messages of Greed, Pain and War had their purpose.
Yttron was a cleric of a Child that generally nobody would worship openly: the Child of Catastrophe.
One day while traveling as a prophet he had come across a village that was mostly abandoned. The buildings were bleak, the people were weary and there was a church; nothing wondrous, but a quaint building made up of gray stone blocks starting to show its age.… Read the rest
A Majin that makes their living being an adventurer, with skills as a Totemist. He is a plain looking, youthful man with a large build and is of normal height. He has orange eyes with a green radiance and white burlap wraps. He is dressed very flamboyantly, drawing attention. Has a large scar, undoubtedly from some sort of beast. Intensely curious about psionics and constantly bugs any user of psionics with questions. Believes they are possessed and have scars on their skin that seem to have been self-inflicted. His voice is medium pitched and his speech is mumbled. He is in a very bad mood at the moment. They seem to have an expedient and curious personality.
“I dun scar up like you do, lil ones.” He mused over the several children in front of him, all of which were captivated with the spiritual forms of several animals that had manifested before him. “My blood ain’t like yours.”
One of the human girls looked up. “My papa says your kind is magic!” The Majin chuckled while stroking the visible, almost glowing scar on his chest. “Maybe. Once. Lon’ time ago.” He moved his finger in a circular motion as if he was luring something towards him and the totemic apparitions vanished, much to the disappointment of the children.… Read the rest