#non wol characters

[natstolemysocks]

It really depends for Ayo'a, because if it's something that's close enough to the truth, he won't deny it and his reaction will depend on if the rumor triggers a panic attack or not. If they don't, he'll only react if the rumor actively hinders him, if at all. Should a panic attack be triggered, he'll try to 'escape', whatever that means in the moment. If the rumor is an outright lie and bothersome, he'll use his position and connections to gain more information. If he has any right to do something about it himself, he will. If not, chances are his connectiosn will decide to do something about it for him. Best not to anger his carbuncle, bro or extended family.

Lea'li is the bro. Negative rumors are only negative if they don't make him look cool, work against him or hurt his friends and family. Fiercefully protective of the people he likes, he's the type to react quickly if said rumors about him involve any of them. Nateli couldn't care less. She's a chaotic egg. But hurt her friends and you'll have a very angry Ixal on your tail that doesn't play by the rules.

5/4/24

How would your wol(oc) react to negative rumors about themself?

[sealrock]

I think another roster cull is in order

[rhinoyo]

a messy anim of my wol & thancred dancing, referenced from the kekkai sensen ending ^^ <3

[anthropwashere]

Man, I'm replaying Stormblood on a casual alt and the Lyse-Wuk Lamat comparisons absolutely SHIT on Lyse???

Like Stormblood was absolutely Lyse's Story but even at it's most egregious it didn't come anywhere near as In Your Face as Wuk's Story in Dawntrail?? Which is frickin' wild???

Like for real my biggest Stormblood Main Character Complaint is Lyse's first outfit design. Legit all I think about when she's on-screen is how unsupportive her white-ass bra is, and how likely she's dealing with wedgies with her white-ass booty shorts. Fucking for realsies, the rest of her OG outfit is great! But her "I'm 12 and unsure how to deal with puberty" undies-vibes drive me fuckin' nuts.

At least the recent graphic update saved Hien and Gosetsu's outfits? To the point that I'm probably gonna buy Hien's samurai outfit for my Xaela dude who hasn't even unlocked samurai??

Anyway outfit aside, Stormblood MSQ Lyse isn't HALF as frustrating as Dawntrail MSQ Wuk Lamat is, good christ can we stop shitting on Lyse for 5 dang minutes

[fantasy-so-far]

(Count)Down to Dawntrail - Shadowbringers

As Arne reared up, testing the resolve of the young woman before her, Evie found herself standing in yet another shadow.

She stood her ground.

The griffin had been a stalwart soldier in the efforts to reclaim Gyr Abania, but now it was time to return to the family that reared her. Evie’s father was no longer motivated to return to the war-torn country, so it fell to her to bring Arne home.

Failure was not an option.

[motheatenscarf]

God, I hope patch DT msq is good.

[fatedroses]

Your Avendurer! Zenos comics are always so good, and I love how you write him. The touch about him being functionally doomed to immortality is the perfect level of extra spice on top, too. Imo it's the perfect motivation for him to genuinely try to better himself as a person.

Thank you! Tbh the concept has had a hold on my brain since the end of Endwalker, and I'm glad you really enjoy it ^-^

It’s the subtle character development he’s gotten over the course of the story and the potential he has that makes me adore writing Adventurer!Zenos and the journey he has in turn of following the WoL's (Meteor, in my cases) footsteps.

Making himself immortal is actually the main inspiration behind it too, it's a consequence that self-sabotaged his original goal. Maybe eventually becoming a wake up for him that Alisaie was absolutely right and that he may still have an opportunity to not doom himself to being alone forever.

It's actually why I also made him a tank too, having him turn away from being "the man who was willing to destroy the world for his own chase of his desires" to him being willing to throw himself in and to help and protect others even at the cost of himself for a time, a thought that has stuck with me since the theory of him saving WoL with the remote crossed my mind.

[bunnyboybosom]

Emery Starsent

[ID: A viera holds a decorated katana over her head in a defensive stance. She has dark brown skin; long, curly brown hair; and rather wide upright rabbit ears. He is wearing a white tunic under black and gold ornamental armor and a metal headpiece with two horns attached to it. They look at the viewer with a determined expression. end ID.]

Basics

Name: Emery. While "Starsent" is the last name she used when registering with the adventurer's guild, it's only a moniker gifted by a friend.

Nicknames: Ems (she finds this abbreviation offensive)

Age: 27 (as of the end of EW)

Nameday: 25th Sun of the 2nd Astral Moon

Race: Viera - Rava

Gender: Agender (any pronouns)

Orientation: Aceflux

Profession: Wandering adventurer, former field medic, aspiring white mage

Physical Aspects

Hair: Long, curly, dark brown hair.

Eyes: Her pupils appear to blend into her iris like cream in coffee. Her irises are a deep amber.

Skin: Dark, sepia brown. Roughly textured. Additionally, her nose is dark brown, as opposed to the pale pink/white of most viera.

Tattoos/scars: They have a tattoo of a mandala on their back, from which flowering vines extend down their left arm. Because of her face blindness, they apply face paint to themself to better recognize their reflection - simple streaks with complimentary dots on her upper cheeks. She has a large scar under her right breast where she was impaled by a piece of shrapnel after a military accident.

Family

Parents: Her mother was a member of the rabanastre royal guard. Their father was conscripted by the garlean empire prior to the 7th umbral calamity. She doesn't know what became of them, and doesn't remember their names.

Siblings: None.

Grandparents: Deceased.

In-laws and Other: Outside of his travels, they have been living with Lili'a. Neither of them really know what to make of their relationship. Additionally, she had a fling with Kozakura while staying in the Doman Enclave, but had to leave due to urgent circumstances. She hasn't yet really talked to her about it.

Pets: None.

Skills

Abilities: Swordsmanship - he studied in Doma while recovering from a military accident. In combat, she incorporates samurai techniques with those of a lesser known Ishgardian faction. Conjury - after the events of EW base, she is given a white mage jobstone by E-Sumi-Yan (supposedly, it belonged to a former life of hers, a padjal by the name of Ih-Runa-Ran). Training in both Gridania and introducing herself to geomancers of Othard, she is dedicating herself to honing her craft. Trap making and mending - He can make traps for small game or for fresh water fishing. She knows how to use a furnace; how to mend a tunic; and how re-wrap the hilt of a blade with leather straps. Lots of minuet skills that come from being a former soldier.

Hobbies: Hunting - she often accepts mark bills from Clan Centurio as both light sport and a means of income. Occasionally, he'll pair up with larger hunting parties to track down higher ranking (thus more dangerous) creatures. "Cafe-ing" - the Cerulean Lotus being one of his go to spots, he often enjoys going to late night cafes, reading and just existing in the ambiance. They often won't order more than a coffee and a pastry. Reading - spoiled for choice of books, with being granted access to the Noumenon while staying at the Vairemont household, most of the book keepers have stopped trying to keep her out of the areas reserved for collegiate staff and students. Some question whether she has a goal in mind, and perhaps she did at one point, but the purpose of her research diluted with time. Now, she simply reads to, well, read.

Traits

Most Positive Trait: Idealistic.

Most Negative Trait: Reclusive.

Likes

Colours: Rich, vibrant purples; gold; earthy greens

Smells: COFFEE!!, fresh water brooks, new paper

Textures: leather, glass marbles, coffee grounds, spun wool

Drinks: coffee (without milk) and a little brown sugar or molasses, green tea, carrot shakes.

Other Details

Smokes?: Recreational, by pipe.

Drinks?: Not really, doesn't enjoy the taste of most alcohol.

Drugs?: Not really.

Mount Insurance: He has a Doman Falcon named Toro.

Been Arrested?: Fortunately, no.

---

Tagged by @cindernet-explorer (thank you love!)

Not going to tag anyone this time (as I already did on Lili'a's post). If you have more characters you'd like to do this for, feel free to say I tagged you!

[dawnslight-aegis]

I have another lizard named Zaya, and she got eternal bonded today!

(Daava the giant sweet lizard man belongs to @foamofthe-sea)

[cimarraskylark]

Once Upon a Knight...

Since I've introduced Cimarra's mother... Perhaps now is the time to introduce her father as well. Feeling a tad melancholic tonight and his lore is a bit of a comfort to me. ^-^

"Once, I was Ennil. Now, I am Kyrel Silvernight, a Dark Knight… and your father, if you will permit me to be."

A tried and true Wood-Warder, unwavering and solitary, until the day he first spotted a young Cimarra during a mating visit to the village. He recognized her, not only because of how much she looked like her mother, but because of how she also resembled him in the way she moved. From then on, he scanned the village for her during every visit, just to see her as she grew, though he never approached nor spoke to her.

When he didn’t see her during his first visit since her disappearance, worry made him seek out her mother in order to ask after her. Because of his persistence and the fact that Cimarra was exiled and no longer considered Viera, Kyrel was also banished. However, when he learned the truth of what Cimarra had done, contrary to the nature of a true Wood-Warder, Kyrel felt proud of his daughter for having had the strength to choose her own path.

Banished from the village, he chose to set out and look for Cimarra, hoping to discover something of her fate. Little did he know, she’d not only disappeared with Hadrian, but had been forgotten by all after the Calamity. All but Hadrian, Minfilia… and Kyrel.

Having been a lancer when a Wood-Warder, upon arriving in Ul'dah during his search for Cimarra, Kyrel is drawn to the sword, training as a gladiator, then paladin. Later, when he wanders to Ishgard, he crosses paths with a Dark Knight and finally finds the power he sought in order to protect his loved ones. With thoughts of his daughter as his support and guide, Kyrel becomes a skilled Dark Knight and continues his search for Cimarra.

At 98 years old, Kyrel has seen his fair share of combat while a Wood-Warder. It gives him an experienced eye and skilled body, as well as a mature air about him.

True to his Wood-Warder nature, Kyrel is extremely protective of those dear to him. He will not hesitate to step in to protect Cimarra if she needs it, whether she is willing to see him as her father or not. However, he has no wish to force the relationship on her, leaving it up to her if she will let him into her life. Nor will he control her or dictate how she should live. He simply wishes to be there and know she's living happily, loved and safe.

I hope you enjoyed learning about this fierce bun. I know I did when he finally told me about himself. 🥰💕🐇

[bananarose]

FFXIV Write - Day 24 "Bar"

Characters: Lavandin Fi'el (non-wol oc) Banana Rose (wol oc)

Length: 428

Kind of a weird little two-parter, some musing on what Lav was up to during Shadowbringers.

~~

Lavandin followed the muffled sounds of loud music, hesitantly opening and stepping through the large doorway, immediately met with the full volume of the music and the smell of alcohol and perfume from within. The place was called The Beehive, and it seemed to be Eulmore’s most popular hangout spot. Lav however was not here for the libations and entertainment, in fact he was meant to be the entertainment. Offering to provide his skills here is how he got into Eulmore in the first place, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous about it. 

The job had been explained to him very simply, he was meant to dance and entertain the patrons, occasionally stepping in to help at the bar if necessary. He had some experience, or else he would have tried finding some other way into the city, but he feared it wouldn’t be enough. Everything was so different here on the first. A lot of things were similar of course, but it was still a whole other world.

And he was stuck here, for the time being anyway. He wasn’t the only one, as far as he knew most of the core group of scions had been whisked away here as well, and had all dispersed to different areas of the shard. He hadn’t really known what he was going to do at first, but he was going to try to make the most of this… weird situation. ~

Banana had been tasked with exploring their new “home”, which actually meant gathering information on Eulmore as a potential enemy. She certainly didn’t trust anyone here, and if she was going to succeed in saving the first then she would need all the information she could get. She set out to explore the city, checking out the vendors around the crystal plaza first before making her way through another hallway. There was supposed to be some sort of bar or something back this way… 

She stepped through the two large double doors to a decently sized bar and nightclub of sorts, glancing over the rich citizens of Eulmore lounging on couches and sipping their likely overpriced drinks. She moved her gaze to the stage, where dancers in varying degrees of dress were moving their hips, dancing around poles that went from floor to ceiling. 

She spotted a familiar viera on one of the small side stages, dancing on a platform with a spiral staircase leading up to it. She locked eyes with him, both of them sharing a mirrored shocked expression.

“Lavandin???”

[misedejem]

I’m replaying Shadowbringers ending on my alt and like… fuck

There is no zone in any game I’ve ever played that hits me the way that the final zone for this expansion does

This is the third time I’ve done it now and it never fails to amaze, nor to make me want to cry

[thefinalwitness]

14. is there a sound that drives them crazy? ( like the sound of nails on a chalkboard, styrofoam rubbing together, cardboard boxes, etc?)

(SORRY IM SO LAAAAAATE ive been fibro hurty again v_v)

l'aiha actually really hates the sound of snow crunching underfoot! it irritates the shit out of her. it might be slightly informed by the fact she hates snow and the cold in general, but trekking around in coerthas and garlemald were incredibly unpleasant for her, and that sound didn't help. :'D

aside from that, she doesn't like it when people chew with their mouth open, or tap their pencils on desks and tables and such... lots of little every day noises can get on her nerves when she's in a bad mood. she has extremely sharp hearing, so everything is intensified in a way that's sometimes difficult to deal with. she's learned a weird trick where she 'charges' her aether, internally, without releasing it—this is something she learned as one of her exercises to help it not stagnate, but it also produces an internal sound, not unlike blood rushing, that allows her to 'drown out' irritating external sounds.

y'shtola can visibly see when l'aiha does this because of her aethersight, and thinks it's INCREDIBLY funny. especially in situations where someone is talking and pissing her off, and l'aiha just starts ignoring them by churning her own aether. similar comical effect to when somebody tells the guy on the tv to shut up and mutes them.

tangentially related, but i think l'aiha has a bit of an auditory processing disorder too. she can't mentally 'filter' sounds based on importance, so she hears everything at the same volume—and because her actual hearing is so good, that's a lot of stuff! it means it can be hard to reach her in loud or crowded spaces, but it also makes her REALLY GOOD at picking up new sounds through the din.

for example, she can hear people moving even in the middle of busy conversations; so she's really good at picking up sneaky intruders even at moments when she should be too busy to hear them. or, an example based on my own life with an auditory processing disorder: she can hear linkpearls and other electronic alerts go off, even when others in a conversation don't. (the number of times i've let people know a timer went off mid-conversation because i was the only one who heard it LOL.)

[placesyoucallhome]

FFXIVWrite #15- Portentous

(( Endwalker spoilers ))

The sky was a sickly green color, wind whipping up foam off the waves and stripping trees of leaves, and Canum was sipping coffee as he stared out the window. 

Most of the company was huddled at the kitchen bar, the smell of eggs and bacon and ishgardian toast hovering in the room, an unusual choice for dinner, but it hadn’t been a usual sort of past few days. Everyone was tense, terse, even Nemo had been picked up from his shack out in north western La Noscea, though he sat stock still on his chair as if he’d already been shell shocked. 

Well, Canum supposed he had. 

“The storm will pass before the night is through.” Ruhka hummed, still poking at sizzling bacon after the few sitting at the bar flinched. 

“Ah don’ think it’s th’ storm we’re worryin’ about, Cap’n.” The seawolf woman grumbled. 

“There’s always some world’s end happening, it feels like. Is this what the calamity was like?” The au ra man next to her leaned around to glance at Nemo, earning a smack from both Ruhka and the roe. 

“No. Cartineau was a singular fight.” Nemo still mumbled, “This is. This is star wide, isn’t it?” 

Ruhka sighed, turning back to his crew, “It’s spreading. According to the reports I’ve intercepted. All the way out to the far east at least. Reports of red skies in Garlemald and Thavnair, people being turned inta beasts with no way to revert them. Somethin’ called Akasha. And apparently Sharlayan has a solution.” 

“Oh that bodes well. Not the scions of the whatever?” Canum huffed over his mug. 

“Well. Apparently they’re there too. I don’t know. Salt called, she said the forum declared an evacuation.” The captain shrugged.

“And evacuation of… Sharlayan?” Nemo asked, but no that didn’t seem like a right response to any of them. The scholars had already done that once though, to be fair. 

“Uh, no. Of the star.” 

Blank stares across the bar, and Ruhka looked particularly grim and frankly, unsure. 

“To where?” Canum seemed to gather wits first, setting his coffee down and glaring at the suncat. 

“The… moon.” 

More blank stares, incredulous silence. 

“Before anyone asks, no I can’t get into Sharlayn right now. Yes I am working on it. Yes it has been done before, obviously as the Allagans got a fucking moon up there themselves, right?” 

“Their solution. Is to go to the fucking moon.” Nerys blinked, her fingers twitched, if it weren’t storming Canum was sure she’d already be on her way to light up a smoke. 

“Why moons? Why is it always moons? Why is it when things go to shit, a moon is involved?” Nemo hissed, head in hands, tail fur standing on end and ears flattened back, “Are moons always made for some impending apocalypse?” 

“Does that make you an ill omen, mooncat?”

Canum would later admit, he did certainly deserve the fireball thrown in his face, but he was still not going to sand out the scorch marks in the floorboards.

[storms-path]

WoLyse Week 2024: Day 3 - Out Late

Lyse had always had a hard time keeping still. She tried, especially during the Scions’ various meetings, or when Papalymo used to scold her for bouncing her feet all the time, or more recently during the fledgling republic of Ala Mhigo’s nigh-endless discussions and debates. But it was always hardest for her when she was waiting for something. Or, more usually, someone. But here and now, waiting for the Scions to return from the edge of the universe itself, she didn’t stand a chance. She was lucky she was able to contain herself to merely pacing. She wanted to run. She wanted to spread wings and fly to them. But she couldn’t. So she had to wait.

She was wearing the carpet of Commander Aldynn’s sparsely-decorated room down to its very fibres, well aware that Raubahn was balefully tracking her. But she could also see the tightness in his shoulders, the worry lines around his eyes, the fear he didn’t show in his face reflected instead in his body. He, M’naago and Fordola had spent the last several days hunting down blasphemies as they appeared, stopping them from creating chain reactions of despair and rallying people around the banner of hope as best they can. Lyse herself had been doing the same in Gridania. People still remembered her and Papalymo there. It was the least she could do. But now there were no further cases appearing, and the skies had cleared around the world. The Scions had won. But still they worried. Still the pit in Lyse’s gut yawned like the Destroyer himself had carved it out.

They were, ostensibly, there to take stock. To go over the losses from the recently averted calamity and see what could be done for the survivors. But neither of them had even touched the various reports, even as M’naago had periodically appeared to deliver more reports, or keep them abreast of the goings on, or to tell Lyse that no, nobody had heard anything, she’d just need to wait like the rest of them. As if Lyse hadn’t been waiting since the moment Arashi had said goodbye to her. As if she hadn’t watched her heart and soul vanish into the sky on a modern marvel of technology while the world burned around her. As if…

A knock at the door jolted the pair out of their stupor. A knock which became a bang which became M’naago bursting through the door as Lyse was moving to open it, clearly out of breath but eyes bright with excitement. “I just got word from Mistress Tataru! The Ragnarok’s hailing Old Sharlayan. They’re almost here!” Then she was gone, with a red blur in hot pursuit and Raubahn left to struggle to his feet and lumber after them.

Lyse made it to the Royal Menagerie first, her nimble feet making short work of the halls and doors and stairs. M’naago was close behind, having to stop and lean against the doorway so she could catch her breath. Raubahn was slightly slower, his age catching up with him but his eyes full of steely determination. Together the three of them stood, watching the crimson sunset intently for signs of life, until…

“There!” M’naago’s keen eyes spotted the glint of silver first, mere moments after it came into view. Lyse watched intently as the ship came into view, descending until it was clearly visible, if rather small, against the scarlet sky. Suddenly it was all too much to contain; Lyse found herself whooping and leaping and waving in total, abject relief. They had done it, really done it! They were coming home! A roar of delight to Lyse’s right surprised her before she realised it was Raubahn. His usually grim face was split open with joy, the scars criss-crossing his face fading away before his radiant happiness. M’naago was cheering too, laughing in delight. Then from far below a horn sounded through the twilight, followed by another, then another, then another. An old call, not heard since before the fall of the mad king. A signal to all weary wanderers finding their way back to Ala Mhigo.

Welcome home.

Then the ship was gone, vanishing behind the palace and taking the momentary elation with it. Lyse’s heart wouldn’t stop thundering in her chest. The ship was on its way to Old Sharlayan, but was Arashi alright. Were the Scions alright? Her worst fears still lingered uncomfortably in her heart. The mental image of Arashi’s body coming home to Ala Mhigo, so still and so, so cold. She had to find out. She had to know. She had to-

No. No, she had duties here. Responsibilities. Her people needed her. They had suffered far worse. They would need strong, stable leadership in the days to come. They needed her. She had to put aside her fears and step forward. But it tore her apart to do so. Not knowing, only fearing, she’d felt it before and almost had the worst come to pass. It wouldn't happen again, it couldn’t, surely, surely…

A solid hand landed on her shoulder. Lyse’s world had narrowed into a slit, but the sudden hefty touch drew her back to reality. Raubahn gave her a tight smile. “Go to her, lass. We’ll hold the fort until you return.” His posture betrayed not a single hint of the anxiousness she knew he must be feeling. Years of leading and commanding lent him the strength he needed. Still…

“I want to, gods know I want to, but I can’t. You need me. Ala Mhigo needs me. I can’t just go vanishing off to the other end of the world because I’m worried!”

Another hand landed on her other shoulder, this one more slender and not as steady, but still as warm and supportive as it could be. “Go, Lyse. You’ll be of no help to anyone when you’re this wound up. Bring her back to us. Rhalgr knows we could use the help!” Lyse wanted to argue. She wanted to stay, if only to prove that she could. But it was no use. Her friends and allies were the push she needed. Lyse concentrated, focusing on an almost-forgotten aetheryte she had visited so long ago. Then, in a blink, she was gone.

She still had time to wait, after she reunited with Tataru and Krile and avoided giving Fourchernault the stink-eye despite her impulse. But nobody minded her pacing there. And soon enough the Ragnarok was pulling into harbour, sleek as silver and silent as a ghost. For once Lyse wasn’t quick enough to be first to greet the victorious Scions home. But she didn’t mind. Tataru, Krile and Lyse all waited with baited breath as the landing hatch hissed open, revealing…

Lyse’s breath caught in her throat. Thancred was the first visible, bandaged and bruised but otherwise hale and healthy. But he had Arashi slung over his shoulder, the Warrior of Light looking mere ilms away from Nald’Thal’s door. Her armour was cut and slashed to pieces, covered with what Lyse could only assume was blood. Her left arm was hanging limp against her body, clearly broken. She was pale, breathing shallowly, eyes unfocused.

[THUNDERCLAP]

Lyse was halfway up the ramp before anyone could stop her. She couldn’t focus properly, couldn’t see clearly enough. She was crying, she realised, eyes so full of tears she couldn’t see. Arashi managed to look her in the eye enough to smile in what she probably thought was a reassuring way, but it only made Lyse’s heart pound faster. “What happened? Thancred, what did she do? Weren’t you meant to protect her? Wasn’t Y’shtola supposed to keep her out of trouble? Answer me!”

“Zenos…” was Arashi’s barely audible reply. Her voice was a ragged whisper. “But you... should see the... other guy.” Then consciousness left her, the au ra falling completely limp. Lyse caught Arashi before she could slip entirely out of Thancred’s grip. Lyse tried to ignore how suddenly slick and red her hands were from just touching Arashi’s ruined armour. She was vaguely aware of Thancred’s sudden panicked shouts, vaguely aware of Y’shtola and Urianger and Alphinaud crowding around them, of Fourchenault himself whirling in and directing various other scholars. Someone, she didn’t know who, tried to pull Arashi from her arms. She refused. She wouldn’t let them take her away. She wouldn’t be left alone. She-

“Lyse, it’s alright.” Thancred’s voice brought her back again. The world sharpened back into focus. “We managed to stabilise her on the way here, but she’s exhausted herself. We’re going to take her somewhere she can rest. But you need to let her go for now. Can you do that?”

Lyse nodded mutely. It felt like the weight of the world replaced Arashi’s slight frame as she was gently pulled away. But Thancred stayed with her, joined soon after by Y’shtola, then Alisaie. The poor elezen looked almost as bad as Lyse felt, all red-eyed and trembling. Then she caught Lyse looking and rubbed her eyes vigorously. Refusing to let herself appear weak as always. They’d somehow made their way to the Last Stand, perched on one of the benches as chaos whirled around them.

“She’s going to be alright.” Y’shtola now, by far the most well-composed of the three. Still struggling to contain her shaking. Later, she’d say it was exhaustion from expending so much of her aether. In the moment, though, she was more honest with herself. “She saved us all. She ended Zenos once and for all. The world will repay her for that. We won’t let her fall here.”

Lyse tried to believe it. But the world was a yawning void of grief and despair. But there was nothing else she could do. So she had to wait.

[halonicheart]

This Duskwight man was found on the brink of death, crawling out of the chasm known as The Palace of the Dead. Adventurers and Wood Wailers alike in the area got quite the fright… it wasn’t until he was in the hands of local healers that the handkerchief clutched in his hand was finally noticed. It was nice enough, silk with lace trimming and embroidered with the initials “D.N.”

The man was unconscious for several days. Not a single person came forward to identify him. The ones caring for him had no choice but to wait for him to awaken. When he finally did he could only remember his given name- Dorian and nothing else. Some tried to guess his last name, tossed around a few guesses in hopes of any of them seeming familiar. None did. In attempt to be humorous, albeit perhaps a touch insensitive, one suggested he be given the surname Netherfell, as if to insinuate he came from the nether realm. No one expected him to take a liking to it.

And so he lived his days as Dorian Netherfell. He made no genuine attempts to regain his lost memories.

Dorian can be described as odd and a bit distant, off putting but well meaning and morbidly curious for all things- well, morbid. Though he isn’t a loner by choice, he isn’t entirely bothered by it either. Almost as if he were content to not really have a single true friend, just acquaintances who tolerated him. For reasons he can’t even remember, he finds he is rather wary around strangers and terribly mistrusting of adventurers. He admits there might be something hypocritical about it, given he could very well have been an adventurer himself prior his memory loss.

Before he was Dorian Netherfell, he was Dorian Nicolette. He was still off and a bit distant, a bit off putting but well meaning and still morbidly curious. The major difference is he was very, very lonely. So much so he clung to the two people who took pity on him. Those “friends” of his weren’t particularly genuine. Truly kind at first, albeit they treated him like a child at times, but that soon gave way to exhaustion, annoyance, contempt…

They ended up bringing him along their adventures, not out of want but no choice, and truly grew sick of him. Their adventures took them to the Shroud where rumors about the Palace of the Dead spoils and specters reached their ears. The two formulated a plan, it was perfect, they knew better than anyone Dorian would love to go to this place. So they will go and leave him for dead. No one would find him save for the beasts wandering the place.

What they did not expect was for it to back fire. The “friends” died down there, mauled by something much more sinister than the mind could conjure. Somehow, Dorian managed to get away, the price for a chance to live being his memories, likely due to trauma from the betrayal as well nearly dying. The hurt ran so deep that even with blotted memories it permeated through his entire body.

Don’t trust adventurers. Don’t trust people. The kindness of Lovette and company terrifies him. Makes him want to rip his skin off, make the itch go away… but being alone is boring, doing the same thing day in and out is boring and he’s terribly curious of what may come if he follows them around.

Soon as he can muster up the courage to leave the Shroud, leave the Palace of The Dead, leave the place he’s drawn to in ways he wishes he wasn’t… soon… he hopes.