Elf
Pockets of melee dotted the blood-soaked fighting pit. Gladiators circled and fought one another in pockets of frenzied fighting. The crowd roared. The dark elf drove her twin short swords through the torso of a deep dwarf myrmidon and kicked his gurgling form to the floor. Her blood was singing, and she laughed with glee. Daggers flew at her. She rolled and spun. One blade drew a line of blood across her dark-skinned shoulder. She flexed it- only a scratch- but it had been close. The snake-man that had thrown them writhed towards her, his own twin curved blades circling and spinning. The elf met each of the creature’s blades with one of her own, and the two fighters entered a deadly dance together. The snake-man was fast. He fought with an unconventional style. For a while he had the upper hand. But only a while. Bored of the sport, the elf ducked under his thrusting blades and drew two deep wounds across the snake-man’s torso. Reeling, the creature dropped its guard. A scissoring strike with both short swords parted its head from its shoulders. The crowd went wild. Grinning, the dark elf flicked black blood off her blades and looked for her next victim.
The human merchants were making slow progress through the forest. The wagons were overladen, testament to their greed, and labouring. The market town was two day’s travel away, but their current progress meant it would take more than four for them to get there. The ranger watched closely from the high boughs of a tree, his sharp elven eyes taking in every detail. The health of the horses, the compliment and quality of caravan guards, and the degree of respect that was being shown to the sacred forest. A fat merchant sat on the lead wagon. His mouth was always open- either to shovel vast quantities of food in, or to pour out even more drivel. He spoke too loudly, clearly a fan of the sound of his own voice but said nothing of value or importance. The ranger pursed his lips into a thin line. Humans; Ignorant children. The merchant shouted and belched and laughed, oblivious in the centre of his own universe. A greasy chicken leg was polished off in short order and the bone slung carelessly into the undergrowth. The elf’s brow furrowed for a second in irritation. Children. The caravan would be paid a visit that evening. A reminder would be given about respect and correct conduct. It would be heeded and most definitely followed.
The elves are a long-lived and enigmatic race of people. With lives that span many centuries, and even stretch over a millennia, their mind set, and outlook is quite alien to the shorter-lived races. Deeply connected to the magic that flows through the world, an elf feels the subtle vibrations of the arcane in an innate manner. This may never manifest as more than a close affinity with nature or a deep appreciation for lore and learning, but at a greater level, it can open an elf’s mind to the deeper mysteries of magical study and power. Indeed, it is no coincidence that the greatest Mages and spell-casters that the world has seen have all been elves of different backgrounds and persuasions.
Universally slighter in frame than the average human, but taller and significantly more elegant, graceful and beautiful to behold, an elf will always stand out. Their hair can be of any colour- silver, gold, green, even purple or red. Eyes can also vary in colour significantly, a clear indication of Elven kind’s magical nature.
In the opinion of human scholars, there are three distinct cultural groups within elven kind. This is overly simplistic; there are a multitude of different cultures and ‘nations’ within the elven race- distinguishable from one another to elven eyes as easy as a dwarf is from an Orc. To less observant and ignorant observers, however, these subtle differences are completely lost.
Most distinguishable to other races are the dark elves. Dark skinned and silver haired, these subterranean dwelling kin are malevolent and sadistic. They delight in torture and cruelty. Speculation holds that they have links to the Twilight Court of the Fae, but this is unsubstantiated. What is fact, however, is that they are universally feared and reviled.
The wood or silver elves dwell amongst the forests and heathlands- but can be found on the high seas or indeed anywhere where the pull of nature is strong. Most closely attuned to the wild, these kin take it upon themselves to protect the natural world. Rangers and Druids of unparalleled skill, they also make fierce warriors and talented Mages that gravitate to the natural elements most often.
The high, or golden, elves are the last remnants of the great elven cultures from millennia ago. Steeped in magic and possessing memories that harken back to the dawn of time, they are enigmatic creatures that hold deep power and possess inscrutable minds. All high elves have a command over arcane magic's. Swift Warriors, wily Merchants, and deft Rogues can all possess some magical skill. True high elf magic users, be they arcane, natural or divine, hold within themselves power and knowledge that is truly staggering to behold.
Costume Requirements: All Elves are recognisable by their pointy ears whether they are the golden skinned High elves or the black skinned Drow. Elves are seen to be innately magical in nature and shimmery make up is common in some way.
Bonus - None
Weakness – None
Abilities:
Lvl 3 – Gift for the Arcane: Passive effect. +1 Mana Band.
Lvl 6 – Sense the Weave: Passive effect. Choose either the Alchemy or Enchanting profession. All material costs of abilities from this profession are reduced by 1 to a minimum of 1. This modifier applies after any halving done for other Master abilities.
Lvl 9 - Nature’s Affinity: Heal effect. Call: ‘Nature’s Affinity’. Player can meditate for 10 minutes to regain 1 Hit Point.
Lvl 12- Graceful: Dodge effect. Grants 1 Dodge per battle.
Lvl 15- Reverie: Passive effect. From now on, the player gains 1 mana band back for each 5 minutes of meditation.
Lvl 18 – Gift for the Arcane: Passive effect. +1 Mana Band.
Pockets of melee dotted the blood-soaked fighting pit. Gladiators circled and fought one another in pockets of frenzied fighting. The crowd roared. The dark elf drove her twin short swords through the torso of a deep dwarf myrmidon and kicked his gurgling form to the floor. Her blood was singing, and she laughed with glee. Daggers flew at her. She rolled and spun. One blade drew a line of blood across her dark-skinned shoulder. She flexed it- only a scratch- but it had been close. The snake-man that had thrown them writhed towards her, his own twin curved blades circling and spinning. The elf met each of the creature’s blades with one of her own, and the two fighters entered a deadly dance together. The snake-man was fast. He fought with an unconventional style. For a while he had the upper hand. But only a while. Bored of the sport, the elf ducked under his thrusting blades and drew two deep wounds across the snake-man’s torso. Reeling, the creature dropped its guard. A scissoring strike with both short swords parted its head from its shoulders. The crowd went wild. Grinning, the dark elf flicked black blood off her blades and looked for her next victim.
The human merchants were making slow progress through the forest. The wagons were overladen, testament to their greed, and labouring. The market town was two day’s travel away, but their current progress meant it would take more than four for them to get there. The ranger watched closely from the high boughs of a tree, his sharp elven eyes taking in every detail. The health of the horses, the compliment and quality of caravan guards, and the degree of respect that was being shown to the sacred forest. A fat merchant sat on the lead wagon. His mouth was always open- either to shovel vast quantities of food in, or to pour out even more drivel. He spoke too loudly, clearly a fan of the sound of his own voice but said nothing of value or importance. The ranger pursed his lips into a thin line. Humans; Ignorant children. The merchant shouted and belched and laughed, oblivious in the centre of his own universe. A greasy chicken leg was polished off in short order and the bone slung carelessly into the undergrowth. The elf’s brow furrowed for a second in irritation. Children. The caravan would be paid a visit that evening. A reminder would be given about respect and correct conduct. It would be heeded and most definitely followed.
The elves are a long-lived and enigmatic race of people. With lives that span many centuries, and even stretch over a millennia, their mind set, and outlook is quite alien to the shorter-lived races. Deeply connected to the magic that flows through the world, an elf feels the subtle vibrations of the arcane in an innate manner. This may never manifest as more than a close affinity with nature or a deep appreciation for lore and learning, but at a greater level, it can open an elf’s mind to the deeper mysteries of magical study and power. Indeed, it is no coincidence that the greatest Mages and spell-casters that the world has seen have all been elves of different backgrounds and persuasions.
Universally slighter in frame than the average human, but taller and significantly more elegant, graceful and beautiful to behold, an elf will always stand out. Their hair can be of any colour- silver, gold, green, even purple or red. Eyes can also vary in colour significantly, a clear indication of Elven kind’s magical nature.
In the opinion of human scholars, there are three distinct cultural groups within elven kind. This is overly simplistic; there are a multitude of different cultures and ‘nations’ within the elven race- distinguishable from one another to elven eyes as easy as a dwarf is from an Orc. To less observant and ignorant observers, however, these subtle differences are completely lost.
Most distinguishable to other races are the dark elves. Dark skinned and silver haired, these subterranean dwelling kin are malevolent and sadistic. They delight in torture and cruelty. Speculation holds that they have links to the Twilight Court of the Fae, but this is unsubstantiated. What is fact, however, is that they are universally feared and reviled.
The wood or silver elves dwell amongst the forests and heathlands- but can be found on the high seas or indeed anywhere where the pull of nature is strong. Most closely attuned to the wild, these kin take it upon themselves to protect the natural world. Rangers and Druids of unparalleled skill, they also make fierce warriors and talented Mages that gravitate to the natural elements most often.
The high, or golden, elves are the last remnants of the great elven cultures from millennia ago. Steeped in magic and possessing memories that harken back to the dawn of time, they are enigmatic creatures that hold deep power and possess inscrutable minds. All high elves have a command over arcane magic's. Swift Warriors, wily Merchants, and deft Rogues can all possess some magical skill. True high elf magic users, be they arcane, natural or divine, hold within themselves power and knowledge that is truly staggering to behold.
Costume Requirements: All Elves are recognisable by their pointy ears whether they are the golden skinned High elves or the black skinned Drow. Elves are seen to be innately magical in nature and shimmery make up is common in some way.
Bonus - None
Weakness – None
Abilities:
Lvl 3 – Gift for the Arcane: Passive effect. +1 Mana Band.
Lvl 6 – Sense the Weave: Passive effect. Choose either the Alchemy or Enchanting profession. All material costs of abilities from this profession are reduced by 1 to a minimum of 1. This modifier applies after any halving done for other Master abilities.
Lvl 9 - Nature’s Affinity: Heal effect. Call: ‘Nature’s Affinity’. Player can meditate for 10 minutes to regain 1 Hit Point.
Lvl 12- Graceful: Dodge effect. Grants 1 Dodge per battle.
Lvl 15- Reverie: Passive effect. From now on, the player gains 1 mana band back for each 5 minutes of meditation.
Lvl 18 – Gift for the Arcane: Passive effect. +1 Mana Band.
