The World of Volkren [Chrys & Eph]

Chrysothemis

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Basics
Full Name: Asher ??? ???
Age: 19
Class: Vagrant mage
Alignment: chaotic good
Deity: ???

Physical

Race: Tiefling
Body Type: Thin
Height: 5'9"
Complexion: Pale
Hair: Violet-black
Eyes: Blue
Handedness:
Scars: ???

Mental

Personality: ???
Mannerisms: ???

Likes:
* ???

Dislikes:
* ???

History
Family
* A demon, presumably
* A human, presumably

Background
Born of a high ranking Demon Lord and an unknown human, Asher is known generally as a magic wielding irritant.

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## Basics
### Full Name: larriel stubbletow

### Age: 22

### Class: minstrel

### Alignment: neutral good

### Deity: ???

## Physical

### Race: elven

### Body Type: lanky

### Height: 5'11

### Complexion: tan

### Hair: dark brown

### Eyes: hazel

### Handedness: left

### Scars:

## Mental

### Personality: ???

### Mannerisms: ???

### Likes:
* ???

### Dislikes:
* ???

## History
### Family
*Maribeth Stubbletow - mother
*Dariel Stubbletow - father

### Background
known for being an accidental tourist to many regions but would always ends up back in Butterbush. in his native village, many citizens note him as the youth role model, and the elderly and halflings seem to be the most fond of him.

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In the vibrant region of Southfay lies a humble village named Butterbush.

Butterbush features many verdant parks and orchards, surrounded by vast fields and farmland. Golden wheat fields blow gently behind its sparse cluster of cottage homes. A river crosses over to the north and is about an hour walk from the north end of the village. Wildlife is lively around these parts and many adventurers who stumble in are often lost or injured. Butterbush is known for its patriotism and is lead by a priest of the local religion. People of diverse races live together mostly in harmony.

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Rumors

Wandering the dirt paths throughout the village, you pass by two halfling women laughing outside the local tavern. They are loud and look like they've had a little too much to drink, but you overhear part of their conversation:

"Did you hear what the priest said last week? He told us of a possibility of a demon living among us. At first it was absurd, but then that's when I realized.. he must've finally met my husband!"

Chrysothemis

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Asher sat by a pond at the edge of town, glaring down at his reflection as he patted at his temples. Every time he lifted a palm, a spurt of purple flame sparked underneath, which the boy would quickly squash back down with a groan, seemingly with no injury to himself, even as the flame licked between the cracks in his fingers. This had been a morning ritual since the beginning of the month, awaking in a panic as he struggled to hide the new... curse? Defects? What kind of person has a mutation that makes such a thing appear?! Still, after a few minutes of this, and with a lot of effort, the flame eventually managed to sputter out. He sighed, shoulders relaxing as he looked around, thankful no one had left the village to see just yet.

With that out of the way, the boy stood and dusted himself off, then turned to enter town once again. He stretched his arms behind his head, following the mostly empty streets in the early morning until he had reached the inn that was currently his home. This was his second week in Butterbush, and from what he heard at the tavern, he'd need to be careful... But maybe he was over-worried, maybe that rumor wasn't about it... After all, he wasn't a demon! He just... had an unfortunate issue at the moment. And he was a mage, and most evangelical types hated his kind anyway.

Yeah, that was it...

Asher caught himself spacing out, and quickly shook his head as he tried to gather his thoughts, but his anxiety made it difficult. As he paced through the streets, his mana began to stir up, creating unnatural wind that knocked at wooden signs and slammed loose tools and debris against walls and the ground. He didn't notice, his gaze blankly ahead as his mind whirled, but a few passersby began to complain about the sudden wind that threw autumn leaves in their face.

RP Search status... Open!

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Outside the door of a shabby stone cottage, wind chimes sounded. A shadowy figure grumbled from the corner of the room, turning in bed. It wasn't long before the figure sat up sluggishly and rubbed an eye. What woke him up this time? Why has he been so unlucky these past few weeks? Collecting his thoughts, he got up and decided to start the day early. There wasn't anything else to do anyway.

Larriel shut the door behind him and walked into dark, and eventually into the fenced-in garden connected to his home. He couldn't see much aside from the lit lantern he brought out and while it was a little windy out, he didn't seem to mind. He wanted to check how his new secret project was doing. Once at an empty patch, he kneeled and brought the lantern closer to the small bulb peeking out from a blanket of soft soil. This made him grow a smile, caressing the baby stem with pride. Just a bit more, he reminded himself. With a hushed voice, he began singing elven words to the ground. He didn't know what the song meant, but he knew it meant something to his crops. He sang with a smirk on his face, prolonging the melodies dearly.

Larriel's pointed ear flicked at a sound coming closer in the distance. They were footsteps! Ditch the lantern! Act natural!
"Meow" he peeped frantically moving on all fours to the shadows skirting his house. Nobody saw him, right? His eyes quietly rose up from behind the wheelbarrow to watch the footsteps pass by the other side of his land. Who is that? The silhouette looked like Markas' from three doors down, but something looked different about him. What was he doing out at this hour? Whatever the reason, he just wanted to wait it out so he could go back to his work in peace.

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