Name: Thyra Vandilsdottir

Ancestry/Heredity: Granddaughter of Thorunn Skuldson and Sven Guntherson, sister to Trondheim Vandilson.

Desired Organizational Affiliations: None

Character history: Born to Vandill Thorunnson and Ásvé Svensdottir a few years after their son Trondheim, Thyra was blessed with a good upbringing in the fold of Clan Tiddjägern. However, not all blessings are immediately appreciated. Her paternal grandmother thought to stem Thyra's wilder ways as a child, bringing in Lillith Hart to assist in providing Thyra with a more structured learning environment. Within the first year of tutoring Thyra, the middle-aged Lillith expired, most likely from exasperation with the willfull child. Despite her family's every effort to mold her into a "proper" young Imperial woman, Thyra remained wild, often running into the forests nearby for days at a time.

Due to her eccentric ways, she has never been sought for a position at court, or in any other organization of good standing, even with her noble bloodline. She has received no offers of marriage, and she really is quite pleased with both facts.

Currently, she wanders from the Clan's home to the Tyrean village to her brother's home at will, following whatever direction the wind blows.

Character summary: Thyra Vandilsdottir proves that some habits do not always "skip a generation". The wildness of her mother burns brightly in Thyra's veins and she provides a polar opposite to Trondheim's quieter, more studious nature, and yet in some ways, brother and sister are very much alike. Sharing Trondheim's interests in ancient secrets and lore of the unseen, Thyra takes her interest a step further.

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Name: Kachina

Ancestry/Heredity: Mhordul "orphan"

Desired Organizational Affiliations: None

Character history: Kachina grew up to a abusive father, and an uncaring mother. They were outlaw mhordul forced to travel the land surviving anyway they could even off the scraps of the empire. Her father one day tried to push it to far. He attempted to take advantage of his daughter not knowing the demon that lay inside her.

That was the moment the world went red. Not that vibrant red, but a crimson red that stained her face and ran down her arms. It was warm, inviting, comforting, and she loved it. That delicious red, its savory sweetness dripping down her face and into her mouth, and it was quiet. No more screaming, yelling, or hitting only silence. As she cleared the blood away from her eyes she saw them laying there motionless, the pathetic look on there faces could only make her chuckle with glee at what she had done. She slinked out of town and bathed herself in a river nearby finding her way into the mhordul fued and passing herself off as a poor orphan needing assistance. She grew strong and learned much there, but her world was much bigger then that village and she was begining to feel cramped.

So off she went into the world. She traveled for years disguising herself and assimilating into other societies learning their ways and mannerisms, she found it fun.She mastered many of their tounges, and began masquerading in their societies even better. She lived in the shadow of society her true face never shown to anyone, and her name hidden for so long she had almost forgotten it. Many a widow now exists because coin fell into her hands, and many a donor is dead from a widow's bank box, and thirst for revenge. She was a dark vixen a loner by nature, and savage by trade. She never showed mercy, and never took prisoners... that is until she met him.

It was a stormy night that seemed to come from nowhere. She ran seeking shelter from the elements only to come up to a small tent village. Everyone lay dead, mutilated and tortured. The trees and stones were even destroyed around this place. Upon the ground in the center of the destruction lay a man bloody and beaten his body wrecked as if he had battled a colossus, but he was alive. It baffled her how someone could have lived through that, but the scars on his body showed a warrior not fresh to the field. She nurtured him to health if for no other reason then to know what had happened there. Sitting in the shadows for so long she had become curious, and that curiosity led her to her fate. He said his name was Hania, and in his eyes she saw the same thirst she had for the blood of the enemy. She saw a warrior not a coward who sat behind a fort blocking out the world, but a nomad a true mhordul traveling the land and living from its spoils. And in his arms she found something she had never felt before. She found love.

Over those years they traveled many a life was lost, and many a coin made. And as their love grew so did the death toll.

Character summary: Kachina is a vixen of death hell brought the earth and trapped in a female form. Her thirst for glory and battle is almost inhuman. With Hania by her side she fears nothing in this world or the next, and is not afraid to enter that next plain with him.

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Name: Aleksander Corvinus

Ancestry/Heredity: son of Yuri Corvinus, son of Vladimir Corvinus, son of Nikita Corvinus, son of Mikhail Corvinus, son of Damon Corvinus, son of Victor Corvinus.

Desired Organizational Affiliations: House Corvinus, The Imperial Academy of Arts and Crafts.

Character history: Born to a bloodline that made itself notorious for its reckless rulers, Aleksander, in his youth, had a tendency to display the trademarked impetuosity of the Corvinus. The wealth and name of his family ensured him a very decent education both in the ways of the sword and of the pen, although he ignored the latter until her was well into his thirties.

During his early years, he attained a certain amount of renown as a swordsman, winning a few minor tourneys and events. However, that skill was mostly used to fight for his life after invariably getting found with some other man's wife.

That leisurely period soon came to an end, as his father decided to deny him an allowance until he made something of himself in life. Thus deprived of his inheritance, the young Corvinus found no other alternative than to enlist to serve his country. Much to his dismay, however, he quickly discovered that there was no easy to climb the military ladder. To make matters worse, at that time (1051), began the conflict between the Empire and a large group of bandits led by the Silver Tongues, who had managed to completely compromise every single Imperial trade route.

Two years later, the war was over and the victorious soldiers came back home. Many of them, however, never made it back, having fallen in battle. Among the faceless piles of dead bodies, lied one that was hastily identified as Aleksander.

There was much grief in his house and for fifteen years his parents and relatives prayed for his soul, thinking him dead, until the night before what would have been his thirty seventh birthday. Indeed, that night, it was almost as if his mother's prayers had managed to bring him back from the grave. At least, that was the general feeling when the front door was open to give a lone traveler some shelter from the storm that raged outside.

It is needless to say how speechless they were when the stranger presented himself as Aleksander. They had trouble beliving he was still alive and even to this day he is looked upon with a mix of reverance and fear, being a man who was said to be dead for fifteen years. That fact, however, does not bother Aleksander at all and he seems to use it to his advantage, playing along with the mystery that surrounds his name.

In his early forties, he has become a knowledgeable and loquacious man. Although it is often the object of his books and paintings, he refuses to talk openly about the period in which he was away from home. What is quite evident, however, is that that time was well spent, for he has what seems to be the accumulated knowledge of a few lifetimes.

For better or for worse, his relatives soon gave up on inquiring him about those years, being happy just to have him back. His father, before dying a year ago, placed him in charge of the House, after giving him heartfelt speech of recognition that brought everyone that witnessed it to tears. Aleksander frequently mentions that day and how much it meant for him to receive not only the ring bearing his family's crest, but also the respect of his father.

Character summary: Since he returned from his mysterious exile, Aleksander has caught the attention of much of the high echelon of Vhalurian Society. His pitoresque tales and paintings have quickly become a highly coveted possession among the nobility. Most doubt the veracity of his works, deeming it impossible that he could have been in so many adventures in fifteen years and came out completely unscathed.

Regardless of those who see him as an impostor, Lord Corvinus has somehow, in a manner of a few years, managed to reach the position of Rector of Arts in the Imperial Academy, after the most regrettable death of his predecessor. He is a well-known figure in the city, equally famous for his drinking and gambling as for the fine jewelry, paintings and books he creates.