Do I have to keep the age of my charrie similar to the others? There isn't anything specified about ages on the sheet, but I imagine my charrie as eight and that's a pretty big difference from most of the others. I can make a different character if that's too young.

All spots have been filled!  Those who reserved and haven't submitted a character yet, please do so soon!

The first chapter will be out sometime this weekend!  Quill and Blackfooted Bobcat, please try to submit your characters as soon as possible.

@Blackfooted Bobcat, I'd say eight is a bit young.  Eleven or twelve is probably the youngest your character could be to work with the story, sorry! 

Sorry this took so long! I'm looking forward to reading this solo write.

Name: Ellia Rann

Gender/pronouns: Female, she/her

Age: 20

Guild: Asan

Appearance: Tall and muscular, olive skin, and dark eyes. She has chin-length dark brown hair with several small braids woven with golden thread. She usually wears a maroon tunic and brown trousers, and always carries a sword and twin daggers.

Personality: Reserved and observant. She’s quick to pick up on things and notice small details, but often waits to share them. She doesn’t voice her thoughts until she has a thorough and formulated opinion. She generally gives people the benefit of the doubt, but she’ll keep an eye on them until they earn her trust. She’s loyal to a fault, and a very skilled warrior.

Other: Open to shipping! @Win, would you want to ship Ellia and Taiyo?

Okay! I'll submit my charrie soon.

Chapter 1 ~ Part 1

The surrounding trees were a blur as Camellia ran, her long, dark hair flowing behind her like a cloak.  She leapt over stones and roots that broke through the soft dirt beneath her bare feet.  Her heart pounded in the thrill of the hunt and her keen eyes fixed themselves on a small grey blur in front of her.  Camellia expertly drew her bow and let a swift arrow fly towards the small creature.  The arrow met its mark and the grey-furred animal collapsed.  Camellia skidded to a halt, sending up a cloud of dirt and leaves.

She crept through the undergrowth to the creature she’d struck down, recognizing it as a young rabbit.  It wasn’t moving but its dark, beady eyes were alert and filled with panic.  Still, the anima was on its final breath.  Camellia sighed as she tore the green-fletched arrow out of its heaving, bleeding side.  This was always her least favorite part of hunting. “I am sorry,” she whispered. “But it must be done.  My family needs everything we can get.” A gust of wind rippled through the trees as she lifted up its now lifeless body and set down the northward path home.  The green canopy above her head filtered the warm afternoon sun onto the forest floor in strange patterns.  The buzz of insects and the calls of birds accompanied her like an old friend, and she thought of them as one.  The song of the forest ran through her veins and her heart.  The only thing she loved more than this was her people, the Dirgen.  She would never part from them, no matter what others told her.

After what was hours but felt like no time at all to Camellia, the thick wall of trees thinned and gave way to a wide, sunlit clearing of verdant grass and wildflowers.  Heriot, the crowning hall of the Dirgen, stood stalwart here.  The hall, made from hundreds of dark logs and carved with images of deer, eagles, and dragons, was surrounded by many smaller buildings.  It had been built long ago by Camellia’s ancestors around a towering oak tree whose green boughs still rose out of the hall’s thatched roof.  A bonfire surrounded by tall, blackened stones was at the center of the village, illuminating the clearing in the thinning daylight.  Children raced through the grass, laughing and shouting.  A young redheaded girl with shining blue eyes ran from her group of friends and to Camellia. “You’re back!” she exclaimed jubilantly. “Did you bring anything for us?”

Camellia laughed. “Be patient, Lilea!” she instructed.  She pulled a small, heavy leather pouch out of her pocket and handed it to the girl.

Lilea’s face broke into a wide smile as she opened it. “Blackberries!  Where’d you find them?”

“I’ll show you tomorrow if you want,” Camellia told her.  She made her way to Heriot, wishing she could stay and play with the little girl and her friends.  But unlike them she was a full member of the guild, and that came with responsibility.  The sentries posted at the hall’s large doors nodded to her as she entered, but there was a strange worry in their eyes that made Camellia tense.  She walked into the shadowed, torchlit hall.  Sunlight broke through from the hole in the roof where the ancient oak tree grew.  She made a beeline to where sit stood ringed by patterns of small stones, rising like a god or giant over the Dirgen’s home.  Sitting in the tree’s shade was a hunchbacked old woman with long white hair that pooled around her and wrinkled brown skin that made her seem like a part of the tree itself.  Her piercing green eyes stared into Camellia’s very soul. “What’s going on, Elder?” Camellia asked, confused.

The elder sighed and gazed at her. “The forest has been breached.  The conifers are burning.  The winds are calling for justice, and they have chosen you.”

Chapter 1 ~ Part 2

The wind was changing.  The shamans and elders would call it an omen, but to the tall, thin young man standing at the cliff’s edge it was merely a peculiar weather pattern.  He noted it and impatiently watched the setting sun until the sky was as dark as the ink in his quill.  In the darkness, a silver crescent illuminated the grassy cliff and tiny pinpricks of light appeared in the sky above.  These were the real reasons the young man had come.  He had the ambition to document every star and constellation, but the task was never complete.  It was the only thing he had patience for and the only thing he found as beautiful.

Suddenly the sky lit up with a streak of brightness and the ground shook.  The young man was jolted onto his feet as a thundering boom ricocheted through his ears.  Smoke rose from what was now a shallow crater a few hundred feet away, and he dashed towards it.  Every blade of grass surrounding it had been burnt to a crisp and a small, faintly glowing object sat in the crater’s center.  With shaking hands he lifted the still-warm object into his hands so that he could better examine it.  It was a smooth, perfectly round sphere, pitch black but shining with a greenish light.  It was a curious object and he’d never seen anything like it before.  He shoved it into his satchel, hoping that one of the Kieran’s better wizards would understand it.

 He was able to sneak through his city’s darkened streets without notice, but as he neared the crumbling tower where he and other young scholars made their homes a sharp voice cut through the night. “Saffran!” a young woman yelled. “What do you think you’re doing?” The girl was standing in front of the tower’s iron-wrought door, her arms crossed.  Her auburn hair was braided with ribbons of blue and she wore the gaudy silver robe of a wizarding rank superior to his.

Saffran’s calm mood ruptured and he shoved past her into a torchlit hallway. “Stay out of my business!” he yelled at her as he ran across the thinly woven carpet, kicking up dust.

The young woman rolled her eyes and chased after him.  He’d stopped in front of a simple wooden door and was fumbling with his ring of keys. “So are you just going to keep sneaking out until you’re ripped apart by one of those monsters?” she questioned. “Not that I care, I’d be glad if you were.”  Saffran grumbled, threw open the door, and slammed it in her face.

But the girl had gotten the information she needed.  The shooting star that had streaked past her watchful eyes, as well as the unmistakable glow coming from Saffran’s satchel- those were more than enough.  Her master would be extremely pleased and she could almost taste the incredible power he would grant her once her job was done.

- - -

@Blackfooted Bobcat, I'm really sorry but I'm not used to writing with neo-pronouns and it would be quite difficult for me to start doing so now.  Is there a different set of pronouns I could use for Tatsuki instead?