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Post by Judas on Jan 24, 2006 22:22:36 GMT -5
Markel, a woman of the age of sixteen, a runaway she was. Her father was once an honered man, but now only the king of a dried-out kingdom, his queen had left him.. and that left him with Markel. Markel's father, when she was merely twelve, raped her, and if she refused he would beat her with a wooden staff. When she had turned thirteen, Markel snuck out with her father's once war-horse and left the kingdom. She had been on the run ever since, now she was considered a low-life in the eyes of every noble, but she did not care. Markel was beautiful, black hair that reached her knees, and a pale, fragile body. Her eyes were green and worn with torment and yet filled with young-aged wisdom. Her baggy, torn tan pants were stained with dirt and blood, her top was also baggy and worn, it was white and blood-stained. Strapped to her back was a sword, her father's old sword that she had stolen the night she left. Markel was no longer afraid of looking out for her father or any of his men, she knew he had long forgotten her and now all there was, was her and Sheeka, her horse.
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Post by Judas on Jan 24, 2006 22:35:12 GMT -5
Akishta, a girl of thirteen, was as vane as vane could be. She lived in the lavish of a great palace, where her slaves served and did everything for her, and her mother and father were nearly the richest in Fetalmuer. Akishta would look in a mirror everyday, never stopping to think about the important things in life, all she cared for was beauty. "Mother." She would say, "Is there really a fountain of youth?" She'd ask. But her mother never gave her an answer, for her mother did not know. Akishta hardly went outside, and when she did it was only to have a picnic with some boy she wasn't interested in. Her skin was pale, as you could imagine, and her hair long and blonde like that of a dandelion, Akishta wore gorgeous gowns, her favorite of the sort was a blue dress that hung loosely to her knees, and tight at the top.
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Post by Judas on Jan 24, 2006 22:46:16 GMT -5
Mythen, a very myserious boy, lurked the shadows of Fetalmuer. He remembered not of his past, only that he had been cast away by Satan and The Lord himself, he was once in love but in a battle to the death with a fierce vampire warrior, killed her. Mythen had black hair that reached his shoulders and a pale, thin figure. Mostly, if he weren't hot, he wore a black trench-coat. His black pants sagged somewhat, and a white ripped shirt covered his chest. His feet were covered in black boots that buckled halfway to his knees. Damned to walk the earth forever and alone, Mythen killed helpless humans to survive.
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Post by Judas on Feb 20, 2006 14:16:07 GMT -5
Twaddling around alone most of her life, Rayne has made the best of her fallen out life. As a child Rayne was rejected by both her mother and her father, outcast fairies that never intended to have a child. She is on her own now, with nothing but the clothes on her back. Her apparel mostly consists of brown sagging pants a white shirt, and brown boots. She also carries a black bag that slings across her shoulder. Rayne has black hair, reaching about her ankles, and small translucent wings grow out of her shoulderblades. Her eyes are aqua and her skin pale.
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Post by Judas on Feb 22, 2006 19:06:27 GMT -5
Ferin, your average cat-woman, was taunted all of her life for her floppy ears and large claws. Her mother was never around and her father had died when she was six. Growing up in a world filled with taunts and jests about her large ears, Ferin ran away at the age of eleven. Now, being thirteen, Ferin walks the streets alone. Her silverish hair sweeps the ground and her slightly tanned skin gleams. She wears a white cloak and white-heeled boots, a large green amulet hangs on a chain from the neck of her cloak.
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