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PLAYER INFORMATION


Name: Jenx
Journal: N/A
Contact information: [AIM] killerjenx [Plurk] thejenx
Other characters: N/A
Do you need an invite code? Nope

CHARACTER INFORMATION


Name: Firifale
Age: Technically 1. Appears to be a young adult.
Subject taught: N/A
Canon:
Angrica is a world in transition. The older generations of longer-lived races grew up in a world of gods and kings and are dying in a world of machines and revolutionaries. They’ve seen monarchies give way to experimental new forms of government. The political borders of countries have been redrawn, while the cultural borders have blurred and sometimes vanished completely. The dwarves introduced the steam engine while the demons created automatons in a fusion of clockwork and crystalized magic. And above all the political turmoil and forward march of technology, the biggest change of all—they have seen their gods exiled.

Angrica has a typical pantheon. A few major gods and a horde of minor ones, all squabbling, backstabbing, and generally acting like children. (Allmighty and allknowing children, of course—you wouldn’t want to be called a blasphemer, would you?) The trouble was that the dieties of Angrica lived among the mortals. A mere skirmish could wipe out a whole village. The mortals were tolerant, but only to a point—when the gods began an all-out war, they’d had enough. They waited until the gods had worn themselves out fighting each other and then, one by one, they banished the gods to the Celestial Realm and sealed them away.

The mortals still worship their gods, despite the separation. The gods are the only source of magic on Angrica, and magic is necessary to maintain their way of life. But now, the magic has become concentrated in the elite hierarchies of the churches. Using magic requires a connection to the Celestial Realm that the gods are imprisoned in, which can be very dangerous in the wrong hands. Learning it requires years of training and worship, and not a little bit of politics and under the table deals.

Unless you’re Firifale. Firifale was lucky (or perhaps unlucky) enough to become magical without all that mess. There’s an area in the western plains that’s full of residual magic from when the goddess of chance, Sairil, was banished. All the sensible races know to avoid it, because they don’t like waking up in the middle of the night and finding that their boots have turned into butterflies and flown away.

Firifale, unfortunately, was a stoat, and not even sensible by stoat standards. He liked the plains. They had plenty of rabbits, a great variety of crunchy insects, and the larger predators avoided it for some reason—especially useful since he was still fairly young, only 3 months and just separated from his mother when he arrived. So he stayed there. For a whole year. And then, humanity happened.

It’s a bit of a nasty shock to find yourself balding all over and thinking in words. It came on in about the space of a week, which is decidedly not enough time to adjust. He ran into a few travellers, but most didn’t stick around very long; probably the natural reaction when you see a human-shaped thing with patchy fur, fangs, and a rabbit in its mouth.

Then he ran into Siara, Oliver, Ziek, and Astrid. Siara had accidentally caused a civil war (she explained how, but Firifale stopped listening almost immediately) and thought she could use his magic, as some of the only magic outside the rigid grasp of the clergy, to do something-or-another to fix it (he lost track again.) He wasn’t entirely sure what she was talking about, but none of them shrieked and ran away, Astrid made some very tasty food, and Ziek taught him how to count to 3. Good enough for him!

Canon point: The night he arrives in Wolfsbane Port, about a week after he’s met the main characters.

Personality:
The watchword for Firifale is ‘extremely’; as in ‘extremely excitable’, ‘extremely friendly’ , ‘extremely energetic’, and ‘extremely bad impulse control.’ Moderation is not something he understands or has any interest in. If a thought passes through his head, it probably gets spoken. If he wants to do something, he does it. He only gained self-awareness a few weeks ago, and who has time to slow down and think when there’s a whole new world out there to explore? Firifale wants to learn everything and do everything, as soon as possible, and doesn’t really take practicality or consequences into account. This gets him into all sorts of sticky situations, which don’t teach him much of anything because he delights in such adventures.

Firifale is as enthusiastic about socializing as he is miserably inept. Stoats are mostly solitary animals so the social nature of humanity hit him like a brick wall; he wants to make friends and get to know people, but he hasn’t got half a clue about social norms. What’s personal space? Why should you let anyone get a word in edgewise? But if you can get past that and his general weirdness, he is a great friend. He’s loyal, sincere, honest, and even if he gets mad at you every once in a while he doesn’t hold grudges. The only real problem is that he doesn’t always pick up on social cues very well, since he hasn’t got much experience with them. This means that sometimes he can act very inappropriately for a situation, or make someone more and more angry without realizing it, that kind of thing.

An animal at heart, Firifale is still very driven by his instincts. He’s easily distracted by movement and, depending on the context, frequently feels the need to hide from or hunt the moving object. It’ll take him a bit to stop treating food as a treat and trying to stuff himself or hoard leftovers—who knows when he’ll get to eat again? He needs to feel safe before he can sleep, which will often involve small, sheltered spaces since stoats burrow. He’s really a needs-driven creature who seeks food, safety, and other necessities before he thinks about anything else.

Overall, Firifale is a very straightforward guy. He can be overwhelming and frustrating but he’s basically a good guy who loves life, people, and chasing rabbits. Maybe less of that last one now that he’s stuck in a human body; then again, maybe not.


Weapon:
Name: Nagual

Form: Claw gauntlets

Upgrades:
  • Agility
  • Confusion
  • Galdr Bliss
  • Blitzkrieg
  • Teleport

Lost memories:
  • 1 That he used to be a stoat and is not, in fact, just a weird human.
  • 2 Siara, Astrid, and Ziek’s names.
  • 3 The sound of birdsong.
  • 4 Snow is cold.
  • 5 The sun rises on its own, without help or rituals, at a pretty regular time every day.
  • 6 The gods of his world.
  • 7 Words beginning with the letter 'w', excepting essentials like 'was', 'which', and 'why'.
  • 8 How to hunt.
  • 9 How to swim.
  • 10 Shoes. Why they're useful, how they work, and don't even think about shoelaces.

Sample:
Action!
Prose!

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January 2015

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