BLuh, I need a few hours before I can make my person.

==Name==: Kulak-Nul
+Appearance: Average for a member of cave-society. Tan skin, with muscular-ish limbs and what might be considered a manly chest/torso area. Typical long brown hair.
+Character description: Kulak was once the leader of a shortly lived tribe that separated from a much larger society. After about a week of doing rather poorly as chief, Kulak was chased out of his village by angry former-friends. Since then, he has been living on his own, and has been doing a rather poor job.
+Character type: Unkeen
==Inventory==:
|Weapon-type:| Blade
+ Weapon: N/A
+ Food Satchel: A crudely constructed bag with the purpose of transporting foodstuffs across distances, whether they be long or short. Can also be used as a regular bag.
+ Obsidian Badge: At the center of an ornate piece of metalwork sits a flawless orb of obsidian. The metalwork itself is crude and misshapen, further complimenting the perfection of the black orb.
==Skills and Traits==
+Flee!/Charge! (A): Run swiftly towards/away from an enemy. Grants a +2 bonus when activated to actions pertaining to running to/away from enemies.
+Evermore (P): Kulak has spent the last few months living in the wilds near his former village. Here, he has learned new skills, and he is learning more every day. Kulak's survival skills are more effective than the average person, and he has less difficulty with learning new things related to the wilds.
+Bladearts (T): +3 to rolls pertaining to fighting with a blade.
+Woodsman's Ancestor (T): +1 to rolls pertaining to camping/wilds survival.

\o/

Guys, you need colors. Missing colors from Harz and Cave. Izen and Foa, make your characters.
Cave, you can only have one weapon type.

Does that mean we are only capable of using one type of weapon?

No, only that you're good at that type of weapon and worse at others.
But you're an Adept, so you can... Adapt.

==Name==: Ibruk
+Appearance: Brawny, but with oddly light skin. Has a beard and long hair, both brown. Around 5'2"
+Character description: Ibruk likes hunting. Once, he went hunting too far from his village, and got lost. He's still lost.
+Character type: Ranger
==Inventory==:
|Weapon-type: Spear |
+ Weapon: N/A
+ Hunting pouch: Filled with tools to help skin and dry animal hides.
+ Tracking stone: A smooth stone, with a small triangle of red facing one side. Ibruk likes to throw it and follow where the arrow points to.
==Skills and Traits==
+Move in for the kill (A): Attack a weakened prey/foe, exploiting its disadvantage
+Pathfinder (P): Ibruk has gotten really good at finding animals.
+Strongarm (T): Ibruk throws his spear a lot. He's gotten good at that too.

Foa PM'd me this, it's OK, blablah, she didn't post it here so I am.
The game starts tomorrow.

Separate Paths

A new day dawns. Though it is not until many years later that the Gregorian calendar would be used, it would be September 21st.
It is the Stone Age. The origins of man are here. Man is weak and primordial. Technology is limited and civilization is only just reaching full swing. You each are members of early tribal society.
You walk on Separate Paths. The Roads you follow may lead to your downfall, or your legacy. The Choices you make will decide..

Kebbit
Utu-hejal Lagash Maradi ina Akkad
You sit in your small muddy hut. You hold in your hand, your scribing stylus, and before you lies a clay tablet. You are working, copying a message to be sent to several recipients. Your head and hair in one hand, with long flowing strands weaving in and out of your fingers as you move your hand slowly back and forth idly. You look closely at the wording of the message you've been set to copy. It occurs to you that you haven't actually read it, only copied the symbols. You peruse the tablet.

As you read, your brows lift in surprise. Though you have no relation to this tribe or its issues, the news interests you.
A shadow is cast on your desk. You quickly turn around and draw for your weapon, but you ease up when you see it is Uqal himself. He talks.
"How is the progress, scribe?"
You turn to your desk. You've only finished 2 of 5 tablets.
"2 are done. I need more time."
He glares at you. "I told you to be done by the time I returned. I will cut your pay, lowly scribe."
You sigh.
"They will be finished as soon as I can get them. Leave, you are distracting me."
He looks disgusted by being commanded, but leaves anyway. You go back to work.
By the time he comes back, you have finished. He nods wordlessly and hands you 5 coins. They are only worth 1 each. You sigh deeply.
There is still time in the day to spend your newly-gotten gains. There are several merchants close by. You do already have some stale grain-patties and a woven, non-porous basket of dirty water.



Cave
Urch Yirktos
You sit down on a stump in front of your home. You just finished feeding the livestock. You wipe your hand on your forehead wearily. You are panting and sweating from a hard day of work. You look up. The sky is a darker blue than when you started. You look to your left. You see the forest, in all of its looming glory. The trees seem to reach for the sky in vain, the lower branches hanging low, as if tired. In the background, you hear the cries of the animals, both livestock, and wild. Birds and hounds scream into the night. You look up again. The sky is even darker. Behind you, you see the sun setting. You feel the hand of your father on your shoulder, but you keep looking at the sun, in its shades of blazening yellow and orange. "Son, it is time to eat. We have bread and maize." You nod, and slowly get off the stump, eyes continuously affixed on the sun. Something seems different about it.
You sit at the table, and your mother hands you and your father the food. You smell an unfamiliar, sweet smell. Dinner is quiet, and you enjoy the food. All the while, your mother and father seem rather content about something. After you finish eating, your mother gets up and removes something from behind the oven, which was obscured before. They smell sickeningly sweet and look rather moist.
"Honey cakes! We managed to get enough money to buy a whole jar of honey at the market today, thanks to your help with the animals, son. This is our little celebration!" You grin and take the cake.
"Thanks, mother." You bite into the cake. It is soft and squishy. The inside seems to be made of some kind of viscous fluid, which you guess is the honey. The honey is gooey.
After supper, your parents tell you to sleep. You go to bed, and drift off into your dreams, where you awaken in some hot place. It is scorching, wherever you are, and the ground seems to move under your weight, as if it is a thin surface with liquid underneath. You look to your feet, and find nothing there. You hold up your hand to your face. Again, nothing. You dismiss your perceived lack of corporeality and turn to the right. A large structure looms in the distance.


MLC
Rydu
Your name is Rydu, and currently your shaman-father is scolding you.
"Son, you must understand, your power is great. We thank the Spirits for your gift. But you must not use it in vile ways. Turning into a rodent and stealing money from people is not what the Spirit intended when they gave you your gift. They might just take it from you if you keep misusing it!"
"I know, father.. I am sorry. I will return the money and apologize in my normal form."
"Good! And don't do it again. I always knew you were a good kid.." He pats you on the back and smiles.
You leave the tent and take the money from your pouch. Before you walk up to the tent you stole from, you hesitate. That money is pretty valuable, but you should also be a good person.. You don't know what to do. You don't think they've noticed their missing coins anyway.. You could probably sneak them back in without notice.


Maarten
Aklam
You lie down in your hut, weary and worn. You spent today hunting for game to sell on the market, and managed to collect 100 coins from 2 turkeys. You took a feather from each and put it in your headress as a trophy.
You hear a loud brustling noise from right outside your door. It continues for several seconds before stopping. You ignore it, and close your eyes from weariness.
The noise comes again. Your eyes open wide in annoyment and curiosity. What is that noise? You get up, slowly, first dragging yourself off your mattress of furs and then pushing yourself up off of your knees. You are too tired for this. You go outside.
*twoang* An object flies by your head. You rush back inside and grab your weapon, then hide next to the door in wait. Someone is trying to kill you, and you won't have any of that. Another *twoang*, and you see an arrow stick in your wall. Pissed off, you growl and yell. "You had better bugger off if you want to keep living, assassin!"
From the bush, you hear a chuckle. A feminine voice retorts, "Why should I be scared of you?"



Harz
Kulak-Nul
It is night time. You roast a dead rodent over your fire, which you have managed to keep going due to the nearby source of lava, where you also found the materials for your knife and badge. You sit on a rock, and lean your roasting arm on your knee. There is a patch of rough skin on your elbow, and the hair on your leg brushes against it uncomfortably. You dismiss it. You look into the woods around you. You see yellow eyes peering and hear hateful growls, no doubtedly wolves or other wild dogs. This reminds you of a wound on your left leg that you got from a wolf. Around it you've wrapped wet leaves and have tied a twig upright in organic fibers, as a form of makeshift tourniquet. Blood seeps through, and you wheeze in pain. You fill your open hand with water from a nearby puddle and splash it on your leg, giving a moment of relief. Walking is hard for you, and you feel you need to find someone to help soon. You ponder what help a shaman could be. Their thaumaturgic practice comes with a price, and you have no money.



Foa
Nayra Htilogo
"There! The money!" You whisper to yourself.
You are currently inside a complex housing of a wealthy merchant and his family. It is midnight, and they are in bed. You are here to steal their money!
You creep closer to the set of pouches and purses. You can several coins sitting lazily outside of their containers, and you snicker. You wonder how people can be so careless with their valuables. Your sandals are covered in leather and make very little noise as you walk. You move closer and closer, inch by inch, to your prize. Surprisingly, this home is quite large. You managed to get lost at least once looking for these coins, but now that you've finally found them, you cannot contain yourself. You quickly snatch them, not thinking of any consequences. The money makes a loud chinking sound.
"Oh. Uh-oh."
You hear a tossing and turning and some grumbling from two rooms over. A manly voice yawns and asks:
"Who is there? Is it a thief? Honey," he says as you hear him move over. "Wake up. I think someone is stealing from us!" You look around the corner and see through the thin paper of the doors the shadow of the family arousing. You'd better get out of there!



Izen
Ibruk
You throw your rock again, hoping to end up back where you want to be. The stone points east, but you don't know that. You head off in that direction. After what feels like forever (actually 2 hours), you stop walking. Your legs almost give out from constant travel for the past few weeks. Your whole body aches. You see a spring up ahead, and run towards it, but out of the corner of your eye you notice a puff of smoke rising into the sky. You walk slower and get to the spring, and as you drink and wash your face, you look towards the source of smoke with skepticism. You feel your face with your large hands. You feel stubble you never noticed before. You suddenly feel old, and from weariness and lack of nutrition, you pass out next to the pond.
When you wake up, it is night time. You look to where the smoke was. Now, not only is there smoke, but also light.