Casa del Chaos

[Chaosome]

Malon

Name: Malon
Alias: Mal, Lyre
Pronouns: He/Him
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class: Ninja
Job: Scout
Appearance: Standing at six foot, nine inches tall, Malon is a slender Rito, reminiscent of a lyrebird, whose light silvery feathers and lavender beak and talons are clean and pristinely kempt, as are the sharp white claws that tip the avian appendages. Snowy white tips grace the primary pinons of both his hands as well as his broad, almost lyre-esque tail. In his bright, crimson red eyes twinkles a hidden mirth, barely contained by his poise. A vivid bit of colour breaks the silvery plumes in the form of a long braid of yellow blond feathers that hangs down the right side of his head, just to the bend of his arm.

Across his body he wears a modified version of the Shiekah Stealth garb. A light purple leotard, emblazoned with the Sheikah Eye Emblem with a feather replacing the traditional teardrop, a hole to allow his tail feathers through, as well as lacking sleeves and legs, opting instead to wrap similarly coloured cloth around his legs which leave only the tips of his claws and talons visible. Over this outfit he wears a flowing black cloak, decorated with yellow markings along the edge that hangs primarily over his left shoulder and arm. Around his left ankle is a handmade pendent in the shape of an egg, painted with silver and red, resembling the egg he had hatched from.

Personality

Positive	Negative
+Loyal +Courageous +Inquizitive +Enthusiastic +Compassionate	-Distractible -Self-Indulgent -Inquizitive -Boisterous -Provocative

Background:
Have you heard the story? About five little eggs, stolen away from their nest in the dead of night? Whisked away to foreign lands with nothing but a note with their name and pendant shaped like their brightly painted eggs?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was only a handful of years before the end of the Calamity, two Rito met and one fell in love. The man had a charm to him, a well practiced air of serenity and kindness. A mask of many he wore in the pursuit of answers. Answers to questions that few asked, some that shouldn't have been asked. Some that shouldn't have answers. It was one of these naggingly curious questions that brought him into the arms of the woman, a woman who may have came to call that mask 'husband'.

They laughed, she loved, and in time a clutch had came. A single egg, he had thought to gain. A simple test subject for a simple question. But his sample size came in five, a fortuitous turn. The woman was delighted, eagerly carrying on her family tradition. Painting the eggs in bright, beautiful colours, so that the joy may carry through as they incubated. A similar wooden pendant carved and painted would be a gift for the hatchling. To her it was a beautiful gift. To him it would be a way to keep track of the subjects... once they were in the wild. To him she gifted the chance to name them, and five names he gave. Each one holding little meaning to him, beyond the knowledge of their ancient legends or myths, but perhaps somewhat fitting for what was to come next.

Deep under the silent cover of night, the amoral Rito gathered the quintet of eggs, labeling each of them with a piece of parchment containing their names and their pendants, and stole off with them without so much as a look back. For nearly a week, he kept the growing eggs, carefully experimenting on them. Studying them. Exposing the shelled occupants to different types of magics and rituals, strange and risk... forbidden in some cases. Curious as to what effect, if any, it would have on their growth. Their skills. Their being.

Satisfied, for the moment, he would once again set off with his ill gotten eggs, off into the darkness of night. Into slumbering Kakariko Village he crept, eggs carefully nestled within his pack. Malon's egg would be withdrawn and placed into the center of the village. With a little nod to himself, the man flew off once more into the night, four more eggs left to leave...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Come the morning, the egg was found. Confusion plane on many of the Shiekah's faces. They hadn't seen any Rito come or go and it was far far from Hebra. To top it off, the egg was getting cooler. With little option to find where it came from, the egg was wrapped in a blanket and brought inside the inn to be warmed and cared for. It took some trial and error to know how to care for the egg, after all, this was no mere cucco egg. But the various caretakers managed to get the hang of it.

Soon, the egg would finally begin to crack. And not from the accidental drop... probably. Whatever the case was, it wasn't long before the chick finally hatched, their crimson eyes filled with wonder and curiosity. They say it takes a village to raise a child, and this was no less true for Malon. From nearly the same moment they had hatched, the bird tried getting into anything and everything that sparked their curiosity. And that only grew as they did.

Young, inquizitive, and quite speedy, Malon proved difficult to keep up with for some of his Shiekah caretakers, the bird often nosing into anything and everything he could. Even things some would prefer stay hidden. Truly the young Rito had a knack for finding things others tried their best to keep quiet: secret snack stashes, hidden journals, embarrassing childhood sketches. Nothing seemed to dissuade them from seeking out secrets, despite his caretakers' best efforts and the trouble it oft times got him in. It wasn't until Malon had attempted - and nearly succeeded - infiltrating Lady Impa's house that enough was finally enough.

Rather than continue to try and curb the fledgling's antics, the Shiekah decided instead to hone his skills, to give him a more constructive outlet for his energy, something to capture his attention. It started off with training. Atheletics, strength, stealth, subterfuge, magic. Despite the simplistic lifestyle that Kakariko offered, at the end of the day the Shiekah were still capable shinobi, blessed with natural gifts honed and perfected through decades of practice. Gifts that Malon proved capable of reproducing, mimicking in fact.

The chick, while clearly good at sneaking and infiltrating, had learned what he already knew from observing. Watching, listening, retracing peoples' steps. A natural eye for following the techniques taught to him, managing to parrot them back to his teachers with a little trial and error. His skill mimicry was so good, in fact, that he had managed to  replicate the voices of those around... A talent that lead to more than a few pranks from the wily bird. Along with some well earned scolding on occasions.

In time as Malon grew so did the bird's skills. Not just those of his mimicry or combat. But life skills as well. Sewing, cooking, farming, art, makeup. Knowing where his talents lie, he became determined to learn everything that he could. Good infiltration meant blending in, and to best blend in, one had to know as much as possible. And as Malon's skills grew, so did the tasks he was trusted with. Scouting, deliveries, retrievals, dealing with monster hordes, and anything in between. Though sometimes that in between was merely tasks others didn't feel like handling.

Now though, with things having calmed down some from both Malice and Gloom, the bird's task list has grown shorter, and free time has grown longer. Which afford Malon the chance to really go out and see what all the world has to offer at his own pace... Until something like Despair or Spite or Fury comes along as the next big evil infection at least.


Abilities

Equipment		Offensive		Defensive
- Wing and Prayer: A pair of arm length (3ft), collapsible Fūma Shuriken custom made for Malon. The pair of shuriken are designed with aerodynamic, wing shaped blades that fan out with a flick of the wrist. The central handhold resembles in part the Shiekah Eye Emblem, while the blade are decorated with Shiekah script of prayers of protection and victory respectively. Each have been minorly enchanted to allow them to return with ease, akin to boomerangs. - Razor Down: Beneath Malon's signature cloak, he oft times wears a secondary cloak that carries small, feather shaped kunai that can be pulled free and flung with ease. Aside from from acting as a holster for the blades, a string can be pulled on the cloak to quickly release all of the held daggers in one swift flourish or twirl of the cloak. - Whisperwind: The swathing cloth worn around his talons server as more than just a fashion statement. The fabric has been carefully enchanted to not only be quite comfortable and breathable, but also muffled the sound of the rito's footfalls. - Condor's Gaze: A wearable, collapsible set of binoculars, decorated in pale purples and emblazoned with the Shiekah emblem. A masterpiece of equipment crafted for Malon before his first official mission, the binoculars work exceptionally well whether day or night. - Nightingale: While often preferring ranged combat, Malon also keeps a wakazashi for melee encounters. Decorated with Shiekah text reading 'Silence' along its length, the blade has been enchanted to appear as though it ripples and wavers with shadows when swung, making it more difficult to predict where the blade is going and where it will land.		- Alone in the Dark: Conjuring shadows around a target, Malon leaves them temporarily surrounded by a seemingly inescapable darkness. While effective as a distraction, Malon's primary use for this ability is to isolate a target and riddle them with shuriken from their Razor Down. - Dancer in the Dark: Both graceful and dangerous, Malon combines the stately art of dance and a rito's natural grace with that of his Shiekah training, chaining between throwing his kunai, shurkien, and slashing with his wakazashi. Either closing or widening the gap between his target as need be - Shadowboxer: Using touching shadows to his advantage, Malon launches an attack into a the darkness, causing it to exit from another connecting shadow. Malon has to be physically within the shadow he attacks however for this to work. - Dark Star: Surrounding one or both of his Fuma Shuriken in shadow, Malon launches them forward, the shadows rooting themselves in place while the blade continue to spin. Until recalled the shuriken act as a sentry lashing out within a radius at either the detection of movement or Malon's command. -Snuff Out the Light: Expending a great deal of magical energy, Malon concentrates a mass of wind and shadow around both of his Fuma Shuriken before launching them into the air. Spinning rapidly the blade fling blasts of tenebrous wind bolts around in a wide radius, raining down from above and blocking light from the sky in a localized area for a period of time. The amount of energy used in this ability leaves Malon rather winded.		- Trip the Darkness: As a side effect of his egg being experimented on before hatching, Malon has honed a talent for shadow magic. One way this manifests is the rito's ability to 'step' between and hide within nearby shadows so long as he holds his breath. For traversing between shadows, this means he can take short breaths, but to stay submerged requires precise breath control. - Darkness Surrounding: By gathering wind and shadow around his wings and clapping them together, Malon sends out an sphere of magic, leaving an area of dark haze and snuffing out non-magical sources of light in a radius around where the initial projectile landed. Magical sources of light are instead dimmed by the lingering haze. - Me and My Shadow: Focusing on nearby shadows, Malon creates a trio of tangible shadowy clones in his likeness or that of another. These shadows are not physically strong and only capable of minor attacks or small tasks, however they are durable and meant to soak hits to defend oneself or while making a retreat. - Black Smoke Rises: Using a similar spell to Darkness Surrounding, Malon throws a sphere of wind and shadow into the air, leaving trail of the tenebrous magic. Malon can then use this with Trip the Darkness to either hide in the shadows the magic has created, or step through them into the primary cloud above for either a getaway or elevation advantage. - Dark Matter: Gathering up shadows, Malon creates a tangible shield made from shadows. The shield hovers near to the rito and moves to intercept incoming strikes and projectiles. While sturdy, the shield is not quite as durable as his shadow clones, and will break under repeated assault or a heavy enough blow.

[Chaosome]

Arcade

Name: Arcade
Alias:
Pronouns: He/Him
Alignment: True Neutral
Class: Chemist
Job: N/A
Appearance: Arcade is a toned, broad shouldered Rito standing a seven foot three with features like that of a magpie. Piercing golden eyes rest above a slim and sharp black beak, their gaze often seeming distant or disinterested in the goings on around him. On either side, shocks of blue break the otherwise sleek black feathers of his head. These black feathers trail down the man's neck and to his chest in a V before transitioning to a snowy white that runs down to his waist before transitioning back to black across his legs and lengthy tail. Similarly, the upper halves of his arms' feathers are mostly black save for a patch along his upper arm and the tips of his digit-like wings which are an iridescent blue.

Around the bird's talons are white bandages pulled snug to protect them during his travels. Further up along each of his feather covered thighs are a trio of belts, each holding a number of loops and pouches which in turn hold vials and reagents or other tools that he may require at any moment. Over his chest he wears a black and silver brocade vest with topaz buttons, atop that he wears a plain white, knee length labcoat with several pockets both inside and out.
Personality

Positive	Negative
+ Determined + Intelligent + Adaptable + Observant + Confident	- Amoral - Egocentric - Manipulative - Deceitful - Obstinate

Background:
As with many stories, Arcade's tale begins with a happy family in a happy home. In the icy region of Hebra, a warm home in the heart of Rito Village young Arcade was born to an artist mother and a warrior father and there was little that he or his twin sister wanted for. They had clothes on their backs and food on their plates, and a warm hearth by which to rest. Wise and caring parents who taught them life and how to defend themselves from the dangers of the wilderness that surrounded their home. Beasts, monsters, the cold itself. All in all it was a rather mundane and peaceful life. Peaceful, routine, and rather dull. And it was that the twins often made their own entertainment. For his sister Melody it meant spending her time with the other children of the village, whiling away the days with games and the like, pretending to be adventurers, heroes, or guards. Arcade however. He preferred to observe, to study, to question.

For Arcade, seeking to understand how things were put together, how they functioned was his favourite pastime. Books about medicine, science, engineering. Anything one could build or fix or change, he poured himself into learning. When he was old enough to, he put his learning into practice. Rambunctiousness and a keen intelligence, his parents said. It started off as simply taking apart his sister's doll stitch by stitch and thread by thread before putting them back together mostly in the way he had found them. Perhaps it bothered Melody who cried while he took the doll apart, but it wasn't causing any problems. "I put it back together."

It grew from there to taking apart father's bow, studying the fletching and sinew that built the weapons. Perhaps it bothered his father whose hunt was delayed, but it wasn't causing any problems. "I put it back together." A visiting merchant's wagon, unladen and taken apart piece by piece, laid out and studied before being just as swiftly rebuilt and loaded back up with their goods. Perhaps it bothered the merchant who stood bewildered by the quiet bird's work, but it wasn't causing any problems. "I put it back together."

A routine trip into Hebra with his father and one of his friends from the guard, standard for boys his age. It taught them well how to one day help protect the village and oneself, how to forage if one got lost, how to hunt to quell dangerous beasts. A routine trip, that was, until a band of monsters struck. A trio of Bokoblins along with a pair of Moblins ambushed the group of Rito. Arcade was relegated to the back while his father and his friend fought the beasts off. It gave him the chance to observe their techniques, he knew he'd likely have to be a part of the guard someday whether he wished to or no, so it was better to learn what he could now.

Amidst the din of battle, the guard and his father had managed to fend off the creatures, but not without the guard taking a terrible blow. The Rito laying in agony up against a tree where Arcade's father had dragged him, the Rito's left arm resting in the crimson snow by his side. Beckoning his son over, Arcade's father instructed him to apply pressure to the guard's wounds until he returned with help. Arcade opened his beak to counter that should more monsters arrive there'd be two dead rather than one and that he should fly back, but he knew between them his father was the faster flyer, and so instead he simply nodded as he flew off.

As the second ticked by in the cold and dark, Arcade and the guard sat quiet and still. The guard praying and Arcade planning. It was taking far too long. The man lost a limb and was likely to lose his life from blood loss. But perhaps he could fix both of those problems? Glancing between the limb and the nearly delirious guard, the boy stood and tore the hem of his shirt before tying it tightly around the guard's upper arm. It would slow the blood loss longer than just his grip could. The guard, while thankful, was more than a bit confused as the boy stepped over and picked up his severed limb. In a free wing Arcade grabbed up a branch and held it in front of the guard. "Bite this." he commanded evenly. "Now." Despite the guard's trepidation and concern, he did as he was asked. It wasn't until the boy grabbed the first aid kit from the nearby supply pack that it sank in. Arcade stared at the man who stared back, clearly weighing his options just like Arcade had. His eyes flicking between the boy, his limb, and the stump. He clenched his eyes shut and bit down harder...

A short time later, Arcade's father along with two other Rito arrived. They all three stared in shock at the boy, knelt in the snow with blood on his hands and the guard who, while unconscious, was still breathing steadily with his arm reattached. Perhaps it bothered the guard, who writhed in pain until he passed out, but it wasn't causing any problems. "I put him back together." He was surprised at how simple it was, so like working with Melody's doll.

Back home, Arcade was praised by his family and that of the guard he saved. And while he did certainly feel he had earned that praise, he hadn't saved the man for praise or adoration. But to find out what would happen. Would the limb work again, like attaching a wheel back to a cart? Would it hang limb and useless like his sister's doll. Trying was the only way to find out. And it was better than the village having to bury a guard.

Because of his quick thinking and confidence under pressure, Arcade's father urged the boy to consider joining the guard himself. Much to his surprise, the boy agreed. Not because of a desire to protect the village or a sense of duty or accomplishment, but his desire to learn, to improve. If a trained guard was... disarmed... by a monster with such relative ease, he could hardly sit back and neglect his physicality any longer. Melody of course eagerly offered to join along with him, her own desire for 'adventure' pushing her to do so.

In time both he and his sister came into their own right as guards. Where Melody was a crackshot with a bow much like her father, Arcade had opted instead for a less traditional route, a pair of spears were his chosen weapons, wielding one or both as the situation required. The two worked well together on whatever task they were set to, after the culling of beasts or quelling of monster encampments that grew too big or too close. Melody was keen on protecting those she cared for and Arcade saw it as a chance to experiment. No one complained when a beast or monster was taken apart. And all the better there was no rush to put them back together. His sister was of course, reticent with her thoughts on Arcade's 'studies', but kept it to herself. After all, it wasn't causing any problems.

As his study of the anatomy and inner workings of his 'subjects' grew dull, however, the Rito turned to another avenue. The psychological. Wolves and animals proved to be less susceptible to such things. Sure, they could be lead to encampments or trapped in caves, but monsters on the other wing... It was clear that the Moblins and Bokoblins had a culture of some sort, repugnant and backwards though it may be. They were sapient. Or at least a very good mockery of sapience. Never the less, they proved to be easily manipulated. He found, through independent missions of his own, that it was a simple matter to turn them against one another, or even themselves in fits of insanity. If they were even sane to begin with.  Food moved in secret, the right trinket moved into the wrong place, a bed or table moved. It didn't take much to get them to devolve into infighting within their camps. All the more entertaining however was leaving 'clues' that other nearby camps had clearly raided them. Why bother the guards when you could simply make the ignorant creatures do their work for them.

Not every threat however could be deceived or manipulated, however. And none proved so immutably focused as Malice. The thick, tar like substance had no mind, as far as Arcade could perceive. And yet it still reacted to stimuli. It summoned specters to assault those nearby, it writhed and oozed when struck. Some even had eyes that tracked you with bristling hatred. They made for a fine weak point however. But no matter how much of the mass one rid, it always returned in time. It disgusted most, but Arcade found it to be fascinating to behold. Its effect on nature and creatures around it. Granted, most every animal avoided the Malice like a plague. It wasn't hard, however, to lead some test subjects into the right area for observation from time to time. A cave deeper within Hebra, where a rather small pool of Malice sat made for a perfect testing ground.

Whereas birds and wolves and moose withered and suffered by its touch — likely feeding and fueling the 'lucky' patch of Malice as a meal — monsters were emboldened by it, empowered even. They were, of course, summarily dispatched when the tests were concluded. The patch even grew somewhat, spreading further in its pit. With his experiments at a standstill, and unwilling to risk himself despite his curiosity, Arcade abandoned the cave when there was nothing else to glean. This would prove to have consequences unforeseen. The growth was slow, slower than Arcade had known. Slow and deep.

Some years later Arcade and Melody were called to deal with a small infestation of Malice in a cave deeper within Hebra. A shame he thought, to waste such a test subject, but he had learned all the he could from it, and much like the monsters he tested on it, it was better disposed of. Deep into the cave system the two traveled, eventually finding the pit in which it resided, that glowing eye of hate staring up at them from below. Melody was often unnerved by the disgusting tar, but steeled herself as the eye tracked her movement, all but ignoring Arcade as the two trailed around the pit. Melody's first shot landed wide, and several cursed skulls rose from the mass to defend it though were easily dispatched. Her second shot landed true, striking the Malice directly in the eye.

For a small pool, there's but one eye. When it was destroyed, it didn't take long for the rest of the mass to go along with it. But as the ooze writhed the cavern rumbled violently. The twins' footing torn from beneath them as the pit collapsed in on itself, dropping them deeper into the twisting tunnels of the cavern. There, spider webbed across the stone walls, was a vast network of Malice. Spikes protruding this way and that, angry maws, and several more eyes... all now focused on the two Rito as more and more cursed rose from its mass.

The pair fought long and hard against the encroaching waves of enemies. Doing their best to strike what eyes they could, but where one was struck down, it uncovered another behind the walls of ooze. While Melody kept her will strong against the tide in spite of her growing fear, Arcade was elated. Such unexpected results, such vast growth in such a relatively short amount of time. He wanted to know more, but it couldn't be suffered to live so long as it wished to see he and his sister dead.

As the battle raged and the Malice writhed, more of the cavern continued to rumble and collapse, the two fighting now not only against the concentrated rage, but nature itself as stones rained from above them. Through the fight the twins were slowly making their way towards a tunnel, whether it was an escape or a dead end it was free of Malice at the very least. As they neared their possible escape, the walls rumbled violently once more. Arcade's focus had been on the cursed skulls in front of him, but Melody saw the danger hanging from above. Before Arcade could react he felt himself shoved into the tunnel. The grinning face of his sister knocking another arrow was the last thing he saw before a rain of stones fell and blocked the tunnel in front of him.

In that moment Arcade felt something he hadn't before. Guilt. He slammed his fists against the wall of fallen stone in impotent rage. How could someone related to him act so foolishly? Had they stayed together their odds were better. But now? She was likely as dead as he would be should this tunnel have no exit. The young man paced in front of the obstruction and weighed his options. He could, with time, tear down the wall and get to her. But by then she'd likely be dead and he would be next. If he waited til the battle was done there was a chance he could clear things out and inspect the aftermath... But no, not his sister. The tunnel pressed deeper and if it had an exit he could fetch help, but still she would likely be dead. Going home was not an option, this disgusting feeling would only worsen with his family mourning. He had to recover his notes from where he kept them hidden, but beyond that, he couldn't stay in Hebra with her blood on his wings. This was someone else's mess to clean up now.

Arcade had long planned to leave Rito Village and Hebra all together. There was little left that he could learn here. Even more so now. He had a stash of supplies, his books, his notes, and other odds and ends stashed away a small distance from the village. And so late into the night when he was certain that all in the village were either asleep or off into the wilds to hunt for he and his sister's corpses, he gathered his things and wandered off into the dark.

For a time he traveled the width and breadth of the regions, from the sands of the Gerudo Desert to the waters of the Zora Domain and all beyond. His quest for knowledge never ceasing. And in that quest, some things were left aside. One couldn't stop to question the morality if there was knowledge to be gained from the ordeal. What he couldn't gain through questioning, he gained through deception, what couldn't be gained through deception, subterfuge. And when that failed? Well, the roads were rife with monsters and beasts and Yiga, after all.

The Yiga. An... interesting splinter from the Sheikah. Strong? Perhaps. Dangerous? To some. Dull witted? Undoubtedly. But what they lacked in brains for the most part, they made up for in access to much of the same knowledge the Sheikah held. And unlike their more upstanding brethren, it took little more than the wave of a banana and some rupees to loosen lips. And if that didn't suffice, well. Accidents do happen.

Arcade's pursuit of knowledge indeed to him far and wide through the Kingdom of Hyrule, and even further afield to lands beyond. But in time his desires brought him back home to Rito Village. Curious, ancient, forbidden magical practices he found posed questions that begged answers. Answers he couldn't find without a test subject. For a mercy, it seemed that none with in the village recognized the bird now grown, and neither of his parents were in sight. A false name, a false story, and a few honeyed words were all it took for him to reintegrate into the village. And a few more was all it really took to capture the heart of a woman.

He truly only expected a singular egg, one that he could steal away with and infuse with magic to ascertain just how it would affect the child. How it would grow, should it survive the process, and what if any abnormalities it would possess. One could only imagine his glee when he was presented with not one, but five perfect candidates. After waiting through his 'wife's' simplistic but aesthetically pleasing traditions, Arcade had the honour of naming them. Malon, Makar, Medli, Mikau, and Moosh. Names he cared little for, in truth. They held no meaning, named picked from myth and legend alone. A little lie he told himself as he briefly thought of Melody.

Deep in the night, Arcade rose from bed as silent as could be and gathered the eggs and the little carved pendants she'd made for them. Labeling each of his subjects with a piece of parchment the Rito left without a second glance. She wouldn't understand of course, when the sun rose and they were gone. But she didn't need to. He did.

Far and away in one of his hidden labs across the land, Arcade sat about his work. Crystals of magic, infusions and concoctions of different kinds, incantations. Each subject was suffused with different elements and compounds. What, he wondered, would this do to their body? Their psyche? Their capabilities. Nearly a week he experimented and observed the eggs. They were still developing for now, which was good. But should any of them survive, he hadn't the time, the means, nor the care to keep them. It would only slow down his pursuits. But perhaps he could combine this experiment with another of his pondering thoughts.

Gathering the clutch up again along with what he came to see as their tracking tags, Arcade sat off across the kingdom in the dead of night. One egg was left in the silent village of Kakariko, another within the Zora's Domain, a third was left by the spring inside Goron Village, the fourth was snuck into the guarded Gerudo Town, and the last was wrapped securely and dropped above the Lost Woods where spirits resided. Four, he was certain, had a moderate chance of survival. What would become of the last was anyone's guess.

With each subject in place, Arcade set about his travels again. Returning in time to see, to his pleasure, that four had indeed survived into childhood. The fifth would regrettably remain unaccounted for, as even for someone of his intellect, travel through the Lost Woods proved taxing. In time, he presumed. Over the years he continued his observations in secret, from afar. Noting how each of the test subjects were affected not only by his experimentation, but the regions they were raised and the peoples therein.

Through the events surrounding the end of the Calamity, Arcade kept to his study and observation. There was much to learn, much to observe and understand. But when the Upheaval came, his attention was drawn away from his subjects and to that of the unearthed and unskyed Zonai ruins. How much lost knowledge could he find in the sky and the depths he wondered? Gloom too was a fascinating new resource for testing and experimentation. And even now, after the dust from Hyrule Castle's flight settled, there was still much to learn. His subjects would be around. They could wait.

Abilities

Equipment		Offensive		Defensive
- Aurora et Vespera: A pair of six foot long spears. The hafts of each spear is expertly crafted and each are decorated with scenes of their namesake, small runes run along one side of them that have given the spears a defense mechanism to burn the hands of anyone Arcade does not wish to touch them. The heads of each spear is carved from crystal, one infused with light and one with dark magic, and honed to a razor's edge. Their strikes release unpredictable bursts of damaging concentrated magic. - Pera Balteus: The set of six belts, three around each thigh, that Arcade wears contains several obvious loops and satchels for carrying things within them, but they contain several hidden compartments as well to conceal less than savoury vials or reagents. They're waterproof and resistant to wear and tear as well. - Tutela Calces: Arcade's labcoat appears at first glance to be a simple fabric coat, however between the layers of cloth in key spots are dense plates of folded steel to serve as protection should the Rito come under assault. - Vestis Fuminata: Much like his labcoat, Arcade's vest also contains several protective steel plates across the front and back. The topaz buttons along the front also small, handcrafted rechargeable magic batteries and can release a stunning burst of electricity in emergency situations. - Occulara Antobscura: A pair of seemingly simple glasses, often tucked into one of his coat pockets, the crystal lenses of these glasses are actually enchanted with enough light magic to allow the reader to see in darkness when worn without the need of a lantern.		- Ultima Refugium: While preferring not to come to blows, Arcade still trained as a guard in the Rito Village from a young age. Dual wielding both of his spears, the Rito alternates strikes in rapid succession, high and low, to overwhelm ones defenses. - Interficiam ab Caelo: Though you're more likely to spot him on terra firma, Arcade can and does fly quite well. With a single spear wielded in his talons, Arcade swoops in from a direction with a swift stab, like the sting of a wasp. Sometimes the tips of his spears are coated in a paralytic poison, however given the heads' magical natures, this isn't often required. - Ventus Servitas: Wind can carry many a thing when it blows strong enough. Whipping his wings violently forward, Arcade creates a small but powerful gale of wind that carries whatever small objects nearby in it towards the target. The small objects in question tend to be vials of whatever concoctions he has at wing. - Ars Venti: Magic and physical combat combined can be like unto a science itself. Causing a strong whorl of wind to whip around his closed fists, Arcade's blows can rip through clothes or weak armour, knock aside attacks, and even cause windburns. -Hasta Pupa: Using wind to keep them aloft, Arcade sends his spears out independently of his own movements to strike and buzz by a target to keep them occupied. Should the target grab one of the spears, the weapon's security measure of course kicks in.		- Muruam cum Aere: Whipping up the air around him, Arcade creates a temporary wall of wind that deflects or blows off course incoming projectiles. Magic projectiles however are only delayed by the gale.   - Ecce Scintilli: The right mixture of chemicals can make for a perfect escape and distraction. By combining the right vials and tossing them violently to the ground, Arcade unleashes a billowing cloud of smoke that not only obscures vision but also serves to attract nearby beasts or monsters, depending on the mixture used. On the inverse, the right mixture can also hide his scent from or repel monsters as well. - Exspecte Quid: So too can the right mixture daze and disorient. Combining chemicals at hand, Arcade unleashes a hazy fog that can cause dizziness, blurry vision, and hallucinations depending on the chemicals used. This can even make others seem to be people or creatures they aren't.   - Coniuratio Stali Militum: Gloom, much like Malice was, is a fascinating reagent. Using a vial of Gloom mixed with the right herbs and chemicals, Arcade can call forth a phalanx of Stal-creatures from the ground to serve as a skeletal barrier between him and assailants. This has a much more pronounced effect in the Depths. - Stalus Armorum: Should a line of mindless skele-fodder not be pursuant with one's interest, the right adjustments can be made. Using a slightly altered compound poured on oneself, Arcade calls forth several Stal-creatures that latch onto the Rito's body to serve as an osseous armour.

[Chaosome]

Osf ? ? ?

[Chaosome]

Moosh

Name: Moosh
Alias:
Pronouns: He/Him
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class: Wildfire Druid
Job: Any
Appearance: Moosh clocks in at seven feet tall even with a broad shouldered and barrel-chested build and somewhat resembles a crested auklet. His feathers are primarily an ashen grey across his neck, chest, and stomach though turn to a soot black around his head, across his back, and the ends of his wings. The most prominent bits of colour across his form are: a trio of white, whisker-like feathers that grow curling downward from the corners of his eyes, his vibrantly orange beak, the corners of which appear slightly upturned and give him a perpetually smiling appearance, a sweep of bright red feathers that curl up and drape down covering his left eye, and those intensely bright blue eyes themselves.

Around his lower half, he wears a vibrantly decorated loincloth made from heat, flame, and lava resistant fibers and leather, and a wide belt with various hoops along its length. Depending on what he is doing at a particular time, different tools or chains — decorative or weighted for training — hang along the hoops of the belt. On the first digit of each of his wings he wear a ruby ring. Around his right ankle is a handmade pendant in the shape of an egg, painted orange and yellow, resembling the egg he had hatched from.
Personality

Positive	Negative
+Patient +Modest +Earnest +Affable +Allocentric	-Clingy -Dissociative -Conflict-Avoidant -Self-Sacrificing -Echoist

Background:
Have you heard the story? About five little eggs, stolen away from their nest in the dead of night? Whisked away to foreign lands with nothing but a note with their name and pendant shaped like their brightly painted eggs?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was only a handful of years before the end of the Calamity, two Rito met and one fell in love. The man had a charm to him, a well practiced air of serenity and kindness. A mask of many he wore in the pursuit of answers. Answers to questions that few asked, some that shouldn't have been asked. Some that shouldn't have answers. It was one of these naggingly curious questions that brought him into the arms of the woman, a woman who may have came to call that mask 'husband'.

They laughed, she loved, and in time a clutch had came. A single egg, he had thought to gain. A simple test subject for a simple question. But his sample size came in five, a fortitous turn. The woman was delightly, eagerly carrying on her family tradition. Painting the eggs in bright, beautiful colours, so that the joy may carry through as they incubated. A similar wooden pendant carved and painted would be a gift for the hatchling. To her it was a beautiful gift. To him it would be a way to keep track of the subjects... once they were in the wild. To him she gifted the chance to name them, and five names he gave. Each one holding little meaning to him, beyond the knowledge of their ancient legends or myths, but perhaps somewhat fitting for what was to come next.

Deep under the silent cover of night, the amoral Rito gathered the quintent of eggs, labeling each of them with a piece of parchment containing their names and their pendants, and stole off with them without so much as a look back. For nearly a week, he kept the growing eggs, carefully experimenting on them. Studying them. Exposing the shelled occupents to different types of magics and rituals, strange and risk... forbidden in some cases. Curious as to what effect, if any, it would have on their growth. Their skills. Their being.

Satisfied, for the moment, he would once again set off with his ill gotten eggs, off into the darkness of night. Into the quiet heat of Goron Village he slunk, eggs carefully nestled within his pack. Moosh's egg would be chosen and nestled into some rocks by the warm steam. With a little nod to himself, the man flew off once more into the night, three more eggs left to leave...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the sun rose that morning, there was a bit of understandable confusion among the Goron who had found the egg. What kind of egg was it? Who left it there? Was it meant to be part of someone's breakfast and if not was it fair game? That question got a swift smack to the back of the asker's head however as one of the older Goron pointed out the note and pendant.

Fortunate it was for Moosh that he didn't become breakfast. The gaggle of Gorons taking the egg in to care for as soon as they understood. One of them even went to the trouble of buidling a nest. Granted it was made of stones, but the thought is what counts. In time the Rito hatched and the great question finally arose... What would they feed the soot-coloured hatchling?

Goron cuisine was a delicacy. A wonder to behold of spice and flavour and all the right ingredients!... And almost entirely inedible to the other races for one reason or another. Rocks would surely crack the poor thing's beak, and the spices would be too much for such a little thing! But after much trial, error, and crying on the hatchling's part, the Gorons found that he'd eat... well. Just about anything. Meat, veggies, bugs, whatever was offered, cooked or uncooked. He didn't at all seem a picky child. But he was a bit of a handful...

As Moosh grew, the bird had a tendancy to want to help with anything and everything, even things that were a bit too out of his league. Things too heavy to lift or too hot for him to touch. That was an odd one for the Gorons to have to remind the boy over. After all, what was heat to a Goron? So it was no wonder that one day, one would forget to keep an eye on him eventually. It just so happened that it was while he was helping out with little tasks at the forge for the first time.

When the smith had dropped an ingot into the forge on accident, he didn't think twice when someone reached in and passed it straight to him. It wasn't until after he had thanked them and was three strikes deep on the glowing ingot that it clicked in his head just who had done that. With a panicked gasp he spun around to Moosh who was staring curiously at his hand... that was still on fire.

With a yet more panicked shriek, the Goron lifted Moosh up from under his arms, the boy's hand still aflame, and rushed his way through the village towards the infirmary. Which drew more than a few confused glances...

Moosh was calm the whole while, though a bit confused as to why everyone was freaking out at the infirmary, he was fine! While a couple of the Gorons tried to figure out just what they should do, a long suffering sigh came from the back as another stepped forward with a glass of water and poured it over the Rito's hand. Not a burn or singe was in sight.

It was that day that, to everyone's surprise, they had learned Moosh was fireproof. It was an odd sense of relief because it made very little sense. But a welcome one! They didn't have to worry nearly as much about the boy getting hurt, and Moosh could do more to help around the village!

Which combined with Moosh's strong desire to assist, made him quite the popular helper! From working at the forage, to helping cook, even helping heat up the hotsprings even hotter. Over time Moosh learned that his resistance to molten liquids as well, after a particularly bad crack in a crucible spilled out on him one day, and over further time still he learned that he could control the flame with magic as well. Something he had to practice on his own with quite a bit of trial and error.

Now, Moosh is still just as eager to help out how he can, but has grown interested in seeing what he can do outside of the Eldin region. After all, if there's rebuilding effors going on in Castle Town, surely more places'll need someone's help?

Abilities

Equipment		Offensive		Defensive
- Strike Bands: A pair of enchanted ruby rings. These rings, when struck together, with a clap for example, ignite a directed bust of flames. Depending on how much magical energy is channeled through them when struck this can rage from a tiny spark to a large gout of fire. - Flame-Proof Folds: Made from a number of different kinds of fireproof leathers and plants, this kilt like loincloth is perfectly suited to Moosh's particular set of skills, and while it wouldn't do wonderfully in a trip through lava and would need to be removed for that, it won't burn up even with the Rito's body is aflame. It hosts several rings along its waist that can be used to hold tools or chains or other implements that Moosh might need. - Blazing Poi: Created using flame proof materials, along with his own feathers, this pair of poi can be used both in an offensive capacity, as they hold inside each of them a very dense and heavy stone, or for rather impressive performative art in the form of fire dancing. - Meteor Marbles: A bag full of small, flammable marbles made of hardened and polished tar that Moosh can light on fire and shoot at high speeds with a flick of his thumb. - Pocket Sands: A number of pouches filled with simple things like sand, rust, and aluminium shavings to name a few. What harm could a pouch full of sand be in the hands of someone with fire magics?		- Melt Crimson: Channeling a sever amount of fire magic into each hand, Moosh flings a sphere of pyretic magic into the air above a target before flinging the second, causing them to collide and burst in a violent eruption of flame and energy that careens towards the earth at high speeds. - Din's Fire: Similar to Melt Crimson, Moosh channels a large amount of fire magic into a single hand before slamming his fist to the ground, causing the magic to burst in an expanding wave of fire and force, burning and knocking back those hit by it. - Scorching Wheel: Channeling fire and wind magic through his ignited poi, Moosh can spin them at high speeds, creating wheels of fire. The arc at which they are spun determines their size. When released they surge forward to and explode upon impact with the first solid enough object that they hit. - Blaze of Glory: Lighting his entire body on fire, Moosh rushes forward and bearhugs the target before beginning to channel his magic through the fire, causing a catastrophic erruption. This usually results in knocking himself out as well, so is often used as a last resort. -Volcanic Panic: Digging his digits into the ground, Moosh channels fire magic through the ground to create gouts of fire and molten rock that erupt from the ground beneath a target. However the longer this move is channeled the harder it is to control where the gouts will come from.		- Ignis Fatuus: Using a combination magic and fire, originating from either flames he as come in direct contact with, or those on his poi, Moosh creates free moving, semi-sentient, shimmering, colour changing wisps of fire that can be given a simple command such as 'Lead' or 'Distract' or 'Disorient' for example. Beyond this they are still magical fire and can slam into targets for damage or to burn them, but primarily they are used for defensive purposes. - Eruption Plume: Learning how best to fly when raised by a group of people who can't at all fly proved tricky. But thanks to updrafts of heat and learning how to control his own fire magic, Moosh has learned to create heatwaves of his own to allow himself much easier takeoff. - Meteoric Buffer: Igniting the flames around his poi, Moosh spins the weapons at a swift speed while keeping them close to his body, creating a barrier of fire and wind that make approaching him directly far more difficult. - Mirage Dome: By using the right combination of magic, Moosh can raise the heat in a radius around his body, causing heat distortions and illusions of things that aren't there to trick or disorient his opponents. The hotter and wider the radius, the more he can create, but the more unsafe it becomes. - Burning Rush: Using a sudden and sharp burst of heated air from his hands, Moosh can either knock back an opponent or oncoming projectile, or use it to swiftly reposition himself in emergencies.

[Chaosome]

Jamil

Name: Jamil
Alias: Malika
Pronouns: Any
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Class: Wishcrafter
Job: Chronicler
Appearance: Standing at 7'6" tall, Jamil has a slight, almost mousey, build with brass coloured skin and long, wavy, strawberry blonde hair that is often done up in a high ponytail along with several braids on either side. Said braids are often decorated with different baubles or charms in shapes like stars, moons, or the Gerudo crest. Beneath their bright, emerald green eyes they often wear a broad veil decorated with the Gerudo crest that covers their surprisingly delicate features, at least for a Gerudo.

Jamil often wears what would be considered by the Gerudo of Hyrule to be Vai clothing. With vibrant colour, flowing accents, and various types of decoration hanging from their hips or arms. At their hip they wear a blade similar in design to the Scimitar of the Seven, and on their back they carry an ancient but well kept shield with Gerudo design along a surface that looks akin to a tarnished mirror.

Personality

Positive	Negative
+Studious +Warm +Attentive +Curious +Humble	-Overambitious -Soft-Hearted -Mildly Hedonistic -Audacious -Reckless

Background:
Thousands and thousands of years ago, some time before the imprisoning war, the to-be King of the Gerudo, Ganondorf, was born. Male Gerudo were incredibly rare, only one being born every one hundred years or so. For many among the Gerudo people this was seen as an auspicious occasion, however for a pair of seeresses, it soon became an omen. The twins foresaw great destruction and gloom following in the boys wake, a great shadow of hate and malice that dwelt in his heart and only grew with every passing day. They prophesied that calamity would be the king's only gift to the Gerudo.

Many disregarded the two's prophecies as false or misinterpreted somehow. But some wholeheartedly believed the witches' words, as they had never steered those who sought them out wrong before. In time as Ganondorf grew in age, and in power, those who believed the twins and those who were not blinded by the ideal of a golden age for the Gerudo grew concerned. If they spoke up, they could be seen as dissenters, if they remained silent they would become complicit. And so it was that a third choice was taken. Gathering food and water and supplies, a mass of Gerudo left in the night, traveling far westward, out of the land of Hyrule.

Through the seemingly endless desert they met a kingdom of ninjas, clad from head to toe in their robes, leaving only their oddly glowing eyes to be seen. They eventually pointed the travelers along a winding path, further south through the sands, where in time they came across a beautiful land of rolling hills, tall peaks, and lush forests. Along their journey they met many peoples, both familiar and distinct. After traveling along the land for a number of years, seeing the sights and meeting the peoples they decided to settle along the western coast of the desert, north of a cold and snowy mountain, as it reminded them much of their homeland.

Over times, both good and bad, the Gerudo tribe lived and thrived and spread. Some stayed in their new desert home, while others set out further from shore and out to sea. Those that stayed behind in the desert, kept what tales they could of their home inscribed in numerous tomes and enshrined in a number of relics they had taken along with them during their exodus from Hyrule. Over the centuries, still no male Gerudo were born to them. Until one was. And then many years later another. Then soon another. And sooner still yet another. Distanced from their old ways, and with their seers and seeresses foretelling no disasters, these births were joyous yet free of the weight the once carried. Though still quite uncommon among the tribe, nearly every quarter of a century a male child is born.

Jamil was one such child.

Born to one of the villages' Chroniclers, those descended from the Sorceresses of old who worked as not just seers, but storytellers and protectors of their village, Jamil was taught in the ways of prophecy, magic, story keeping, and the power of words and names. Something to which the boy took to with great aplomb. From the tales of the Eight Heroines, to what records they had of their departure from their homeland, and the few stories they had kept from even further back, Jamil immersed himself into them like a fish in water. Tirelessly working through day and night to make his people proud.

Jamil trained not only his mind though, but his body as well. The desert provided, as did the seas, but so too did they bring danger, it was important among the tribe that one's body be as sharp as their mind. And so he trained with the traditional weaponry of the Gerudo as he grew as well.

In time, as Jamil came of age, he would be entrusted with more responsibilities and more access to older records and relics, a fact that delighted the young man and stoked the flames of his curiosity and love of knowledge all the more. Being able to read from first hand accounts of journals and scrolls written by those who left their homeland so far ago was just as wondrous to him as exploring the new homeland they had made. Something that was a touch at odds with most other Chroniclers of the village.

Where most stayed close to home to assure the safety of the village, when Jamil was old enough he traveled further into the desert or off into the mainland, bringing back trinkets and stories shared by those who lived there. And which made him quite popular among the other youths and the old gossipy woman who weren't so spry as to go gallivanting about as they used to.

It was this love of stories and history, both within and without, that lead Jamil to wonder about their home they left behind. About the land of Hyrule. Old documents and passed down memories could only paint so much of a picture and no two viewed something in the exact same light, and further still many of their most wonderful relics had fallen into disrepair, none among them holding the knowledge on their upkeep. What had become of Hyrule? Of the Gerudo Desert tribe? The disaster that lead them to leave so long ago had surely passed by now, but did anything remain? Were there any yet alive who could tell their tales, let alone repair what was worn? And what of the other myriad peoples who lived in the realm? What stories did they have to share?

With all these questions and more burning in Jamil's mind, (though it took much begging, pleading, and pestering at all hours of the night) he finally gained the approval from the head Seeress, his mother, to begin a long journey to Hyrule with one of their sacred relics, the Mirror Shield. If there yet lived someone that could return the Mirror Shield to its former glory, they were certain that any number of the rest of their relics could be repaired the same.

And so, gathering food and water and supplies, Jamil left at first light, traveling eastward, out towards the land of Hyrule... But not before his mother gifted him one last change of clothing, Those of a Vai, along with a measure of knowledge. Many moons ago, long before their people left Hyrule, male Gerudo were even more rare than they were. There was no telling just how they would react. For his sake as well as their, perhaps a disguise might be in order.

Jamil found this a touch silly. Surely it wasn't so strange of an occurrence. Then again though, there were many superstitions among all peoples out there. Better to be safe than sorry. Perhaps going by his family name may not hurt either...

Abilities

Equipment		Offensive		Defensive
- Scimitar of the Eight: Similar in design to the Scimitar of the Seven in Hyrule, Jamil's sword is an expertly crafted scimitar of Gerudo design. Where it differs however is the inclusion of opals embedded into the crossguard. These enchanted gems allow the weapon to create water around it which can then be swung to fire sharp 'blades' of water at a distance. The water can also, of course, be used to fill canteens or douse flames. - Mirror Shield: An ancient Gerudo relic kept in relatively good condition, considering it's unknown age. Records indicate that this shield may have once upon a time been wielded by the Eighth Heroine during their journey. It was once described as having an immaculately mirrored surface capable of absorbing and reflecting nigh any magic thrown at it. However the surface has long since tarnished and is only capable of blocking spells rather than firing them back. Jamil hopes to find a Gerudo smith capable of restoring the sacred relic to its former glory. - Chronicler's Quill: The pink pinion of some kind of bird, this quill has been enchanted to, when activated with a turn of its nib and supplied with ink, write whatever its owner dictates to it. Aside from being used for the obvious tasks of writing letters or magical scrolls if one uses enchanted inks, the quill can also be used to temporarily write words of power along the body of those willing. At which time as so desired, can then be activated to trigger whatever spell they contained, after which the ink harmlessly burns away. - Wishcrafter's Tools: A collection of various divining instruments, magical foci, and other implements, these tools can be used to not only aid in the search of prophecy, but to bend fate to one's will. Chroniclers will often use these to help and bring about rains or good harvests to the village, but they can also be used to grant ones wishes if used properly. However it is not perfect when used for such. Many times what one wishes for and what one gets may not be what one expects. - Sand Rod: A seemingly simple rod holding a white gemstone in the center of its head, this handheld magical implement is a staple among the defenders of Jamil's village, allowing one to summon an manipulate sand in various ways. While limited in use outside of areas with already plentiful sand, inside those areas the Sand Rods can be a force to be reckoned with.		- Koume's Blaze: Simple yet effective, Jamil channels flame magic through his right hand, firing blasts or beams of fire and heat at a target. If using some sort of wand or channeling tool, these projectiles become larger and far more impactful - Kotake's Blizzard: In kind with Koume's Blaze, Jamil channels ice magic through his left hand, sending out frigid, cutting winds or sharp shards of ice or sleet towards a target. Similarly, if using a wand or other magical implement, the strength of the magic grows. - Nabooru's Guidance: Seers look not only towards the future to guide their people, but also towards the past to learn from it. Calling upon the wisdom of some of the Gerudo's greatest ancestors to aid them, Jamil is able to imbue himself or another with preternatural grace and strength for a period of time, allowing them to perform feats of skill and combat normally out of their reach. - Wrathful Wish: Sometimes violence is the answer. And in times like that, Jamil can take time to divine some harmful fate to befall a target. When done swiftly this can range from simply tripping, dropping their weapon, or some other negative effect. But with enough time to prepare and invoke his wish, can lead to disaster for the unfortunate soul. -Eight Waves Style: Channeling magic into his scimitar, Jamil creates seven identical swords made of water that hover and float around him. These aqueous blades mimic the swing of Jamil's own sword, even firing out water blades of their own, but can also be commanded to act semi-independently of him, either striking or blocking blows as the need arises.		- Koume's Comfort: Flames can represent not just destruction, but renewal as well. Conjuring a field of warm, healing flames, Jamil soothes aches and staunches the wounds of those in its radius. The longer this spell is channeled, the larger its area grows and the greater the restorative effects near the center. Channeling for too long can become tiring however. - Kotake's Cover: Ice can freeze but so too can it preserve and protect. Conjuring walls of ice for protective barriers, Jamil can block oncoming projectiles or other blows. The longer this spell is channeled, the harder the ice barriers become. However much like Koume's Comfort, channeling for too long becomes tiring. - The Eighth's Courage: Invoking the memory of one of the Gerudo's greatest if oft forgotten heroes, Jamil conjures forth a sphere of light that follows alongside him. Those in the radius of the light find their fears and anxieties melt away, allowing them to face whatever task is ahead of them with a clear head. - Warmest Wishes: Violence is not always the answer. And in times like that, Jamil can lend a helping hand for those who must fight. Taking some amount of time, Jamil can divine a beneficial wish to guide or aid the target. Arrows may fly truer, strikes may land harder, or they may find some treasure they seek more easily. With enough time to prepare and invoke his wish, these can oft times lead to great fortune on or off the battlefield. - What's In A Name?: Knowing something's True Name can give someone a good measure of power over it, but learning a True Name can take a deal of time. However even without someone or something's True Name, a name spoken with enough authority and magic behind it can give pause to even the mightiest of warriors. Speaking someone's name in such a way, Jamil issues a simple but difficult to resist order that the target struggles to not follow. If Jamil knows the target's True Name, resisting is nigh impossible. And while someone unscrupulous could use this to nefarious ends, Jamil uses it to diffuse situations or disarm opponents.

[Chaosome]

Makar

Name: Makar
Alias: Ghost of the Woods, The Leshy, Skull Kid
Pronouns: Yes, I am pro nouns, they're quite useful really. (It/Its)
Alignment: Upright, much of the time. (Chaotic Neutral)
Class: Chio says I have none! (Rogue)
Job: I take payment in pastries and pretty rocks please. (N/A)
Appearance: Standing at eight and a half feet tall when standing upright, Makar is of eerily long limb and in many ways resembles a Secretary Bird. The majority of its feathers are shades of iridescent green, ranging from forest to emerald, these however lighten in colour to near white at the tips of the feathers of its hands and tail, but darken to nearly black as they travel up towards its head. The feathers around its face long with its sharp beak are a snowy white and appear skull like. At the back of its head are several long pinions that cascade down and break the colour pattern in vibrant and chaotic hues. Whether this is natural or not, it never tells. Adding to its frightening appearance, its eyes are a bright and piercing shade of yellow, and rarely does Makar seem to blink.

Makar stands hunched over much of the time and is capable of contortion, making it appear smaller than it truly is. Its clothing mainly consists of an autumn orange tunic and a pair of green short pants, both of which appear to be made of some sort of plant-like material, but are far more resilient than they appear. At its waist it wears a belt made of twine and polished wooden rings from which hang several pouches. Atop its head it wears a wide brimmed, green hat of the same material with fronds and feathers pluming from the top, the hat or perhaps something inside of it makes a distinct rattling sound whenever Makar shakes its head. Around its neck hangs a pendant of green and black in the shape of an egg, the same kind from which it hatched.
Personality

Positive	Negative
+Playful +Empathetic +Open-Minded +Protective +Venturesome	-Erratic -Childish -Morbid -Overbearing -Vengeful

Background:
Have you heard the story? About five little eggs, stolen away from their nest in the dead of night? Whisked away to foreign lands with nothing but a note with their name and pendant shaped like their brightly painted eggs?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was only a handful of years before the end of the Calamity, two Rito met and one fell in love. The man had a charm to him, a well practiced air of serenity and kindness. A mask of many he wore in the pursuit of answers. Answers to questions that few asked, some that shouldn't have been asked. Some that shouldn't have answers. It was one of these naggingly curious questions that brought him into the arms of the woman, a woman who may have came to call that mask 'husband'.

They laughed, she loved, and in time a clutch had came. A single egg, he had thought to gain. A simple test subject for a simple question. But his sample size came in five, a fortuitous turn. The woman was delightfully, eagerly carrying on her family tradition. Painting the eggs in bright, beautiful colours, so that the joy may carry through as they incubated. A similar wooden pendant carved and painted would be a gift for the hatchling. To her it was a beautiful gift. To him it would be a way to keep track of the subjects... once they were in the wild. To him she gifted the chance to name them, and five names he gave. Each one holding little meaning to him, beyond the knowledge of their ancient legends or myths, but perhaps somewhat fitting for what was to come next.

Deep under the silent cover of night, the amoral Rito gathered the quintet of eggs, labeling each of them with a piece of parchment containing their names and their pendants, and stole off with them without so much as a look back. For nearly a week, he kept the growing eggs, carefully experimenting on them. Studying them. Exposing the shelled occupants to different types of magics and rituals, strange and risk... forbidden in some cases. Curious as to what effect, if any, it would have on their growth. Their skills. Their being.

Satisfied, for the moment, he would once again set off with his ill gotten eggs, off into the darkness of night. High above the canopies he flew, Makar's egg wrapped in cloth and affixed with a glider of sorts, the man set the egg free, letting it drift down into the dark fog of the Lost Woods. With a little nod to himself, the man turned and flew off once more into the night, two more eggs left to leave...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Lost Woods earned it name for many reasons. Perplexing fog, eerie sights, dangerous creatures. Sometimes it felt like even the trees itself rose purposefully to vex any who dared to step foot onto the land. And so it was no small miracle, or perhaps it was fate, that the bundled egg sailed its way between the thick branches and landed with a small thud in the center of the Korok Forest. Something that startled a great many of Koroks who lived there, who assumed that somehow someway they were under attack from something. Once they moment of panic had passed and the cowering ceased — in no small part to the Great Deku Tree's soothing — it became clear to them what it actually was... If not how it got there.

It clearly wasn't the egg of an average bird, unless they had somehow figured out how to swaddle and build gliders when they weren't looking. The wiser among the Koroks quickly deduced that it must be a Rito's egg, and suggested returning it to where it came from. To which the others just as quickly pointed out they knew not from whence it came. After much debating, bickering, and petitioning of the Great Deku Tree, it was finally decided that the Koroks would have the chance to hatch the egg. The Great Deku warned them, however, that even it was unsure of its chances of survival. Odd magics had been used on the egg, and they seemed to be clashing with one another. Still, the little Koroks wanted to try. After all, its odds here were better than trying to take it someplace they didn't know where was, especially when all they had was a pendant and a note to go on!

For weeks the Koroks doted upon the egg. Building it a warm nest, playing music to it of the evening, leaving little rocks and trinkets around it for luck. The shell was ever cold though with barely a stir or a shake. This didn't deter the optimistic creatures though, and so they kept it up day after day and night after night, there never was a moment that at least one Korok wasn't by its side tending to it. Eventually, it seemed that their dedication had paid off. Small cracks were beginning to form along the shell, and one by one the Koroks gathered round with growing anticipation as after several hours, the egg finally gave way to the Rito within...

Which fell to the ground with a sickening thud, the albumen spilling around it in a puddle. Motionless. Breathless. Lifeless. The hatchling had grown so large inside the shell that the egg had finally gave way, but it appeared that it was too little too late. The Koroks were despondant, all their efforts had been for naught. Many cried, some begged for guidance from the Great Deku, but in the end all that could be done was to honour the life that could have been, and dig for it a grave for it to be remembered by, where it might become one with the forest.

When the grave was at last prepared and the body cleaned, the Korok's began to lift it to carry it to its final resting place. The echoes of their tiny footsteps sounding thunderous in the somber silence of the wood. Thud thud... thud thud... They stopped just by the open grave, laying the RIto down beside it... and yet the rhythmic pounding grew louder still. Where was the source of the drum like pounding? Were they truly under attack of some kind this time? As the confusion grew and the sound of drumming mounted, a sharp, rattling gasp cut through the air as suddenly the hatching woke. Its heart beating fiercely for several moments longer before stilling to a steady — and living — beat. Its eyes looked up at the shocked and bewildered faces of the Koroks before they burst out in gleeful rejoicing! They hadn't failed! The Rito lived! The Koroks huddled around the bird and hugged it close, the bird looking just as perplexed before breaking out into happy, though oddly echoed giggling.

The news that the hatchling, Makar, had in fact lived, was quite the miracle. One that perplex and concerned the Great Deku in equal measure. What magics had been used on the poor creature's egg to cause such a reaction and change in its very being? Who would do such a thing? And for what purpose did they name the unborn child after one of the ancient heroes of the Koroks from so many eons ago? Questions to which the ancient tree had no answers. And though, concerned as they were by these troubling questions, even they were gladdened by the fact the Rito had survived. For it too was now a child of the forest, and under the guidance and protection of they and the Koroks.

Being raised by the Koroks was a bit of a mixed bag for the Rito. On the one hand it never lacked for entertainment or joy or food, however many of the dwellings and furniture were sized for the pint sized Koroks who rarely grew quite as large as Hetsu. On top of which their methods of flight, using twirling seeds, didn't quite work for the growing avian, and so it had to learn from watching birds and bats withing the forest. Which inevitably resulted in a habit of it hanging from the rafters or branches of the village's trees for rest.

Things were not all fun and games for the Koroks either, being forest sprites as they were, it was trial and error finding the right foods or the right ways to teach them things that seemed simple to them. Like the perfect pranks or how to disappear from sight. But what was easy for them to reach was about the natural world, the cycle of life and death, and how to show ones respect to nature. Something that felt as natural as breathing to Makar. All the while, the Great Deku Tree kept an eye on the growing Rito, gladdened by fledgling's growth, even if it was takings its place among the most mischievous of his children. It even took to the Korok's lesson of nature magic like a fish to water.

And, for as glad as the Great Deku was for this, the wizened tree had a breadth of concerns... As Makar grew, its fascination grew towards the morbid. It started with simple things: taking the time to observe the decaying leaves, watching the mushrooms grow. But in time it began seeking out creatures and monsters on the cusp of death, watching curiously as they passed from one life to the next. It spent more and more time wandering the forest as time went on, observing these moments both quiet and loud. However, it wasn't until the Koroks noticed Makar talking to things they couldn't see that they too finally became worried — an irony that only the Great Deku Tree and some of the wiser Koroks understood — that the Tree beckoned it to explain its odd behaviours.

While Makar couldn't really explain the pull it felt towards these things, it was however able to easily explain that it could still see those who had died all around. It could speak with them, interact with them, it even ate the ghost of a bug to see if it could. The Great Deku could only surmise it had something to do with the varied magics that had suffused Makar's egg and the Rito's own return from death that let it treat with the afterlife so easily. And while the mighty tree could offer it no advice on how to train or coax its powers, the Great Deku encouraged Makar to do so with wisdom, for just as there is beauty in life so too is there in death.

As time passed and Makar grew, so too did its powers, both natural and supernatural. It could speak and hear spirits more clearly, it could even give them form among the land of the living for a time. Makar began traveling the woods, using its powers to not only protect the wood from monsters both living and dead that sought to harm it, but also to guide lost souls — living and otherwise — out of the forest. Of course, more often than naught the way Makar did this was by pranking or otherwise harmlessly terrorizing the poor individuals to chase them back to the entrance. These sightings of course gave rise to no small amount of rumours about a strange being in the fog, not that Makar ever got to hear a one of them.

During the time of the Upheaval, the Koroks did not see much of Makar. It was keeping itself busy doing what it could to keep the forest safe from any foul beasts that dared to infringe upon its home. When things were calm once more and Makar felt the woods safe enough for it to do so, it returned home, but not alone. A quartet of spirits Makar had met by the edge of the forest followed along with it, the sisters having bound themselves in service to Makar both out of curiosity and a desire to interact with the living world, even if it were only in a limited capacity, and for reasons yet their own. In exchange they promised to help the young Rito learn where his preternatural magics came from, train his spiritual prowess, and to protect its home.

Though wary of these strange spirits, The Great Deku Tree could sense no true malice or evil from the beings, and even agreed that the answers they sought lay beyond the Lost Woods. And so with the Tree's blessing, and a very stuffed pack of snacks from the Koroks, Makar would set off into Hyrule proper in search of answers! But the question is, what is the question?

Abilities

Equipment		Offensive		Defensive
- The Four Sisters: While not physically equipment, four ghostly sisters: Joelle, Beth, Amy, and Meg, often manifest as baubles hanging from Makar's headfeathers. Each have their own distinct personality, and they all have their reasons for choosing to bind themselves to and aid the Rito. - Deku Flute: A simple, yet beautifully handcrafted flute made of wood and decorated with intricate designs of leaves and flowers along its body. Aside from making beautiful if oft times eerie music, Makar can also use it as a blowgun should the need or desire arise. - Everburning Torch: A gift to Makar from the Four Sisters it befriended. It doubles not only as a torch that can't be put out by water or wind, only by snuffing it directly, but with their assistance can also be used to fling spiritual flame to burn, hinder, or to cause illusions. - Plentiful Pouches: Several handy pouches of varying size, some carrying treats, others carrying blowdarts or shiny trinkets and baubles that Makar has found in the woods and along his travels. - Forest-blessed Garments: Makar's clothing, while hardly the most fashion forward, are blessed by the Great Deku Tree to be as tough as armour and as light as leaves. The hat even has several handy pockets hidden along the inside of it where it keeps a collection of Korok Seeds.		- Spirit Shunt: By either grasping and pulling or by the thrust of an open palm, Makar can temporarily excise the soul of a living being from its body. While the body is empty, it sits there lifelessly but is otherwise unharmed. Should the being's soul touch its body, they regain control. However should another spirit possess the body first, it gains control of the body until its owner pushes them out. So too however can the shunted spirit inhabit, or be forced to inhabit, another soulless body should one be nearby. Whatever the case, the effects last up to three days, at which point the souls snap back to where they belong. - Soul Drain: With some form of contact Makar is able to drain the life force of a soul, gaining strength and insight from the energy absorbed. For a living soul this manifests as lethargy or fatigue, but souls of the departed could be consumed entirely with this process. - Nature's Rage: Placing its palms upon the ground, Makar channels a surge of living energy into the earth, causing a sudden upsurge of plants and vines to rush forth towards a target to bind or bash or fling as the Rito needs. - Last Rites: Infusing its flute with magic and playing a chilling tune, Makar can use its magic to bring spirits back from the dead, giving them a temporary body made of solidified magic. Depending on the tune played, the dead either has free will or is merely a puppet. With enough energy expended into the music, Makar can conjure a multitude of the dead at once. These simulacrum bodies however do not last forever... Something the Sisters hope to rectify. -Cycle's Grasp: With the proper necrotic energies, Makar can accelerate the state decay, causing metal to rust, wood to rot, or fabric to fray. However with living energies, the reverse is true as well, mending tears in armour, returning blades to a polished sheen, or even mending cracks in stone.		- Spirit Shift: Makar was born dead, in a way it is its natural state as much as life is. With proper focus, Makar can take this state at will, becoming a spirit for a time. This allows it to go invisible or intangible at will or to even possess soulless bodies. Either those recently deceased or those it created itself. While in this state, Makar can extend some of the benefits to those it touches, such as being able to move through walls. - Soul Shield: Utilizing soul magic, Makar conjures a spiritual shield around itself or others, protecting them from vengeful spirits or dark curses for a time. The nature of this magic also revitalizes the affected's energy for a time. - Farore's Wind: By meditating for a moment, Makar can leave a fragment of its soul behind in a location. To those with spiritual connections, this manifests as a swirling, light green wisp of energy. With a moment's concentration, Makar can then summon a gust of spectral wind to whisk them away to where this mote of its soul resides. - Nature's Fugue: Playing its music to the world, Makar calls for blessing of life, and the world answers in kind. But life is unpredictable, could it be a blessing of speed? The mending of wounds? Or simply a kindly squirrel visiting from a far with a shared meal? Who can say what wonders nature will bring. - Halt the Cycle: Concentrating deeply upon itself or another, Makar can, for a short time, sever the ties to the cycle of life and death. Any injuries inflicted upon those affected, no matter how severe, will swiftly heal and staunch, even the most deadly of blows. However after its energy is expended on this spell, Makar is very likely to go unconscious, leaving it vulnerable.