Lester Wye

Lester Wye is a happy-go-lucky soul, the last in a long line of Wye’s he is a jovial and talkative 19yr old who bears a smile as broad as his shoulders. Ever cheerful and warm, he is as polite as he is clumsy and somehow manages to trip over every taped-down wire in the room.

Standing 5ft 7in tall he explains he is part-Avian but that he was born with broken wings. He seems entirely at ease when talking about this disability. Lester’s confidence in his own skin is quite clear, arriving shirtless despite sporting a pot belly shows his love of food to be similarly apparent. Whilst soft around the edges Lester proves to be a thick-skinned soul, one who never takes taunts to heart and rarely thinks ill of others. 

He works as a postman, hand delivering mail to villagers on the treacherous mountaintop of Naiva. Impressively he does his entire round on foot and always in record time. Whilst Lester’s heritage may have caused him to be born with malfunctioning wings it also gifted him with powerful legs and amazing speed. It did apparently also scrimp on the common sense and grace. It doesn’t surprise us to learn that Lester is often falling down potholes, running into signposts or otherwise injuring himself. Despite this fact, Lester doesn’t have a single scar and tells us he has never suffered any lasting repercussions from his inherent clumsiness. (Which is a blessing especially as a rather hefty piece of our equipment mysteriously fell on him mid-interview.) It is at this point we realised why Lester refused to remove his goggles and helmet when asked.

In his spare time Lester likes to collect things and then arrange them on his bedroom shelf. Although he professes that his mother sometimes throws away his precious finds because she thinks they are nothing but junk. He seems mightily pleased to own a devils claw shell that he stumbled over on holiday and when he says ‘stumbled’ we assume he means literally. From his pocket he reveals his latest addition, a shard of green glass that bounced off his goggles on the way here. Then he shows off his prized possession, a curious bit of orange carnelian. He proudly proclaims that the gem struck him on the head one afternoon and thus he now carries it everywhere. We’re not sure what relevance being struck on the head by this particular object has aside the fact it may have knocked out whatever little sense Lester had to begin with.

Safe to say he’s not the brightest of teens and certainly one who seems to have an awful lot of bad luck. So much so that his friends and family have coined the phrase, ‘If an anvil were to fall from the sky it would land on Lester Wye.’

We couldn’t have put it better ourselves.

Syl'Vaein Freya

Syl’Vaein is certainly a very well groomed, preened and pampered Lady. Her attire drips with jewels. To look at she appears the epitome of wealth. She reeks of a high class prosperity that we lowly reporters can merely dream of. In fact even I might give my right eye for just one of the myriad of gems set into her overly-long ears.  Her manner is less sparkling.  We are informed to call her Lady Freya, or as she pompously chirps, ‘if you must use shortened informalities, then simply call me Vay.’

‘Vay?’ We guess she dislikes being called Syl, even if it is the more logical shortening. At this venture we become uncertain about our questioning. Thankfully she openly tells us that she is 59 years old. We guessed 44 by her countenance. However age isn’t really one of Syl’Vaein’s concerns, nor is her height. She stands at 6ft 1in, perhaps quite tall for a lady but very average for her race. Still no-one dare mention the word ‘average.’

She tells us that her current position is as an ambassadress for her kin. Back in her younger years she used to run the entire Freyan estate, a job she describes as terribly dull. Her duties involved a very tight schedule that comprised of consorting with aristocracy in fusty meeting halls, passing and upholding laws whilst also trying to keep the wayward youngsters, staff and finances in line. ‘Obviously,’ she reiterates, ‘terribly dull.’

Having served her time as head she now freely manages personnel and public relations, she also oversees the household expenditures. This basically translates to a life of shopping sprees followed by tea with other stuffed-up nobles in various locations across the globe. She often travels alongside Emmus Arius as their duties fall parallel. The two have a long history. Whilst well aware of Emmus’ affection for her she seems impervious to his charms.

No-one in the office is jealous at all. Nope not a single one here would like to take on her terribly dull lifestyle, nor catch Emmus’ eye, at all, ever, honest, we swear it.

Tallis Mann

Tallis is aged 54 and although he only stands a meagre 5ft 2in tall he is forcefully broad and well-built for a man of his years. His body appears to comprise of bulky sinews, muscles, and those gorged type of pulsating veins that pop out of one’s neck. His eyes are dark and hold a cinematic flicker of events that cannot be unseen.   

His expression seems to be fixed in a serious glare of ire and impatience. Perhaps the wind changed, or more likely he has harnessed the essence of grumpy old man and has been injecting it ever since. He dislikes everything and everyone. He is clearly weathered by both time and experience and we get the impression he quietly enjoys being a grumpy old bull.

In his younger years he was a great warrior, a powerful and feared General. Outside the field he was astute, a capable constructor of complex strategies. Yet in the midst of battle Tallis was renowned for having a temperament of fire, a man who would scarce think before barging into the opposition. His fellow soldiers will tell you he was a stubborn bull, not to be enraged lest the ‘red mist’ cloud over and his ferocity should be unleashed. When enraged back then, we are told he was capable of terrible violence.

Now he is retired. 

Lukas granted him charge of one stronghold which must be a major fall from General to a job that equates as a glorified butler. Working as a servant does not suit him well, however being in charge of the upkeep of Draygun manor is important to him. Acquiring this stronghold was his primary achievement in days past thus it is fitting he is now master of the house. He is instructed by Lukas to accommodate certain important guests, at present the most frequent visitors are Dirzryn and Ungus.  Considering his proud and prolific past we imagine it must peeve Tallis a great deal to be ordered around by the likes of Ungus. 

These days he rarely leaves the mansion. That said his judgement is still not to be questioned. When he asks us for water we skittle like our lives depend on it. Who better to remind the elitist how pathetic they are?

Tallis deserves every iota of respect he gets and he has certainly earned it from us.

Emmus Arius

Emmus Arius is 35years old and  5ft 7in tall. He is a well-mannered, calm, cool and collected vampire. He never tries to be a smooth talker yet words trip off his tongue like butter. He has entrancing saffron eyes and is able to encapsulate a sense of tranquillity in his audience.  His presence is soothing without being nullifying, like good aloe, he puts us at ease even if some of his personal ethics are hard to swallow. 

He is not a direct brother of Eyzith, or Kale but is a descendant of the first Arius. His maker was partner to Eyzith’s creator, both of whom were well respected individuals.

Despite his wealth Emmus is not the egotistical sort, he seems content to discuss any topic from the price of bread to that state of world economy. He is also not without a sense of humour. Pleasant and plain enough for us to fantasise about, Emmus succeeds in charming; if we were to coin a sexy silver fox it probably would be him.

It’s almost needless to say that the epitome of an old fashioned gentleman is a persona that makes us lovers of men weak at the knees, -as long as we refrain from thinking how he might use this aspect to groom us for supper.