Dirzryn DeVagrant (again)

We were not expecting to see Dirzryn again, as our very first interviewee it was clear he disliked sitting for a portrait. A cocky and self-assured man he only plays formalities when he wants something. Sure enough he arrives and graces us with false pleasantries in order to query us about Aezyln’s recent visit. He is clearly not concerned with locating his brother but is rather interested with the workings of our studio and the questions we pose to our candidates.

As he is most obviously fishing for information, we propose that he sits again, in front of our shiny new team of artists and takes the questions for himself. He complies despite the fact it displeases him. Playing tenuous games however is somewhat a speciality of his. At 78 years of age and 5ft 10 in high Dirzryn is freakishly tall for his species.

He is a newly appointed leader. He has had few years governing affairs and ‘slouching from house to house’ as those below him would like to think. The now deceased man who took head position before Dirzryn was well loved and revered; Raeid A'Sahr was everything the people wanted. Dirzryn on the other hand is far too tall and comes from an impoverished background; the people hate him with more reverence than they loved Raeid. This is a factoid that Ungus gleefully likes to reference in between rubbing his greedy little fingers and sneering.

Dirzryn doesn’t care so much for politics; he knows the true nature of this former puppet Raeid. We would like to say he is too kind to tell his people, but as he is quite an arsehole who knows how much they hate him we figure he finds it more an amusing joke. He doesn’t care for the simple men and clarifies, ‘I do not pander to civilian opinion and we have smaller councils to fix those problems. I simply serve my Lord as he asks.’

The Lord he serves is Lukas Graye, yet this subject appears to be a sour one, or at least one he will not speak of at length. He also has nothing to say of his family apart from, ‘I never knew them.’

He bears an air of calm and sedateness around him that is unsettling, quite like the quiet precursor to a storm.

This magical aura is one that settles and rises with his temperament and sometimes catches the feathers of his hair or the trail ends of his long coat. His glyphs occasionally illuminate and the electrics in the room falter. We cite that he is deemed one of the most powerful Mages currently in existence; he is neither boastful nor bashful in admittance of this fact, unfazed he nods, ‘so I am told,’ and then stares blankly at us again.  

His stare is cold with the intensity of fire, a captivating and purposeful icy blaze.  His eyes are bright and yet darkly unfathomable as though he has mastered masking his soul from those who would brave his hardened gaze. His overall expression is equally difficult to read, his lips rarely breech the edge of a smile, his body language calculated and gestures precise. This man leaves nothing to chance and trusts no one. Like a noble and practised master of his skill he judges the situation carefully and concisely before making his move.

We understand he was a high ranked tactician and warrior in the last Great War, yet again he has little to say on the matter. We really wanted to ask how many thousands of men he had slain but the slight and sharp pinch of his brow when we pondered the amount of  ‘bloodshed’ made us realise it was a stupid question and that we quite like having our arteries, organs and brains in the places that nature intended.

Dirzryn has a quick tongue and short patience. He appears aggravated beneath the surface, his mind is busy elsewhere and he resents being pestered. ‘May I now leave?’ he pertinently asks the steel bracer on his left arm catching the light as he twists his hand in questioning.

We know he only asked to be polite and dare not say no. We are well aware that he could leave anytime he wanted. As he exits the energy in the room settles, the lights tick back up to full and those of nervous disposition find breathing space.

Karstine Maranay Zeterra

Karst exudes a persona of instant charm. She is feisty and playful from the very first word. We let her smoke a roll-up during the interview as the room still stinks from the cigars Braus constantly chuffed. Aged 24 and at 5ft 6in tall Karst has a clear sense of her own identity. Her brilliant green eyes flash with a flirtatious defiance. She toys with us at first, acts a little coy and comes off as rather cloying until she realises we aren’t here to steal her smokes or coins.

A very clever and independent woman Karst knows too well how to get the better of her opponent. As half-Felid we are surprised she allows us to call her by one name alone, especially as that name sounds like a forename. (For those who aren’t in the know Felids traditionally stick to being called by a combination of surname and forename ((see Si’Ra/Dro’Zar/Kha'Rii)) it has been a long standing tradition and form of politeness to call Felids primarily by surname.) Karst however denounced her true Felid name and won’t tell us what it was. She now calls herself Karstine Maranay Zeterra. We can’t be sure where those names come from but are quite certain we might get hot ash flicked in our eyes if we ask.

She has a mostly friendly disposition to everyone she meets and indulges in what she deems as ‘playful ribbing.’ She likes pranks and uses sarcasm as though opiate dependant on it. Her off-colour jokes don’t go down very well but we guess she didn’t tell them to please us. 

Her fiery nature makes her difficult to be around at times and she is prone to outbursts of anger. Still her main goal appears to be seeking entertainment, a talented and yet bored woman who bears a half-mouthed grin on her face and a sparkle in her eyes.

Karst’s overall philosophy on life is, in her words, ‘too damned short not to have fun with.’

Can we ‘like’ or thumb this up more than once?

Omo Odomko

At first glance we panicked and thought a savage wild beast had broken into our studio. It took several moments for us to realise (well those of us who didn’t bolt straight out of the emergency exit) that this hulking beast was actually the man we were set to interview. 

As an Anthropomorphic Komodo Dragon Omo is extremely muscular and clearly unaware of the power in his limbs, his skin too boasts a tough hyde of hardened dark green scales that make him almost impervious to physical attacks and pain. Standing at a colossal 7ft and 3in tall and as impressively broad Omo is every inch the brute he appears to be. Aggressive, untrusting and fierce we are relieved that his lifelong partner Ake chose to be in attendance. Ake is the only one able to calm Omo and in return he protects her with his life.

The two of them work as Shrine Guardians. They never disclose the location of the shrine, nor what it is they are protecting or worshipping. Omo isn’t the perceptive or intelligent sort; in fact we are surprised he is able to string more than two words together.  Ake explains several things on his behalf, such as the fact he is around 32 years old and that their dedication to protect the shrine is born of passion and love for their surroundings. 

This statement both puzzles and amuses us as we try to imagine Omo as a ‘peace and love’ hippy. 

The two massive Scimitars he refuses to put down tell us otherwise, we’re pretty sure most hippies don’t carry anything more than maybe a small knife to cut resin. Ake tells us Omo never goes anywhere without his Scimitars. Then just to reassure us further she reveals that he literally possesses inhuman strength and can uproot trees with ease.

Ake smiles at this in a way we find unnerving and Omo seems to be restless again, the studio confuses him greatly and he keeps trying to study the equipment by breaking it. At least we hope he broke the lighting out of curiosity rather than suppressed rage.

Needless to say it was a relief when he left and we pray that he doesn’t return when we interview Ake. In fact can we pray to their shrine for this, sacrifice a small crew member maybe?

Aezlyn DeVagrant

Aezlyn is a hardworking, understated and friendly fellow. Standing a haughty 5ft 1in tall and at 82 years old he is the youngest of Dirzryn’s brothers. The two of them never really knew their father Dachlyn before he passed away and hence Aezyln bonded well with his younger sibling. He wasn’t old enough at the time of their father’s death to understand the shame of having a fourth child in the family. In drow culture having more than three children is deemed very taboo.

The two older boys, Xiaz and Erynai have a grudge against Dirzryn; they see him as one who brought shame upon their family, worse still even as a toddler Dirzryn grew unnaturally tall. He was removed from the household at an early age to study magic as it became clear he was very skilled. Aezlyn also had the privilege of education whereas Xiaz and Erynai were never gifted such an opportunity. Resentment in the family runs deep. Their house has always been a poor one, one propped up by long hours of graft and working the land in order to bring supper to the table.

Xiaz is the eldest and shortest in both stature and temperament, he is a lot like their father. Erynai isn’t quite so stern but is also a man who understands the way the world works in terms of sweat and physical effort. Aezlyn on the other hand is a bit of a jovial dreamer, a soft touch pampered with schooling who never had to weather the burden of supporting others.

Instead Aezyln was able to cultivate alternate skills. He is quite a fine craftsman, knows a little about sword-smithing and has an interest in alchemy. He made a small patch in their garden to grow alchemic plants. Xiaz trashed this garden because he found it distasteful. Xiaz hates all of Aezylns advances, he hates Dirzryn most of all and refutes anything to do with magic or mage skills.

The three of them work several jobs to make ends meet. When their mother’s health failed they knew that upkeep of the crops was down to them alongside not only the physical labour but also the processing and accounts she used to keep. Aezyln explains that this is the point he knew he was in the wrong place. A drifter and dreamer he could not stay and aid with the upkeep. His brothers were so efficient and he didn’t really understand them. 

Now he is looking for Dirzryn, not for money although money would help. He has hazy golden memories of their time together. Aezyln does not believe the current news of Dirzryn’s evil conquests. The person he grew up with was not cold hearted. He is not interested in Dirzryn’s wealth per-say but does hope that his brother will offer to help him set up a small business in alchemy, be it in monetary forms, in teaching or simply some advice. Since Dirzryn is a famed and renowned mage, and now the highest ranking drow to serve under Luka, Aezlyn assumes he will be able to reconnect and glean something. All Aezyln wants is to set up a new alchemic garden.

Maybe we are suckers or he is a better grafter than we realise. However being so friendly and humble we all willingly gave up a few coins to help him start his garden.

Pandora Young

Pandora Young is a super-skinny 17year old. At 5ft 8in tall she looks almost anorexic and yet is one of those teens who can stuff vast amounts of all-you-can-eat into their mouths without gaining an iota of fat. This instantly makes some of the larger ‘constantly-on-a-diet’ women in our office hate her. 

Their jealousy soon dissolves when they realise that Pandora, or Panda as she likes to be known is completely bat-shit crazy. A whirlwind in her own right Panda has more colours of mood than a psychedelic rainbow. She possesses a shorter attention span than a kid with ADD on a sugar and caffeine rush, less common sense than a schizophrenic on LSD and all the subtly of a badly aimed brick.

 

In fact the only way we could get her to stand still to capture an inexpressive pose was to lie and pretend we were shooting an advert or modelling campaign. Thankfully one blank sash was sufficient enough to convince her we were professional agency scouts. We had prepared a lie and decided to tell her that our non-existent logo would be added to the sash after processing but she never questioned the fact that it was blank. 

 

Needless to say then that Panda loves to pose and heartily indorses her daddies shoe company. She works in advertising and has written a book about shoes called ‘extended wardrobatics.’  It dismays us that any reputable publisher would allow such a thing to print but realise that the amount of money her daddy offered was probably too good to refuse.

 

In the seconds it took anyone to process that thought Panda got distracted and dashed off to change outfit. She returned all silly grins girlish twirls and spiky pigtails with a different hair colour. We wanted to ask how she managed to switch the colour so swiftly but before anyone could utter a word the girl went off on another random tangent.  This is also about the point our employees switched off and stopped making notes.

 

To summarise the notes made, Panda is energetic, excitable, fun and friendly but also extremely forgetful, most of her thoughts evaporate in seconds. She is rather manic, a nice but nuts persona who although mad as a box of frogs does mean well. Panda is completely indecisive and utterly annoying. Her short attention span and lack of any sentient memory means she finds it particularly hard to retain information. We mean ANY information, its fairly frustrating to try and create a portrait whilst the subject keeps asking for the water fountain, then forgets where it is, or where she is, then laughs and sits and stands and sits and finally asks again, ‘where is the water fountain?’ I think a few employees went home to drink themselves into normality after meeting her.

 

We’ve had so many miserable, dead-pan and cold-fish occasions with other interviewees that we never dreamed we’d revere those moments. Honestly, there is no way to shut this girl up.

Jericho Braskrau

We are greeted with a man who oozes testosterone and an unfaltering self-belief. With his chest puffed wide, he takes a slow and pronounced saunter toward his designated seat. His has scarce hitched up his grubby jeans or said hello before he demands, ‘call me Braus, little beauties.’ He throws a cheeky wink at us and sucks deeply on his cigar. 

His initial appearance is akin to a bad reincarnation of the Wild West. A cowboy wannabe who figured chewing tar and cultivating wrinkles would suffice. Now this man likes to smoke, constantly. His shirt pocket is stocked with cigars. He demonstrates his mastery in the art of blowing smoke-rings much to the disdain of the many non-smokers present.

His dialect is as almost as thick as his weather-beaten skin. Standing at 6ft tall Braus certainly looks older than his 44 years. Though we imagine keeping up such an inane banter must take its toll. He has broad shoulders and a black gun holster strapped around his bulging hips. He says he likes wenches, maids and brothels. Dare we suggest he likes men also? He never admits as such but we suspect Braus to be quite sexually liberated and uninhibited.

He frequently scrapes the remnants of golden hair over his scalp as though he doesn’t realise he is beyond balding.

He appears to think that all women love him and all men want to be him. Both sexes in the office can confirm that he is as proportionately wrong about this fact as he is sure of it.

Still Braus is quietly proud and even when hurt refuses to believe that anyone can dislike him. We cannot deny that persistence is a great quality to have but there is a distinct line between standing up for who you are and smothering your audience with every faecal smattering of your persona. Overbearing is a bit of an understatement, Braus loves being centre of attention, with his booming voice he declares that he is the best at everything he applies himself to. He is certainly the one with the loudest voice, the one most pronounced and the one willing to grab the attention of any drunken rabble by the ears and shake them despite the consequences. Undoubtedly Braus can handle himself and others when required. He is quite the seasoned character.

His one unusual talent is that is able to ‘see’ people’s names. He is unable to describe quite how the ability works but states that he has always been able to read birth names, despite any pseudonym the person might be currently using. He describes it as a form of mind-reading, one that is limited to seeing names and nothing else which quite frankly sounds like a rather useless talent. Braus however makes a living out of finding people and as it happens, locating missing persons or weeding out spies is quite heavily reliant on knowing their names.

It is clear he thinks that his terrible one-liners and lusty advances are charming and welcome. The same can be said for his many dull anecdotes.  It comes off as rather greasy and seedy, that said Braus is actually very polite and congenial to all he meets. He has no ill intentions and not a bad bone in his body. Aside from a very inflated ego he is harmless and always willing to help.

He might be a touch misguided and vastly misogynistic alongside smelling like a horse’s backside, still his heart is in the right place.  Helping others is his goal and a noble one at that. We can’t all be great at compassion but it is obvious that his efforts are heartfelt even if he does get it repeatedly wrong.

Naiad Oakwood

Naiad Oakwood is 24 yrs old and 5ft 3in tall. Most relatives and friends shorten her name to Nai which she finds quite appealing; some call her Ni-Ni which she loathes. Arian and Kale often tease her with ‘Ni-Ni,’ which she suspects is because they know she hates it.

Despite the fact that her lurid red skin is offensive to anyone with a hangover, Naiad’s face has a strange allure that is just quirky enough to make us reassess our idioms of beauty yet also a touch too creepy for us to deem truly attractive. They do say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder however in this instance Nai is likely the one to be holding our plucked-out eyeballs.

She is the playful sort with an outward persona that could be mistaken for a girl much younger than her years. She is an energetic, eager, and bubbly soul who drinks wine as though the nectar of gods were running dry. She may act innocent but is far from it. Her idea of play consists of some rather dark contraventions to normality. She appears to disassociate actions and consequences and therefore has little sense of social, political or moral correctness. Most of life is merely a game to her. Being invulnerable to weaponry and possessing healing abilities are likely the reasons she does not understand the concept of suffering.

Knowing she serves Luka we are less surprised that Naiad has a skewed perspective of reality. She sees little ill in certain heinous acts, for example, murder is more of a chore to her than a worry. It’s as though there is a wire missing in her head, specifically the one that identifies the difference between good and evil. So far as she has ever known war is play, and no-one she likes gets hurt or dies.

She pops and zings in off-balance ways. An utter mismatch when you realise that concentration and physical balance is something that as a professional circus performer Naiad knows better than most. Being part Damselfly obviously gifts her with a few unique abilities. Flight is the least of these. She is able to bend and flex in a way that would make even the best contortionist green with envy. Her one learnt and cultivated skill is healing others, a talent at which she greatly excels.

Her translucent wings are impressive no doubt. A few of us wince at the many times we’ve plucked the wings from crane flies, lacewings and all manner of bugs, we secretly wonder if it would hurt to pluck those huge appendages out and begin to feel bad about the idea until she reveals that she also loved plucking the wings from smaller insects as a child. This left us a little lost for words. After all, wouldn’t that be like us regular folk going around pulling the toenails from anyone smaller than us? 

To say her heart is as pure as the driven snow is ironically apt; pure in its icy intention, unrelenting and defiant. Her anarchistic goals are without question in her mind.

Nai may be a little freaky but we like her a lot.