Race: A pseudo-humanoid. The only visible difference between him and a normal human is the lack of any hair aside from that upon his scalp and eyebrows.
Age: Unknown, but he takes the form of a beautiful 'youth' (Used in the classical sense) in his early twenties.
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Weight: 175 lbs
Hair: The golden color of ripe wheat glistening in the light of the setting sun. The length of it sinking down to his mid thigh.
He has a very effeminate form, even down to his bone structure. If not for his voice he would indeed be mistaken for a woman at times. His voice has the tone of one well cultured and the faint accent of an aristocrat from the times of the British colonial days. As for an outfit, he is clothed in an almost form fitting sleeveless shirt. His pants/slacks are much looser though. Over that, he wears a snow white long coat that reaches to just below his knees. The only other items are a pair of dark leather boots that have a mildly polished look about them. He has no qualms in using his natural beauty to attract attention, and he is not above exploiting it either. Though this may make him seem rather vain, and he is actually, his one mark of true vanity he acknowledges is his hair. Any attempts to disturb or mess with it or, powers forbid, damage it will be looked upon as one with a death wish. One final thing is that his incisors are much more developed than a normal human's. Not quite the length of a vampire's but easily comparable in how sharp they are.
Race: Human... Or something like that.
Age: Very hard to tell, being an immortal and all. He looks like he is about twenty-six or so.
Alignment: Neutral Good
Weight: 183 lbs
Hair: Pure white and falling to just below his shoulder blades. Usually in a pony tail.
Eyes: Crystal blue
Ispen seems to have taken the idea of a wandering cowboy to heart. Even right down to his clothing. With a stylized dark combat vest and metal tipped shoes being the only major deviants, he wears a black hat, a faded powder blue shirt, and worn khaki colored pants. The vest does have a small image on the shoulder though, picturing a spinning wheel as it makes thread. His belt has many slots for bullets and he carries a long barreled revolver on his left side. His right hand has been replaced with a blue and gunmetal black robotic hand which also has an added feature to act as a hidden firearm. The hand looks more like a glove and can only be seen as otherwise when he has it rotate to odd angles. Something he does every so often as it is pretty funny sometimes.
Always up for a laugh, Ispen is often seen drinking his way through some ale or another at the nearest bar. A lover of jokes and a teller of stories, he is a kind individual who has that friendly sort of shine in his eye and quite a few soft spots in his heart.
He does seem to have a bit of a way with the fourth wall though... That is to say, they have agreed to disagree. A lot...
Race: Light Spirit in a human form
Age: Seemingly of late teens. Placed at seventeen or eighteen if one had to guess.
Weight: 157 lbs
Hair: Silvery-white, almost snowy and is down to his jawline
Eyes: Clear sky blue with a kind twinkle to them
Nothing quite out of the ordinary, Celisil is of the leaner builds and is tanned like someone who works in the sun often. His usual garbs are more often then not a kahky or denm set of slacks with a shirt in the spectrum of cool colors, mostly blues and greens. In the spring and summer months, he is seen wearing a vest while the cooler times see a green-brown hoodie with overly long sleeves. That aside, the only unusual part of him is merely the fact he has his left arm in bandages at all times....
Age: About Thrity-five
Alignment: Whatever one that keeps him from harm at the moment. (Neutral-ish)
Height: 5'5.. Kinda sort for his race
Weight: 130 lbs
Hair: ...They don't have hair... And wigs make him itchy.
Eyes: The same milk-white of the rest of his race save for a blue-ish tint to the center of his
He looks like a short-ish person of his race with a sort of scrawny look. His tentacles are a bit more dexterous than those of his kin and his wet-suit is stylized with a design of ocean waves on the sleaves and hemming but not too horribly different than a regular mindflayer. He carries around a tattered umbrella that has a stone of comfort in the handle (An invention of the mindflayers that emit desired feelings at the one holding it or standing in proximity of it.) and has taken to wearing a black top hat. He isn't nearly as fearsome as the rest of his kin, instead being almost a kind soul.
Mr. Spooch is a very cowardly mindflayer. Known more to just run and hide rather than fight, he never did gain much in the way of battle experience. When it was discovered that he had developed the ability to use magic by his force of will alone (See: became a sorcerer), he was shunned a bit more than he had been for his lack of ambition. Eventualy he decided to work more on these powers and his love of building gadgets and for this he was excized from his community. With only the wet-suit on his back and his umbrella that held a comfort emotive stone, he left his kin behind half in sorrow and half in rage. It was expected that someone would see him and slay him for being what he was out in the open but as he was stumbling through the forest, he was discovered by a particular harlequin who jokingly claimed that it would eat his brains... One very long chase later, He wound up hiding in the tavern under his umbrella untill he found out that the harlequin had just been playing around... And it was there that he decided to cast off his name for something more fitting... Or rather, he decided to assume a psudonym given to him by the harlequin as his old name was pretty much dirt and worthless now.
Now he spends his time slowly coming out of his shell of fear instilled in him while he was in his birthplace and playing at building whatever item comes to mind. Often they have many useless parts and sometimes go wrong but there are several good ideas in there. His most usefull creation to date is a device that gathers psychic energy released by sleeping and dreaming people so that he would not need to eat any surfacer's brains to live. Or get him in any sort of trouble for that matter.