[Xanth]

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Hello and welcome to Elysia. I am Xanth, oft-times referred to as The Creator, though I am far from powerful enough to have created a world as diverse as Earth.

I flit around Elysia to my heart's content. I admit to being rather nosy, actually, it is a failing that my Aide, Dazadi, reminds me of frequently. If she were not so handy to have around, I may have throttled her before now, but as she is a Dark Angel - quite a powerful one, at that - she has proven herself worthy of life far too often for me to let my anger get the better of me. Besides that, she is a good friend also.

When I am not ensuring that the world runs smoothly, I like nothing more than to seek out the magical waterfall near The Grove and stand beside it under a full moon. Though there is very little real magic there, something about the steaming crash of the water and the way the moon lights up only part of the world regenerates me.

You may spot my little friend around Elysia too. As a Dragon, Faroah leaves a lot to be desired but he makes quite a nice little imp, don't you think? He's a rare dragon in that during the Great Quest for knowledge, when all other Dragons learned to change into human form, he had a little accident. His transformation merely shrank him, and he has been unable to fix the error since. I think he's stuck this way, but he still makes several attempts to change back - on a daily basis.

Oh dear, someone is summoning me. I will no doubt see you around Elysia, though you may not see me.

Please go ahead and introduce yourself now. ^^

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*Othere enters the room raises his chin and begins to speak. He is a rather large man, not at all muscular, just... beefy. He is a very young looking, and his smile is very youthful. His wings are gigantic to support his girth when he flies. When he opens his mouth to speak, a voice you would have never guess comes out. His highpitched squeak is rather embarassing, and if you make the mistake of mentioning it to him... well, let's just say it was a mistake*

Hallo, name's Othere (oh - thair). How's yah doing? Well, where do I start? I am an Dark Angel, but that's too, unforgiving. I'm a sweetie I really am. I hate all this war crap that's going on. But I'm loyal, I am a loyal Dark Angel. Anyway, enough of that... let me introduce you to, me. It all started, about, 100 years or so ago...

*very many, very long minutes later and Othere is sitting backwards on a chair. He became very emotional, and is now crying. He is at the end of his life story*

My mother put me to sleep for the last time that night, *nose-hankercheif* sining "Tu-ra-lu-ra-lu-ra" lullaby. I miss her so. *nose-hankercheif* Anyway, now that you know me, I think it's time for me to get off my soap box and someone else have a go.

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A Dark Angel lands softly before you, her gleaming sword catching your eye. Archaic lettering is engraved along the blade and though you cannot decypher the meaning, you feel the power the sword wields.

Hey. The Angel flings herself into a nearby armchair and tosses the sword onto the coffee table as she props her feet up on the glass. Her knee-length heavy boots screech on the table but she pays no attention, reaching instead for the nearest cushion. I'm Dazadi. Most everyone calls me Daz. A twinkle in her eyes suggests those people may regret such an act, but she continues. I'm Xanth's right hand. She got a problem, I fix it. Pfft, silly deities, thinking they can take on the world.

Faroah poofs out of no where to spit fire at Dazadi. She doesn't even flinch and after a moment, the flames turn into a hiccup of smoke. The tiny dragon squeaks and poofs away again; Dazadi doesn't even blink.

I love you too, Goddess! She winks at you and shifts slightly. It's then you realise that she hasn't been hugging the cushion as you thought, but tearing the stuffing out of it!

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A man with a stern look on his face enters. He seems fairly young, maybe early twenties. He gazes around the room, and when he does this, you can finally see his eyes, which you notice are different than normal human eyes. All of the sudden, it hits you; his eyes are slitted.

I am Derythe, the Dragon. He continues standing there, now thinking deeply, looking like he's transfixed on something far away. After a few minutes, he decides to sit down in a chair, although reluctant in doing so.

I don't believe I should sit in another's presence. I believe it shows fair disrespect. Now, you realized that Derythe was very honorable. He showed utmost respect to any creature whether they deserve it or not.

I assume you are wanting to know more about me. He stood up again. I wish I could tell you as much as I want to tell. You see, I am an orphan. I was abandoned as a young Dragon, and as a result, I do not know much of my family or whatnot. I was brought up by a few other Dragons, yes, but I feel like I've raised myself partially on my own. I taught myself respect, for one, but I also taught myself how to be strong, no matter what the situation.

And with that, Derythe sat down once more, proud of the way he described himself. He seemed to grin some, but still sat in the chair, gazing off, sitting up straight.

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You look around, and you notice an angel with dirty white wings. She begins to speak in a quiet voice.

"Ehm, hello. My name is Kaethe, and I am an Angel. Yes, I know the grey wings might throw you for a loop, but, well, one can't help but let one's wings get dirty in life.

I aspire to be the leader of the Angels, and will do almost anything to become so. I suppose you've noticed my ragged dress, too. Well, hopefully that shall change soon. I have an order in for a new one, but those humans take forever!"

She begins to come towards you, extending her hand. On her palm is a small white scar in the shape of a lily. "That is from the murder of my parents, by the Dark Angels. That is why I shall fight. To avenge their wrongful deaths."

She pauses, putting her delicate hand to her mouth. "I suppose I have said to much. Well, it is of no consequence. I must take your leave." With that, she swoops up, and flies into the night.

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Slowly the darkness creeps around you like an omnious fog. Before your eyes can adjust, you fall to the ground, having tripped over something that felt oddly like a leg. After you recover and rub your eyes a few more times, a shadowed figure appears before you.


She is dressed in a very short dress, with choppy, knife like ruffles landing at the middle of her thighs. The dress is deep red, a blood color if you will, and seems to practically blend in with the shadows behind the figure. Suddenly she smiles, bearing a set of gleaming white fangs, almost sparkling, but how could they be in this darkness? You are shivering now, not only from the descending cold, but also from the fact that this is a vampire standing in front of you.


Brushing a few strands of black silky hair away from her red eyes, she finally speaks. I am Lamiai, a vampire if you have not yet deduced so. Her voice is soft, almost like an angel's, but you know this is just a deception of some sort...Don't look so afraid, I have already had my midnight snack... She smiles menacingly and licks her dark red lips. Well nevertheless, I am here to stay young one, so you might just have to get used to the fact that now you have to watch your back after the sun goes down...

With a wink and a small puff of black smoke, She's gone. A small piece of parchment floats down after her. You grab it and open it to find the pronounciation of her name? How odd. Lam(rythmes with ham)-ee-eye

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A soft breeze whips at your feet and suddenly a figure appears in the distance. Not knowing who it is you step back and watch from a distance.
A women steps out from the darkness and spreads out her wispy white wings.

Hello there. I am Xarya. Xarya The Wanderer. I flit out and around to watch over everybody.

I wander around because no-one cares for me. My mother and father died when I was born so I don't know them very well. Sometimes I visit them in heaven but mainly I just wander. I hope to see you around so just call me. I will always be there..

Be there.....

Be there.....

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Hello, You probably don't know me. I am Peter, the Human.

Peter steps into the light. You see a youthful boy, of age 18. He is wearing overalls, with paint splattered all over them. His hair is in dred locks, and he is wearing a rather large hemp necklace.

I feel my main purpose is to create art. You will see me mainly in my shoppe, which is enchanted into Saks 5th Avenue, ironically.

Peter is a man of few words. He says his peace, and he is gone

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All of the sudden, you hear a man begin to speak.

I am Dion, a Demon.

Then, a man stepped out of the shadows. He had dark hair, seemingly black, and his eyes were completely black as well, as if pupiless. He somewhat scowled and didn't look at anybody.

You realize that Dion is only loyal to the upper Demons, and this is why he isn't showing respect as some others have.

I don't know why you're still paying attention to me Dion said. I don't like to chat.

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In a forest located in no particular place, Aiden stumbles over the root of a tree and lands unceromoniously on the ground. The 18 year old shapeshifter grumbles over his uncharacteristic clumsiness. He would've seen that root and jumped over it if he were sober. Drat his inability to drink much. This cat won't be drinking in taverns for months.

Placing his clawed hand on a nearby tree, the shapeshifter leaves his human state and prepares to climb the plant. The light brown, disheveled hair on his head shortens as the spots on his face and body grow darker. He crouches, for he can no longer stand. Aiden's fingers become shorter---his index finger connects with his pointing finger as the ring finger connects with the pinky. His mouth opens wide in a yawn as the last of his fangs form. Seconds after his transformation, the clouded leopard ascends the tree. Your view of him is obscured by the dense foliage.

Not much shall be told about Aiden in this introduction post. Perhaps you shall know more about him later?

[Xanth]

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Running through the Elysian fields is a wide river. The water runs clear and cool over gleaming rocks, and on a sunny day you can see right down into the bottom.

Making its way downstream is a tiny fish. About six inches long, it looks more like a strip of silver than a living being. It seems to fly through the water, eventually making its way into a group of reeds near the bank.

Seconds later a fit of coughing is heard, a girl of eighteen stumbles out onto the bank. Her hair is a weird glittering blonde, her eyes shine like sparking stones from the riverbed.

"Still haven't got the hang of changing back," she mutters, but a smile plays over her face as she begins to hum softly,

"Swiftly through the water run,
protected from the burning sun,
who needs wings when we can fly,
in water, scorn the empty sky."

She wanders off downstream, still humming strange verses.

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A young woman enters, dancing across the floor in light, fluid steps. Her hair waves behind her, rippling strands of white blonde hair, bright as starlight. A light green tunic tightly wraps around her body, and a makeshift belt hugs her thin wait, where a long sword rests in its sheath. A large blue stone is laid in itss hilt, glinting and sparkling as the woman shifts in her place. She turns her head, hair whipping around her neck as she gazes into the eyes of all other present creatures.

I Am Aithe, she proclaims in a loud, melodic voice. Her words resonate throughout the room, fading into nothing, yet the sound of chimes still hangs in the air. Staring into her eyes, you notice they are a startling blue, the color of the stone in her sword. Their brilliant color isn't the only thing different about her eyes...they seem to shimmer and smolder with a hidden power. But the strangest thing about them is...her pupils are...slits?

She dances farther in the room, stopping in the middle, then closes her eyes, flaring her nostrils as she inhales. After a few moments, her eyes fly open suddenly, her long black eyelashes returning back up to her forehead, and opened her mouth to speak again.

I was once a proud member of my Dragon clan...but was recently exiled. I am now on a quest to prove myself so that I may be re-admitted. Silence fills the room like an invisible blanket. Her voice rises, Do not stand in my way, or I shall destroy you! She turns on her heels, and quickly glides out of the room. Somehow, you know she wasn't bluffing.

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The world is not a safe place. The dreams of men, their vicious ambitions, and their hatred of all things different have forced many a creature to live in solitude.

Hair the colour of winter's first snow, pure and clean, bellies the dark glint in his violet eyes. His skin is the colour of tar; black as a night when the moon is new. Triangular ears peek out from between tresses of silken white hair.

Dare you trust this creature? His past is dark. His future, hopelessly bleak.
But if you earn his trust, he is fiercly loyal.

Besides, it is a lot safer to be with him than against him. He doesn't have any enemies....for very long.....

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A soft thud resounds in the forest quietly. And another. And another, until the sound gradually increases to a familiar note. An ebony-oiled mare suddenly gallops out of the distance, nickering and pawing. It comes to an utter halt and shudders, shaking its massive shoulders. The lines that discern reality from illusion quickly vanish, and the figure seems to actually blur until nothing is left but a hazy mass.

It slowly begins to take shape, a slimmer, more lithe shape. A long and difficult while later, a person appears, lustrous black hair veiling her face. Underneath a thin brow, intelligent, azure eyes gaze at the world. A dagger whirls out of nowhere, and she grasps the pallid blade, walking into the room. "I am Thryn," she pronounces in a cool tone.

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Vast wings quietly beat the sky, gliding smoothly through the air, while a sharply curved beak snapped harshly at nothing in particular. Chocolate specks descended down the chest while sturdy honey talons desired to grip a perch.

Unexpectedly, a strong gust of wind knocked the falcon off its precise balance, a state like deep meditation to the bird. Suddenly it found itself heading toward the ground at an immeasurable speed, ready to find herself dragging through the earth at any moment.

A few seconds later, a young girl around eighteen shakily stands up, covered with dirt and filth; she wipes her muddy hands on her skirt, and shakes her head. A stream of autumn auburn ripples down her shoulders, gentle waves masking a part of her elegant frame. Cerulean eyes blinked innocently in shock from the sudden fall, but then begin to twinkle merrily.

"Must learn how to brake," she whispers softly to herself while she gazes dreamily up at the sky.

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Resting under the shade of a pine tree, curled into a cat-like sleeping posistion, is a young girl of about 18. Long black hair frames a pale face, flecked with grey. Small cat ears stuck out from the sides of the girl's head, their color matching her hair. The girl, only about five feet tall, stretches onto her side, yawning.

Sanura (suh-noor-uh) stood, feeling the swish of a black tail brush against the back of her legs. Her eyes, a startling yellow-green, still had the look of a half asleep teenager.She brushes a few leaves and some dirt from her white tank top and black pleated skirt, then ran her fingers through her hair until they reached one of her ears.

She sighed. Sanura was a shape-shifter, and not a very good one. She often lost control, like she had now, and ended up with ears and a tail. Her favorite form, the one she planned to choose as her permanent shape to shift into, was a short-haired black feral cat.

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I am Koraehk.

An oriental dragon with dull white horns placed on his head crawled forward. Its eyes glitter dangerously emerald, dark slits in the center of the eye. Its snake-like tail trails on the cold floor and the occasional click of the pearl white talons could be heard throughout the room. Although a small hatchling, he was rather large for his age.

The dragon stops for a moment, pausing to give a small snort before leaving, it's pale skin color showing where it was.

It appears you are confused about being a Dragon. Please read the Dragon species and level information in the Newcomer Guide.

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In a small hut, ten miles out from NYC, a black-suited woman lounges on a sofa, watching TV.

A weak knock at the door interrupts, and she scowls. The hut is basically one big room, with a small 'cabin' bathroom. When she stands up it's clear she's in her thirties, tall, and the glare she's wearing doesn't bode well for the knocker.

She opens the door to find a quivering mass of white feathers. "Well?" she barks, "what do you want?"
"Are you...are you the healer?"
"I'm Dr. Hallie Burke if that's what you mean. What do you want?"

A trembling visage, as beautiful as it is tragic, emerged from the mess of white. It's entire form shudders as it murmurs,
"Please...help me."
"Help you?"
"You...are a healer?"
"Sure I am. Vamps, dragons, demons, even you sorry angelfolk. If it's mystic, I can heal it. Question is, can you pay?"
There's a pause, the healer moves as if to slam the door, when the Angel whispers,
"I can pay."
A smile drifts over Hallie Burke's face. "Cash up front, if something goes wrong, no refunds. Now get your sorry self inside and let's see what we can do."

The Angel struggles to it's feet and limps inside, Hallie glares coldly out into the air before pulling the door shut.

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[Picture of Eralyn]

A young woman of 23 years (although she looked young for her age) entered a semi-dusty looking shop. Her hair seemed to alternate between black and a very deep violet, but otherwise she appeared mediocre. She glanced the window, where the first signs of sunlight had barely peeped through. Despite that, Eralyn was busily preparing for the opening of her art shop.

In the recent years, she had been taking random jobs, mostly ones where all you were required to do was sweep, dust, and clean. That was before she decided to stop wandering around and stay somewhere static. She took on the life of an artist, and her rather wealthy friend graciously offered her an old workshop while he and his wife must have then moved to some strange home in some strange country, filled with many strange people.
If they could be called people, that is. Eralyn recalled him enthusiastically speaking of angels, demons, shapeshifters, and other oddities.
I know I should just accept them, but I hate them anyway. Whether for having more power, or more control, I don't know.

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You see a large, magestic Peregrine Falcon fly over head.
Mezmerised by it's dives, loops and other acrobatics you're extremely starteled when you hear a very loud, very long sigh come out of nowhere next to you.

"Isn't it wonderful?" said a young, or at least seemingly young boy who was now perched next to you in a semi-squat position. "I wish i could fly like that... at the moment i can barely even get off of the ground." the boy said wistfully, pushing his hand through his hair. Or at last it looked somewhat like hair. After staring at it for a while, you realised it was actually... feathers!?

The boy turns his head to catch you staring at him. His eyes narrow into a harsh glare, now you realise that they are an icy white color. "I don't appreciate being stared at y'know. Not fully transferring is very common for young shifters." He pauses for a moment, looks away, and then turns back to you and says "Oh, and don't even think of calling me a cub, I'm 18, that's FAR from being a child." He gets up, turns and walks away. But for some reason you get the feeling that he has unresolved issues in his heart...




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(pronounced: Cheh-no-en)

[Xanth]

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A young girl of around 18 walked into the room...

Only, she didn't look like a normal girl, her eyes were pale blue, like ice, and her skin was pale as snow. Despite her youth, her hair was silvery white with black streaks running through it.

She had come from a long line of red-heads; Bengal Tiger Shapeshifters. When she was born with white hair the family had no idea how it could have happened. She could shapeshift from an early age and it became clear that she was too a Bengal Tiger shape shifter, but completely white.

She was, infact, albino. It look her mother and fatehr a long time to relise this, until they came across a witchdocter who told them the truth. She was one of a handful, maybe even the only Albino in this world.

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A young male steps into the treatment room, wearing a white doctors jacket thrown over a blue shirt. His large shoulders mean he has to step slightly sideways to avoid bashing into the door frame. A stethoscope hangs around his neck, and his pockets are crammed full of an assortment of pens, needles and animal treats. His professional look is spoilt slightly by the shabby trainers he wears, but telling him he looks daft would be unwise-he's easily 6ft 4 in his socks. He looks around, his piercing blue eyes taking in every detail of his new surgery. Lying on the desk in front of him is a neatly typed name Badge-Maximus, Senior Veterinarian. He smiles, and pins it to his jacket. After settling into his comfy chair, Max takes a file from the desk drawer and begins flicking through it.

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A pale, cloaked being comes into view. As the human-like creature walks into the viewer's focus, the horns on his head seem much sharper. But those useless horns are pretty much there just for decoration. This demon is so weak that he should be labeled "human".
The lanky boy stuffs his hands into the pockets of his cloak as he looks around. There is barely a trace of another demon in the area. Obviously, the other demon had been here long ago. Tch. No demons here.

Moments after the demon had walked away, observers notice that a rather peculiar smell remains. The vicinity of this demon had smelled putrid. It takes a while for the observer to identify the smell---durian.

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Out of the darkness comes a kindly looking girl, seeming to be about 17 or 18. She extends her hand to you and says

"Hello! Are you new here? Well, I am (somewhat). I am Mahesa, and I am, well, a human. I am not quite sure how I arrived here, but I do rather like it. Anyways, I am a seamstress, and if you ever need any clothes, you are more than welcome to come to me!"

With that, she turns on her heel and retreats into the darkness.

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"Filthy critters, always wanting things. Can't just be content to do my bidding," murmured a rather slender girl to herself while working on opening up her business for the day. Fortunately for her none of her current 'patiently' waiting customers heard the comment, otherwise business might have gone down for a day or two. Unfortunately though that also meant she still had to handle taking care of the needs of her customers. Ah yes, there's nothing quite like getting 'honest' critters drunk or close enough.

After a few more seconds of thinking it over the girl turned the key and heard the somewhat satisfying sound of the lock clicking open. Opening it up quickly and darting in a small smile came to her face as outisde nameless customers started to yell at each other trying to figure out why the door hadn't been left open longer and why it was now locked.

"Silly little boys and girls, thinking I would open even two minutes sooner than the sign says." The girl said to herself before happily preparing for today's work load, well as happily as she ever did. Though that meant mostly spending her time singing to herself and dancing. Bartenders, always so strange and usually friendly.


[Ale Picceh]

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A girl walks in nervously, her violet eyes taking in her surroundings. She sits down on a nearby chair, and bows her head as a sign of respect. Taking a deep breath and clutching at the chair's armrests, she begins to speak.

"My name's Arinora-most people just call me Arin. I'm an angel, as you can probably tell." Her gray wings unfold behind her. " I was born on a cluster of clouds in the sky, just like any normal angel." Arinora stands up, biting her lip. Then, blinking as if she suddenly remembered something, sat back down. " I grew up in a happy family of four-my mother, father, sister and I. Not much out of the ordinary. But..." Here she looked down at her hands, knotted together in her anxiety. "...I was always the odd one out, wherever I went. Other angels would tease me, point at me, laughing. I didn't know what it was that they were laughing at, so I ignored them the first few years. But then it only got worse. Every time I said anything, they'd laugh. So I stopped talking. I didn't speak for a long time, that is...until I met my first two friends." Arinora smiled, looking into the distance, as if there were something there that only she could see.

" They were the most supportive, encouraging pair of friends you'd ever have the pleasure to meet. They stood by my side whenever the other angels laughed, teasing them right back. It definitely boosted my self-confidence, their standing up for me. Still, I was confused. Why did the angels laugh at me in the first place? Wasn't I just like them? So, one day, I decided to ask my two new friends what made me different, out of the ordinary. When I walked up to them and asked that question, they seemed suprised, with expressions on their faces that clearly said 'What do you mean? Don't you know already?'. But they answered truthfully; they said that it was because of my hair and eyes.

Arinora blinked again, as if snapping out of a daydream. " Um, I'm so sorry. I've talked too much. I have a habit of doing that." She blushed and stood up, bowing in farewell. The young girl turned and walked away, her head turned downwards, toward her feet. If you'd looked closely as she walked away, you would have seen the sun reflecting off her silver hair. As Arinora stepped over the threshold, she turned her head, and, for an instant, her hair had a purple sheen to it.

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A solitary figures stands in a corner, observing the creatures in the room while they had felt the need to introduce themselves. Dark eyes bear down on no one in particular and her expression is that of someone caught in a trap set by menacing foes. Her arms are crossed as she calmly follows the proceedings, now and then taking note of a particularly interesting person. Very few of those here, it seems.

She squints slightly, making sure she isn't close to anyone she might deem dangerous. The first thing she learned, when turned, was that newly-changed vampires such as herself were not the strong and mythical creatures she had envisioned. She would have to be careful if she wanted to remain who she was. Still, this wouldn't stop her from being who she was, so she stepped forward.

"Since we're all being downright cozy and nice, I'll introduce myself as well, though I'll spare you the dramatics. Enough of that here already."

Pointedly she looks at some of those present before continuing.

"I'm Ryana. Vampire. Turned when I was wandering out alone. It was stupid, I paid the price. That's all I will say on the matter, and all I will say tonight."

Happy - though usually not a term she'd use when describing herself - with her proclamation she stepped back, trying to engulf herself in shadow once again. Not to be mysterious, or cool, but to make sure they didn't realise how young she was and take interest. You never know with strangers, they might be out to get you.

A fire is crackling not too far away and Ryana squints, sweeping some stray strands of black hair forward to hide her from the onslaught. She doesn't like fire, and neither do her eyes. Quickly she looks away.

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'Ello there! I'm Eshaw, a human. If you're human you get injured, just drop by at my clinic! The prices aren't too bad.

You look at Eshaw. The girl is wearing dark blue boot-cut jeans, and a gray long sleeved shirt. Her ocean blue eyes gleamed out at you and her teeth are pure white. Her thick, brown, curly hair is sitting on her shoulders. You want to know more about this human and you try and put the feeling into your eyes. Obviously, it works.

I, Eshaw, just happens to be a 25 year old who owns a clinic down on Fifth Avenue So, I really do hope that I can't heal all the humans in Elysia. Well anyway I must be going, I have patients to heal and money to earn.

You watch as Eshaw runs back into her wooden clinic. You walk away to do your own thing.

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A young woman walks in; a gracious looking creature she is, her long golden hair waving over her shoulders. Her steelblue eyes quickly scan the room.

She is Daoine the Dragon. Coming from a long line of ancient golden dragons, she is the last one of her family to survive. Her human form she has had since she was a day old, raised by Humans but still craving to regain the knowlegde and strength of the ancient dragons someday...somehow....

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A pale man of about 18 sat on a rock at the edge of a large hill, looking down at the humans below in the city. All were going some where, always rushing, he, however, had no where to go, nothing to see or do. What was the point? It was all going to end eventually.

"All will soon join," he said softly and bitterly to himself. His goal for himself was to bite every human that hasn't been. In his eyes, no one is innocent and everyone deserves punishment, and that punishment was becoming a vampire, he suffered it too. Everyone would soon become as he was.

Azariel had been bitten around the age of 16, and had since been seeking vengeance to all the humans who had betrayed him after he had been bitten, and he was going to..eventually.



[Azariel: The name of an angel in Jewish and Muslim tradition who separated the soul from the body upon death. He is sometimes referred to as the Angel of Death.]

[Xanth]

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A young woman lightly strolls into the room, stunningly marble-white hair swinging about. She draws a seat and stares at everyone and everything; nothing can miss those gem-like indigo eyes. Doomed to death in her own dragon clan, she chose to leave and seek a new life in Elysia.

A strange dress dons her body. It covered everything but her face, for the color of her skin was indeed a pale blue. In order to be inconspicuous, a very strange healer attempted to change her completely, but only part of it worked. She was very sociable and often found herself drinking one too many martinis, laughing until her face turned a blushing crimson.

"Myrth," she said, gesturing to herself.

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A humming bird flew through the door, and in mid-flight a human girl emerged. Although she was young, only eighteen, she practised her shifting frequently.

A forward outgoing person, she grinned at everyone in the room Greetings, my name is Eilidh. Are you all cubs too?" She didn't wait for an answer, I look forward to seeing some of you around here!

And with that she shifted back into a hummingbird and flew away again, leaving several people stunned at her short appearance.

No. No one is 'slightly above average'. You are all starting at exactly the same level for a reason - so that none of you have an unfair advantage. Please do *not* do this!

Whoops *mega emmbarressed*

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A shady, mysterious shape stands shrouded in the darkness, then gradually steps forward into the light, where her features can clearly be seen. This figure was swathed in a thin black veil, an ebony dress concealing her pallid skin. Small horns protrude from her head, a mere decoration you could say. Long black hair cascades in a smooth mass down her shoulders, dark eyes casting an watchful glance around the room. She was a youthful girl of around 18, but her powers were non-existent. A fragrance of mysterious, yet foul nature encircles her.

"I�m Kamuzai, a demon." Her eyes glaze over in a dreamy fashion, fantasizing about the day where one day she would one day be powerful.

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Alone and unobserved in a small chair, the frail form of a young demon shakes in concealed mirth. Green of skin, with a faint ridge showing down her back, she smells faintly of mould and rotten fruit. A demure spray of perfume does little to mask the scent. Sitting slightly straighter, she examines those in the room, grinning slyly. Her hair is short, shaggy, and hangs low over black-rimmed green eyes. Despite the knowledge that most in the room could kill her in an instant, she doesn't seem particularly worried. Quietly, her slender fingers brush a few specks of dirt from her black tunic; it always pays to be cleanly. Satisfied, she stands, bows, and says clearly.

"'Lo, Gents an' Ladies an'..other things." Now that their attention is on her, her white, slightly pointed teeth bare themselves in a smile. "The name's Syskis. I hope we can all get along very well." Or at least until I'm strong enough to crush you all like maggots. "I look forward to furthering acquaintanceships with many of you, for you all seem so interesting." She bows low, the picture of friendly respect, and takes her seat once more.

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A young woman appears in the doorway and slowly moves against the wall, sticking to the shadows. She knows that even thought she tries not to draw attention to herself, her smell is more than enough to let those around her know what she is... and that she was easily desposed of. Finding a chair near one of the darker corners of the room, she sits in it and stares at the floor. Feeling a few eyes on her, she looks up and simply says "Kisei" before closing her eyes and leaning back in her chair.

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A young lady stumbles in, her eyes averted from the others. YShe wears a plain white gown, and a single pearl is clasped around her neck. Her hair contrasts her ordinary clothes, as it is a rich chocolate color and twisted in intricate knots to the side of her head. At first, she makes no sound, except a small distressed murmer as a busy passerbyer accidentally bumps into her.

She slumps into a chair with the grace of a drunken demon, attempting to catch her breath before introducing herself. A few grey feathers float to the floor beside her, and she looks at them mournfully, before reaching down to gather them up in her hand.

Out of the blue, she begins speaking in a rushed, muted tone. My name is Aeloru, I am an angel. She pauses and wrinkles her nose. At least...I think I am. I hope to be? Drat. She closes her eyes, as if trying to erase her previous comments. I am...my parents call me naive, my teachers call me hopeless, but I am sure I can be more than that.

Startled by her own confidence, she quickly turns heel again, mumbling a quick, I thought I'd try my hand at flying here, but I ended up walking before I was even half way here. We'll meet again, perhaps? It was nice to meet you...

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A human steps into the area of Elysia. Looking around with wide eyes, she whispers the words, "It's beautiful."

Her brightly colored scarf billows in the wind as she walks further into the area. She had been hired to enter the world because of her youth. Those old geezers who hired her could barely improve themselves and survive in the lands, so they'd hired someone young---and disposable---to enter instead. It was slightly disturbs her to know that, so she tries to not think about it.

She WILL be killed if she failed to improve herself soon. She knows nothing at all about fighting, and her limbs are terribly weak. The scientists would have chosen a stronger person to enter, but knew that would be too suspicious. Better for Elise to join, blend in with the other humans, and improve with the others.

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ears, Elise continues to her destination---the marketplace.

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You hear a soft growl ,Turning you see a black panther start to shimmer and change,Slowly a human female form appears."Hello, I am Skye,I am a shapeshifter.I can transform into a Black Panther,as you saw,and also a sparrow.I come from a distant land to the south.I have no memory of my family however,the only thing I do remember is growing up in a vast forest.I am hoping to fit in here for I became lonely.

Er, actually, no you cannot. A panther cub, or a sparrow. Not both at this point.

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A woman about 19 years old flies in and looks at the surroundings. Her brown curly hair is tied up in a messy bun. Her blue eyes are so pale, it almost looks like she has no pupil. As she flows in, you can tell she's the type who is always calm and optimistic. She doesn't know what she wants to do in Elysia so she'll think about that for awhile.

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Hi. Um... I'm a bit new around here. Elise introduced me. I found a bunch of photos in her closet one day, and they were just full of weird creatures. Um, I mean, no offense or anything, but for a suburban chick like myself... You know, well... It's weird.

Anyway... I guess I kind of like it here, just. You know. It's scary. I mean, here I am, human, and so many of you look at me so hungrily...

[Xanth]

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A rather petite angel with small gray wings walks quickly and lightly through a field, stopping often to finger a flower. She has long flowing brown hair that comes all the way down her back, and large blue eyes. She wears a white dress that's slightly ripped, especially along the bottom, and has dirt smudges on her face. On her finger is a delicate ring that reads Xandra.
She quickly looks up at the sound of footsteps. I am Xandra. I come from a rather poor family, but I try to make the best of it. I'm a rather weak angel, but I am ready to train and become stronger. She says these last words with confidence, then turns and leaves the field.

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A thin and rather pretty girl makes her way into the room. Her blue-silverish skin seems to glimmer in the light and as her brown hair flows like water behind her. Oddly enough, she has blue and green highlights in her hair but they seem to move and dance depending on the light. Her blue-green eyes sparkle as she smiles at everyone and gives a small bow.

"Hello," she says in a misty voice, "My name is Mizuko, and I am the co-owner of The Siren. I do hope that you will vixit us when we open. I hope to become well aquainted with you all.

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A tall and fair woman strode into the room, every step refined and graceful. She swiftly walked to a table and took a seat in a wooden chair, glaring at everyone, dark emerald hair framing a dark, angled face. Piercing sapphire eyes lurked under a thin brow. She was a peaceful character, in fact, but simply loathed civilization. Not bothering to familiarize herself with others, she plainly pronounced in a high-pitched, melodic voice, "Riul." And left.

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Slipping out of thin air, a tall nymph appears.

I am Anais. That is all you need to know

And with that, she leaves you again.

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A short little girl that looks to be about 12 or 13 walks in very gacefully, and timidly at the same time. She courageously smiled at all the people standing in the area and spoke quietly, her voice like a jingle of a bell.

Hi, I'm Mirabelle! You can Call me Mira I guess! Her smile brightens as she moves in the sunlight.

Oh and before you guys say anything I'm not like 10 I'm totally 17! She laughes like a whisper of the wind as you look at her skeptically.

Well maybe I'll see you guys around, kay? With the same smile she skips off, leaving you to think you might never want to see that hyper 10 year old again.

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You see a large man, with chisled muscles on the phone. The volume is up loud enough so that you can hear both side of the conversation.

"Have you been trainingregularly?" You hear a voice bark from the other side of the line. It sounds more like a backwards order than a question.

"Yes dad, I mean, sir." Says the man on the phone. He looks to be about 24 but h sounds like a berated 8 year old.

"Good, good. So I assume you've leveled up by now?" You hear the rough voice come through the phone again.

"well, um... Not exactly..." The man says on the phone says.

"Well why not?" The voice barks.

"I've just been busy... It won't be long though, I promise." The man says.

"Fine, but remember, you are a RED dragon. When you take your test you are to think like a red dragon.The voice one\ the phone br\arked again. After he finshes you hear a loud slam and then the man on the phone gently hangs it up.

"Hi, I'm Zephyr. Sorry about all that noise. My father.. He just.." Zephyr pauses as if thinking about what to say. "He just wants what's best for me..." Zephyr says. It seems like he's trying to convince himself more than you.

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A dark figure emerges from an unsavoury smelling alleyway. Covered from head to toe in black, the figure was tall and skinny. It's shadow would have made a rake feel anorexic. Checking that no-one was around, the figure moved out of the darkness and stood below a streetlamp. The light illuminated a tall, young man-probably around age 20. His skin was scarred pretty severely-either he'd stuck his face in a shredder, or this guy enjoyed an occassional scrap. His black trenchcoat scraped along the ground, and already had a layer of dust coating the hem. He fished inside one of the many pockets, and pulled out what looks like a battered old map. Running a stubby finger across it, he stopped suddenly, and smiled. Only then do you catch a glimpse of his teeth beneath a mane of black hair-he's a vampire.

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The silence is once again disturbed, this time by the shifty movements of what seems to be a man. He is carefully moving in the shadows, pressed close to the wall and trying not to be noticed. His thin form is moving as gracefully as his limbs allow him to, which isn't saying much. Reddish hair, seen only because the man stumbled into the light for a moment, has been cut short roughly. Little tufs of hair are sticking out everywhere and it's obvious, this hasn't been done professionally.

A dark, secluded corner seems to be what the man is looking for, seeing as he stops in the nearest one. Only then do you notice his most striking feature. His eyes move back and forward - much like they do at tennis matches - as he tries to take everything in. They're yellow. He must be a dragon, or a higher-level vampire that has control of his eyecolour.

"I'm Mica," the man says, crossing his arms to look confident. He might not be as confident as he wants to make you think, seeing as he's still standing in the shadows and only a few people can see him.

"I'm a dragon. I'm not really interested in telling you more. I believe in keeping personal things to yourself, so I won't disclose whether or not I was born in a hospital, barn, or a haystack. It's really none of your business."

It seems he immediately realises that might have crossed the line. Wouldn't want to annoy the residents, right? He blinks a few times before giving a wave - though not really visible in the dark. Hasty steps carry him to the door and before someone can reply he's out the door, closing it without a sound. He's gone.

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�Can I throw some rain drops on your head?� Was questioned to no one in particular as a rather bedraggled looking female found herself back inside, out of the rain. Obviously, unless one is completely blind, the girl had been outside playing in the rain supposedly skipping out on work for the day. Luckily for the young girl she had simply not had anything to do this particular day, leaving her with excess time to sleep in or in her case indulge the five year old inside of her. Sadly though her true youth was over and she had begun to slip into adulthood � if that�s what one dared to call her current level of maturity.

Ah yes, Dakota Johnson certainly couldn�t be found acting in a civilized manner unless it meant she would later receiver Skittles in payment for having to pretend she was someone else. After all, this particular female was the resident Skittle <3er of the area. Anyway, as I was saying before hand she doesn�t exactly know what it means to be mature. A lack of care was easily seen when it came to work � and a love for writing things in crayons, then there was the fact most of the time she could be found running around begging for Skittles off of friends while throwing confetti at people and singing, and lastly would be her favorite pajamas at the time � currently My Little Pony ones. Okay, so all in all it isn�t that bad, but you try explaining this to the people stuck dealing with her on a regular basis.

Enough about that side of the Skittle <3er and on to today�s outfit of choice that was �ruined� for now, nothing a little cleaning couldn�t take care of though. A once clean faded pink Mr. Bubbles ringer tee � fitted for her � clung to her upper half although some amount of mud now covered it. As for the lower half of her curvaceous figure there was a pair of mud covered tight fitting dark blue flare jeans accessorized by her trademark pink two row studded belt. Then there are her feet, if one felt up to calling the now exceptionally dirty things feet, which where in fact bear as he couldn�t afford to ruin her cheap five dollar flip-flops.

Okay, so that�s the basic look of Dakota when it she�s having a blast playing with water and well just about any time these days - minus the mud that is. Well sides for her hair, currently messily put into a bun and a rich medium brown color - think the color of Hershey's milk chocolate. Then there were her light blue eyes, currently somewhat hidden behind a pair of rose-tinted shades and looking at nothing in particular. Technically she was to be on her way to her shop, in specific the office part of it. However, that wasn't exactly on her list of things to do.

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A pale girl, standing five feet seven inches tall, walked into a large room. Her hair, a pale blonde nearly white in color, just barely brushes her shoulders. With her hair and skin color, the girl seemed almost unearthly, ghost-like. She raised her head, her eyes a piercing brown, almost appearing red.

Laurel wore white jean shorts and a light pink tank top, as well as tall light pink boots. Two silver hoops, only about half an inch in diameter across, hang from her delicate ears. She holds herself with attitude, maybe a bit too self confident.

"Hello. My name is Laurel. Remember it. I'm 18, a cub, an albino ferret shape shifter."

[Xanth]

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You feel a presence of something but your not entirely sure who or what is around, so you carefully peer into the darkness then you see them.... a pair of glowing yellow eyes...

Destiny cautiously walked out of the darkness, You see she is a small wolf pup with several strange red markings.

"Hello My name is Destiny," she says so softly you strain to hear her," I'm an 18 year old, cub, Canine ShapShifter, being an animal is my base form . My parents were both Wolves but sadly they are no longer with me, I've been alone since I was 5 so I am a natural born Loner...Goodbye now."

You watch as the wolf pup slowly walks back into the darkness...

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A beautiful young woman appears on the scene, she h�s to be a Nymph no doubt about that.

"I am Castalia" she says in an almost singing tone of voice.

And with that she turns around and disappears again as quickly as she arrived.

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A menacing glare comes from the face of a young man. He's dressed in a large black jacket that covers his waist. A small bag is strung over his shoulders, and it looks quite heavy.

He stares at everyone in the room, and says, "I'm Sian," and leaves.

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A man in a regular navy shirt with a skull design and long cargo pants strode into a large room. He took a seat, and cocked his head, looking at the others, trying to avoid demons. He knew he was different from them. His father had screamed at him everyday, asking him angrily why he couldn't be strong, why he couldn't be like his family, who consisted of all powerful members. For example, he rarely smirked at another's pain, and rarely lost his temper, and he cared for others a little bit more than the regular demon.

He sighed since he knew he'd have to change soon. Looking up, he said, "I'm Valandil."

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Walking down a dark path, lit by the glow of the full moon, you shiver as a cold breeze blows in your face. The high trees sway in the wind, and in the distance, you hear the howl of a wolf.

Continuing on your way, the bushes beside you rustle. Not with wind, but something... else.

Quicking your step, you hastly head toward the street. The wind kicks up a notch, and stings your face with its sharp force. Closing your eyes, you lean into it, and walk on.

Behind you, you sudddenly hear the flapping of wings, which makes you whirl around in fear. Seeing nothing, your heart slows to a deep thudding. Your breathe a sigh of relief, then turn to head toward your destination.

Before you can take a full step, you slam into something, knocking you back off your feet.

Looking up, you see the dark outline of girl. For a moment, she stands over you, and says, or does nothing. You try and peer into her eyes, but before the glow of the moon, you can't see a thing.

After what seems like forever, she reaches out and puts her hand for you to take. She helps you to your feet, but still says nothing.

From your higher level, you start to see her features.

She was wearing a long white dress, which fluttered around her in the wind. Her long hair covered part of her face, and seemed to be hiding something. Her eyes were a deep blue, and glossy. Almost so glossy, in fact, you wonder if she had an impairment.

Before you can take another look, she steps to the side of you, and begins to walk away. You turn to her, and thank her. But she dosnt stop in stride.

As you walk away, you pause for a moment, and wonder"Did I just see wings?". But by the time you give her a second glance, she dissapered.

What you and the whole world will soon know, is that Nymphadora is a product of a Angel and Nymph relationship.

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A petite, dark haired girl perched on the arm of a chair, glancing around at the myriad people scattered about her. Her sage green eyes were keen and inquiring, and held a touch of mischief - a word which indeed defined this snippet of a lass perfectly. Their slitted depths also revealed another secret - the fact that she was a dragon, however unlikely it might seem.

When she caught someone taking a peek at her, she stood and bowed mockingly before drawing herself up to her full (and rather unimpressive) height.

"I'm Alianne, lad. Alianne Cooper," she said dryly. "Aly, to those what know me. Make of me what ye' will, for I'll tell you no more that what I've done already. You'll need to catch me, should you want to know more." With a toss of her ebony locks and a wink of those entrancing eyes, she slipped from the room.

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You stroll peacefully along the forest, inhaling the blissful scent of pine. It was a soft, beautifully blushing dawn, shining dancing golden rays on the trees. Suddenly you notice a particular tree, although you don't know why. Abruptly you realize you're looking at a being- one with wings. Perched gracefully on a large branch, she's serenely watching the sunrise.

Dreary-grey wings are attatched to her back, while her pale flaxen hair flutters in the light breezes. Her hands are adorned by a pair of leather maroon gloves, her short skirt and jeweled ruby boots also being a tender claret. Strange crimson markings trim her skirt, a honey belt strapped loosely around her waist. Two strips are tied around her leg, most likely for holding a weapon. You notice her golden blouse is marked with odd swirls, while her sage green eyes watch coolly.

Suddenly something breaks this placid scene; she involuntarily drops her sword which was loosely gripped in her hand, hastily turning around, but her vigilant glare relaxes when she sees you. "Ah, didn't notice you there for a second; I was just watching the skies." She laughs cheerfully. "I'm Rei, care to join me?"

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The day is nice and cool. The wind outside blew softly, while a few big white clouds roll slowly across the blue sky. Although it was still summer, the first signs of fall are starting to appear. The leaves were starting to turn color, and a there was a slight chill in the breeze.

In the middle of an park, near a green-blue pond, a young man lay on his back looking up at the sky. His arms behind his head, he lay there cloud watching. His dark brown hair, tousled by the wind, was short and chopy. He looked to be about 18, and his body was built as such.

He wore dark clothing, with leather straps and buckles. And around his neck, a necklace with a black cross rested. His light skin was soft and untouched by scars or tatoos. And his deep brown eyes were kind yet mysterious.

What really stood out on this man though, where the light grey wings benith his body. Their entire length reached down past his waist, and they had almost a silver tint to them.

As he lay there, staring lazly up at the sky, he wondered what it would be like to fly long and fast. And wether or not his wings would ever turn white.

His name is Suka.

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A tall man, probably about 20 years old and just shy of six feet, leaned against a brick wall. His silver hair brushes his shoulders and hangs in front of his face, covering one of his green-brown eyes. He wore black jeans and a black leather jacket, collar turned up, half unzipped.

Ryou was a dragon who had just entered Elysia. When he was younger, he'd belonged to a clan of golden dragons, but he'd fallen into the rebel phase and left. He had always known, as had the rst of his clan, that he would never be a golden dragon. He most certainly wouldn't choose to be a green dragon, and it would never occur to him to become a red dragon. He would choose blue when he reached that level, which was part of why he had left his clan; He just wouldn't fit in.

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A boy of 18 walked into the room; despite the fact he was an ovious male, he had a sort of femine quality, his hair was long and brown, his eyes dark- but soft. You relise his elegent features are actualy down to the fact that he was a nymph. A male nymph.

His name is Marco, he was one of the few males among the nymph community; but he wasn't ashamed or embaressed about it, he was happy to be a nymph.

He had pretty much one veiw on life, and that was that it was that you might as well laugh about things. He could make a joke in almost any situation.

But don't get this image of some jolly guy, he wasn't just cheerful, he was quick-witted, cutting and sarcastic. He could snap at anyne with a witty, sarcastic remark. But he some some charm about him, he could say the most horrible things but say them in a way that no one took any offence.

He knew when things weren't funny. The death of his mother for instance, she had drowned out at sea eight years before and he couldn't talk about her without his voice craking.

[Xanth]

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What looks like a girl is apparently not. Poking through a wild tangle of burnished hair is a pointy pair of ginger ears. And is that more ginger fur on the back of her narrow hands?

�Bugrit!� curses the girl under her whiskers as she examines the evidence of her deficiency in shape shifting skills. She looks behind her and growls when she sees her black-striped tail in plain view beneath the hem of her very expensive pale pink skirt. Pink and ginger are two colours that do not mix!

Sadie Wilder is the daughter of two of the best cat burglars on Earth but so far she is showing a distinct lack of promise in that arena. Not that she is even sure that she wants to follow in their pawprints....



This is sort of how Sadie looks. However, she often wears gloves in order to hide the fur on the back of her hands that betrays her as a non-human.

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A handsome young man steps into the room. "Do any of you know where my sister, Nymphadora, lives? If you see her, Tell her Keanu's lookin' for her" He asks. He's come to see his sister because of a letter he'd recieved, about his other sister Naava. Apparently Naava has died, and the funeral is soon.

"That stupid angel never could control her hatred towards her younger sister." He thought.

He found it aggrevating that both his sisters were twins, and yet they both wanted to be the other girl. Neither liked who they were, and they took it out on each other. Thier fight had come to an end as Naava met an early death. He was simply here to comfort his remaining sister, and then leave. At least, that's what he planned to do.

Dracos said:

A considerably attractive youngman with jet black hair and peircing red eyes stands near the stairs you happen to catch a glimpse of a wing or so you think....Hello I'm Dracos, my father was of royal descent thus earning me the name Lord Dracos but just call me Dracos please i hate the Lord thing. I'm a level one demon and i'm looking for my little sister she was an adopted sister in my family. Her name is Destiny she's a canine shape shifter perhaps you've seen her? Well i have to continue my search so i'll be going now. Good Bye.

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A young angel enters the room and looks around. He's not the social type and every time he sees an angel in the room... a scowl forms that just seems to get deeper with each one. pshhh ... angels....

"I guess i'm supposed to introduce my self or some junk... so, the names Damion. I hate just about all Others besides demons... but I hate angels the most. It's of no real concern to you why.... just know that I do."