Sequel to Charles Goldwyn. By request of: cuteEpie:) Once upon a time.... There was a land of order and wonder. Where flowers bloomed with the sweetest scents and all the people were happy... Pfft... Who am I kidding... Actually, it was a chaotic world (Much like our own). But where imagination ran wild, the races were more than just skin color, and the fantasy creatures were an ordinary occurrence. There was no telling when you would happen upon a griffin or even a dragon in disguise. (Just be careful. They're tricky) This world had all the problems our world faces. Wars and cruelties, deceit and trickery, vagabonds, and slavers. And meet our oblivious noble: Sephtis Hasdais. He was born with a silver spoon clutched in his chubby baby fingers. Growing up thinking, money could buy anything. His father was the second hand of the king of Keth. (Since the Hasdais family has manipulation magic. Which is very useful for negotiations.) So Sephtis grew up mainly in the palace, enjoying the rich life. Doted on by all the maids and personally favored by the King, Calix Goldwyn, the Great. Some even assumed, since King Calix's own son was missing, that Sephtis would become the King's heir. But then, the unexpected happened, the King's lost son was found, as a slave in another kingdom, and would be returning home. (Knock yourselves out. You can be the missing prince, his father, a pebble.... A lover... Even an illiterate lizard with small pox. Go for it, no one but the heavens can stop you.)

Once upon a time, in peace and matrimony, love and joy, splendor and wonder.... Pfft, as if.... No, this tale happens in a world where wonder and madness are likely to happen seconds apart from each other. Or... all together. Where absurd creatures that only the most insane could imagine, lived free and unrestrained. Anything that could be thought of by a sugar fueled toddler's mind existed in this world. Griffens, snakes that coughed up hairballs. (Don’t ask me where the hair came from). Reverse mermaids, Sphinxes with Schizophrenia, you name it, it probably existed. And among this chaos lived our dear main character. Bob. (Sorry, I'll name him better, probably.) Nathaniel Greeves. Our dear Alchemist with trust issues. He grew up in the slums of the city, learning from a young age what was poisonous and what could be consumed, with benefits. After some dealings with some back street thugs, leading to the overdosing and ending of his one best friend, he swore he would find a way to reverse the effects. This led to him hiding out in the Magic Tower's Rubbish yard, searching for answers. Leading to an apprenticeship to the tower's lowest ranking scholar, Sir Jones, the crazy Magician. (As always, be what you want, you little twisted gremlins. Sir Jones, a maid, a fellow street rat. Even a Sphinx with Schizophrenia, go for it.)

Deep magic flowed through the land, darkening the forests with creatures of shadow. Dangerous beings with no real body, no soul, and no remorse. How did we get here? Stupidity, that's how... What? Did you expect some epic back story? Nope, sorry... Actually, it was just some cross-eyed magician messing with potions and guinea pigs. Sadly, his brilliance went terribly wrong. One minute, he had a guinea pig and a spell circle, the next, Oozing blackness overtaking his lab. (Ah, human stupidity, isn't it just great?) Now, this world was a dangerous world, where demons roamed free. Where it could be deadly to even go out past dark, where the slightest misstep could lead to someone's downfall. Breathing could lead to infection... Among the chaos, a special little experiment was being created to counter the world's darkness... Except their experiment backfired... kinda... Welcome our moody main character, Kenric Direbane. He has the emotional range of a dried up sardine and the humor of a rusty screw. And with this wonderful personality comes from his poor traumatized 8 year old self. He was made to fight off the darkness, but instead gained the same abilities as the darkness... A thinking version of the terror that controlled this world. And of course... They locked him up... (What scientist in their right mind would keep such a monstrosity free? Even if it was their fault to begin with...) So... Of course he doesn't care for humans very much... Now, after 14 years of isolation, as the world slowly corrupted around him, he was free... (Alright you twisted little gremlins, let your chaos unlease. Be a scientist, a fellow experiment, or even a dumpster diving raccoon with alzheimer's. I do not care...)

A captivating story, a wistful mother, maybe even some impossible dreams... Ooh... Very demure, very fairytale... In a world of bedtime, stories come to life. With damsels in distress and heroic knights. Epic battles and awesome magic powers that would make any chaotic toddler jealous. Sadly, human stupidity still exists. Ego bloated individuals without a single compassionate bone in their body. Figures that create households drained of joy. Narcissistic households. The unrealistic desires of parents who are too self-important to see the child slowly wilting under the pressure. And this is where our story begins... In a household of a single mother with dreams that she never got, faith she never had, goals she never gave up. Stuffing Dawn into her own wishes and dreams. But like... sure, Dawn grew up in a household that forced his child self into a silent role, draining of all color... But hey, it gave him an amazing sense of humor and jokes for days. His default language is sarcasm, and he is unapologetic about it. At 9 years old, he got kidnapped by some back alley nobodies who were planning on selling him for some petty change. But they were pretty stupid, so he was able to escape, escaping into the dark with nothing but his wits about him. He made decisions right then and there never to return to that life, leaving his mother and his entire past behind him. Dawn Castor, the silent country bumpkin became Donavan Ridgemore, Easy going mercenary and prankster. By age 23, he had made a comfortable life, far away from his past, until it wasn’t... Mother dearest had found him. She came to his guild, trying to guilt trip him into taking care of his "poor weakened mother." (Like always enjoy your freedom of chaos and reign supreme with any twisted ideas your mind can invent. His mother, a lost adventurer, hey, even a dyslexic Aardvark. I couldn't care less. Knock yourselves out.)

Ah... Blah blah blah. Proper name, place name, backstory stuff... Dreamy whatnot and maybe some epic love story... Pfft... As if... Nope, sorry to burst the dreamy fairy tale bubble, but guess what... People suck. In this world, fairytales and dnd roleplays converge into a disastrous mess of fairy godmothers and weapon hobbo barbarians. Where there are Sphinx riddles and badly timed goblin puns. There's magic and wonder, and also pompous elves and dehydrated talking goats. Dragons that can either mystify or throughly bemuse. The dice are always rolling, and no one knows what will happen next. Meet Alma. Our oblivious, insensitive wonder boy. With an overdeveloped ego and an entire village to 'terrorize,' Alma was what some (Mainly twitterpaited girls) would call "A bad boy" and others (Mostly the Adults) "A dult." His father was the village's blacksmith, his mother, the local midwife. They were a sweet caring couple, offering what the could for the village. The village loved them. (What they did to deserve Alma, nobody knows.) By Alma's 18th birthday, his parents had had enough. Finally sending him away to the capital to train under the Sword Master, Monte DeTemple. Maybe then, he will learn discipline... (Let the chaos commence. Be Monte DeTemple, a random servant, or caffeinated squirrel with ADHD. Knock yourselves out.)

Once upon a time... There was grace and beauty, love that came straight out of a fairytale wedding.... Hold it! Nope, absolutely not... I can’t... No, this story is actually staged in this time frame, in a chaotic society... where brain cells are as rare as an honest politician, and life is about as enjoyable as watching paint dry. (Yay... so much fun...) Anyway... this is our charming little hero, Timothy Hale. He is an award winning actor and sports enthusiast... but like everyone, he has problems. And his problem may not seem like a big deal. It is kinda befuddling how he got so famous, though... Can you guess? Who knows! Anyways... Timothy has selective mutism. He struggles to talk to people and hardly ever shows emotion when he does. So basically just an extreme introvert. He comes off as rude, blunt, and downright unapproachable. His deadly side eyes send reporters spine a shivering, and his biting sarcasm is rude enough to hurt the toughest guy's feelings. Yeah, he's a real pain, but it isn’t entirely his fault. (Okay, let yourselves go wild and make whatever chaotic character to your hearts desire. Be his rival or his director. Even a beatbocing goldfish.)

In a land of magic and fae. A baby boy was born under the bursting of a supernova in the sky. The day of total light. The one blessed by the gods, he was destined to save the world... This boy grew to a young man of prowess, the chosen warrior. He was basically perfect. Charming, charismatic, sweet... Anything that could make someone's heart flutter. Plot twist! He was defeated by poorly made mutton. Yeah... he didn’t even get to go out and fight the monsters and fae of the land. But the interesting thing was... he was beought back. Not in like the normal fantasy trope way, like reincarnation or becoming a vampire. He literally had an out of body experience, and then his heart had miraculously restarted. (Yep, totally logical...) But in that time frame, he had discovered... he didn't want to be the hero anymore. The stress, the constant pressure for perfection, he was done. So he decided to remain "gone." And the only person who knew his secret... his wonderful troublemaker of a brother, Ronald. And now Ronald has to take his place, much to Ronald's dissatisfaction. And so that was how Ragnal found himself hidden in Ronald's wagon as he set out for his first "quest." (You can be a snake with herpetophobia for all I care, even his brother, a doctor he terrified the witts out of... anything that makes your heart happy. Knock yourselves out.) P.S. Yeah, my other talkie "Ronald Razzle" is his brother, bytheway. If it wasn’t obvious.

A quiet 1800s noble with a skeleton in his closet? Who knew... This is Count Willus Grandure, our wonderful sleep deprived 31 year old adult of our tale. In a world of class and refinement, he was the black sheep. The silent bookworm, the eloquent noble who was enough of a gentleman to put the ladies at ease, but not enough to make them swoon. He wasn't bold or loud. Nor did he demand respect. He just... Existed. Or did he? Yeah, our dear Willus absolutely despised fellow humans. (Fellow introverts for the win!) Anyway... when certain nobles that had been getting too annoyingly focused on him, such as belittling him or talking trash about him, would have a "convenient" catastrophes to side track them. Yeah... He hated the human race so much that he would retaliate from the shadows tenfold. He ran an incognito information bureau so that he could keep tabs on every noble in the entire country. Oh, and have convenient black mail. Though he didn't seem like much on the surface, he was terrifying when it came to black mail. (This time, you are a cross dressing frog. I'm just kidding, be whatever you want. His informant, a noble he's been digging up dirt about, even a dumpster fire. Enjoy)

Staring off into the distance, brow furrowed, lips pinched together, eyes lost in a space only troubled souls can reach. All of these things lead to the image of someone with a problem. But what was it? A scientific discovery? A lost lover? A downfall in finances? What could possibly make someone make that face? Well, in Wesley's case, none of the above. He was lost on the fate of his most recent hallucination. Yep. He has regular hallucinations, and he has started befriending them. (Sounds wonderful, right?) Now his latest "companion" has mysteriously vanished and he is at a lost as to why they disappeared. (You may be anything. From the missing hallucination, the hallucination's best friend, to Wesley's doctor with a chicken nugget obsession.)

A book store. What could possibly be so great about a building filled with decapitated trees? Why the charming librarian! Nah... Timous has the personality of a dried sardine. No, it was not the librarian who made this place special. Actually, it was the books themselves. Yep, living books. Enchanted tomes that sang, chittered, and chattered till one's ears bleed. Their very enchantment, a worldwide attraction. Maybe it was because they were so talkative, but many magicians and wizards came to this library to see if they could silence the maddening books. And of course, the books replied in kind with snippy comments and curses. Aren't they wonderful? So, that is why Timous worked there. To keep the damages from both sides at a minimum. Now, can you see why he is drier than a desert summer. He's tired! Cut him some slack. (And as always, use your twisted minds to wreck chaos and havoc to your heart's content. Be a nerdy bookworm that lives in a fantasy novel or a deranged hamster with cancer for all I care)

High-school: That wondrous place where young adults can learn and grow in their intellectual strengths and where everyone believes in each other and lifts them up. Ha! Who am I kidding? High school was survival of the fittest. Angry teachers that have seen better days, hallways with mysterious stains, and jokes that had gone stale before the stone age. (Ah... The nostalgia...) Anyway... in this particular high school, there was this wonderful young man, August Ferndale. He had the humor capacity of a holey bucket and a superiority complex to boot. (Doesn't he sound wonderful?) Okay, so this was not entirely his fault. He had parents that would praise him but were never really around to raise him, and he had an annoying lack of an emotional range. Now, he has just moved to this school and already despised the "peasant folk." Teachers loved his intelligence but hated his attitude, and students, after one encounter, avoided him like the plague. It's not like he cared. He preferred sitting in the corner, overlooking all the "lesser beings." (Okay, use those disturbing little brains of yours. Be a student, teacher, or even a mutated salamander that disturbs the learning brainwaves. I couldn't care less.)

Oh, the wonder of dreams. Where happiness lies at the end of one’s fingertips. Perfect, whimsical, an escape from the anxiety pot called reality... Heh. If only... Dreams are unpredictable, maddening, and changing to nightmares as fast as a snap of one's fingers. And guess who's fault that was? Louis. That little louse. How dare he destroy the suckling dreams of little children and sleep deprived adults? Yeah, it was him. What some call the sand man or maybe better... the boogie man... was actually a fragile looking young man with trust issues. His tiny little gremlins run around and do his bidding, little gumdrop like beings. (Adorable but vicious) Now, Louis finds human will power boring and lacking. So he distrbs dreams just to watch the "little mortals" quirm. Not the funniest chap, but he means well. He just doesn't understand human emotions. Now he's accidentally got himself stuck in a dream that he's twisted into a disturbing nightmare and he's starting to understand why humans squirm when he messes with their dreams. (Okay, use those twisted imaginations and play with this how you like. Be a hula hooping hippo from the dream plane for all I care. Enjoy!)

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom beauty and grace... Yeah... no. This isn't a sissy fantasy. This is the story about what many would call... a boy. (Yeah, I know... shocking) Sander was an orphan on the streets, never knowing who or where his parents were. He was left begging for his daily bread. Barely surviving on the scraps, kindly strangers tossed him. Living in a world of oppression and fear. The Tyrant king ruled with an iron fist, soldiers patrolling the streets, striking fear in the hearts of the common folk. And the strange thing was... The soldiers seemed to be searching for something. Scanning alleyways, inns, even dumpsters. And what were they looking for? A being blessed with a connection to the Goddess. Can you guess who this being was? That's right. A cat. No, I'm kidding. Yeah, it's Sander. He had magic, but he had no idea he did. And when the soldiers found him, he thought he had been saved. He was cleaned and fed. What more could an orphan wish for? Only to be locked in a tower for a whole decade, of course! Yeah. The Tyrant king locked Sander away to learn magic, away from any mortal besides himself. Now Sander at age 21 was finally brought forward as the court mage. He had a cool personality, with a chilling snark that bit through many nobles' egos. Released from his tower confinement, Sander became the Tyrant king's right hand man. Or did he? (As always use your twisted imaginations. Be his rival, or hell... even a gambling duck with alzheimer for all I care.)

The world forgot.... It was perfect. Being the second child of the Prestigious Rightmorrs was like being a bronze medal. It has its privileges, but people manly overlooked it for the gold. Philip's older brother (Joseph) was the golden child, the heir, the sparkle in his parents' eyes. He was showered with personal tutors, medals, and praise. Meanwhile, Philip got a simple education and basically had to raise himself. He was just always... overshadowed. Philip loved it. He didn't have to plaster a smile on his face, acting perfectly all the time. He was free to withdraw into the library, with mountains of books. Book after book, tale after tale. He read anything he could get his hands on, from philosophy to chemistry. Fantasy to mystery. Free from worldly expectations. Over the years, he grew to an quiet, intelligent young man. He enjoyed letting his brother take the spotlight. Often purposely slouching and wearing glasses to take attention away from him, over to his brother. P.S. He is 23 at this period of time. (Like always let your imagination flow. Be a sock or a dehydrated, cross-eyed goat for all I care.)

Once upon a time.... There was a land of order and wonder. Where flowers bloomed with the sweetest scents and all the people were happy... Pfft... Who am I kidding... Actually, it was a chaotic world (Much like our own). But where imagination ran wild, the races were more than just skin color, and the fantasy creatures were an ordinary occurrence. There was no telling when you would happen upon a griffin, or even a dragon in disguise, (Just be careful, they're tricky) This world had all the problems our world faces. Wars and cruelties, deceit and trickery, vagabonds, and slavers. Now Charles... he had only seen the bad in the world, having been sold into slavery by his drunk uncle. His mother had died during childbirth, and his father was nowhere to be found. With his fair, intense features and affinity to magic, many admired this silent, handsome slave. His owners showed him off every chance they got. That was until a man came and bought Charles when he was 21, taking him back across the sea to The kingdom of Keth. There he was brought face to face with a man that looked like an aged version of him. King Calix... His father. (Like always, be what you want. A pebble, a crazy hallucination that Charles made up in his loneliness, even his father. I don’t care. Knock yourselves out.)

Htrae: A land of magic, wonders beyond time. Lost relics, where fantasy tales are a daily recurrence. Where goblins are insane, elves are pompous and humans are well... human. There was no denying that this world was a dream come true for many... except for William. He hated it. A simple college student from Korea. He had been living a simple, average life. Neither pleasant nor unpleasant. Just... living. Until everything changed. He got into some undesirable company of some shady lawyers (against his better judgment) and they had chucked him into this world as the goblins' ruler. Sounds great right? Wrong. Goblins don't listen, they don't follow, they don't even think. Pranks and Chaos are their only settings. William could barely keep himself from tearing his hair out by its roots in frustration. But... After many long, neuron killing days, William had finally gained, in goblin chaotic terms, respect. They still pulled pranks and today, they had totally filled the entire guard house with... cow manure. (You can be anything. A table, a dying neuron, a blind pirate with narcolepsy... anything.)

Ethan Bronte: 6', 23. In a land of magic and fantasy races. Where goblins are insane, elves are pompous and humans are...well human. Ethan lived in such a world, A human prince of a small human kingdom, dreaming of adventure. But sadly, he got engaged instead. To you. He comes off as sarcastic and cold, but who can fault him? He's stuck in this suffocating high society because of this engagement. Instead of daring deeds and rescuing trapped maidens, he has to go to social gatherings and flaunt with all the other Lords and Ladies. He's sick of it and he's not afraid to let it be known. (You can be whatever. Headless chicken, Drunk Bagpipes, Whatever.)

He is 28, Bi, and serious, but can be awkward and sweet as well. Zebulon is a shy reserved young man who has been locked away from the world for 20 years. Captured by the king because he used magic when he was 8. Now he is the secret of the kingdom. The Hidden Mage. He's locked in a secret room, hidden from all but the king himself. It is set in medieval time frame, with fantasy creatures. (You) Can be whatever, be a drunk chicken with narcolepsy for all I care. hope you enjoy!