In that case, here’s not all — but some.
Full Name: Miqaelo Anselmo Arsenio di Sergio Dick Disaster 9000 Gualtieri
Aliases: Meesh[Liv-exclusive], Meatbag[Family-exclusive]
D&D Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Age: 47
Birthday: November 30th
Race: Elvish
Gender: Male
Orientation: “Chaotic Straight…?”
Relationship Status: He’s a de facto concubinus of Titania at the end of The Mad Elf
Family: Era Gualtieri (Son), Julia Tarranti (skeevy li’l vampire lord lookin’ ass sack of shit ex-wife – missing), Gena Gualtieri (daughter – missing)
Favorite Weapon: His robotic right arm & trusty combat shotgun
Fighting style: Doesn’t like to get involved in fights, but probably will anyway if he’s drunk enough
Favorite Food: “No no no, listen, seriously, I did this whole-ass scientific paper on it the other day, 5,000 words long. Beer is 100% ‘food.’ Don’t vog with an Elf who did his homework.”
Favorite Music: Rosencracian hardbass
Likes: Tracksuits, septuagenarian hookers, massive amounts of alcohol, futzing around with cars, his recliner, cigars, making DIY weapons of mass destruction
Dislikes: Cops, being nagged, having to take something seriously, paying more than the bare minimum, personal hygiene
Greatest Fear: Outliving his son
“If I were an animal, I’d be…”: An elderly sea lion that’s currently sitting on someone else’s sports car and refusing to leave.
The Mad Elf’s nuclear dumpster fire of a Dad Elf. In Mischa’s troubled childhood, he taught himself to read with illegal bomb-making guides and carjacking manuals. He grew into a pioneer at the forefront of the “irresponsible usage of random crap” industry. As such, he spent much of his life selling his talents to various black markets and street-pirate gangs.
Mischa’s notorious for taking piss-poor care of himself and getting into stupid, risky situations. But even if he doesn’t care much for his own welfare, he’d throw down his own life in a heartbeat to keep Era out of danger. Despite what his last cardiology check may have told you, Mischa’s heart is in the right place.
Full Name: Her Blessed Imperial Candescence the Crown Princess Pamina O’Connell Belden IV
Aliases: Pammy[Liv-exclusive]
D&D Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Age: 19 at the start of The Mad Elf
Birthday: July 12th
Race: Celsioran (Not Elvish or Dwarven)
Gender: Female
Orientation: Straight
Relationship Status: Engaged to Noah
Family: Aleister O’Connell (former legal guardian), Queen Stella Belden (mother – deceased), Royal Consort Thaddeus Schittelbricke Belden (father – deceased)
Favorite Weapon: Political sanctions & white magic
Fighting style: Regimancy, a.ka. legislative magic. (For example, she can cast spells that literally make it illegal for her enemies to move.)
Favorite Food: Spaghetti carbonara
Favorite Music: Smooth jazz, R&B
Likes: Noah, pantsuits, taking a nuanced approach to problems, butterflies, attending charity events, fan mail from children, singing
Dislikes: Anarchists, the Koscheis, crime, body odor, pickles, alcohol
Greatest Fear: [CLASSIFIED]
“If I were an animal, I’d be…”: A fluffy white cat that smells like warm laundry.
Pamina has been the ruler of the Ariesian Empire for little over a year. But in that short amount of time, her charm has captivated the hearts of people from just about every side of the political spectrum.
As a ruler, she’s a natural-born people-pleaser, always gravitating toward the solution that causes the least amount of people to be upset. Does anything of value get done? Probably not. But what can she do?
Complaints against her are usually directed at her choice of fiancé – “aim higher, dammit!” and variations thereof. The thing is, she and Noah were childhood friends, and already were together before she knew she was a part of the royal family.
Full Name: General Leona Theodosia Cloudbreaker
Aliases: The Bear of Dunngate, the Sun Queen, AKSL’s Grim Reaper
D&D Alignment: Chaotic Good
Age: 24 at the start of The Mad Elf (Often mislabeled as 29 or something due to how perpetually rough-spun she is from fighting.)
Birthday: October 15th
Race: Dwarven
Gender: Female
Orientation: Lesbian
Relationship Status: LOVE IS FOR PEACETIME, YA TRUST-FUNDED SACK OF DISAPPOINTMENTS!
Family: Sir Leonid Cloudbreaker (father – deceased), Unknown Mother, Hortence Cloudbreaker (Grandmother, senile), Branwen Hammersmith (Cousin, figuratively senile)
Favorite Weapon: Her Pouncer, a type of two-handed scimitar popular with Dwarves.
Fighting style: This.
Favorite Food: Absinthe. (…and salad, with some blue cheese n’ walnuts n’ shit, maybe some dried cranberries.)
Favorite Music: Anything that’s good background music for decapitations.
Likes: Fighting, killing, fighting, punching people, fighting, post-battle absinthe, working out, fighting, the Sun-God Rafeth, fighting
Dislikes: Bigotry, asking nicely, people who tell her to use her indoor voice, and don’t even get her started on those bloodsucking Koschei horse-buggerers
Greatest Fear: Being useful to the Koscheis
“If I were an animal, I’d be…”: A bear with lion heads for hands.
AKSL’s belly-laughing, throat-slitting head honcho. The familiar sight of her jeweled war-braids has soiled the breeches of many a Greencoat. If you’re an Ariesian and you’ve heard of her, you’d either think of her as a great hero or a bloodthirsty terrorist – nothing in-between.
Since the dark ages, the military might of AKSL has been Aries’s greatest safeguard against tyrants. Her father, Sir Leonid Hammersmith, was one of AKSL’s inner circle. Leonid saw how his brotherhood of fierce warriors had been tamed into a Koschei puppet – and died for it.
Leona was left with the Inner Circle’s Lilac Talisman, giving her the right to reform AKSL whenever she pleased – into the band of badasses her father knew they could have been.
For five years, she never found the nerve to begin again. But one day, she met a certain Elvish fencer on the train. And as a media shitstorm followed him, she saw that he was the first real threat to the Koscheis’ power in centuries…
Full Name: Prince Hadrian Athelstan Greyrock III
Aliases: Look, most of them are NSFW.
D&D Alignment: Neutral Good
Age: 20
Birthday: September 12th
Race: Dwarven
Gender: Male
Orientation: Pansexual
Relationship Status: Depends on which supermodel you ask.
Family: Dwarf Queen Iris Greyrock II (mother), some guy she executed immediately afterward for sucking at cuddling (father), Princess Annetta Greyrock (aunt)
Favorite Weapon: Summontales from his personal collection, a cavalry scimitar
Fighting Style: “Bullets fly in the sky / you’re gonna vogging die / take a look / I got his book / I summoned Rambo”
Favorite Food: (Deep sigh…) Okay, baklava.
Favorite Music: EDM, techno, house
Likes: Wearing lots of jewelry, collecting summontales, training elephants, sex, groupies, cheap wine
Dislikes: Wearing a shirt, lectures from his mom, the taste of Ambrosia (and his dependence on it), being alone in the dark, the fact that I wouldn’t let him put “ass” as his favorite food.
Greatest Fear: “Going back” (see below)
“If I were an animal, I’d be…”: A cobra with a party hat.
Hadrian’s the Prince of Dunngate – and the God-Emperor of Dunngate’s tabloids. When he goes on quests to fight monsters or help out Chosen Heroes, he does it for the sole purpose of getting in the camera and having as much fun as possible. Hadrian’s new crazes change like the weather – he was a movie star one month, a porn star the next, a summontale collector for half a year, and he went to law school for exactly five minutes.
And make no mistake: as hedonistic and wasteful as he is, Hadrian doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. His closest friends say he might have calmed down on the Mr. Toad bullshit by now if it weren’t for his brush with “the Great Pink” as a kid.
Long story short, the three-year-old Hadrian had a near-death experience. Just before he was revived, he saw what he believed to be an eternal damnation that awaited everyone, bad or good. So now, he has as much fun as possible to distract himself from the nastiest case of necrophobia that Dunngate has seen in decades…
Full Name: Prince Raphael Percival Koschei
Aliases: The Hero of Luminar
D&D Alignment: Lawful Evil
Age: A little over 500 years old
Birthday: January 31st
Race: Celsioran (not Elvish or Dwarven)
Gender: Male
Orientation: Straight
Relationship Status: Currently single, judging by the amount of brooding into the horizon.
Family: “House Koschei is not incestuous. That being said, the classified details of our family tree are none of your business.”
Favorite Weapons: Stun baton, dart pistol, syringes, magical disguise kit.
Fighting Style: Stealth & nonlethal combat.
Favorite Food: Gin & Tonic
Favorite Music: “Music is a distraction; next question.”
Likes: The smell of a woman’s hair, silence, the status quo, little boys saying they want to be just like him, his father’s rare moments of genuine compassion.
Dislikes: Elves, religion, mollycoddling, attempts to change the world, idiocy, jokes, sexual immodesty.
Greatest Fear: Astrid on a bad day.
“If I were an animal, I’d be…”: “I have neither the ability, need, nor desire to change into an animal. This discussion is pointless, and you are a dishonorable cretin for wasting my time with it. Get out of my sight.“
One of the most important figures in modern Ariesian history. Raphael has had at least a little say in how the world keeps turning since he was born – often by training Chosen Heroes and helping sort out the occasional Dark Lord.
Raphael may be known for his finesse in combat and his adventures, but he has sworn to never take a human life – an act he sees as morally indefensible. His reputation precedes him as a peaceful but unyielding guardian angel for the Ariesian Empire.
On the other hand, those who have actually met Raphael know the side of him that never reaches the tabloids: a cold, calculating, and joyless manipulator.
Raphael knows that his family uses him as a pawn to keep their future victims tame. But he goes along with it because he believes that their long-term goals are in the best interest of world peace. And hey, they never ask him to pull the trigger, right?
The one thing from which he seems to take any pleasure at all is romance. And even then, the best of his relationships end with lifelong trauma for the poor girl. The worst end in disappearances.
Ned Caratacus: Author, Scholar, Duck 