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Name: Mekhet Dwat
Gender: male
Raven Power: instant karma; this power brings any pain, injury, or other injustice back upon the transgressor. also works in a positive way.
Essence Appearance: 4 foot tall, half angelic, half demonic, split down the middle like the demi-goddess Hel of nordic Nifelheim. the right half has white skin, white hair that runs straight to his waist, a large snowy owls wing, and a paw and tail from a white cougar. the left half has black skin, long black hair in tight curls, a large fruit bats wing, a ravens talon (enlarged to fit) and demonic tail (long, thin, with a barb at the tip). both sides; bright, penitrating purple eyes, humanistic face and head, pointy elf-like ears, vampyre-like fangs, and yes, he has two tails.
Humanoid Appearance: red-gold spikey hair, bright green eyes, mischevious grin, 5'11", lean build. goes by the name of Chris.
Magic Weapon: Shadows Justice: a silver knife, coverd with runes in black print. a black hilt, with leather grip, and blood ruby. this knife makes wounds that never heal unless decreed by the weilder. he can chose to make the knife harmless and not even bruise a tomato, or sharp and hard enough to cut through adamantium.
Magic Armor: Hel's Embrace: invisible to the untrained eye, to the etherial watcher, however, it appears as a cloak, half white, half black, but opposite sides to his essence form. clings to him as a second skin yet weightless. brotects against imbalence by shifting the balence of the wearer; if a town if full of good people of the light then he comes a dark bane to the light, if a town is full of theives and murderers, then he becomes a worker of light to banish the dark. etc. works defencivly too but only if among others that don't have much protection.
Other Unique Equipment: Deaths Flower: an amulet that grants him vocal access to any of the great judges/guardians of the underworld; thoth, anubis, hel, hades, etc. with which he can judge a souls worth and send it to the correct place in the afterlife. it's silver, decorated with blood garnet, in the shape of the yin/yang orobouros, dragyn eating his own tail. the dragyn is wrapped around the circle, garnets along its length, and the yin part is blacked silver, like his rune blade.

I am sir Dranus Muoiery, a bard of old England. I tell you the story of the Ravens in hopes of entertaining and enlightening you. I must tell you, this is a story passed down from father to son, son to son and furhter down the lines of lineage. It is as old as the world, if not older at that. So, without further delay, I give you the story...

"Swish. The rock fell quietly through the air. In a echoeing boom, the stone struck the mountain side and caused the entire face of the mountain to avalanche downward onto the beach below. A path had been cut into the side where daily avalnches fell.

Thousands of miles above the mountain was an island of a different sort, a floating island of rock. Chains on each side of the sky island dangled quietly, suspending the island to the planet below. A quiver. The chain shuddered as a sudden and unforseen force struck the flying mass. A large vessel, wooden with two long wings of magic emerging from the sides, dropped onto the rock, a long wooden walkway slid down onto the stone surface. Slowly, a being cloaked in a heavy feather blanket stepped onto the walkway with a righteous and powerful air about him. The air was cold, so cold that the feathers lining his cloak froze instantly. He stepped onto the land and gazed upon a city of silver, spiralling towers of silver stood at its center and a huge semi-transparent dome of silver enclosed it. It was a city of riches, a city of weapons, a city of his new domain.

The Rock, as the island would come to be known to the humans, shuddered again. And through the air sailed another hundred thousand vessels, followed closely by many more hundreds of thousands of vessels.
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Meanwhile, many many islands away, there stood a quiet little town. The buildings were what the humans would call victorian style, and at the towns middle was a larger building, a much more romaneque style with pillars leading to its massive double doors. Tired old men dwaddled on its lustious front yard and spoke wearily of politics and economy, two things Manesque had to much of. Encircling the city was a beautiful white-washed stone wall, built more for appearance than to keep anything or anyone out. Just outside the wall was a dark, ancient forest. Mymoss crawled slowly across the surface in search of bacteria to devour and a musty odor and haze lingered in the air. A cobblestone pathway lead from the gate of Manesque through the forest and forked in the center, leading to a clearing. A slightly raised area of polished granite sat in the center.

A little man wearing a brown cloak kneeled on the granite and said a quite prayer to an unseen god. He turned suddenly at the clatter of hooves on the stone pathway behind. Two horses draped in white silk cloth galloped quickly down the pathway, each bearing a rider also draped in cloth, however, the cloth they wore was black and seemed to be alive, groping at the air around. The horses sped into the town and stopped in the center, bowing their heads at a man ahead.

"Maaaasterrrr," The mouth of one of the horses opened slowly and a rasppy voice emerged, "Master," The voice became clear and consise, a voice of a woman, mabey in her mid twenties, echoed from the horses mouth, "Master, Dreachat and I bear the Ravens. The council says the Ravens are rare and to find two in this day and age is remarkable, Thus they are apprehensive of leaving them in your care. The council also reminds you that the Ravens will be released from your care immediately should the council find a more efficient use for them."

"Yes, yes. Tell the council I think them for entrusting the guardians to me and that I am in their debt. I have signed the agreement, you can tell the council that my land is now their land. I leave you bearers of men and will now bring the Ravens to the elders to speak of their duties." The man, in his late thirties with a recedeing hairline and a few grey hairs springing from his head, spoke to the horses and helped each Raven off of the horses and towards the grand embassy of the council, the large building I spoke of earlier.

The inside was magnificent. A massive circular room with a polished, shining floor of various stones placed in a mosaid of a dragon was the greeting area to the structures guests. Two staircases spiralled up from either side of the room and ended on a balcony floor above, overlooking the greeting room. However, the Ravens were not lead up these, instead they were brought through two double doors to the inner sanctum, where twelve men of their fourties to fifties sat overlooking the room. The Ravens were brought to the center where they found two very uncomfortable, wooden chairs. The Ravens sat down, their drapings of black writhing away from the ground, and looked onto the assembly of the elders.

One of the elders, a man in his late fifties or mabey early sixties, an age not commonly attained in this age, stood from his seat and opened his mouth as if to speak. For a moment he stood, sucking air into his lungs, then he spoke, "Ravens. I am Moarian Gustavius." He stopped and sucked in more air, "This is the assembly of the elders. We will merely ask you a few questions before we tell you what you are here to do." His legs shook under him and he sat for a moment to regain his composure, before standing and, yet again, pulling more air in, "Firstly, what do you wish us to call you?"

( As a side note, I'd like to add that the humans in this live very short lives, generally to their mid fifties if their lucky. )