Durmstrang iNPC Update

Character: Hanzo Franssen

Is your character a Broom Racer? NO
Is your character a Quidditch Player? YES
Is your character a Duelist? No

Statistics Update [+5 Wisdom]
Stamina: 4
Evasion: 10
Strength: 1
Wisdom: 8+5=13
Arcane Power: 1

Accuracy: 10

41/41 [+1 Quidditch Win via Rafael]

Abilities
Year I: Nonhuman Enthusiast [Previously Approved]
Year II: Comprehend Languages [Parseltongue]

Reducio

Hanzo, for as long as he could remember, had been burdened with a terrible bout of curiosity.

A sickness it was, or perhaps it was a blessing, should one count the constant pursuit of knowledge a beneficiary to one’s growth – while many adults had smiled upon the boy’s progressive endeavors, no words could dismiss the skepticism held within the mind of the third year, nor take back the years of bullying he had endured in his search for answers. However, though he’d found a great deal of trouble in his studies, he couldn’t find a reason to take back those years in favor of a different course. Now a master of four languages, he knew full well that his endeavors would come with great reward – but, of course, there was no reason to stop due his lengthy advancements. If he’d learned one thing from his endeavors as a Quidditch Captain, it was that one could never stop learning.

Perhaps this is what spurred the boy’s interest in Parseltongue. A difficult language it was, if not beautiful, the linguistics a fickle creature of its own in the way it twisted like the progression of a river, falling off the tongue like sweet water and pouring into the open air. From the first time he’d heard it, spoken from the lips of a customer in his mother’s wand shop, Hanzo had found himself wildly intrigued, perhaps even mystified by the strange, foreign syllables – being as strong-willed and astute as he was, it was a silly notion to consider disregarding the pursuit this strange new knowledge. A mere first-year at the time, he knew with a stark certainty what he was to do – it didn’t matter what his peers told him, whether or not it was possible, if he could do it. He would speak Parselmouth, some way, somehow. Rules, after all, were meant for shattering, were they not?

Learning the language was not in the least an easy endeavor – his studies, rather, took the span of two long years, and even at the pinnacle of mastery, he was still lost in the strange linguistics. The pronunciation, after all, was a mystery all in its own, the words slurring together and stated in a way that was distant to the young scholar, a foreign concept to his poor Norwegian tongue. No matter how much he twisted his lips, mouthed the syllables – no, the boy would never be able to speak the snake language, no matter how hard he tried, a fact that was only evident now that he had finally completed his studies. However, his hard work had bore some fruit – upon journeying out to his father’s garden on a particularly sunny day during his break, he could hear the cool tones of a snake nearby, the animal hissing in a language he could now understand perfectly. So he could, in the least, understand the words of the snakes. A smile would curl onto his face in the moment, his eyes bright as he shoved a fist in the air – a master of five languages! Way to go, Hanzo! [516w]

PENDING: -
Team -Just so you know, both your main character and your iNPC cannot play Quidditch at the same time. This is because it would be a conflict of interest if you're on both teams. It would also give you a guaranteed stat point if you played on both teams, i.e. Gryffindor /Hogwarts with you on it versus Durmstrang. So, in the event of a conflict, you would have to pick just one team to support and step away from the other entirely, this being very hard on team captains and the teams themselves as player last minute walk away from roles). If you want to make any changes, let me know in another post as this one will be locked to edits due to the approvals.

Stats -You accidentally missed off 2 points (in strength). I assume your strength should be 3, as it was before and you want to add +5 to Wisdom only, so I'll add the full +5 to Wisdom. Sorry, just realised that you can't add +5 to Wisdom and it breaks your 2nd year caps of 10.

Second Year: you cannot have more than 10 points in any one stat.

Requires an edit
Ability - Approved.

Updates unapproved. Date is Sept. 19.Last entry by author Sept 1. Stats need to be altered. Cannot play quidditch on both teams.

Name: Alexander Theodore Baron Age: 12 School Year: Third Year Race: Full-Human Blood Status: Pure-Blood Broom Racer?: Yes Stats: STA: 7 | EVA: 10 | STR: 6 | WIS: 8 | ARC: 3 | ACC: 6

Appearance:

Reducio

Alexander has sharp, thin eyes that are icy blue, a color that offsets his near shock white hair with an aura of arrogance. He tries to tame it by slicking it back (Malfoy style) though it often escapes, leaving him with a blonde tuft that makes him seem softer than is probably safe. English-Born, he has clear, pale skin and strong facial features. People often tell him he looks much older than he is, which is something he takes with pride. He's taller than average and always made up, with a charming (maybe disarming) smile. He'd prefer to wear a suit to school, but seeing as he strives to be the perfect model student, you'll always find him in proper uniform. With long, thin fingers and similar limbs, he's extraordinary at the piano and athletics, which have given him a fair amount of lean muscle over time. Overall, he's an attractive boy who always strives for aesthetic perfection.

WC: 300

Personality:

Reducio

By all appearances, Alexander is the essential model student. He's kind and rather giving, a boy who always has a smile to offer and something charming to say. He's not particularly outgoing, but he demands attention with his cool, collected nature and he's sure to seek you out if you're someone in high standing. Intelligent and studious, he's developed into a brilliant strategist and a hard worker, someone who's garnered the praise of many of his teachers. As the epitome of an aristocrat's son, he'd never display anything less than perfect. But it isn't as if he is.

Inwardly, Alexander is a judgemental narcissist. He's got an analytical eye, seeing the people around him as puzzles to unravel. If you're advantageous to him, he'll keep you close. If you're not, he'll probably smile anyway. Appearances are a weapon, after all, and he never cracks. He has strong opinions about everyone he sees, most of which are not positive. It isn't as if he hates everyone, but most people are exhausting and a waste of his time. But obviously, he'd never tell them that. It would ruin the illusion.

There's only one time he ever slips: when he comes face to face with someone inhuman. Half-breed or special talent, he can't stand either of them. Anyone who sympathizes with them gets on his bad side too. Still, Alexander's nothing without his smiles. It just might be a little more forced than usual.

Of course, he isn't faking it 100% of the time. There are people he can grudgingly respect and those he can come to care for. Most likely, if you ask him for something, he'll deliver to the best of his ability. But whether or not the smile he's got is genuine... you'll never really know.

WC: 300

History:

Reducio

Born on Septemeber 23, 2007 to Alastair and Elizabeth, Alexander Baron was immediately thrust into a world of luxury. Alastair's parents (his grandparents) had apparently been some of the most prestigious wixes of their time, garnering the status and wealth that came with it, and his mother's side had no shortage of finances themselves. From a young age, the wizard began numerous studies with the best tutors money could buy. He found early on that he was quite talented in the piano, as well as in a plethora of other sports and subjects.

There was something odd about the Baron household, however. Though Alexander's parents had no shortage of stories declaring the grandeur of their family name, the boy could never find anything about them in the history books he poured over day in and day out. He attended parties with them, experienced firsthand the extent of their wealth, but it seemed that no one knew who his family was, nor did they share such stories around the hearth of other grand houses. In fact, the time he'd attempted to tell a few curious boys the deeds of his grandfather, his mother had reprimanded him strictly, saying it was nothing to be discussed. This left him obviously confused. To Alexander, it seemed that the Baron name had been stricken from history almost entirely.

On numerous occasions, he tried to question his parents about this, but they only shook him off with an excuse or two. They'd never truly had time for him anyway, leaving him under the care of his many housemaids, so it wasn't something Alexander was surprised about. Rather, he saw it as a challenge, something that they'd perhaps be proud of if he managed to figure it out. That left only a few options. He asked around his staff, but none of them provided any useful information. He considered going to his grandparents directly, but they'd always terrified him—not that he'd admit it. So Alexander headed over to his uncle's house.

Azreal Baron lived alone in a house nearly as large as Alexander's. It was a place the boy was familiar with; he'd grown close to his uncle over the years, always going over to play or study or display his latest feat of intelligence. In return, Azreal told him stories that not even his parents did—detailed his own studies in a school called Hogwarts, amazed him with firsthand accounts of the work he once did when he was "younger and more spry."

When Alexander showed up with his question, Azreal's face darkened. He pulled the boy inside and sat him on the couch, pacing around the room solemnly. Finally, he looked up and began his story. Azreal Baron had gone to a school called Hogwarts, yes, but he'd never finished schooling there. Perhaps he might of, if not for an event that happened the summer between his Sixth and Seventh Year. According to him, he'd been bitten in his own home by a very large snake. A very large, very poisonous snake. One controlled by something called a Parselmouth.

Alexander's eyes widened as he listened. Apparently, this Parselmouth had been jealous of Azreal's status. She'd sent the snake to dispose of him, and by disposing of him, end the Baron bloodline (this is entirely false, she merely meant to scare him with a paralyzing bite, but perspective is perception). When the Baron family had exposed her plot, they'd been understandably outraged. They'd wanted justice. But the Parselmouth had fled somewhere into muggle world, running with her tail between her legs. Alexander's grandparents had demanded that she be found and face court, and they'd tried, tried for years to find a snake hidden in the shadows of skyscrapers and back alleyways.

They tried for so long, became so obssessed with bringing her down that they'd neglected the rest of their duties. They no longer went out on Auror business nor fought in wizarding duels. The public outrage only lasted so long, but the Barons were fantastical, fixated on finding this girl and forcing her to face her crimes. They'd nearly exhausted all their wealth too, had Alexander's father not set some aside. What Azreal failed to mention was that the girl was a talented witch, a slippery snake that was impossible to hang onto. That's what spiraled what should have been months into years, a seemingly endless search.

But finally, they found her. They found her and they disposed of her, just as she'd intended to do to them. But by then, the damage was done. Sure, the Baron's still had their wealth and what remained of their status, but disappearing for that long had forced them out of the public eye. It wasn't something so easily regained either, seeing as the Mr. and Mrs. Baron had grown old by now. Just like that, his entire family had faded into obscurity (yeah definitely, not like you still have a mansion and go to parties Alexander smh).

Alexander was pissed. How could someone do that? How could someone bring down an entire family, try to murder a person, just for their own ambition? What kind of twisted person—he ran home. In an old textbook, the boy found a broad history of Parselmouths. From there, he fell into Seers, then Metamorphagus, Dhampirs, Werewolves, Veela. He festered a hate that smoldered within him as he took in the evils of those who were inhuman. Half-breeds. Two-faced.

Two-faced. It was kind of—clever. Evil, but then, what was evil if not clever? Appearances were important to them; they pretended to be normal to get close to you, then revealed their true colors when the time was right. That had to be how all of them worked. They were inhuman, lesser. But clever.

The Barons were proud of their youngest's realization. They watched as he changed; unnoticeably to anyone but them really, but at the parties they attended, he began a mask of unbreakable perfection. He got close to anyone he chose to. He charmed anyone and everyone with a smile. He was a model gentleman, always kind and helpful. Eventually, even his parents had a difficult time figuring out what ran through Alexander's brain. He reveled in it, unnoticeably. He'd always wanted their pride.

Life went on, for the most part.

Alexander's first taste of magic happened around age eight, something simple that sent a glass of water flying into his hand, not a drop spilling over the rim. The Barons were ecstatic. They made preparations to send him to Durmstrang immediately, ignoring the fact that Hogwarts was that much closer.

His First and Second Year at Durmstrang, Alexander maintained his standing. He prided himself on success, both academically and socially. He took up broom racing, something he found himself talented in despite his long limbs. It wasn't hard to gather important people around him, people who might someday bring his family back to the power it once was. That it ought to have been.

No one at Durmstrang was inhuman. But Third Year, setting his sights on that four-colored crest—Alexander's smile wavered. Just a little.

WC: 1018

Abilities:
Non-Human Enthusiast:

Reducio

Alexander scrawled a messy line onto the parchment in front of him as the monotonous drone of the lecture echoed through the room. Hmm. This was boring. And the professor was an utter fool.

Shifting his features into a smile that hid his sigh, he readjusted, pressing his chin into his palm. Even in this semi-relaxed state, Alexander kept his eyes trained on the blackboard, icy blues focused just enough to make it seems as though he was paying attention. Not that he needed to. He'd already learned this all before.

The professor at the front of the class caught his eye. Alexander curled them into crescent moons, hiding his flat mouth behind his palm. He didn't miss the way the man's mouth twitched upward before he turned and began the lecture anew. The wizard fought the urge to roll his eyes. It was almost too easy, pleasing these bastards.

He sank a little lower in the chair, idly scratching his quill tip to the blank paper in an act of half-boredom, half-show. Any second now, he swore he was going to fall asleep. That would be an utter disaster. But really, he could be doing anything else right now, like practicing for the upcoming recital or doing barrel rolls on the racing field. Anything other than this.

Well, there was one thing he could do. Absentmindedly, with his eyes still trained on the professor, Alexander slid a worn book out from under his required texts. Nimble fingers knew exactly what page to turn to without him sparing a glance, the edges worn and seams nearly tearing.

Hiding his grin, he shifted again, this time presenting a picture of the model student reviewing his notes. But the words staring up at him had absolutely nothing to do with the lecture. Instead, the pages were filled with nearly everything there was to know about inhumans. Anything that wasn't present in the blocky print was neatly scribbled in the margins, hundreds of little doodles detailing attributes and weaknesses alike.

This was the one thing Alexander never found boring. It seemed that every time he reread this book, something new would appear. Besides, there was enough disgust humming through his veins to fuel his obsession with the creatures. He wanted to pick them apart, see what made them tick, and find the best ways to tear them down.

He turned the page slowly, eyes roving his past notes. Faintly, he registered something the professor said, but it fell away as the wizard worked his way through the pages. His skin began to prickle with that old resentment, and a thousand thoughts spiraled through his head.

Dhampirs can be blood-baited. Werewolves lose control. Alexander turned a little faster, losing himself a little bit more. Metamorphmagi only copy those they get close to. Part-Giants are hopeless at magic. He couldn't help the slightest slip of a maniac smile, the world lost to him. Part-Veela are temperamental. Seers can be emotionally traumatized and sometimes faint. Part-Goblins are few and far between. Parselmouths—

"Alexander, can you answer this question?"

He stopped, staring at the pages with a blank look. Sh*t, he'd gone too deep. Slowly, he raised his head, a soft smile already back in place.

"The four branches of Transfiguration are Transformation, Untransfiguration, Conjuration, and Vanishment, not necessarily in order of difficulty."

The professor nodded, beaming at him and Alexander returned a soft smile. His eyes hid something dark still; something he'd have to get rid of before anyone got to close. It was good that Durmstrang didn't have any inhumans. He clutched at the book he'd discreetly moved to his lap, golden lettering spelling out: "A Monster Hunter's Guide to All Things Non-Human."

WC: 621

Charmer:

Reducio

"Alexander!"

The boy turned at the sound of his name, eyes already scanning for its source. It wasn't particularly easy—there was quite a crowd occupying his home, seeing as a party was currently in full swing. He reached up to push his hair out of his eyes. Normally, it would be slicked back and out of the way, but today he'd left it loose, choosing to embrace that rather innocent air it gave him. With the clean, white suit and polished attire, it made for a good touch of normalcy. He'd found early on that too much perfection made people feel unsettled. And that was never his goal.

"Alexander, my boy!" Finally, the voice had itself known. Alexander moved to greet him, extending a pale hand.

"Mr. Caster, I'm so glad you could make it," he said, lips curving up.

"But of course!" the man exclaimed. He took Alexander's hand and gave it a firm squeeze. The boy returned it, laughing at his over-enthusiasm. F*ck, his stupid voice was grating at his eardrums. Alexander retracted the hand and pulled back into an upright stance.

"Can I help you with anything tonight?" he asked politely. His family was hosting after all, and a good host always asks. Mr. Caster gave him a sly grin, one that made Alexander want to barf into his fake smile.

"Actually, I was wondering if you might introduce yourself to my daughter Carolyn."

"I would be honored!" the boy exclaimed, flashing that light in his eyes to sell himself just a tad bit more. Carolyn Caster, hmm? Honey-blonde, about his age, daughter of one of the richest families around. Yes, he'd definitely be honored.

Following Mr. Caster across the room, Alexander kept his gait even and his head high. He was naturally tall, but there was nothing like good posture to accentuate one's features. Soon enough, he came face to face with the girl herself.

"Miss Caster, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Alexander Baron," he greeted, tipping his head slightly. The girl seemed rather shy, face flushing as he stared down at her.

"Hello," she returned softly. Alexander leaned in closer, shrinking the space between them to a few inches.

"I apologize, could you repeat that?" Of course, he'd heard her perfectly fine. But hey, this was one way to start a conversation and from the look on her face—she appreciated it.

"O—oh, I said hello. It's a pleasure to meet you too." Alexander smiled.

"Carolyn, shall we—" His words were cut off as a shout came from behind him. In a smooth sweep, he turned, catching someone by the arm. A guest. He must have tripped. He collapsed into his chest, promptly spilling their drink down the front of his shirt. How disgusting.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. Alexander took him gently by the shoulders and set him upright, fingers plucking the empty glass from his grip. He could feel the wetness already seeping into his skin. He smiled.

"No worries! Are you alright?"

The other boy seemed a bit shocked at his reaction. He reached up to scratch at the back of his neck, shrugging sheepishly. Not a good habit. A bad presentation of manners.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks." He looked nervous, probably expected at least a hint of contempt from the white-haired wizard, but Alexander just laughed.

"It happens to the best of us." He extended the glass back to the boy who took it with careful fingers. At least he could manage that much. Glancing down at his shirt, Alexander allowed himself half a sigh.

"I'm terribly sorry Carolyn, but I'll probably have to change. Wait for me?"

The girl blushed a little harder, nodding her head. Hmm, shyness was not particularly attractive. Giving her a wave, he started out of the room.

"That boy," a few women tittered behind him, "always such a gentleman. He'll grow up to be quite the charmer."

Alexander left the room smirking. Charmer indeed.

WC: 661

Approved
Personality/Appearance (Approved)
History -- (Approved)
Stats -- (Approved)
Abilities -- Non-human Enthusiast| Charmer (Approved)

Hogwarts is known for their Parselmouths, not that they are particularly common. That was sadly the focus of your studies, you missed some of the strange happenings going on in other places. However, you did notice something interesting about Hogwarts due to this interest. Yes, the unusual number of parselmouths that reportedly go there. However, there was something else. It was the media coverage regarding dark races and traits in Hogwarts, a sweltering climate that has garnered the attention of politicians. It might be a part of the debate that propels a politician to the rank of Minister.

Durmstrang iNPC Update

Character: Alexander Ward

3. Is your character a Duelist? NO

Just a small change: I just realised that if my iNPC is a duellist, then my PC can't be one; so yeah, if it's possible I'd like to change him from being a duellist, to not being one.
I'm really sorry for the inconvenience!

APPROVED

Stats are fine but the rest need editing so leaving this unlocked.
Ability: Pending - This is too graphic for this site, given the context. From the site rating, copy-pasting the rule, which explains how to fix this:

Reducio

Parental abuse must never be described and must be mentioned implicitly only:
This is an extremely important matter and must never be taken in a joking manner. In that sense, the description of events must not be explicit in nature and or reference. Ways to do this is to vaguely allude to injuries or descriptions of how the events have affected the student. But keep in mind that there is no self-harm allowed. Write with purpose.

Approved - Ability and stats!

Ash Andwiltz

Terrible Presence [accepted]
Statistically relevant [will finish later]
STA||7+1=8
EVA||6
STR||6
WIS||8+2=10
ARC P||1+2=03
ACC||7

Stats: Approved
Ability: Please post in a different post when ready.

Approved

Something odd happened during the summer. It seemed silly to think about it. There were a lot of people there, it just did not make any sense. There was someone that seemed to be watching them. Actually not someone, but something. Not that he would admit to it, this feeling of being watched. This childish fear. Especially when he said it was not by something human. It was the darkness, he saw it and it was not his imagination. How some shadows were not cast by anything. How some seemed to move of their own accord. This terrible feeling that they were being watched.

Character: Hanzo Franssen

Is your character a Broom Racer? NO
Is your character a Quidditch Player? NO
Is your character a Duelist? YES

Stamina: 4
Evasion: 10
Strength: 1
Wisdom: 8+2=10
Arcane Power: 1+3=4
Accuracy: 10

My bad.... again. - sweats - Hope this is okay!

Approved - Just for papertrail, you've accidentally missed off two points of strength again (giving yourself 1 instead of 3, which was a total of 39 instead of 41). Fixed this. So your new stats are:

Stamina: 4
Evasion: 10
Strength: 3
Wisdom: 10
Arcane Power: 4
Accuracy: 10

Everything seemed normal less one incident that has since followed him. It was after the match with Hogwarts, something was wrong with his broom. Damaged perhaps in the melee that was a battle he might have felt he should have won, it was a close match. His broom was not cracked but it felt heavy, heavier than it should. The boy knew his broom better than some knew their lover. It remained heavy for a short time after he returned to his homeland, it might have been a consideration to replace the broom but there was a sentiment that came with the tribulations they had already overcome together. It was not until after he had returned to school, seemingly (accurately) overnight his broom returned to normal.

Approved

There has been a fair amount of media attention involving squibs and muggles. How their curiosity has been threatening the way of life of civilized wizards. Anyone with a brain (and a wealthy estate) seemed to agree, squibs were dangerous. There were a few reckless sympathizers petitioning coexistence, this has resulted in minor scuffles in the halls. Some you might have witnessed. some you may have even participated in or broken up.

APPROVED

There has always been some turmoil, some tension between the magic and the mundane. The media never let anything go, it would not be news if it was not drama. Still there have been tensions, stuff mentioned in the media and repeated blindly by the sheeple. Yet there was one curiosity that happened after the Quidditch match in London. This queer sense of being watched or followed. Some mentioned missing or moved personal items, easily done by a peer. There were a few that had noticed something in the dark, but you did not see any of this first hand. In fact what you saw was the curious and potentially unsettling nature of your peers.

DURMSTRANG iNPC UPDATE

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──────── I N F O R M A T I O N ────────

Name: Margarethe Fransson Nickname: Greta Species: Human Age: 12 Birthday: July 27th, 2008

Blood Status: Pureblood School: Durmstrang Year: Third Home: Flåm, Norway Nationality: Norwegian

──────── A C T I V I T I E S ────────

1| Is your character a Broom Racer?: NO
2| Is your character a Quidditch Player?: NO
3| Is your character a Duelist? YES

──────── S T A T I S T I C S ────────

Sta | 4

Str | 1

Eva | 9

Wis | 9

Arc | 8

Acc | 10

──────── A B I L I T I E S ────────

Calming Presence [Accepted] — An aura of calm. Allies (defined at the START of an instance regardless of later betrayal) gain a 10% chance to auto-hit their chosen target. This does not stack.		Reducio Rationale Calm. Collected. Reserved. Children ought to be seen, but not heard. This was the way of child rearing for some time, and a sentiment still held by many a family, pureblood or otherwise. Strictly speaking, Greta's family did not quite hold tight to such a notion. Theirs was a relatively small and nuclear family with a proud, but modest living. A living that they were required to work to maintain. Her Greta's father had his breeding and husbandry, while her mother continued to master and expand her craft with wand-making. These were trades that would, in theory, be someday passed down to the Fransson children. In order to do so successfully, however, it meant that early rearing into the businesses would be required, alongside the careful cultivation of discipline and an appreciation for toil. This was more easily achieved with Greta, the younger of their two children, helped in no small amount by the fact that she had chosen to refrain from attending muggle school in the nearby town in favour of receiving an education provided by her parents that they tailored towards their family businesses and the wizarding traditions that had held to for so many years. That Greta took to their teachings and allowed herself to be moulded and crafted to their preference, so readily doing as she was told and ultimately playing the part of an ideal daughter instilled within her parents a great deal of comfort. In her, at least, they could rest assured that the wand-making — as that was the task to which she gravitated with more keen interest than the tending of the magical animals — would carry on in their line. Greta's demure and reliable nature went beyond her dedication to her role within the structure of home and family. Although it was no doubt an irritation at times for Hanzo, the fact that she took such an interest in his life and whereabouts was a comfort to their parents. Especially given his attendance at the muggle school, they couldn't watch over him the way they could Greta. Nor were they generally inclined to wander into the town proper more than necessary. Given her tendency to accompany him to and from his place of study, however, she could — and often did — serve the bridge between them, reporting to their parents his whereabouts and level of well-being, while also passively acting to curb any wild tendencies that might have arisen due to her incessant — nearly to the point of obsessive — need to be with him. More importantly, Greta always had Hanzo's back. Quiet and shy she might be, but she was every ounce of her a capable witch in her own right. Elusive, agile, collected and capable, she could support him in a duel if ever it came down to it. Plus, having grown up with him, she possessed an uncanny ability to read her brother's intent, able to react accordingly in an instant without the need for lengthy discussion. She dedicated herself to her studies at Durmstrang, proving herself to be a quick study with spells, and an above-average mage with wicked aim. And even on the pitch, the team could always rely on her to net them a few goals. She was reliable. All those who knew her well and she considered within her circle could rest assured that her presence, regardless of the situation, would contribute positively. Word Count: 566
Perfectionist I [New] — You have a reduced critical failure chance range by 1. In addition, you can counter up to 1 point of additional critical failure chances caused by abilities or spells (not potions).		Reducio Rationale Excellence. Superiority. Consistency in everything. Concepts hardly foreign to many households, they held especially true within that of the Fransson's. Pureblood and proud, there was little room for any sign of weakness. As the yougner of the two Fransson children, Greta lived perpetually in the shadow of her elder brother and felt this keenly. This year, she had taken one step to differentiate herself. Or, perhaps the better explanation would be that where Hanzo had taken one, she had not. Or at least... hadn't intended to. Where Hanzo had drifted from his position as chaser and captain of the Durmstrang Quidditch team, Greta had meant to remain on the team. Influenced in part by her success on the pitch against Hogwarts, as well as her desire to remain playing alongside her friend, Ella, Greta had fought the urge to pad after Hanzo as he drifted towards duelling. Despite this, Greta's attention had drifted towards duelling in some capacity. There was little doubt that she could execute in the air upon a broom. Her presence as a chaser had been a commanding one, earning herself many a praising word, and even an admirer or two. But after the camp, there had been one event that had stuck with her, eating away at her self-confidence: the team-based duelling chess game. This was only furthered by parental pressure, which would ultimately prove the stronger. Quidditch was hardly a suitable pursuit when she was expected to invest in the family business of wand making. They were a family bound to the wand, not the broom. Although her performance had hardly been something to evoke a snide remark, neither had it been particularly impressive. For days afterwards, she had dwelled on the fact that, under pressure, her spells had failed her nearly as often as they had succeeded. As a student from a prodigious combat-oriented school, this had sat poorly with her indeed. She was the progeny of a wand-maker. Poor casting performance would never do. What was worse, her mother had somehow caught wind of her embarrassing performance, and the sight of her lips pursed in disapproval had nearly sundered the young girl's heart in twain. As a result, for the remainder of the summer, Greta had devoted herself to independent study, determined to make of herself a more worthy duellist. By the time school had started yet again, not only had she succeeded in drastically improving the consistency of her spell-casting, rarely failing a spell now; she had also gained better command of her wand. Unless circumstances were out of her control, it no longer back-fired against her. Something for which she was more than a little glad for all the balm and wrappings she had requested of her father in secret whenever her wand would act up in temperamental practice in her overzealous practice. She would do her parents proud. Or strive to at least. As unimposing as she was, all she could do would be to minimise her ineptitude. To practice those things she was capable of honing to perfection. Word Count: 510

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Notes:

• 41 Skill Points used || +1 from Quidditch win [Gryff vs. Slyth 2020]

APPROVED
Papertrail for stats:

+ 5 for Graduation -

Sta | 4
Str | 1
Eva | 9
Wis | 5 + 4 = 9
Arc | 7 + 1 = 8
Acc | 10

DURMSTRANG iNPC UPDATE

Name: Margarethe Fransson | Durmstrang | 3rd Year
Club Activity: Duellist
Current Abilities: Calming Presence, Perfectionist I
Statistics:
Sta | 4
Str | 1
Eva | 9
Wis | 9
Arc | 10
Acc | 10

Note: 43 Skill Points total used to match Evelynn (+2 to Arc [8 + 2 = 10])