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Name: Byron "Boodley" Del Mar

Age: 58

Sex: M

Byron, or "Boodley" as he's known in every tavern between here and the moons, is a Bard and a necromancer. He invest very strongly in the drink but his metabolism is an anomaly amongst humans the more he drinks the sharper his mind becomes and the more power he has, but the Elite four see this as a sign of major weakness and continually refuse him his purple robe.

Boodley's robe color is Blue (Sorry Sam it fit better for the character), he has the raw power but can only harness it while drinking preventing him from ever getting his purple robe. Boodley has been training as a necromancer for about 40 years now and is quite proficient, If he could ever harness his powers while not under the influence he could honestly be one of the more powerful necromancers in the world

Boodley's last name "del Mar" was given to him for his specific specialty in necromancy. He is proficient at raising creatures of the sea. For this reason cargo ships are always willing to hire him and pay for his drink in order to protect them from pirates at sea. Boodley only takes the jobs for one reason. Leviathan. He swears that he raised Leviathan from the gates of hell's ocean once but he can't prove it for he was the only one to survive the storm which claimed the lives of his ship's crew. (Incidently he DID raise Leviathan that one time causing his ship's eminent demise)

Boodley is a Bard he'll believe in anything if the story will fetch him enough gold for his drinks. Boodley's specialty is in the legend of the Golden Robes and people line up to hear it again and again.

Ryen opened her eyes and examined Rico for a moment foggily, before breaking out into a grin. "Well you know," she joked back, putting her worries out of her mind, "If they truly knew all the consequences, we'd all be out of a job."

Stretching a little, she studied Rico more intently, finally meeting his eyes. "How goes the hunt?" she asked flippantly, although there was a slight edge to her voice. Ryen knew how important finding Nimue was to the widower, but part of her worries over it. Obsession was never a good thing in this line of work.

Not that she could say anything. Everyone knew she was a fanatic when it came to the legend of the Golden Robe, despite the fact she rarely spoke of it. She had no right to lecture anyone on the vices of obsession. Yet, even knowing she was a hypocrite she couldn't help but worry. Nimue was dangerous. She'd never met the hellspawn, but you quickly learned all the demons in this profession, especially the more powerful ones.

Rico’s eyes narrowed at her question. Really, it wasn’t any shock that anyone around he would know, but then again he had become friendly with Ryen. “No good. Its appearance’s are becoming few and random, so all together it’s hard to track.” He didn’t even bother calling Nimue a woman, for it was a demon, a horrible demon that didn’t deserve the title of a lady. “And while many people are happy that Nimue and its master aren’t appearing much lately, I believe that their absence only means plotting and ruin for many.” He shrugged, for he didn’t know for sure, you never knew with demons, and his sources tended to be from this region and this region only, so they could be plaguing another land for awhile without his knowing.

He had looked away as he spoke earlier, though now his gaze returned to her, and with a grin. “Well then, we should be thankful that those who hire us don’t know everything, or such a talented necromancer such as yourself wouldn’t be here...” He was going to continue speaking, though there was a high-pitched scream from one of the higher floors. With a tilt of his head he looked to the ceiling. He’d never experienced bad feeling from those he resurrected, though he’d heard of and seen events where people felt the emotions of a murder or a suicide. It sounded horrible.

Ryen waved her hand dismissively, suddenly remembering her glove and pulling it on. "It's one of the students," she said boredly, "the screaming's getting quite annoying." Noticing Rico's inquisitive look she shrugged. "My specialty's resurrecting old emotions," she explained, "the teachers pulled me in for a consult. I put in a request for a special meeting with the kid, but so far they've denied me. You know," she waggled her now hidden fingers at him with a wry grin.

"People know more than we give them credit for," she said, still with that weird grin. "And yet are still so amazingly ignorant."

He nodded to Ryen before Miles entered the room. He glanced over to the boy, listening to his words and the tone he used, and with a grin he stood and bower his head to Ryen. “My apologies, but I think I’d like to check up on the girl.” He was very in-tune with women, knowing how they think and what made them tick, even with they didn’t, and perhaps with a little help the girl with cease her pains, even if Ryen with her special knowledge in the region could not. He wasn’t bound by the same rules, or at least not in his eyes.

He bowed his head in acknowledgement to Miles, and with a bright smile left the room. His gaze drifted, for he still was quite uneasy with where to go in this place to get where. “Maybe…” of course, he never paid that much attention to where he was going in the first place, for his mind either lingered elsewhere, or on the first floor. Eventually though he made his way to the classroom, and it wasn’t hard for there was a small group of people outside the door chattering about it. “Excuse me ladies.” He flashed them a smile as he slipped by them and into the room, just following another person. “Dear girl, I’ve come to save you from the torture you call misery and pain.” He spoke loudly, not knowing who he was speaking to.

"That's good" Miles told her. "Then I won't keep you any longer" he nodded at her and went straight in his office.

He cautiously looked out of his windows, then shut his blinds when he knew it was safe. He then unrolled a dead flower in a black cloth and laid it on his desk.

He lit a simple summoning circle, concentrated on the past life force energies and tried to return the flower to its perfect, natural state. He opened his eyes, pleased to see that the flower had been revived, but also grew a nasty, twisting thorn that shouldn't have been there since this particular type of flower, the daisy, didn't naturally have thorns.

Miles angirly picked the flower up, and pricked himself on the thorn. Blood rushed out of the finger and stained the black cloth. "Oh s**t" he exclaimed, and begun sucking his finger dry.

Miles pressed some buttons on his answering machine and spoke into the receiver. "Ryen, I would like to speak with you in my office please. Cancel your appointment if you have to."

Miles cleared his throat. "I would just like to tell you that what you doing is very noble and courageous and brillant and wonderful." He then put his head down, and looked Ryen straight in the eye.

"However, I think it's ultimately a lie. Who are we kidding, trying to coax the ressurcted back in the society. They will always be freaks and outcasts, and they don't even have any cool super powers to make up for it. As cruel and judgemental people are, I'm said to say, they're also right. It's just a disaster."

Miles took a deep breath and sighed again. "However, all hope is not lost. I think maybe, we could build our own little...village, for the ressurected, where they would be away from other people who just refuse to understand."

Miles chuckled nervousy at Ryen. "No, I'm not saying that at all... I'm just trying to be more realistic, grandfather says that's something I need to work on."

Miles sighed than straightened out his tie. "While your heart is in the right place, I need to see more results. If you don't integrate at least three more ressurected people in society by the end of the week I'll have no choice but to proceed with my plans further."

((so sorry for taking this long to post!))