#jamine

🗡️Throwing darts and throwing knives ⏩Quick reflexes is how you survive   ⚔Training scars as a mark of pride 🥃Drinking whiskey to be sophisticated 😏Your sarcasm knows no bounds

He isssss (he's my type btw)

Jamine Nanders

Age: 62

Birthday: Nelamus 31, 2953

Race: Half Elf

Nationality: Eswaili

Birthplace: Siron County Hospital

Profession: Clergy Guard

Past Professions:

Education: Sirel Academy as a young child, Masmiam Training Academy

Languages Spoken: Efrian, Eswaili, Bûrdæn

Height/Weight: 5’6 / 130lbs

Physical Appearance Notes: stick straight blonde hair that does not reach her shoulders, amber eyes

Tattoos: Nidtrin tattoos on both her right bicep and forearm, do not yet connect through the elbow

Scars: Knife scar on right cheek

Gender/Orientation: Female / Lesbian

Deity/Alignment: Nidtrix / Neutral Evil

Magic Status and Aura: Passable pyromancer and astrapimancer

Family: Jamine does not remember her family as Nidtrins are raised either with foster parents or within the system to keep familial ties to a minimum while forcing them to accept their fellow guards and clergy as their family

Hobbies: Darts, archery, drinking

Anissa left the Repentance Room and let the passive face drop, replacing it with a sour scowl. Jamine, who had been casually leaning up against the wall in the hallway, straightened and matched Anissa’s pace.

“I despise being embarrassed,” Anissa said, tucking dark locks behind her ears. She turned down a different hallway, making for the Temple’s exit.

This Temple was so impermanent. The structure was simplistic and the construction was rushed compared to what a real Temple should be. But it had been the only space Berthingtonn had allowed. Some Priestess higher up had decided more effort should be put into the Temple inside the Wall, as soon as they got the permits.

“What did the High Priestess have to say to you after she dismissed me?” Jamine asked.

“How I shouldn’t embarrass our Lady in another Temple, basically,” Anissa scoffed. “I don’t understand everyone’s insistence that bars are Seamus Finn Temples.” She rolled her eyes.

“Technically, only the good bars are Temples,” Jamine shrugged. “So what are we going to do?”