I understand that it is an requirement for a list of character synopsis to be posted. My sincere apologies there, but I personally loath making character synopsis; it just feels fake to confine characters into outlining descriptions (especially when I don't know how to write them). :p Ultimately, it's what's in the game that matters rather than what's written here - The playable content's there, it'd be better for both sides for one to respond to what is actually in the game. Same with the story.
None the less, I will try to compromise story-wise by including this little (perhaps badly written :p) excerpt from years ago; an intro of the unfinished literary form of the project. While this scene was not directly implemented in the actual game, every event that caused it and its aftermath is still present in the RPG implementation, as well as its core story.
1327, 3rd month, day 5
Second hour and seventeen minutes past midnight
The vase met the ground with a loud clash as the young man rushed by. With trembling hands, he reached under his grass-sewn bed sheet and retrieved a notebook, a quill pen and a bottle of clear oily liquid. Dampening the quill in the bottle, he flipped to the blank page, fleetly trotting down the words as sweat dripped down from his forehead onto the tawny pages.1327, Month 3, day 5
I knew something was out of place, but not like this...
And if this is so, then where is the real her? And even worse, what if she. . .
What does it mean? No, I cannot state this here, for it is not safe.
But it is still her. If not the real her, she's been her for some time now... And nothing has yet happened. Perhaps I still have time.
Perhaps, just perhaps, I still have a chance.
He took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off his forehead. After redampening his quill in the crude bottle, he signed briefly at the bottom of the page as the rough handwriting above gradually faded into the thin air.
Somewhat relieved that he has gotten it out of his head, he sighed and carefully placed the notepad, quill and ink back under the bed sheet.
The exhausted figure pushed himself up and darted through the opening of the leathery tent. He paused and stared into the calm night abyss for a moment, only to hear the wind whistling through the trebled leaves. Dim, silvery moonlight sprayed upon the rustling branches, brushing gently against the thin, autumn night's air. With another sigh he began to saunter silently onward, but the sound of soft footsteps upon the grass made him stop in his track and turn around.
Turn around to face the familiar figure that was now a stranger.
"Why are you still up at this nightly hour?" The figure spoke softly, with a tone that Reivier had embraced countless times. "Do you not wish to have a restful sleep?" It added after a brief pause.
Reivier's brows lowered as he took a small step back. His trembling hand instinctively reached behind his belt for his hunting knife, but it was too late.
Under the cloaking shadows, the figure swiftly lashed out something colorless, yet shimmered in the reflection of the guiding moonlight. Powders, perhaps.
But that was the last thing he saw.[/color]