Tabby
Derpsichord
----- Illyasviel Malzahar -----
----- The Imperial Hammer -----
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
----- The Imperial Hammer -----
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Vitals
Name: Illyasviel Malzahar.
Title: The Imperial Hammer.
Race: Human.
Physical Age: Physically, about twenty. Chronologically, closer to thirty - the magic she calls on slows her aging, but does not stop it.
Gender: Female.
Sexuality: Technically, heterosexual. Realistically, insert joke about frigidity here; she's not looking for an intimate relationship.
Posting Colors: #002366
Theme:
Appearance
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 60 kg (~130lbs)
Hair Color: A dark blue that changes hues slightly depending on the light and viewing angle.
Eye Color: Blue within blue - iris, cornea, and sclera alike dyed the same shade of cerulean; a direct result of the unnatural magic that she channels through her body.
Notable Characteristics & Distinguishing Marks: A network of arcane sigils course across her skin, manifestations of the seal that originally granted her power - a reminder that she is more a creature of magic than alive anymore, and part of the reason she tends to wear clothing that covers most of her body.
Description: Unarmed and unarmored, Illya looks almost fragile on the battlefield, a crystalline sculpture that could be broken so very easily. She is neither particularly tall - bordering on a touch below average height - nor bulky; the Imperial Hammer is slender almost to the point of malnourishment. There is a diamond-hard glint to her eyes, though, something in her curiously noble posture, her refined movements that each speak of power, that belies her physical appearance, hinting at her true nature. Forged in the nightmarish apocalypse that tore her kingdom apart, changed by magic that would have rent her asunder in a heartbeat were it not for her indomitable willpower, Illyasviel Malzahar emanates absolute control and frigid power, wearing them as though they were mightier than the heaviest armor. She moves with purpose, speaks with purpose, unwilling to back down from challenge. Given what she has survived, what is one more meager test?
Her blunt tones ring with absolute and unapologetic sincerity; freed of the intrigue and doublespeak of the court, Illya believes only in absolute meritocracy, reveling in the change to prove herself more than just a delicate princess or unnecessary backup in case of disaster. She holds herself to excellence and her fellow Generals to the same standard, never with the taste of ambiguity, ever questioning and curious.
Personal
Opinion on the Overlord: Illyasviel joined his army solely to protect her order, but over time came to trust and respect the Overlord for what he was, rather than merely as a path to fulfill her own goals. While her ability to explain her thoughts on the matter is muddled, the truth is simple; she loves the Overlord for what he helped her become, an affection unsullied by lust or expectations, only a desire to honor and repay him. She would have thought that her immediate reaction upon revival would have been to return to her kingdom, but instead found herself more focused on finding him once more; she is a bit fuzzy on whether that translates to betraying everything she once stood for or just living up to her word, and ponders her dilemma silently.
Opinion of the Generals: They served the overlord - that is enough for her to show respect regardless of personal foibles. Generally. While quietly disapproving of those that openly flaunt his sovereignty, she can understand all too well the importance of responsibilities elsewhere and will not interfere with the extracurricular activities of other generals so long as they do not blatantly stand in the way of the Overlord's return or her other goal.
This is not to say that she actually gets along with the entire menagerie.
Illyasviel exists in a mild state of fond exasperation with a few generals and various less-fond varieties of exasperation with the rest, tolerating the vast majority but rare to include others in her plans. She is entirely capable of working with any of them on matters relevant to the return of the Overlord or general survival, but holds little loyalty to those she does not have an actual relationship with.
She definitely has a relationship with Nar'tae Lak, the Catalyst; it is unfortunate that their relationship revolves solely around pissing each other off. Illya was the General who ended up recruiting the other and they have known each other since, forced to work together on a couple assignments despite wildly varying approaches to everything - each drives the other spare just by existing. Still, this is actually one of the closest-to-positive relationships Illyasviel possesses, and while she would prefer to gargle flaming razor blades than admit it, she holds a certain degree of grudging respect for the other woman - one that she vaguely hopes is reciprocated, but doesn't really know how to broach the issue. While they argued relentlessly as Generals, the events in the cathedral have forced Illya to re-examine a relationship that she understands even less now.
Opinion on Friendships: They aren't exactly her specialty, but she is cautiously receptive to the concept. Being that Illya is terrible at actually broaching the subject and thoroughly used to relationships being social constructs for power, she tends to be unconsciously critical of the possibility, but vulnerable to influence in that direction. Completely coincidentally, this is also the easiest way to catch her off guard or influence her, though she struggles to hide that fact.
Opinion on Relationships: Okay. Seriously. She was raised as a ruler, then a battle-nun, then a walking fountain of magic. She never got a lot of practice with this, and "a lot" translates to "any at all" in this particular case. Illya generally avoids the subject as gracefully as possible, or at least stares stonily at people who breach the issue until they sod off. While vaguely uncomfortable on the matter, she also just doesn't really see the point when there are more interesting things to be done.
Opinion on Races: Her life before ascension took place in a world comprised of only humans; she regards other races with amused curiosity, still fascinated by how varied the world really is. Illya knows smatterings of numerous racial customs as a result of her curiosity leading to some research, and generally tries to be courteous regardless of race. Still hasn't decided whether Tieflings are fellow victims or a touch creepy, but is pragmatic enough to judge them individually... based primarily on how much they bug her.
Education: Highly literate and fairly well educated in the basics of most academic fields, but an expert on both conceptual magic and sealing techniques. She took to her job as a general like a fish to water; what grasp of tactics and strategy she had already learned were honed to excellence over the years as she led the Overlord's armies to constant victory. Illyasviel is a superlative tactician, albeit one without an army... for now.
Motivation: Her primary motivation is to return her country to former glory. Her other primary motivation is to restore the Overlord to his former glory. Illya is not entirely certain how to reconcile the two; her oath to serve the overlord did not have a time limit on it, and she didn't expect to actually come to see the Overlord as a man worth following at the outset of her gamble. She hides her inner turmoil on the subject as best she can, trying to find a way to accomplish both goals.
History
Upbringing: Illyasviel Malzahar was born heir to the throne, princess of a mortal kingdom that has long since been lost to history. Countless eyes upon her, endless expectations heaped upon her slender shoulders, she was forced to mature beyond her years; milestones in her development were met not by celebration but a weary acceptance that the floodgates would only open further. She did not begrudge her responsibilities or life, pragmatism and realism alike hammered into her from the start, but neither did she complain when she was deemed unnecessary for the time being; neither king nor queen seemed to be in any hurry to die, and deciding that the fiery intelligence and vivacious spirit that burned within her lent themselves to other fields of study in the interim, she was sent far from the hustle of the court to widen her horizons.
In this case, that meant that she was delivered posthaste to the care of the kingdom's premiere religious order, the Adepta Sororitas. The difference was almost disappointingly miniscule; the expectations of her teachers continued to verge on the limit of her abilities, but it was here that Illyasviel discovered her voracious appetite for reading, for knowledge in all its forms; more than existing solely for the spiritual enlightenment of the masses, her order catalogued and libraried events past and present, delved into magics elder and conceptual, and honed its members into something more, mentally and physically, even as it limited individuality.
She learned very quickly that jokes regarding "battle-nuns" were perceived poorly by her superiors.
Most Important Event: Her life might very well have devolved into rote repetition of reading and practicing until whenever she was next needed to make an appearance at the court had not the war raging across the planes found her world, sundering peace and normality in a single day. An immense daemonic juggernaut tore through the fabric of reality to enter the material realm, laying waste to the kingdom's feeble defenses and standing army with contemptuous ease, leaving nothing behind but a frozen wasteland, a tundra marred with blotches of crimson, fields of broken weapons, and entire villages entombed in permafrost.
Even as the court dissolved into panic and finger-pointing, of blaming each other for the arrival of the demon lord, even talk of fleeing or surrender, the men and women of Granorg's armies sacrificed their lives to drive back the coming storm, to hold each fortress as long as possible in the face of the demon lord's crystalline armies. They died in droves, slaughtered to the last man in each disastrous engagement, but they bought time for a response - it was only through the unyielding discipline and proud loyalty of her armies that Granorg did not fall within a fortnight. The Adepta Sororitas was not idle amid the spreading nightmare; the Sisters who knew the art of war were hurled into the fray to die alongside their fellow soldiers, and die they did - but their sacrifices helped stave off the inevitable as well, leaving the magi of the order to pore through their ancient tomes, their vast stocks of hidden and even forbidden knowledge... and begin to weave a terrible spell.
It had rapidly become exceedingly clear that martial might could not begin to halt the endless tide of terror, nor did the offensive magic of the battle-sisters prove effective against the demon lord, but there were those in the order who saw opportunity in disaster, who grasped the unbelievable potential in the power they faced. Terrified and intrigued in equal parts, Illyasviel nevertheless saw a chance to preserve a part of the world she had known; she threw herself into the work they all shared with fervor, determined to be of use to her kingdom as a Sister and a sorceress even if it had never really needed her as a princess.
The night they finally unleashed the seal will be burned into her mind until the end of time; the vast cathedral in which the circle appeared; the raw force of magic in the air as they prepared to unleash forces far beyond any of their understanding; standing by her sisters while the rampant power slew them, flensing flesh from bone and evaporating entire bodies as light spilled from the tiniest cracks in the seal. It was her first experience with power great enough to shatter reality and fantasy alike.
They sacrificed much of the remainder of the kingdom to save it; the backlash of the ancient magic completely vaporized vast areas of Granorg even as the icy titan's final vindictive eruption of power entombed the entire capital in black ice, but two years of blood, the cost paid a thousand times over by the kingdom's now-forgotten armies, was payment enough. Knowing that they could never hope to actually destroy an enemy so far beyond their ken, the Adepta Sororitas entombed the demon within a prison of light and sound, an immense seal cunningly designed to feed off the creature's energy even as he raged and howled against the world.
Granorg was reduced to a festering wasteland of frozen blood and twisted spires of jagged ice, torn from the mortal planes entirely by the years of occult warfare and the final vast detonation of energy, but for the mere few dozen exhausted and battered Sisters who had survived of the thousands that had congregated the night before, as they slowly made their way out of the battered cathedral into the light outside, it was the first morning they could remember over which blessed silence reigned.
Before Immortality: The war was over, but the remaining sisters found that new challenges awaited them. Their order was no more, its Abesses and Prioresses alike slain by the magic that had saved the remainder, and the survivors quickly found that actually harnessing the demon's power was somewhat more complex than they had prepared for; the seal was vast and powerful, but so was its captive; no mortal magic could constrain him for long. The Adeptus Sororitas transformed overnight from a religious order into the keepers of power they could neither control nor understand, desperate to keep the beast imprisoned lest he break free and finish his dire work, inevitably moving on to other kingdoms, other worlds, to repeat the process anew. That, each of the survivors knew to the core of their being that they could not allow - not after so much sacrifice, so many lives lost.
Desperate to preserve the seal, the remaining Sisters gave their bodies and hearts to the task - only to find that that was exactly what had been necessary. They realized the dreams of power dreamed of by the deceased schemers of the order, becoming living avatars of the demon's power; in using themselves as conduits they provided the necessary ground to prevent a catastrophic buildup of magical energy, possessed of nightmarish eldritch might that - even purged of the demon's hatred and anger - threatened to consume them nonetheless. Illyasviel and her sisters found that they had won only the first battle of a much longer war: a war with themselves, their very natures and continued existence as the power threatened to warp and twist them. It was no longer merely the ruined kingdom for which they fought, but their own lives.
The broken order rebuilt as best they could, some scavenging the frozen wastes for supplies and mortal survivors even as others pored through what remained of their libraries for an answer. Survivors and solutions alike proved difficult to find, but their wills alone proved enough; frozen in time, with nothing but each other and their captive, the Adepta Sororitas tamed the overwhelming flow of essence, transforming a curse into a blessing through sheer stubbornness.
Then the Overlord came.
He would undo their life's work, destroy the demon permanently. For all their work, the Sisters could barely keep their new essence from tearing them apart, much less unleash it with any semblance of control. Worse, breaking the seal would simply erase the remnants of Granorg from existence; so much power was held within it, raw magic coursing through the intricate designs of the seal and essence siphoned from the demon, that releasing it would be far beyond apocalyptic to the battered shard of reality. It was ironic that the very being that had destroyed their lives now provided the essence that held it together, but they were far beyond irony.
Illyasviel betrayed her order in order to protect it. Unwilling to watch Granorg die a second death, she offered the imposing figure a deal; tame the demon's power, tame her, and leave her sisters to their lives. She would follow him eternally in return for him staying his hand, pour her heart, her body, her soul into serving him and realizing his dreams, and in return he would help her find a way to save her country.
He required only one of the three as an offering to his tower.
As a General: Illyasviel hurled herself into her new work with vigor, enraptured by the idea of actually putting to good use some of the skills she had spent her life acquiring. She quickly proved herself a competent general, even for a General; her grasp of strategy and tactics alike was couched primarily in lore rather than personal experience, but she was flexible and eager to put theory into use. The Overlord found worth in her on the lines of battle rather than as a diplomat or a saboteur, and the former princess made it clear in short order that she deserved that trust, earning her title as the Imperial Hammer over a series of viciously brilliant campaigns as she learned to control both her magic and her newfound immortality.
She quickly found her place on the battlefield as a living siege weapon; Illya herself provided the weak points for her armies to capitalize on, the lynchpin of the tactics that she became famous for. She left festering hellscapes of blood-soaked ice in her wake, a tinge of vicious bitterness reminding her of her homeland. It was a vastly different life than what she had become accustomed to, or the life she had led before the Sororitas; the expectations she could deal with, but the freedom of behavior and thought were new to her. Etiquette and nobility fell to the wayside as she expanded her frontiers; her burgeoning absolute bluntness helped further her title towards literal rather than figurative and caused occasional issues with other Generals, but it also proved occasionally useful in recruiting new Generals; every so often the Overlord would, with wisdom she quickly learned not to question despite never quite understanding it, send her on "recruiting drives" that inevitably tended to end is bloodbaths... and usually a new General or two. Illya stopped wondering how the hell that worked in short order.
Your Defeat: Illyasviel died in the Cathedral, an ornately decorated, nondenominational church erected for Generals who still held religious beliefs... those that did not interfere with serving the Overlord. While Illya had long since renounced religion, reasoning that if the Adepta Sororitas's faith had been based on reality their deity would have saved them, she had spent enough of her life in religious settings that the generally-empty nave of the building seemed almost familiar, a safe harbor against the sea of confusion and strife that covered the world. Between missions she often spent hours sitting alone on one of the pews, occasionally joined in silent vigilance or - rarely - quiet conversation by one of the legitimately religious Generals coming to pay their respects to their own deity.
In the wake of the Overlord's disappearance, during the rare free time she had between helping organize the Tower's various defensive forces, Illya spent much of her time in quiet thought, struggling to find a solution or inner peace, even going so far as to break into the prayers she had memorized so long ago. She was there when Nar'Tae arrived to fetch her for defense against the sudden invasion, and it was there that they were both ambushed by those very invading forces, following hot on the impromptu messenger's heels.
Enraged by the desecration of her last remaining sanctum, Illyasviel laid into the intruders with everything she could muster, tearing through their forces as though she embodied the very being from which she now drew her power. Freakish spires of ice and roiling maelstroms of jagged shards rent flesh and armor alike, joined as the battle grew more desperate by colossal conglomerations of ice that cratered the earth on impact. Fury overcame the stony facade she so often hid behind, dulling pain and reason alike; Illya realized that she was doing more to destroy her last remaining sanctum than to save it.
She also realized that, for once, she was not fighting for a thing, a place, a concept, but for someone - herself. Nar'Tae, as well, though she didn't care to ponder that particular realization in too much depth; even as much as they had fought in the past, as awkwardly antagonistic as their relationship had been, here they were fighting to keep themselves and each other alive. Even as her rage consumed her, Illya was vaguely aware of the curious synergy she had brushed off before, of how, when push came to shove, they could actually work together. Her fellow general ducked and weaved through the nightmarish symphony of destruction, riding a spire here, tearing off a Thorn there and impaling half a dozen mortals on it. It was oddly natural and humbling alike.
Illyasviel never actually saw the one responsible for her death. Struck from behind, nearly her entire chest disintegrated by the force of the blow, the world dissolved into white within seconds of the colossal icy pillar impaling her.
It had been a long journey, from a remote human kingdom to a world of eternal ice, devastated by a demon lord, to serving another lord, an Overlord. She had gone from dutiful child to a desperate Sister sacrificing her world to save it, and from there to a jailer, then an avatar. Time and time again she had sacrificed what was dear to her to protect what remained of it, given up everything else for the benefit of people who were no longer even alive to appreciate it. She regretted none of it, but-
-Perhaps fighting for herself wasn't the worst way to go out after all of that.
Equipment
Personal Mementos: An ornate ceremonial dagger with the approximate value in combat of a blueberry muffin. It is entirely unnecessary for her magic, but it has been at her side throughout the grand sealing that imprisoned the ice demon, served as a focus when she was trying to tame her powers, and now acts as a silent reminder of what she has survived. She is extremely possessive of it.
Weapons: Illya does not use physical weapons, and indeed is not trained in their use beyond a hobby of fencing and some familiarity with polearms. The dagger she carries on her could be mistaken to be a weapon, but she does not use it for combat in any shape or form.
Armor/Clothes: Illyasviel still wears the vestments of her Order with quiet pride, complete with the sapphire-tinted tiara on her brow that marked her position. While warm and well-fitted, her garb does not itself provide any actual protection. In combat, however, her magic congeals around her enough to blunt the force of blows, sapping kinetic energy from objects as they chill. The effect only lasts as long as the offending objects is near her, and - being magical - does not usually cause permanent damage. Realistically, this offers her protection roughly on par with very tough leather armor; it performs well against blunt trauma and slashing damage, but offers inferior protection against piercing damage.
Other Items to Note: N/A. She travels light.
Quest Items: (To be filled in by Storyteller)
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