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Fantasy Dark Omens (CS)

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Enkerzed

Enkerzed

Dusty Wanderer
CHARACTERS

IMPORTANT:

Please do not post your cs here unless it has been approved. Send it to me in a private message first.

You may only create ONE character to start with. Over time, I will allow you to create more.

You may create any number of named NPCs that only you and I will be able to control, though as author you hold creative authority and I would need to seek your approval before being able to control their actions throughout the roleplay. You may also request edits to any post I write where you feel my handling of your named NPC(s) has been less than satisfactory.

Named NPC's may possibly be upgraded to full characters, whose actions are strictly yours to control and off-limits to anyone (including me) without express permission for certain posts, but the decision to upgrade an NPC will ultimately require my approval.

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Name:

Nickname(s): (Optional)

Appearance: [PICTURE] (Future version optional)

Description: (Height, weight, skin colour, hair colour, etc. in any format you like)

Gender:

Age:

Personality:

Background:

Aspect: [Warrior | Mage | Trickster]

Abilities: (refer here)
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Equipment: (spoiler tags if using any pictures)
Extra: (Optional)


Approved Characters​

Key: [Author] ~ [Character] ([Aspect])
​
Enkerzed Enkerzed ~ Dunan Bram (Trickster)
Epiphany Epiphany ~ Aymeline Weaver (Mage)
SilverFeathers SilverFeathers ~ Althea Isa Lunerf (Trickster)
Kharmin Kharmin ~ Marie-Louise Durand (Warrior)
Severinus Severinus ~ Olivoyr Riodan (Trickster)
xrakkax xrakkax ~ Julian Hunter (Warrior)
Lekiel Lekiel ~ Solandis Elmereth Winterstrom (Warrior)
 
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Name: Dunan Bram

Nickname(s): Wolf Eyes

Appearance:
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Past and future​


Description:
Golden eyes, brown hair that will turn black in the future, 5'8 height and a lean build.

Gender: Male

Age: 18

Personality:
Sullen, reserved and aloof, Dunan was ever a callow youth who resented not only bearing the blood of the Trickster, but also the world's treatment of his like. As such he kept his distance from other people, fearing how they would react if they learned of his power, and wanted nothing more than to be left to his own devices. A lonely existence that was much more preferable to the scorn of the mob he had seen many times before.

Over time however, he would eventually mellow out and though still a quiet figure who mostly kept his thoughts to himself, he became much more warm and compassionate. Having fought side by side with the greatest heroes through some of the worst battles humanity had ever seen, using his powers for the sake of others rather than his own survival, Dunan is now driven by purpose and is no longer ashamed of his blood. The path has been long however and not something that his former self would easily comprehend, if ever.

Background:
Born to a family of horse ranchers, Dunan's power became immediately apparent when he simply fell out of his mother at birth. Since then, he had been taught to keep his ability a secret and to never show it in front of strangers, for fear of the consequences that might follow. He did not need to be reminded however, for at the age of 7, he witnessed a man being run out of town for bearing the blood of the Trickster and at the age of 12, he had seen the lynching of a thief who had the power of invisibility, caught whilst attempting to steal a horse from his father's ranch.

With the vigilantism of the townspeople reaching a fever pitch, Dunan was moved to the city of Liotra as soon as possible where his father had found work for him as a stable boy and there he remained until the age of 18, mucking stalls and tending to horses until the day when everything changed.

After the assassination of the king and the fall of Liotra in the wars that followed, Dunan's life became that of survival. Like all other refugees, he had to fight and steal just to have enough food to eat. It was in this way that he learned to master his power as well as developing new abilities along the way and when he was finally caught, he was brought before the nearest Champion for judgement, a warrior, who sentenced Dunan not to death or exile, but recruited him as an apprentice in the ways of combat so that he too might become a protector of humanity.

Though cowardly at first, the more battles he survived and the more foes he felled with his own hands, the more confidence Dunan gained until he could fight alongside the very best among the Champions of Gaia. It would not be long before he was counted among them and became known as 'Wolf Eyes', the trickster with the heart of a warrior. More importantly to Dunan however, he had earned the respect of his peers and for the first time in his life, he felt valued. That he mattered and from this point on, their mission was now his as well.

Even as the Warrior Guardian fell in battle and humanity was pushed to the brink of extinction, Dunan was among the first to volunteer himself for the Magician's final gambit. Not because of some high minded ideal of self-sacrifice or saving the world, but for the people at his side he had fought together with for so long who had given meaning to his life.

Aspect: Trickster

Abilities:
  • Intangibility: Dunan's particular manner of birth was a surprise to all involved, so it's not so surprising that being able to phase through objects since the moment he was born has become as second-nature as breathing, though only ever for brief periods of time.

Equipment:
  • Dagger
Extra:
 
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Name: Aymeline Weaver

Nickname(s):

Description: 5'7, 130 lbs, freckled tanned skin with dark brown hair, pale eyes and a face that looks like it's never smiled. She travels in an sleeveless shirt tucked into sturdy jeans over leather boots. Aymeline wears a long tan duster for protection from the elements, along with a wide-brimmed hat.

Gender: Female

Age: 22

Personality: In the past, Aymeline was an adventurous rancher out on the frontier with a deep abiding dislike for Liotra, eventually growing into hatred. Once the wars began, she became a ruthless, merciless crusader against the soldiers who were a symbol of the Frontier's oppression. By the end of those wars, she was almost as much a monster as the actual monsters the Trickster brought between worlds. Fighting a hopeless battle for humanity's survival went a long way towards redeeming her and she was inspired by the heroism of people she'd only known as distant persecutors.

Now, she finds herself once more in a life so removed from who she'd become that it was nearly incomprehensible. Aymeline's lost her bitterness, for the most part, and sees Liotra and its people with new eyes. Her greatest challenge in this new life is to embrace who she'd become at the end instead of falling back into the patterns a decade of endless war had engraved on her soul. She's steadier than she was, more capable of laughter and enjoying rare moments of beauty, now that she knows how rare they are. Yet her determination to change the fate of the world remains as imperishable as the mountains.

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Background: The King of Liotra was never her king. Aymeline grew up on the Veriteri Frontier, far enough west of Liotra to miss the kingdom's infrastructure but not far enough to evade its tax collectors. Her parents were ranchers and horse breeders, and her early years were spent in the wilderness, learning the land and protecting the family stock. Things with Liotra grew tense by the time she reached her teen years, as more and more locals in the small villages and towns settled on the Frontier demanded more independence from a king too distant for anyone to know. Like the rest of her people, Aymeline shared their perception that Liotra took what it wanted and gave nothing back.

Her power manifested at a young age but it was only after the assassination of the king that she began to use it in earnest. Liotra seemed to use the king's death as an excuse for madness and its armies seized control of everything they could. When her parents protested, soldiers put them down. It was then Aymeline became a rebel and by the time Liotra fell in the subsequent wars, she'd become all too good at killing. She wielded the Gift of the Magician but it was the Trickster who smiled upon the peoples of the Veriteri Frontier, only he and his Champions that fed valuable intelligence to the rebels, allowing them to sabotage armies, bring ruin to fields of crops and engage in all manner of killing.

Aymeline's powers had grown until she wielded the storm, the stream and searing flame in equal measures to bring death to her enemies, whether they be men, women or even children. Years of asymmetrical tactics and absolute savagery finally buckled the remaining kingdoms and their armies. And she stood over the crumbling warriors, determined to finish them all.

Yet before the Free Peoples of Veriteri could celebrate their victory, the Trickster betrayed them, bringing new armies of ancient horrors to fall upon all the living everywhere. Within a year, every single person she'd ever known in Veriteri perished. Within a year after that, Aymeline found herself standing shoulder to shoulder with the Champions of Gaia, fighting alongside scores of warriors she'd spent years trying to kill. Their example, their courage and the purity of their cause left Aymeline humbled by their sacrifices and driven to follow their example.

Only, at the very end, the Magician himself gave them an alternative. A way into the past, to undo everything that'd been done. Eagerly, Aymeline embraced it...

...Only to step into the shoes of the young woman she'd been, before the wars, before all the blood on her hands. This time, she knew the Trickster's plan. At least a small part of it. This time, there would never be the hardened terrorist. There would be only a young woman sworn to save the life of the king she detested, for she knew how much worse the world would get without him.

Aspect: Magician

Abilities:
  • Rock Barrage: Thanks to a lifetime spent fending off predators from her cattle, Aymeline's a remarkably good shot with magically accelerated stone but her stamina's far short of what it would someday become.
  • Flood: Around the time she turned 20, Aymeline discerned how to draw water out of the ground and divert streams for watering cattle. In the future, she was able to drown villages. In this time period, though, her ability functions slowly enough to only be a danger to someone who couldn't just walk away.
Equipment:
  • A utility knife.
  • Her horse, Tanaya, along with a saddle and saddle bags carrying a small tent and sundry travel items.
Extra:
 
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Althea Isa Lunerf | Phantom Mask​

  • Name: Althea Isa Lunerf

    Nickname(s): Thea, Phantom Mask

    Description: Altheas most noticable or appealing feature is her face, with her gentle doe-like grey-green eyes that always seem to be smiling and her small pointed nose. Other than that however, she doesn't stand out. She stands slightly taller than the average female at 5'6, with a relatively slender but unexpectedly sturdy build. Her early life as a tavern waitress has given her a healthy skin colour, looking every bit the hard-working peasant. Her hair is a soft golden shade, which falls down to her waist in waves if let down.

    In her hardened years of being a spy, assassin and infiltrator in the future, her hair lost its natural glow and became a dull pale colour. Her noticeable eyes, having long been blinded, had faded in luster, additionally almost constantly being covered by her characteristic mask. Overall, she had become much more of a warrior than an unassuming peasant.

    Gender: Female

    Age: 19
 
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Name: Marie-Louise Durand

Nickname(s): She has no formal nickname, but will answer to Marie. She prefers her full name, though.

Description:
5'10" 155# tanned skin, dirty blonde hair, azure eyes
Marie-Louise stands slightly taller than her peers from her village. Her lithe form is filled out with toned muscles from training as a warrior. Her skin is tanned from spending most of her time outside in the elements. Azure eyes dance in compliment to her straight, dirty blonde hair that falls to her shoulders. In later years, her hair is bleached more blonde by the sun and she allowed it to grow longer.

Gender: Female

Age: 20 (past)

Personality:
Marie-Louise is passionate and driven. When her mind is focused, there is little to dissuade her from her course. She empathizes with those who were most adversely affected by the Fall and has made it her life's pursuit in saving as many people as she is able to save, regardless of their station in life. She has a loving heart and is easy to befriend as she oft times sees the best in others even if they are unable to see it in themselves. Marie-Louise enjoys happy times and can be quite playful given the right opportunity. She is a sucker for honey and deems it as a delicacy.

Background:
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The Durand family lived in the countryside well to the west of the capital of Liotra in a rural town called Cadron. Jean, the patriarch of the family, worked as a carpenter and helped to build, repair and maintain the structures of the town proper. His wife, Gabrielle, managed the home and their three children: Marie-Louise, Léon and Thérèse.

The eldest of the three, Marie-Louise was forced to learn how to fight in order to protect her siblings from the local bullies. She gave as well as she got and she never backed down from a fight no matter the odds -- her brother and sister were her responsibility which she took to heart. Often, she would return home with bruises that she viewed as her own, personal badges of honor, much to the dismay of her parents. When she turned 16, she discovered her ability to flow around her opponents to evade their attacks, and then deliver her strikes with accuracy. Soon after, with more focus and practice, Marie-Louise learned how to increase her movement such that she could seemingly blink from one place to another. As a result, she became one whom the younger children would call on for help or protection and soon the meaner kids learned to steer well away from Marie-Louise.

Jean's work had been noticed by a passing minor noble who hired him to engineer and build some structures at his complex in Liotra. At seventeen, Marie-Louise and her family moved to the city. Three years later came the assassination and fall. Marie-Louise used every bit of her ability to protect her family from the chaos that ensued, but against overwhelming numbers Marie-Louise succumbed to fatigue and her own injuries.

She woke to find some of her family dead and others missing. With strength of resolve, Marie-Louise picked her battered and bruised form from the ground and began the arduous process of survival. She was discovered by a small pack of refugees and secreted away to a safe house where she recuperated and learned more of the land's demise.

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Over the next decade, Marie-Louise honed her fighting skills and focused her resolve on saving whomever she could from the new life that had fallen upon them all. With her fighting skill, and flow talent, Marie-Louise worked tirelessly to bring refugees to safer places where others could care for them while she returned to the world's chaos to find more, innocent victims in need of rescue.

Her efforts were not in vain as she was noticed and then offered a position with the Champions of Gaia for her strong heart and drive to set things right. Her fighting skills improved in dramatic fashion. She became a wrecking force on the battlefield and gained stature high above many other warriors for her valiant deeds.

But Marie-Louise's talents and skills were no match for the forces that were brought to bear. When the Warrior fell, their army crumbled and scattered even as she strove to continue the fight in his honor. With no opponents immediately around her, Marie-Louise fell in exhaustion. Covered in wounds and on the verge of losing her life as the last of her blood poured from her many cuts, she was offered a last-gasp gambit to be launched back in time with the hope of preventing the assassination and the fall before it happened.

Marie-Louise volunteered without hesitation. If she could return to a time and stop the death and destruction that had come to pass, and save her family, then she would do so with every last drop of blood in her body.


Aspect: Warrior

Abilities:
Flow: Almost like having second-sight, Marie-Louise is able to focus and weave through combat as if her adversaries (and allies) are stuck in some kind of temporal slowness.
Dash: Marie-Louise can pass from one point to another at almost the blink of an eye.

Equipment: None


Extra:
Father Jean Durand (dead in future)
Mother Gabrielle (missing in future)
Brother Léon Durand (dead in future)
Sister Thérèse (missing in future)
 
Name: Olivoyr Riodan

Nickname(s): "Raven"

Appearance:
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Description:
6 feet (1,80 m), 75 kg (later more after gaining muscle), fair skin, black hair (and beard later)

Olivoyr stands approximately 6 feet tall and is an athletic young man who had spent most of his young life outdoors. Only in his later years in the army did he turn from a lanky youth into a sinewy, yet muscular man. While his skin is quite pale, years of spending time constantly outdoors had turned it sun-burnt and leathery in his later years. His hair and later his beard is as black as a raven's feather, earning him his nickname "Raven" along with his shapeshifting ability.

Gender: Male

Age: 17 | 27

Personality:
Olivoyr is of an introverted nature, as he had spent more time alone in the woods than among human beings. Once he got to know and became accepted by the scouts of the king's army, he started to be a bit more outgoing. More and more often he would sit down, laugh and chat with those he had come to know well enough.
Having been brought up with a very strict and simple clear moral code, he feels guilty when harming humans and tries to avoid cheating, deceiving or killing other humans as much as possible, unless "the greater good" outweighs the harm done to a single person. Because he lived his youth very secluded, he had a very naive, sometimes black and white perspective on things, declaring actions as either good or bad, particularly in his youth. Only when he had started to take actions of deception himself, had he learned to accept shades of grey in between the black and white of his morality.
Having grown up in a loving family, he had been instilled with compassion and helping out one another as a basic essence of life. Protecting his family has always been his main driving force which after his sister's death had been tinged more with despair than his original light-hearted attitude that all would end well, as he went with his sister.
Calm, patient, quiet and a keen observer he is a reliable person who suffers greatly from the distrust and hatred people typically show him, when hearing about his Trickster gift.

Background:
Olivoyr was born as the third child of the game keeper of the hunting estate of a noble from Liotra. His mother was the herb collector and healer of the nearby village of peasants. Thus, Olivoyr had grown up close to nature, accompanying his father, when taking care of forest or wounded game, or his mother to collect herbs, mushrooms or edible roots.
His parents united two lineages without being aware of their heritage. When his older sister Lourayley showed signs of the Magician's gift, the noble man his father served had intervened to get her to start her training and become a mage in personal service of the king. His parents had been extremely proud and hope another child would show a gift.
As Olivoyr had shown his ability at the age of 3 changing his shape into that of their hunting dog, running around barking, his parents had been scared to no end. Realizing that he bore the Trickster's instead of the Magician's gift, as they had hoped, they feared that their son would turn into a villain. Thus, they kept him in the woods, away from people and made sure to instill a deep sense of morality in him through stories and scoldings.
He never used his gift to turn into another human being in his youth after the first time, when he pulled a prank on his parents. Taking the form of his sister for a few minutes telling invented stories of the city, before he turned back into himself laughing, had gone quite wrong and ended his mother deeply saddened and his father more angry than ever before. Later, the boy had spent hours of being scolded and told that it was deeply wrong to trick people in such a way.
Thus, his specialty became changing into animals, as they were 'allowed'. After the hunting dog, his favorite shape became that of a raven which matched his hair color and made even his siblings call him "Raven" at times.
The only time when he was allowed to leave the estate was once per year on the king's celebration of coronation, a national holiday, when the whole family traveled to Liotra to meet his sister in mage training.

History last time around:
The news of the king's death had taken a few days to reach the game keeper's house in the woods. Not anyone, but his own sister Lourayley in the attire of a royal mage had brought the news and turned to Olivoyr after comforting their crying parents with a serious expression. "Unrests have broken out everywhere in the kingdom and we need every able-bodied man or woman to protect it", she had started seriously in the stiff wordings she had learned in her Mage school. Her younger brother stared at her questioningly. "What's this to do with me?" Sighing at his lack of insight, as she always had, when they were still children, and he asked questions about things he did not know or understand, she spelled it out in her same exalted wording: "Our older brother will stay to protect father and mother, his fiance and his inheritance - he will be the next game keeper after father, in case you did not realize that." As he grimaced at her sarcastic tone, she changed her and turned to more urgent and pleading: "Don't you realize that you have nothing here but the woods and its beasts, Oli? Do you really want to hide here forever like a wounded deer afraid to come out." Biting his lips, he shook his head. "B...but I do not know anything or anyone out there", he countered timidly.
Pushing her fists against her hips she straightened up and looked him in the eyes: "You know me after all! I vouched for you to be a good man in spite of your gift by the trickster! Join me in protecting the kingdom!" As she became more enthusiastic with the propaganda instilled in her in the king's army, her words started to sound more and more like what her instructors had taught her before recruitment. "You can become our eyes and ears in the woods, fields, steppes, in the cities and castles out there", she sounded like the enthusiastic girl he had known, when she learned that she would become a Mage for the king.
Knowing no other argument, he repeated his mother's words he had heard so many times. "Using this gift to trick and harm people is evil." Lourayley grabbed him by his arms now: "It is only evil, if you use it against good people. But if you help us, help me, your sister, you will use your gift for the sake of good!" As she realized that he was still hesitating, she added the final straw with one last well-placed insult: "Will you hide like a coward, Raven, or will you join me to protect our home?"
In spite of his internal conflict, he had joined her in the end. After all, he had never won an argument against his smart sister in his life and probably never would.
At first, Olivoyr had to earn the trust of his army comrades by only performing explorations and scouting missions in the wilderness without real importance or risk should he betray them. But soon his ground and bird's eye surveillance reports surpassed anything they had before. He could tell the number of enemy troops counting from above as well as their equipment. Even days behind he could smell as a dog whether people were injured when camping or identify certain individuals in the rebel forces whose smell he had come across before.
Once he helped identify a spy in their ranks who had taken the shape of a horse. Although the shape was perfect the horse spy not behaved naturally for a horse, as she was too intent on standing near the command tent without even pretense of grazing. From this, Olivoyr learned that the changing of shape was not enough - the change of demeanor was most relevant to complete the trick and not be found out. Thus, he studied animals and their natural behaviour more intently than before to be able to mimic it perfectly.
As the wars continued, his skills in deception improved until he finally would also reluctantly take the shape of humans to infiltrate enemy camps for gathering information, sabotage or freeing prisoners. Olivoyr always felt most guilty after such missions and would withdraw far outside the camp to pray for forgiveness, holding the wood carved pendant his mother had originally made for him.
Fate seemed to protect him for his faith, as the camp was raided at one such time, when he had left the camp and distanced himself. By the time he realized the raid and had made his way there, the dragon and ogres had already destroyed most of the tents. Armed monstrosities and more horrible creatures had swept among the soldiers like a wave of death and killed half the regiment. Some of them were chewing on corpses, as the young scout arrived.
But in spite of the horrors one corpse shocked him more than anything else - his sister's. At first, he was too petrified by shock to believe his eyes. Someone shook his shoulder, shouted in his ear, until he finally returned to reality.
After fleeing with the survivors, soon the king's army and former rebels he had fought joined forces in fighting the hordes the Trickster had unleashed on humanity. In every fight, he would always bear his sister's memory and start with the cry: "For Lourayley!" into battle.
When all had seemed lost and he had stood with the Champions of Gaia to hear the Magician's proposal, his heart had leapt in joy - going back and changing the past could not only save the king, the kingdom, humanity as a whole, but most importantly Lourayley could be saved. This was worth anything to him and he would gladly take any risk to save her.

Aspect: Trickster

Abilities: Shapeshifting

Equipment:
sturdy outdoors clothing including a hooded cloak, light leather boots and a linen jerkin
Hunting Bow, quiver with arrows, hunting knife, hand sickle
a belt pouch with fishing hook, fire stone, tinderbox, whetstone

Extras:
- Lourayley Riodan (past 20): Olivoyr's older sister is a head-strong and idealistic young woman. After her talents gifted by the Magician were discovered, she was elected and trained as a royal Mage from the age of 11. Despite spending most of her time away from her family, she keeps a close bond to her family, especially her younger brother. Unlike Olivoyr's parents who distrust their own son to a certain degree, always fearing that he might stray from the path of good and righteousness, his sister loves him unconditionally and has always been the family member he felt closes to. Olivoyr loves her more than his own life and would gladly risk anything to keep his sister alive now that he has a second chance to do so.

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- Jareyn Riodan (past 24): Olivoyr's older brother is the well-behaved son of his parents. Although jealous of his younger sister's talents as a boy, he turns to telling himself how lucky he is to be spared any "blessings", once he observes the sufferings of his younger brother. His goal in life is to follow in his father's foot steps and inherit the game keeper's job and lodge where he wants to settle down with his fiance and future bride Maryone to take care of his parents in their old age, as a good son would.
- Leanne and Jieffry Riodan (past 45, 48): Olivoyr's mother and father are simple folk from the country, a village herbalist and a game keeper in service of a noble man. Only three of their 5 children survived beyond the age of 3 years: Jareyn, Lourayley and Olivoyr.
 
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Julian Hunter​

  • Name: Julian Hunter

    Description: Six foot five inches. He has a mesomorphic build, toned muscles, and fair skin. Light brown hair, grey-blue eyes.

    Gender: Male

    Age: 25

    Personality:
    Julian exemplifies a light, pleasant manner. At least he believes so! 'Stubborn' is a harsher word for what he would call 'perseverance'. A trait he realizes is unavoidable in his family. While he does do his best to keep calm like his mother, and level headed like his father, sometimes the fire of his heritage gets the better of him. Julian rather dust the dirt off his shoulder and keep looking for the light at the end of the tunnel than fall into the dredges of sadness and despair. He feels a natural pull to socializing and does his best to be honest with whom ever he spends time. Julian can get grumpy too. He just tries his best not to.

 
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[div class=headerleft]Solandis Of The Golden Bow
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[div class=tri]
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Fullname: Solandis Elmereth Winterstrom
Nicknames/Titles: The Golden Bow, Sol, Em (close)
Gender: Female
Age: 24 (Young)

[/div]
[div class=headermain]Appearance

With simmering amber eyes and long cascading locks, golden as the wheatfields before harvest, Solandis stands at a solid 5 feet and 11 inches. Her blonde hair is usually kept fettered away from her face in a lose ponytail. Her facial features are refined, yet delicate, lending a softer edge to what might otherwise be an austere look. A light dusting of freckles peppered across her nose and cheeks. She posseses a lithe solid athletic build, toned as any country girl whose father worked the forge and whose latter years was spent in the guardswatch.

[OLD] More weathered face, platinum hair with a few locks of blonde.

[div class=headermain]Personality[/div]
Solandis is as enigmatically vocal, as a silvery brook trickling through the forests on a bright spring morning. Carefree as a summer breeze and playfully coy as a fox's pup. And when she converses, she devotes raptured attention to the one who captures her moment of discourse. Nonetheless, she has been unwittingly insensitive to the darker, but sometimes necessary, emotions especially during her younger years. A fault which she has learned to refine as she grew older.

Even into adulthood, she retains a refreshing precociousness for any new sight and experience, often intrigued by even the simplest of things. Once naively optimistic, time has tempered her positivity into one of more subdued propitiousness. She now exudes a calm boldness belied by the fires of determination in her eyes and the heartening contralto whispers of her resolute voice.

But as the years wore on, and the harrows of a thousand battles wore on her, once blonde hair would starken into subdued platinum, though several strands stubbornly retain their golden hue. But be that as it may, with each weary battle, a new line of bitter scars would be etched on once smooth alabaster skin, and the lines of crow's feet would wisen at the edges of her eyes, the simmering aureate fire of determination that kindled in her amber orbs would refuse to be snuffed. And with each stirring battle cry, she would carry the mantle of her Paragon upon her beaten back, even if he could do so no more.

[div class=headermain]History[/div]
TLDR: An abandoned orphan girl finds her true calling in defending all of humankind.

Heulfryn Winterstrom was a mastersmith just past his prime, once a weathered adventurer, he now spent much of his time tending his respectable forge in the city of Liotra. His crafts were exquisite and well crafted. He made many a tool for the people of the city. So much so, that when a budding Atheling who wished to earn the support of the villagers in his care commissioned the mastersmith, Heulfryn firmly accepted. After all, it was for his home village of Halvords Dale. A place he visited once a month without fail, to pay respects to the grave of his long lost wife. Halvords Dale was named after a legendary ranger who protected the village over a century ago from a horde of fel creatures, armed with nothing but his bow and unparalleled skill. A golden statue was erected in the village square, in honour of his sacrifice. It had been worn by time and so the Lord thought it a good time to refurbish the landmark. Heulfryn was tasked to craft a new bow of worked metal for the statue. It was ceremonial, but the smith saw no spirit in crafting a mere ornament. So he poured the sweat on his brow to craft a bow that would work as any, even if it was too tough to be wielded and would sit in no hand but a stone's.

He toiled for long and without relent until finally it was done. He brought his craft to the village, and they celebrated the gift. His task done, Heulfryn quietly took his leave on that afternoon, solemnly making his way to the edge of town and to an old graveyard. To beloved Elmereth he came back. But just as he stepped through the rusted gates, an unexpected sound teased at his ears. Nay it was not the wail of spirits, but as he drew closer, he recognized the distress of a babe! With pounding heart through aged veins, he swiftly made his way towards the cry. Then there, just by his beloved wife's grave, was a bundle wrapped in cloths and in it was a baby. He immediately reached for the youngling on instinct, carefully picking her up with a puzzled frown. Then he heard a rustle of leaves and immediately craned his neck, spying a fleeting shadow. Babe in arms, he rushed back out the compound at the sound but found no one. Far away by the treeline perhaps, he thought he spied a silhouette. But it was not possible, his eyes surely jested with him. For there was an open field of score yards and he would've surely seen the dashing figure. He called to the skies, but there was no answer, except for the cries of the child at his breast.

That was how Solandis met her father and landed in his care.

Solandis. Delicate flower. Named after the lush Solandeas, a bright yellow bloom with red speckles that grew native to Halvords Dale. He also gave her his beloved's name, Elmereth. For he thought her a blessing from beyond the grave.

The young girl received all the love a gruff aging father could muster, and it was much. He packed his forge in Liotra, and shifted back to the Dale where he worked his trade. During the days when he worked, young Solandis was sent to the Temple of Gaia where she was educated and spent time with the other children. It was here where her little heart would prove how big it was. From the onset, Solandis proved very protective of her peers. Willingly standing up to bullies, fearlessly taking on the larger children even if it meant getting bruised and cut. Heulfryn was a hard man, but when he found out of his daughter's deeds he could not be any prouder.

"Come." He would speak to a young Solandis one day, offering out a little bow and blade of wood before she was even a decade old. Obediently she followed and he taught her to hunt and later, fend for herself. If she would help others, she might as well know how to help herself.

But she had her own fair share of learning curves. An irate priestess would one day march up to the grizzled smith, Solandis in tow. She'd complain how lately the young girl had become lazy and irresponsible of her tasks. Brows furrowed with displeasure, Heulfryn took his daughter home and sat her down. This was not like her, he questioned. At first, the girl would not answer. But as he persisted, she timidly relented.

"Papa... you told me to always help others in need!" She recited one of the many morals he'd ingrained in her big heart.

"That I did-" He'd reply, but before he could continue a clearly distressed Solandis would emphatically explain how she saw the priestess beating the other children for not completing their tasks. She could not bear to see their pain and so, she'd offered to help them finish their work day-after-day. Her own work was left half-completed and so she took the brunt of the priestess' ire.

"But that's alright. I can take it." She'd add unawares to her father's bewildered face.

Oh my... she surely had the heart, but still had much to learn!

Halvords Dale stood on the outskirts of the kingdom's territory, and as such had some measure of guardsmen to watch over the village lest an attack should occur. And as surely as the rains would fall, the attacks do come, but always the defenders would repel them with a resounding victory. But it was not long after Solandis' fourteenth birthday that the town's defences would be tested to its limit.

"Stay inside." Her father bade her, as he stood with the other last line defenders at the village square. Just as before, the tide of wretched creatures crushed against the militia and they repelled them with weathered ease. That was until the armoured ogre joined the fray. With each mighty swing, the defences crumbled like snapped twigs and for once in a long time, the villagers of Halvords Dale wailed in terror.

Heulfryn was a great warrior and he turned to charge the rampaging ogre axe and shield in hand. But alas, his age had tempered his blows and though he dodged each heavy swipe, each retaliating strike broke no ground on the monster's beastly hide and armour. Woe befell the regal smith, as in his exhaustion he was finally brought down. The ogre roared in victory, curling an arm for a final upwards strike at the fallen warrior. He saw his life flashing before his eyes, then a defiant scream broke through his trance.

"PAPA!" It was his Solandis. Grabbing a shield from a fallen warrior, she ran out to him.

"SOLANDIS NO-!" He cried in desperation, but he was too late. The diminutive girl charged between her father and the fatal strike. There was dreadful crunch of crumpling metal as the strike hit both father and daughter, sending the latter flying several feet through the air to land in a tumbled heap at the middle of the square.

One of his arms was shattered, but Heulfryn was very much alive thanks to his daughter's sacrifice. Eyes brimming with tears and rage he pounded a fist on the beaten ground as he gazed upon the unmoving form of his daughter. Wrought with blinding grief, he grabbed his axe and charged at the foul beast. Hacking and slashing with a berserkers rage. The old warrior staggered the monster and seemed on the verge of victory until he caught a blow that sent him to the ground again. Bleeding profusely, he struggled to stand, roaring with defiance against his mortal enemy even to the last moment. But just as the ogre stepped to finish him off, there was a resounding twang as a streak of gold blazed unerringly past his head. Then he stared in shock as a golden missile impaled the ogre with such force that its chest exploded in a spray of blood and broken bone. The fel creature was dead even before it slammed into the ground.

"By Gaia..." It was all Heulfryn could manage as he turned around just in time to watch his daughter collapse to the ground, the golden bow of Halvord in her grasp.

"Solandis!" He rushed to her side, and despite his shattered bones, cradled her unconscious form close to him. Tears of relief trickled down his bloodied face as he smoothened her fair face, cut and horribly bruised though otherwise, miraculously unharmed.

It was that day, that he knew the blood of a god flowed through her veins. She'd taken a blow that would've crushed any man and still lived. Then with astonishing strength, she had wrenched the golden bow from the statue's grasp and even had the strength to draw and fire the metal alloyed bow. No doubt the force of such a powerful weapon was enough to fell the ogre in one strike. They had saved the village.

full
For her astonishing feat, they named her the Maiden of the Golden Bow and allowed her to keep it; despite that, she would not be able to fire it again until years later. In her moment of purest emotion, she had drawn on the power of her blood.

Solandis grew up into every bit the woman Heulfryn hoped his daughter would be. Dedicated, responsible and most of all... kind. She would eventually join the military forces of Liotra and the other champions, doing their best to maintain the peace during the unrests. She was determined in her training, somehow believing that if she was stronger, she could try to subdue her opponents without the need for killing. The kindness of her heart almost always prevailed, and it was rare that she would take her blade or arrow to a fellow human unless absolutely necessary.

Nevertheless, all was not to be when the King was assassinated and the lands were plunged into the ravenous fires of civil war. A staunch believer in upholding her principles, her resolve was tested most severely in the heat of battle, but not in the face of an overwhelming foe but in the crimson stains that marked her worn gauntlets. She remembered the very first time her patrol was ambushed by what the soldiers branded as fervid terrorists. Savages who sought nothing but anarchy and ruin of their beloved Kingdom. To see the crazed glint of bloodshot eyes in someone no different than the farmer she had greeted the day before, charging out of the hills and forests swinging makeshift weapons, it shook the guardswoman to her core.

She wasn't so naive that she would think all humans were not capable of darkness. But a farmer seething with pent up rage at the injustices wrought upon them by the hands which she'd served unswervingly... this was no murderer or rapist. This was a mere farmer who thought her his mortal enemy. In his eyes, their... no, her hands had grieved him so deeply that he was driven to seek out nothing but her ruin; nothing short of death would stop him. A madness had overcome him. It happened in a scant of the moment, a moment long enough for the trained soldier to take action. But she was frozen in the face of the incomprehensible.

In her moment of hesitance, she murdered two people.

The first was her fellow compatriot and friend, who would've lived had she acted. She watched in horror as her surprised companion let out a horrific gurgle, his skull cracked under the blow of a spiked cudgel as he crumpled to the ground. She felt a cold stab of darkest black pierce her bowels in that instant and an unbearable pressure gripped her thoughts. It was a moment which she would remember forever. Something in her snapped, and she reacted as the crazed assailant turned his weapon on Solandis. He never got a chance.

The dead eyes of her closest friend haunted her. Frozen in innocent surprise. She screamed in anguish as she drew her blade and in one single motion, cleaved the farmer in half.

Solandis remembered the aftermath of that battle. She would remember it in bouts of cold sweat and harrowed nightmares, waking up in the middle of the night to retch and vomit out her last meal. For every time she shut her eyes, she would see their glass-eyed gazes. Accusing. Judging. She had sinned against her goddess. Betrayed her Lord. It grew increasingly bad with each battle. The screams of the dying became the chirps of the crickets. Blood became the flower dyes which she once used to paint her eyes. The sounds of the Morningcrow, replaced by the blare of a warhorn. It was all a daze. She could not sleep. Crouched on skinned knees as she prayed in maddened ramblings for the forgiveness that would not come from a silent deity.

She nearly broke. Would've, if she hadn't been a coward. Deserting her battalion one night, she took her meagre belongings and ran home to Halvords Dale.

Heulfryn saw the ghosts that haunted his daughter in her eyes and accepted her wretched form back with open arms. Held her every night and day as she heaved her stomach juices until there was nothing left.

"Papa.... I-I'm s-sorry..." Solandis said one day, numb enough from the pain to finally speak. She needn't have said, he already knew. Knew how she could mend.

Halvords Dale was lucky to be spared the fires of war. It's people content enough not to rebel. But they quickly saw the effects of the raging battles. Droves of refugees passed by each day, many in need of aid. He took his daughter to one of the many makeshift camps one morning with the intention of seeing how the forge could help. Her mood had been sullen for weeks, lacrymose and on the verge of depression. But it changed rapidly upon seeing the unfortunate. It was not long before she disappeared from his side, only to be found tending to the wounds of the injured. Solandis had begun to live again.

Soon, both father and daughter headed out into the heat of battle though this time, with shields aloft and swords sheathed. Calm and centred, the erstwhile soldier would bring up the rear protecting those caught in the crossfires. And should any stray too close, they would feel the flat of a blade. A heavy smack and stern hawkish gaze were often enough to deter many, and if that proved insufficient, the immovable warrior would use her fists. Together, both father and daughter made quite a name for themselves. She, by the gleaming bow that was only ever slung over her back. A powerful weapon of destruction became a symbol of hope.

But soon, the darker undercurrents of a cataclysmic celestial war would rear its ugly head. It came in the form of blood-lusting fel beasts, charging out of the fog towards their victims only to be cut down by the glint of steel or crushing bash of an immovable shield. The first time Solandis fought them, she hadn't realized she had unsheathed her blade and cut the wretched beast down. The blood of the divine within her had stirred, and she reacted on instinct. It was a righteous fury, and she knew she would spare no quarter.

Before long, an emissary was sent out calling for all champions of Gaia to meet against the wretched nightmares that surged out of the vilest pits of hell. Solandis knew it was her time once again. She answered the call and with her father's blessing, she left once more to protect the land she loved. It was the last time she saw the old smith. They were valiant in the efforts, but ultimately the champions of light fought a losing war.

At their direst moments, she swiftly took up the Magician's final gambit, offering herself to save all that she held dear. Maybe this time, she could at least bid her father farewell.

[div class=headermain]Calling[/div]
Aspect: Warrior

Skills:
Harden: Attacks bounce harmlessly off your flesh as you tense your body and become like a pillar of iron.

Might: Use your strength to its fullest extent, such that you may bend steel or lift a boulder with ease.

Swordsmanship

Archery

[div class=headermain]Equipment[/div]
Dawnsinger - An exquisitely crafted bow made of a steel and gold alloy. Smithed by her late father, it was his last masterpiece. It is so tough that only one with great strength and unwavering aim can fire it. Can be loaded with full metal arrows.

Trollsbane - A well-made sword that her father found during one of his adventures.

A sturdy kiteshield

A simple hunting knife and various other travelling tools.

[div class=headermain]Extra[/div]
Theme:

Likes: Listening to musical instruments, dances, Solandea flowers (reminds her of the home she lost), cabbage stew.

Weakness: Terrible alcohol tolerance.

[div class=headermain]
✤ ✤ ✤​
[/div]

[div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]

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