Post by Elysia on Sept 5, 2012 12:54:18 GMT -5
Player Title:
Full Birth Name: Elysia, daughter of Barri
Alias/ nickname: Lady Dune, Desert Hunter
Race: Angel [Clan: Rashieka, former Ka’rath]
Gender:Female
Age: 330
Physical Appearance:
The daughter dunes and mist is one you would instinctively differ from rest. Her bright blonde hair falls over shoulders, framing a fair face with wavy tresses accenting the dangerous beauty. It is a dark color compared to gold among humans that matches the wings. The base of wings are a brown gold that varies to a much lighter shade until the last row of feathers which are snow white. The transition from gold to white would resemble one found with the bird of prey they call Bald Eagle. She stands at 5’8’’ an athletic form usual for most Angel women, a flowing figure that testifies of agility. Multicolored iris contains a shifting combination of almond, emerald crowned with a yellow circle around pupils. Her gaze is piercing as predators, appearing to be capable to see through you, yellow circle adding to the luring yet intimidating eyes.
Around each forearm she has a ring of kill or glory or power marks as they call them, 50 small lines on each forming a shackle shape. Thos were earned within the day she made an offer of 100 deaths. The rest of tattoos are placed starting from the Ka’rath sign down the spine so close to each other they seem as a complex line. This is a deception of Elysia’s passionate and rebellious nature to fool into thinking she was but a child in war. Those clever enough new lines were added over each other and that the strange intertwining as if it was a living plant made in order to make space for more.
Personality Traits:
*Confident
*Perfectionist
*Passionate
*Cunning
*Vicious
Weaponry:
The armor consists of a chainmail of thousands of scales, small metal pieces joined to a flexible chest armor that allows more mobility beside protection. The scales become wider in a thicker pattern from sides to mid-chest becoming just as good shield as a regular one. The rest of the armor and all together look could be compared to a Greek styled one. The greaves that protect her legs are slightly darker than rest of this gold piece. These items were awarded after one of her successful missions by the Rashieka. It was deliberately given in that particular coloration that would make the earned name, Lady of Dune’s apparent.
Crescent Desert Blade
Weapon formally used by Arden, mother of Elysia. This is her most prized position and only item she took aside the Triangle with her when leaving Ka’rath. Unique among warriors it is also recognizable, blade connected to her and one she fought with in the arena.
Approximately 56” overall/4 lbs.
www.wle.com//products/w080.html
Chained Whip
The nine section chain whip is a flexible weapon which is easily concealed. Consisting of nine metal segments linked together, and with a cushioned grip handle to prevent slipping,.
Approximately 70 inches in length.
www.quizilla.com/user_images/S/ShinjitsuNoShi/1097705374_whip.jpg
Ka’rath Triangle
An exceptional weapon that may be used as both dagger in combat or throwing blade. It has the ability to return to its owner after cutting if used properly. This also represents the symbol of Ka’rath that is tattooed on the back of Elysia’s neck so those who creep behind know it is a hunter they sneak upon. It is a mark she has received after killing Barri, accepted as one of clan. Defiantly and as her own small revenge she had altered the mark adding the middle carved line that signs first kill.
www.wle.com/media/FM-410.jpg
Twin Kama’s
www.blade-empire.com/Martial_Arts....ade_Kamas.shtml
The Hunters Case
Under the chainmail there is a belt that contains several compartments of tubes and containers. Some are filled with special poisons, anti-dotes and some with cures, ointments. These are used in hunting whether it is a beast or foe, sometimes placed on weapons. Most used poison paralyzes but leaving nerves active to feel pain
Extras:
EXTRAS TEXT HERE(Optional)
History Summary:
In the distant lands of the Angelic Empire, the very sand they say those who killed the creators walked, a woman prepared to welcome her first born to the world. It was a time of many conquests in a corner to remote to be known where head of the clan of Ka’rath the Hunters and beast trainers resided. Tall man of long ash wings rushed to the temporary tents made to hastily to give comfort to his wife. His scared face wrinkled of age and hot desert air…yes age. Barri was not among the young for centuries now even though his spouse was. The proud man stood at the entrance observing as the healer that crouched by the make-shift bed took a crumbled bloody sheet. His firm expression added a frown as the old woman stood up and walked to the Grand Huntsman. For a moment he stood silently, eyes indifferent and observant. Healer extended her arms to the Ka’rath . Hazel eye dropped to the shifting fabric dripping in blood as small palms appeared and voice. Eyebrow fell to a point that could be defined as anger while thin dry lips curled to speak. Immediately the woman cut him off…
“Daughter of Ka’rath” the sour voice stated pushing the wrapped child to his chest. “Arden, the mother has not survived.”
Desert winds started to pick up pulling the material and playing with the cloth of the doorway as he stared. No emotion or sadness within for it was the way of the Angels. Instead of that wrath filled him, this was not a son he wished to replace the many who died in passing centuries. Instead a daughter, youngest of three and of his latest, now dead wife. Perhaps in that moment as he looked at the child for the first time faith was decided. Barri simply shook off a sign of hand to remove her from his sight.
“Take her to Masseya, my eldest daughter…”
“She is still with no name” the elder slave stopped his exit. It was tradition to give a suiting name upon the child’s first breath. In his turn he threw a glance back, ignoring the small lump embraced. Lightning lit outside while his hand held the material up ready to go out to the hunt they all came here for.
“Elysia”
Childhood was one usual for the tribe she was born into. Or at least most of it… Elysia was treated differently from her crib, always ignored by the man she called father. It was a shame she never could forgive. Not because of lack of emotions, even children learned quickly those were useless weaknesses. That man denied her from the start, refusing to train the girl of defiant and piercing eyes. First steps in art of hunting were stolen from hours of observing her three elder siblings. Still under the influence of their father and Head Hunter Masseya, Atanya and Tarra refused to introduce her to the skills of their clan, shunning the girl as a common being and not member of superior winged race. Insult of the guild she never will forget. The others were older, more experienced but as time went on Elysia improved. Barri still refused to allow participating in the mastery of taming or hunts, giving meaningless assignments to low for the level of developing skill. Bright eyes rebelled but kept quiet…no…it still wasn’t the right time to go against him. She knew challenging him was not an option, no matter how much fingers itched on drawing the blades and slitting his throat open. With change of seasons the rising power of the youngest daughter couldn’t be ignored. Barri was old enough to know what would come for disregarding her farther and because of it instructed Masseya and Atanya to teach her taming and tracking. Briefly… it was enough. Elysia took whatever offered, studying and advancing… In time she caught up with the expertise of her sisters, decades and centuries older. But the passion inside that craved for battle wouldn’t allow her to settle, the fighter’s spirit was too strong.
The land was a barren wasteland in his opinion but was never the less claimed with the long grasp of the greater race. The mountains were rich with ores too valuable to be left out of the warrior kind’s territory. Metal found in the caves and mines were used for weapon manufacturing and proved to be quite indispensible. Though this was not the reason of their arrival. Mountains also hid great feline predators, Kamehian tigers that presented a great challenge and were wanted for fur and beasts of war. One can assume that for those who inhabited the desert for most of the year, freezing winds and snow chained ground was a highly unpleasant experience. Barri had ordered a camp to be set up for the day when noticing a silhouette approach. Instinctively he grabbed the axe from his back when a shine of gold. The white feather tips of the edge of golden brown wings spread, glowing in snow environment. Blond lock was stained in red, damped in moist. She came forth and threw the striped silver pelt and had of skinned saber-toothed at his feet.
“Now you have a choice… to use my accept me and recognize my skill’s or fight” full lips stretched to a malice fused smile as crystals of ice melted before her hot breath. Smirk appeared on his face, an unnatural one that caused the long scare over the entire right side to shift. She knew right there…he would be her first tattoo of power. And so it was… The Crescent Blade went against the axe in motions that made atmosphere squeal. Blood spattered over snow, crimson drops staining its purity. Both were frozen in motion… Barri was experienced yet his hair filled with grays. Elysia stood as her father fell to knees, chest cut open.
“Never a hunter…” he smiled madly before chuckling through his own blood “Arden said she would bring me death though it was through hands of her daughter” Barri laughed insanely until coughing up more of sticking scarlet liquid. “Never will be a hunter…. That craving for battle… True Rashieka as Arden”. Elysia watched in silence as he died, collapsing at the tip of her armored boots. She regretted… not killing him but not knowing, hating the fact he was right. Ambition and talent would never settle for life of chasing animals.
Sisters saw it all… Rules were clear, take what you kill and for that the Grand Hunter was one that stood with gold strands tainted with blood. Wiping it off and cleansing the long blade she decided. Masseya, the eldest would assume that name and duties that come. She had other plans… Shriek disturbed her thoughts as Tarra fell to wheep over Barri, former hunter and father. At first caught by surprise of this action Elysia glared. Lips bended as dark chuckles echoes in lands of ice… Of all the siblings Tarra was the smug and arrogant one that always loathed Elysia’s existence. Hatred and envy were purest with her. And now to find the all-mighty tracker crying as an a Osth awaiting slaughter? Laughter broke.
“Curse upon you bastard slave child!” the kneeling woman screamed and charged “Never will I let the clan fall so low to obey a whore’s weakly…” sentence was finished by the Ka’rath Triangle that penetrated the frail, not nearly protected enough belly along with the hand holding the heir lung . She could feel the insides frosting, leaning forward to whisper in Tarra’s ear. “You are not even worthy of being killed by the Desert Blade, barely even worth my effort… Know, in seconds you will die while the weakling reigns. Farewell” Masseya and Atanaya were in shock… observing as she came to stand and taking the tigers fur. Throwing a look predator eyes meet the eldest “I have no wish to remain here even if Ka’rath is mine to take. You will assume leadership but beware … or end as our beloved sister.”
Desire for battle and gaining honor was deep but she still needed thought, contemplation. Rashieka were not any clan but exceptional fighters of Ganarae Dehala, ruler of Recharack. There were three ways of entering a clan: marriage, blood-lines and rarely…invitation of clans leader. Even so she wasn’t about to go and kneel before the Lord until proving worth. Chance for it came quickly. Once every now and then certain arranged a battle arena, fights to death. Most of them were slaves from conquered lands. It was a brilliant strategy to separate weak from strong. To have an adequate work force and possibly soldiers of a sort, they created these games. Weaklings quickly perished while survivors used for enhance their value, bodies and potential. However Angles were not forbidden to participate, something they never used. Elysia went to the arena and entered the games she knew Dahela would attend. The annual Ohfaril, choosing of best specimens and presenting spoils of war was something no clan leader would miss. She walked into the ring, armed and in her black scaled armor spreading arms and wings in its center.
“I am Elysia daughter of Barri, Hunter of Ka’rath and daughter of Arden, Fighter of Rashieka.” Crowd was surprised at first considering Angels didn’t even enter the ring in decades unless to claim the winner. Eyes directed at the location the last mentioned would be as lip bended “One hundred kills… that is how many will fall and be marked upon me with ink. If I survive my Lord I seek to return to blood that is in me…. If not I ask to be left in the sands of Recharack”. This was unexpected among those invited… Angel killing beasts and slaves? The day was long and there would be no rest once horns of Ohfaril sound the start. In the shadows nod was given to the one in charge and gates opened. Foes of all size, race and might entered, each bringing more color to the sand beneath. One after another fell as suns passed their path over desert sky, no rest no food no water. Determination and pride that would eventually cost now pushed the woman forward until every piece of skin was painted. Ultimately darkness came… and though tired, she stood. …. Becoming a Rashieka, winning a hundred symbols of power and her rightful place.
Over decades she learned to wield her mother’s blades to perfection and excelled. Elysia became one of the respected Rashieka and through conquest slowly advanced in the hierarchy. Hunting skills proved to be of use in tracking enemies and reading subtle signs of nature. After a victory in Far East, after few centuries of service she was accepted close to the circle of rulers, becoming a trusted warrior. Seasons turned to decades as she neared the third century, second in Rashieka. Word of marriage came regarding Lady of Dune’s, how some called her after that request in the arena, now in distant past. She didn’t care about it… marriage was nothing more than a alliance. However the choice the Lord made in her place as head of clan infuriated. From a high clan of warriors, one that climbed the ladder of success in warfare, she to be given to a small unimportant clan of Fwan Miners?! The insult stabbed deeply… Elysia, the great warrior and hunter was not about to permit this offense. Through age her fierce and wild nature settled, learning to wait for the right moment. So she waited, knowing going against Lords will, no matter how honored in court a person, was unwise.
On the date set for the ceremony court was filled with representatives of all ten ancient clans, all gathered as always when one of the revered ten was involved. She walked into the grand chamber in the traditional blood red dress, the ceremonial chest armor thin as material and decorated with songs of their most valued legend, creation of their race and fall of gods. This was the only time one could find an angelic soldier out of battle armor, each detail signifying the core of race. Crimson color of their robes to sign blood of enemies they shall slay together, blood that will join to create generation and enhance their reign, lines of First Legend to make sure they never forget the divine nature of those who murdered gods of heavens themselves. Elysia’s smile was wide… they should have known instantly something was wrong. Instead of standing before the Ganarae Dehala eyes blazed as if they were made of lightning, scanning the Mining Clan’s husband chosen. Smirk came as she took the inherited long crescent blade of Arden and looked straight at the Dehala.
“I honor your choice my Lord but I as one who made a hundred scars of glory in a day and served you to this time victoriously …” she paused throwing a look at each leader present before returning to her spouse to be. “Challenge …” pearl teeth showed taking a step to near and assuming the correct stance. “Prove worthy” That words left her lips with a sour his hidden, bitter feeling that wouldn’t let her retreat. Elysia and he fought. The end was quick as expected seeing he was better with hammers and stones than art of combat. Pathetic… She didn’t even think twice before slicing that ugly head of his off, watching it roll to feet of noble Lord. Casually index finger wiped off the few drops of blood that fell on the cheek. She turned to the crowd as blade slide open her palm.
“On this day I make a vow in blood…” Squeezing a fist liquid glided until making marks on the floor. “Only one who defeats me may have me” That being said she looked at the Dehala and his family. It was the last day she was seen around them.
Elysia took the most trusted, if one could use such a term considering she didn’t trust anyone, and left to the wildness, a warrior all clans came to in order to acquire aid. Remaining a Rashieka she answered all battle calls, lending skills only to honor mother’s name... for now. However nothing was same… Elysia never forgave their plan to give her away as a slave, as her mother. One day… they would pay dearly. World started to change … weather shifted randomly from heat to cold, the waterfall near her residency was replaced by an odd stone structure resembling a cube, hut of a sort. Upon an afternoon few months ago she armed herself and went to investigate the recent appearance of odd temples and vanishing of land. Never was she seen in Recharack again. Gold armor sparkled under new sun, waking in a most beautiful sight. The horizon was filled with thick vegetations and racing rivers she would later learn to be the many that made Amazon. Trusted Ramoth, an eagle and Elysia spread their wings, taking flight. The soared and explored the unknown territory. Months passed and she gathered more and more information of this place of opposites – wondrous and devastated. She reached the cities that laid in ruins and researched their scrolls, getting to know the realm angels feet never walked upon until this unexplainable event.
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It has been ten years since her warrior kind found itself in a strange new world. She had continued her work and domasticated and trained the more intelligent of Outsiders, work she started upon arrival. They had proven useful in front lines of the battle that shook Namesti and made road through flesh wall of their enemies. It proved to her the beasts could be used and she employed skills of the hunter and beastmaster clan of Ka’rath to work.
But in that passing decade it was not the thing she did.
She bonded with Omarion, the new Dehala and after the hunt traditional of his clan they had become paired as rulers of Namaesti. It was a year past the battle that she gave birth to their firstborn, a son, Eric, to continue the heirtage of the winged masters of war. The frail peace was well used and their suprior kind has now gained numbers, clans that were considered lost emerged. They slowly grew in numbers and power as lines were crossed over maps. The other breed grew weaker losing the advantage of weaponery while Angels grow strong. Humans and other are tolirated on streets..for now.
Sands of time move …the dunes conceal their world and Angels watch carefully. Only sands of time know where the winds will take their mighty wings. For now the Masters of War wait…
Post Example:
As expected they were late. She smiled from shadow, a soft and sincere expression only few got to see from this hardened warrior. They were the spot of sunlight in her deserted and detached life. For a moment, a mere moment she allowed her eyes to drift up. Light was dancing on a broken window, two pieces of glass leaned against one another fragmenting light into colors… She would appreciate that light if she was here. It was only few meetings really but the woman had something about her, a resilient spirit and joy, knowing how to appreciate little things. They were so like her now … she was there in signs, small pieces. Sigh passed her lips as Oriana gathered herself. This day was meant for reminiscent but it will be put aside for later. “Now what did your father tell you two more than once hm? And I repeated over and over... ” in a stern voice she said and came out from her hiding spot. Her eyes however revealed not a thread of being especially displease, it was absent of strictness when training them. No, this time her gaze was gentle. Her pupils didn’t notice her at first but they did and more importantly they followed each others lead. Slowly and steadily they were becoming more than siblings and pups…they were becoming a team. She walked towards them stepping into the morning light. It was a slightly chili morning, still with not a sound as breeze that passed through old wrecks. Oriana crossed her arms watching them before focusing on Monique. “You should take note about caution from your brother and you” her eyes went to Seth next “should not let guard down for simple argument with Moni” Oriana finished and then went close to them taking each one’s shoulder for a moment. “But good job kids” Kids… they weren’t her own. In fact as teens they disliked being called kids. But watching them grow up, they grew on her. They became the closest thing she had. Long ago… she called their father a brother. At the time it was born out of respect of the man and werewolf. In him she saw a man of integrity that in many ways reminded her of Kouhei that raised her. With passing of time the bond became stronger and deeper. Her eyes drifted to Jerome then… “I hope I didn’t take too much time” |