Chivalry: Academy for Future Knights

Name:





Carness Rodriguez


Gender: Female


Age: Exact age unknown, estimated to be at her late twenties or early 30s.


Race: Human


Appearance:


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Averagely built, Carness stands at 5’8”, weighing in at 139 lbs. She prefers her dark clothing which is rather…ahead of its time in the setting. She keeps her hair in a bun, decorated with white feathers and a flower.


Student or Mentor: Mentor


KNIGHTHOOD: Teutonic


Weapon: A simple civilian espada ropera. It’s been forged and reinforced a few times, but it basically boils down to a slightly more sturdy sword.


Secondary Weapon: A reinforced leather single-tailed whip, designed to split skin and fabric, causing as much pain as possible to the recipient.


Social Class: Noble


Province: The Rolling Plains


Liege(if any): Herself


Mount: A Friesian breed


Mount Name: Ozymandias “Ozzy”


Mount Personality: A stubborn and finicky steed that would more likely jerk its rider off its back rather than let her ride it. It does seem to only do that just to spite her more than anything else. Its intelligence, however, should be praised in that it does recognise a time when to not buck Carness off.


Social Class (if dragon, then explain family history/reason why they were chosen): Noble


Family Description:


“A sword cannot cut ideas.”


Rodriguez. An odd name amongst the more Germanic-themed nobles. Nevertheless, the Rodriguez family were not a family to be sneezed at, or to be even trifled with. Mere farmers and land-keepers in the beginning, the Three Hundred Year War changed the fate of the family. Samuel Rodriguez was drafted into the war, where he found his calling as a strategist. With him at the helm of a majority of the troops, Samuel led the Teutons to their victories, crushing their opponents with not only superior power, but with skill and tactics. He was knighted after the peace treaty was affirmed, given a land to call his own, and proclaimed a noble. Being one of those who had not actually shown combat prowess in war, it was a rare act of respect given by the Teutons. Samuel humbly accepted his position as a Teutonic noble.


The Rodriguez family always has at least ONE knighted person in the family as a form of tradition. It doesn’t matter if the knight is from the main branch, that is to say, descended from the eldest of the eldest etc. Currently, there are 8 living knights in the family, Ygritte, Johann, Lima, Krauss, George, Frederica, Natalie, and Nessie, three of which are from the main branch. The family rarely sees conflict within.


The Rodriguez family keeps their surname, even the females when they marry. Should the eldest daughter of the eldest son be married, their child will bear the Rodriguez name and the title of patriarch/matriarch when the daughter passes the title to him. This practice usually sees a bit of scuffling between both the son-in-law’s family and the Rodriguez’s, but most leave it at that.


Personality: Carness…is a very difficult person to describe with a few words. She seems to have a million and a half thoughts boiling inside her and is often so often engrossed with her own thinking that she would neglect basic human necessities. She can be seen striding around the academy, papers in hand and reading faster than a student cramming for his last-year exam, or scribbling theories, hypotheses and equations of some sort. Other times, she can be seen sitting somewhere and being lost in thought. What she is usually lost in, though, seems to be directly linked to her past with the Foresworn War. Carness, being a talented strategist like her ancestor, is recognised and defers from Samuel by the fact that she has pinpoint accuracy in predicting enemy movement and actions, so much so that she bases her assumptions, movement and actions through studying other people. Her deferring from her ancestor does not end here. She is simply unable to control that side of her. She cannot stop thinking. She is always thinking. She is always trying to know. This takes on a more sinister scale when she is interested in a person or a thing, as she will obsess over them, watching and learning, and charting their activities.


Carness, however, does have a more human side to her. Though mostly obsessed with her own mind, she has a teacher’s heart. Students who wish to learn will receive her utmost attention and care so she can nurture them into knights of the future. Those she sees potential in them will, too, see her be more mother-like. Throughout all things, she is protective of those who study under her, and those who are willing to take the time to gain knowledge. While she is one of the least physically-based combatants on-field, nothing will come close to harming a single hair on her students.


Take note, though, she has no heart for those who have none for their lessons. They can die for all she cares.


Best trait: Mind over body, pen over sword. She treasures intelligence over brawn.


Worst trait: An unfeeling machine towards those who do not find intelligence to be a treasure trove.


Soft Spot: Students who are willing to learn


Strengths:


+Unarmored foes are easy targets for her, since her weapons run around dealing as much pain as possible across fabric and skin. (combat)


+Her whip allows her to perform more flexible manoeuvres in combat, allowing her to disable a limb or to affix her to something. She has sufficient knowledge on how to wield the length of leather efficiently. (combat)


+Focusing on opponent strategies and movement, she can predict the next action taken by her opponent with near-pinpoint accuracy, and can utilise this to turn the tide. It’s optimally used in the war room, though. She also utilises the human psyche to turn her opponent against themselves (such as using a whip’s crack to bring out a person’s innate fear of pain even if they are wearing armor, and cause them to flinch)


Weaknesses:


-Armored foes are her bane. Her weapons simply glance and bounce off more heavily armored foes.


-Her psyche-manipulating is considered pretty useless against those who are confident of their prowess, and are not affected by, what she calls it herself, “a mewling kitten’s playing around with its prey”.


-Her strategies are highly based on knowing her enemy. Should she encounter something or someone she has yet to study, she will be at the disadvantage. Don’t count on this advantage for long, though. She can easily pick up on one's ability and prowess just by watching one swing a sword a few times.


-As said above, she is a heartless machine to those she has no interest with. She would gladly see them die, and not even raise a finger to help them. Mind over body. She absolutely HATES people who try to believe that knowledge is not needed.


Personal History (what affects them):


Carness Rodriguez was born at the southern part of the Rolling Plains, in the Rodriguez estate. She left the family at 15 to continue her studies in the Templar grounds, before she was requested by her father to take up knighthood at the academy. She paused her education for the moment's time, and departed to the academy to gain her title of a knight. Carness was described as a student who did not talk much, but participated in all that the academy had to offer. She was above average for a regular student in all her physical subjects, and was reportedly to be a proficient fencer, and a rather skilled swordswoman. Her horseriding, having been taught at home, was also rated highly amongst her mentors. Where she shone, however, was in her academic studies. She was one of those students who forged a career in knighthood through her studies than combat prowess.


After her knighthood, she went back to her apprenticeship as a doctor. She obtained her title as a medical professional at 25, and continued to study other things, and taking up the study of dragon biology. During this time, the Foresworn came to a full swing, and she was called back by her duty to the Teutonics as a knight of their folds to serve the alliance against the Foresworn. Her reputation in the Academy preceded her, as well as her bloodline, and she was put to serve as a strategist, though her job was likened to be more of an advisor's. She later participated in the worst of the Foresworn attacks, where their troops were nearly decimated when trekking through a forest. Taking the reins of the platoon after their commander was rendered...'unserviceable', Carness turned the tide of the battle through her own genius. The skirmish ended with a net loss of thousands of Foresworn, lost in the forest, as compared to the hundreds of knights lost. She was given the official role of a strategist in the alliance, and she played a key role in commanding the troops to their victory, where the name of Rodriguez soon echoed once more in the halls of war rooms.


The war ended, with the alliance claiming victory. The emergence of the dragons brought her much interest, and it thrilled her more to see their activity than the victory. After the war, she headed a group of interested individuals to study the dragons, and captained the establishment for a while, using her family's influence and money to fund it. At an age of 28, however, she halted her leadership, and passed it to her right hand man, George Friederich and his wife Lucy, and left them with enough funds for research for ten years. She left to wander the earth, taking up practical learning and studying actual specimens. Once or twice, she was approached by the armies of the three different knighthoods to take up a position in their military as a strategist. She declined all the offers.


A year before modern day, she suddenly applied for mentorship in the Academy. When asked why, she gave a straightforwards answer of that she wanted to study the knights of tomorrow, and perhaps, there was no guarantee she would do so, she added, lead them down a brighter path to aid their respective knighthoods. She taught for a while, almost a whole year, staying in campus for the whole while. Just recently, however, her father had taken ill, and as the eldest daughter, she had to return home, taking a leave off her work. There was been no news from her since, though the winds indicate that she may be returning soon....


Drives and motives: Currently, to pursue knowledge of the highest caliber, and to open the eyes of the youths who should be doing the same.
 
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Thanks for the interest you two! :) I updated the charsheet some, but feel free to PM me for any help you might be needing!
 
Name: Percival 'Percy' Jaeger


Gender: Male



Age:39



Race: Human



Appearance:





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young_knight_wip_by_dunechampion-d4ff3fk.jpg



Percival stands in at around 6'1 without armor, and is solidly built with prominent shoulders and broad arms, and weighs in at around 230 pounds.


Relic(if any): None


KNIGHTHOOD: Teutonic


Weapon: Percival has two main weapons, either a large lance, as pictured above that weighs in at around 5 kilos and is as tall as he is. The head of the lance also has small protrusions near the base to aid with parrying. His other main weapon is a Halberd, about the same length as his lance but slightly heavier, due to the added axe head. Unlike most halberds, the axe head on the end is double headed.


Secondary Weapon: A basic steel falchion. Percival also utilises a large kite shield when needed.


Social Class: Elevated commoner.


Province:N/A


Liege: N/A



Mount:
A grey Andalusian, strong and large.


Mount Name: Hyperion


Mount Personality: Hyperion is a very lax and easygoing stallion not unlike his very master, when not being ridden, he can often be found dozing away on a pile of hay, stuffing his face silly, or repeatedly attempting to mate with nearby mares. Hyperion's laziness causes a great deal of frustration to his master whom he disobeys on a regular basis. The only thing that can rouse Hyperion out of his usual stupor is the promise of battle, during which his personality does a complete 180. Despite his rebelliousness, Hyperion's loyalty is unquestionable, and he will follow Percival to the ends of the earth if need be.


Family Description:


"Theirs not to make reply,


Theirs not to reason why,



Theirs but to do and die:



Into the valley of Death



Rode the six hundred."



-Alfred Tennyson






House Jaeger is a name well known amongst the Teutonic provinces as one of the best mercenary cavalry and pikemen in the business. Their rise to infamy came during the height of the Three Hundred Year war, when casualties were astronomical and soldiers were dying by the second. Franklin Jaeger, a disgraced Templar knight, started the organization with other outcasts and proclaimed his alleigance to the highest bidder. For years to come, the group fought countless battles for all three orders, whoever had the highest bid at the time, and the three groups learned to raise their bids fast, lest their troops hear the dreaded rumble of the hooves of the Jaegers' mounts. The group had fallen into service to the Teutonics as the war came to a close, and the order, impressed by their mettle, offered the Jaegers a land of their own, a title amongst the nobility as well as a pardon from any previous crimes and asylum from the other orders, in exchange for their alleigiance to the Teutonics and them only. Franklin knew an offer he couldn't refuse when he saw one, and he immediately accepted, marking the formation of House Jaeger.


House Jaeger is more akin to an organization rather than an actual noble family, all those under the employ of them have to cast aside any previous titles and status and adopt the Jaeger name, Percival himself an example of a commoner bearing the Jaeger name. Every Jaeger undergoes the same rigorous training during their youth, and every single one is taught to ride and the ways of the lance. As they reach adulthood, they are granted a mount of their own after which, they are cast out from the castle so that they may seek their own paths. Most stay true to their origins, serving as sellswords and spreading the Jaeger name across the land, however all individiuals are not bound by duty and are free to forge a path of their own. The leader of House Jaeger, known as the Jaegermeister, is also decided through battle, like most things in the Teutonic provinces are. Every year a competition amongst all those who wish to join is held to determine the Jaegermeister for the year, and till this day, Franklin Jaeger is the only person ever known to hold that position for more than a single year.


The average Jaeger mercenary is most commonly known for their weapon of choice, the humble lance or spear. While thought by many to be an overtly simple weapon only wieleded by the rank and file, in the hands of a Jaeger it is a force to be reckoned with. It is favored by the Jaegers for its sheer battlefield practicallity, low maintenance costs and the ease of which it can be used on horseback, yet another field the Jaegers are famed for.


In battle, the Jaeger serve as the frontline charge and the face of the army. An enemy will judge an entire force's strength by the way the frontlines fight, and the Jaegers ensure that they will never have the chance to underestimate them. They blitz right into enemy lines with the intend to crush the morale of enemy troops and send them into disarray in one swift blow. The Jaegers will not flee, the Jaegers will not falter, they will charge through the enemy lines, and will yield only to death, or the sight of a bare field.


The Jaegers also have had an intense rivalry with the Landsknechts since the days of the Three Hundred Year war. Even in the days of peace, they bicker over contracts and argue over land ownership, waiting for the other to slip up for an excuse to tear out each other's throats. In the eyes of the Landsknechts, the Jaegers are cowardly pusillanimous cowards, too frightened to walk on their own two feet or fight like REAL MEN. Likewise, the Jaegers think of them as witless barbarians too stupid to properly diffrentiate friend from foe and unable to fight with any modicum of intelligence.


Personality:


Percival contrary to his position, is a slovenly and lazy individual and prefers to spend his off-hours dozing away in a spot of his choice. He assumes a rather calm and nonchalant attitude to the affairs of the world around him and is only concerned with tasks at hand. Despite this, his reputation as an exceptional fighter is unquestionable which has managed to keep him his knighthood, and he manages to display a modicum of enthusiasm when teaching new recruits, many of which vouch for his teachings. He possesses a strong sense of loyalty and honor, having being taught the importance of such values from young, and despite what his habits suggest, is constantly seeking for ways to improve himself, although actually putting in the required effort for such is a different matter altogether. He has a fondness for reading books, both for the fact their educational value and for the fact that they help him fall asleep faster.


Best trait: His acceptance of failure and constant desire to strive to greater heights.


Worst trait:His lack of any actual drive to strive for the aforementioned greater heights.


Soft Spot: He can never turn his back on a good sob story.


Strengths:


-
As is the case with majority of the Jaegers, Percival's rigorous training has physically conditioned him and strengthened him well beyond the strength of that of the common soldier. His knight training has only served to improve this further still.


- His skill with the lance is unerring, having trained with it from a very early age and his prowess is widely known amongst the Teutonic order.


- Respect for all opponents, no matter who they are. The Jaegers instill the values of respect amongst trainees during mock duels from an early age, and his many experiences on the battlefield have taught Percival to never undervalue an opponent under any circumstance.


-


Weaknesses:


- Percival's unwillingness to deviate from what he is used to has lead him into a number of dangerous situations quite often. Though he can change and adapt during a battle, more often than not he does not do so until it has been made very clear that he is on the losing end, and by then it may not do him much good.


- His laziness has lead to a large number of idiotic situations that could have easily been avoided had he been paying attention.


- His lack of noble blood, sketchy history, and the Jaeger's controversial status as a noble house has led to him being outcast by some in the Teutonic Order.


- His adherence to his old Jaeger traditions has led him to come into conflict with several of the Teutonic's laws, and is part of the cause for his stubborness.


Personal History:


Percival was born to a lowly pair of serfs in Teutonic lands, who slaved toiled endlessly under the opression of several cruel nobles. Unable to handle the responsiblities of bringing up a child in such a harsh environment, they sold the child to a local pitfighting ring at the early age of five in an attempt to procure enough money to flee to Lionhart lands. From that moment on, Percival was forced to fight for his survival every passing day of the week. With literally nothing else to live for, he dedicated himself to training every minute of the day, using nothing but a crude lance and targe, the young boy would enter the arena and spill the blood of his opponents for the crowd's entertinment, and with each passing fight his reputation as the arena's youngest comabatant soon spread amongst audiences.


On the day of his fourteenth birthday, Percival after killing several other esteemed pitfighters during the previous weeks was wanted dead by several unhappy betters. Bribing the match officials, they had his would be opponent pulled from the fight, and in his place, was a lion. However, as the match was about to begin, a drunken man fell from the upper levels and into the pit, where Percival was about to square off against the lion. Unable to properly orientate himself, the man was helpless against the charging feline, and was only saved by Percival's timely dive. The ensuing skirmish was short but grim, and ended with Percival imapling the Lion through the neck, but not before sustaining grevious claw wounds all over himself, leaving him bleeding out next to the lion's still corpse.


Percival awoke lying on a makeshift bed in the middle of a large stone room, covered in bloodstained bandages, but otherwise very much alive. As he stirred he was greated by an elderly man, one bearing a striking resemblance to the one he had defended.


"Ah, you're awake, I was starting to think you had succumbed to death's embrace. It's not everyday one such as yourself faces of against an opponent so very ferocious."


"Where am I? This isn't the combatant quarters, it's far too.... clean."


"Ahhhh, an astute observation, child. No this most certainly is not the pit from whence you have came, welcome to my humble abode."


"You brought me here?"


"Indeed, it was a move valiant thing you did, placing yourself between the path of the beast and my idiot son. It would be most... impolite of me to simply leave his saviour lying on the ground, choking on his own blood. So I took you here, and had your wounds tended to. I trust you find my services satisfactory?"


The man brandished a sheet of paper from his pocket at Percival.


"You didn't come cheap at all, the spectators at the arena seemed to have a fondness for little boys such as yourself. Starting today, you're family now, Master Percival Jaeger, I think you'll fit among us juuuuust fine."


The rest is as they say, history, Percival was brought up the Jaeger way and when he came of age, he joined the Teutonic order, where he remains till this day, napping as he waits for the next batch of recruits to whip into shape.


Drives and motives: Percival lives each day one at a time, and has no real ambition, only to learn more with ech passing day, and to bring honor to the Jaeger name when possible.
 
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• Name: Aduro Demens.


• Gender: Male.


• Age: Twenty-three.


• Race: Human, obviously. Who would wanna be a scaly-lizard?


• Appearance:


5x09-Cole.jpg



The man peaks at the height of five feet and eleven inches, not overly tall, weighing about one hundred and eighty-five pounds. His features seemed to mimic that of a marble statue—high cheekbones, strong concave jaw line, slightly long chin, and thin lips that seem to smirk at the world. But the only problem is… Aduro, despite him being a handsome fellow, has quite the rugged appearance. A loosely-shaved five o’clock is adorned upon most of his cheeks and jaw, coinciding nicely with his unkempt, pompadour hairstyle. His irises are a steely-grey and long dark eyelashes guard them from any grime in the air. Aduro almost always wears a black and crimson wide-brimmed hat donning a colossal feather on the right side (if facing him) that points up and then flows downward like a wave, and because of this, his true hairstyle usually goes unseen. Despite this though, a few petite brown-haired bangs can be seen on his forehead just before the shadow of the hat. The lobes of his ears are pierced with golden studs as well. If one were to look at the rest of his physique, they would quickly notice he is in rather amazing shape. His muscles are toned and strong, but not as powerful as any brute. His upper torso is covered by a red vest with gold strings tying it tight to his chest, showing off his toned configuration. The vest has no sleeves, and thus, his tanned muscular arms are visible. His legs are obscured by black trousers kept up high to his waist with a black leather belt decorated by a solid gold-painted buckle. His final piece of apparel are his boots, which are gilded and are all black except for the toes, which are the same red as his hat and vest.


• Social Class: Commoner.


• Province: Lorenhal, Lionhart.


• Liege: Davin Ghal.


• Mount: He isn’t very wealthy, so…


• Class: Thief/Minstrel.


• Family Description: Aduro’s family was, and is, extremely poor. The man acquired most of his valuable items through petty theft and pickpocketing through his bard-like travels throughout Lionhart.


• Personality: Aduro is the epitome of a sinful individual. He is greedy, lustful, wrathful, and vengeful. He will not think twice about conning or back-stabbing a “close” friend, and will do everything to fulfill his selfish nature. But yes, Aduro is slick in his way and will appear charismatic to all. Yet he is a jokester and very sarcastic when it comes to all types of matters.


• Best Trait: Very charismatic, despite his true intentions.


• Worst Trait: He will try to bed every woman he sees, as long as they are still attractive in his eyes.


• Soft Spot: Hard to say; Aduro is one for few words about his upbringing. Perhaps if a woman actually made the first move to bed him, rather than the other way around, things would be quite different.


• Strengths: He is an expert at stealth, and can easily pickpocket someone or pick a locked door. He is very intelligent, and can effortlessly think of plots to undermine those he does not care for. Finally, he has incredible hand-eye coordination and is talented at using dual-weaponry and weapons that need to be thrown.


• Weaknesses: Stated in his personality, but Aduro is incredibly lustful and will chase after tail at the first sign of it. Secondly, he is easily-irritated when it comes to those who question his abilities. Thirdly, he is a hyperbolist, for he will always try to think of a fantastical story that will put his enemies in the dust. Fourthly, it is difficult for him to keep friendships due to his constant thievery and pickpocketing that people discover after a short time.


• Weapons: Twin daggers that he keeps sheathed at either side of his hips. They are forged from hardy steel. The only other weapons Aduro has are small throwing knives which are kept in medium-sized pouches all around his belt.


• Personal History: Born into a poverty-stricken family of an ill-ridden father and an ill-tempered mother, Aduro was an only child and still managed to acquire no attention from his parents. His easily irritated mother was constantly fetching things for his sickly father who eventually passed away when Aduro was seventeen years old. Aduro was never close to his father, and thus, never truly mourned his loss. But the seventeen year old man that Aduro had become was one that could not tolerate the ignorance and stupidity of his mother. Because of this, Aduro fled his home as quickly as possible, packing up possible necessities (food, water, his father’s old war daggers, and ragged clothes). He set out to travel across Lionhart, and came upon a band of bardsmen who ventured across Lionhart, performing songs and poems for coin. As a man with no bearings, the bards took him in, teaching them their known legends/stories and many verses that he learned to recite with great talent. He traveled with the band for little over a year before they were attacked by a group of bandits. Through his charismatic ways, Aduro managed to halt the bandits from slaying him and stealing his goods, by saying that he also was a bandit that had infiltrated the bardsmen's camp and had already stolen most of their coin and one of their lutes. Of course, the story was true and the bandits took him in. The clan of bandits taught him how to fight with the daggers he had claimed from his father's stash. The bandit leader, Tourek, was a master swordsman who had betrayed his noble upbringing and had become a prestigious bandit. While Aduro had natural talent, Tourek provided him technique. One night though, the bandits came upon a band of merchants, but these merchants were not selling just goods, they were selling prostitutes. Tourek and his clan killed the merchants, robbed their goods, and raped the women for good sport. Even though Aduro was always a tail-chasing man, he would never participate in the defiling of a woman. That night, Aduro sneaked into Tourek's tent, stealing his exquisite apparel (that he now wears). And yes, Aduro stole his gold earrings as well. He's that guy. He decided not to kill Tourek, for while he had committed a deed Aduro did not agree with, he still respected the man for his teachings. Anyways, with a façade of wealth dripping all over him, Aduro fled the bandit clan and continued to travel as a minstrel, stealing, singing, and chasing tail wherever he went. Eventually though, Aduro was caught committing petty theft, but due to his natural athleticism, Aduro fled the scene in a hurry without a large pursuit by the guards. He knew his name would be over wanted posters throughout most of northwestern Lionhart, so now he has managed to slip into the neutral area of the academy for knights.


• Drives and Motives: Aduro is fond of money, women, and fame. He will do most anything to acquire any of those three things.
 
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He with no name.




Name: He was never officially given a name. Fellow Templars have called him the Hand of Justice, some churches have called him the Mercy of the Gods, others call him the Lone Swordsman. And enemies who aren’t smart call him “That bearded guy with the hat.”


Gender: Male


Age: Around 32


Race: Human


Element: Ice


Appearance:
2407331091_promo203846189.jpeg



But he has sleek black hair instead, which is medium length. He has a beard. He has a few scars on his face. He stands at six foot, and is slim, but muscular.


pri_21.jpg
His unarmored attire. Doe away with the hood in favor for a poncho like thing, and add a hat. That is also not his face.


HatmedJF16376.jpg
Make the plume a red feather.


Relic(if any): Justice’s Mercy: A unique relic in that is worn by the user at all times. It’s a sleeveless item that is on his torso, and the neck piece goes up around his entire neck. Upon saying his prayer, it renders that area untouchable. A sword will not pierce it, a hammer will not leave a bruise. No arrow shall enter into him. This only lasts for the battle after he speaks a prayer.


Student or Mentor: Mentor


KNIGHTHOOD: Templar


Weapon:
SH2000.jpg
He has two


Secondary Weapon:
Black-Maple-Laminated-Chinese-Longbow-For-Emperor-Traditional-Archery-Recurve-Horsebow-35-40-45-50LBS-HD.jpg



Social Class: Gwentman


Province: He has no recollection of where he was born, and the village from which he hails has been destroyed.


Liege: None


Mount:
fs_132.jpg



Mount Name: His mount lacks a name, but it responds to a whistle only he can do. His pack horse is named Levi, in honor of Leviticus


Mount Personality: His horse is very calm, and listens to him. It also will try to save him if it needs to. Levi is also a very tame horse, and it probably has a strong will. Mercy, the cat, acts like a damned lion.


Family Description: He was orphaned because his mother died at birth, and his father never showed.


Personality: This man is an odd one. He shows a certain determination when he sets his mind upon something. He’s also very humble, and a man to show respect to those he thinks deserves it. However, if he knows you're a fellow who ain’t good, and you do wrong to good people? He’d make sure to find a way to bring you down, and to justice.


Best trait: His two best traits are that he’s very wise, and that he’s incredibly humble. He’ll show respect to those who show it to them.


Worst trait: He’s stubborn. If he’s going to set his mind on it, he’s going to do it.


Soft Spot: His two horses, one is his mount, and the other his pack horse. And his cat, Mercy. To them, they are the only thing close to children he would ever have.


Strengths: He is very skilled with his swords. He is stealthy. He is able to manipulate two combating sides against each other while he is most of the time left unaffected. He is also a very skilled archer.


Weaknesses: He was born left handed, and due to an enemy being wise on him, his left hand isn’t as useful as what it used to be. He has a slight limp in his right leg due to an old injury. He assumes everyone is as knowledgeable as he about Easna, and that all other Knights are as battle knowing as he.


Personal History: His mother died birthing him, and his father never showed. He was raised in the small village in which he was raised, befriending a girl his age, whom he called Red. He went to a school there, learned to read, to write, to speak properly. He first picked up a wooden sword at age of seven, in fake duels with Red, each duel would end differently, but as time went on, the two both became much more skilled.Their duels would make her father, the village blacksmith smile. He had wanted his daughter to grow up to be a strong warrior, hopefully a knight.


As time went on, the two became really close. The elders of the village were sure the two were meant for each other, and then it happened. It was the worst thing to happen to the village on that fateful night. Bandits, a group of liars and cowards came in, robbing the village of life and plunder, leaving none alive, or so they thought.


He and Red had managed to hide, and the one who had came after them found himself dead, sword through his chest and then into the blacksmith’s fires. The two had also managed to grab three horses, ponies at the time, and made their escape. Both of them vowing revenge one day.


Together, the two traveled to a nearby city. They got a room at an inn, paying with money they got from selling the pelts of animals they hunted. Once they were rested up, the two went to go and pray in a Temple of Eesna, located near the river. Upon walking in, he was offered a relic, and upon touching it, he was surrounded by ice, a form of Armor, of the holy kind. A Templar noticed, and called out to him.


Some of temple priests also came over, and told him that it was a sign that he was Chosen by Eesna. The Templar asked him to go to the Academy, as he’d ensure his entry. And he responded by saying only if Red was allowed entrance.


They traveled to the Academy. There, he and Red trained, and eventually both became squires to the Templar.


He and Red were knighted once they, along with their mentor, went to a village and cleared it of Foresworn, He and Red entering a mine, then splitting up. It was there he found his relic which no one knows about.


After the two were knighted, they extracted revenge, and that was the last time he ever saw Red. His history after that isn’t known, but it is known he fought in the war against the Foresworn, and solidified himself as the Champion of Eesna.


Drives and motives: Justice, he wants to enforce the Justice and Mercy onto those who need to be brought to Justice.
 
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Name:


Wilhelmina "the Strong" Fortitudo


Gender:


Female


Age:


28


Race: Human


Appearance:


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_08/8ab832f2dcc7220de8bf1252a55268fa.jpg.20d4ffc99f13e9b4d5bd22298f6e07ec.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="27037" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_08/8ab832f2dcc7220de8bf1252a55268fa.jpg.20d4ffc99f13e9b4d5bd22298f6e07ec.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>



Quite bulky in size, Wilhelmina has quite a bit of meat here and there, but more than makes up for her voracious appetite with her muscles, which are all but pronounced from her eating habits. She definitely does not skip leg day, especially with those thundering thighs and calves of steel. She stands at five feet seven or so, 171 cm to be exact, and weighs about 158 lbs, around 71 kg. Under her helmet, her hair is cut to a short bob with bangs, though most of her orange locks are brushed aside from obscuring her view. Never seen without her armor, a thick, heavy set that looks no lighter than twice of what she weighs, with a rather pronounced helmet with a face-obscuring visor and long horns at either side. The visor only goes down when she marches into the fray.


Weapon:


A greatsword whose blade is as tall as her, and the handle making it almost an entire foot taller than her.


Secondary Weapon:


Her fists. With a strength of hers, she's more likely to bowl you over with her own bare hands than with any other weapon.


Social Class(see hierarchy):



Commoner, before Mercenary


Province:


Audhenmar, the Northernmost coast of Templar territory. There is nothing very much unique about Audhenmar. Being the bridge between this land and the outside world has led Audhenmar to be quite estranged from its Templar owners, and they prosper from trades with the lands elsewhere. The people are easily charmed by new concepts and items, and are very stubborn about changing their ways to fit the Templars' beliefs, calling it 'old-fashioned'.


Liege:



It's not a matter of whom she pledges allegiance to, it's a matter of who wants her pledging allegiance to them, given her track record and inability to do anything but aid people in running into her sword.


Social Class:



Commoner


Family Description:


The Fortitudo name rings in Audhenmar like a ghost's wail. It echoes in everyone's minds, and nearly every woman and man knows of the name. But where, exactly, such a name came from, that is the mystery. It is so familiar, yet so distant. Perhaps such a family never existed at all, or they did, but did so in a time long past. Searching up in the archives shows that a family with the last name of Fortitudo lived in Audhenmar for 16 years, before they moved away. To where, no one knows. It is further said that they had 3 children, two of which were daughters. One was born on the day they moved here.

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Every family has their wayward child, just as every knighthood has their rebels, every military has their criminals, and every community has their sinners. To all of these poor souls who have found themselves shunned, kicked and despised by those they once called friends and family, they can only turn to their ownselves, or to the Blood Ravens. The Blood Ravens are, to put simply, a mercenary band whose tasks include the most demanding jobs, and are hired by multiple sources, including the military. They promise a hundred percent completion of their tasks given, but only if their payers are giving them the top dollar. They have no such thing as loyalty to the client, and are encouraged to always go with the one with the higher pay. While the members have some semblance of a conscience, i.e. children being out of the picture when taking an assassination job, stealing from the already bankrupt, etc, they have no scruples when it comes to who they will side in a matter of money. After all, these knights had been loyal once, but were tossed aside. Loyalty is now nothing to them.


They emerged 11 years ago, after a band of knights, disgraced by their own orders, banded together, crossed their swords and vowed to cast away their knighthood. The founders' names were never found, but their descriptions still run through the whispers of modern Blood Ravens. There were four: a knight of an armor that resembled an onion, along with his helmet, who wielded towering greatshields on both his arms; a giant of a man, whose long hair covered his eyes, and wore nothing but ripped trousers and an ill-fitting tunic, wielding a ball and chain; another knight with a crimson armor with golden trims, his piercing green eyes and dark hair a clear distinction from his partners, whose faces were all obscured, and finally, a knight with a helmet with the horns of an ox, who matched the giant in strength, and wielded a sword even taller than he. The Blood Ravens grew as they began to make a name of themselves, cutting a path through time. They were deployed against the Foresworn, and they proved to be extremely efficient. Some of the Blood Ravens were even cordially invited back to their orders, but as they say within the Ravens:


"Once you go black, you never go back."


"He who draws the blood for the raven is tarnished with stains that cannot be cleansed."


The four leaders of the Blood Ravens have stepped down from their leadership recently, leaving four others to take their place. Bidding farewell to each other, they each parted ways, with no doubt in their minds that one day, they shall meet again. But whether as enemies or friends, only the future knows.


Personality:


It is impossible to describe the colourful vibrance that is Wilhelmina Fortitudo with just a handful of words. Bright, cheery, optimistic, idealistic, naive, gullible, foolish, obfuscation and a blank slate are what most begin with. She proclaims to be a "simple-minded, self-serving mercenary". To all, that is what she is: a rather cheery, gullible mercenary who is only anywhere at a given time for the money. She always wears a smile on her face, and never once claims to feel down. After all, there is nothing to worry about: the sky isn't falling down. Aloof and airheaded, she pays no special attention to the political strife of the land, claiming that she doesn't have half the brain to understand the context anyway. She cares not for what banner or flag you stand under, she cares only if you're paying, for if you are, your chances of not being flattened under the flat of her sword is higher. She cares less for those whom you direct her to to cleave in half. As far as she is concerned, they aren't the ones putting coin in her pocket; they were already dead to begin with.


It's not known whether she's putting on an act of obfuscating stupidity, but she is extremely dense, and has no sense of metaphorical speak. Nothing seems to penetrate her head, and talking of romance and flowers is like talking about romance and flowers to someone who thinks romance is just kissing and sleeping in the same bed, and flowers are things to make your room smell nice. If she really is acting, it's a really damned good act.


Best trait:


Dogged perservation


Worst trait:


Money-faced.


Soft Spot:


Cash.
As if you had to ask.


Sympathises and perhaps even empathises with those who have fallen from grace.


Strengths:


+Extremely strong. Her sword and armor barely weighs her down at all, given by how she readily claps her visor down and charges straight into the fray without falling behind her comrades.


+With this amazing strength, also comes a inhuman endurance. She can lift that armor and sword for the whole day and not exhaust herself, and takes more than just a few wounds to even start slowing down.


+A rather warm and cheery individual who seems to see everyone in an equal light. Very approachable.


Weaknesses:


- She has no idea what strategy, skill and teamwork is, unless told up front by someone. She might forget it in ten minutes. Her only strategy is to hit as hard as possible, and repeat until whatever she's hitting is dead. Surprisingly effective, but nonetheless simple.


-While her armor doesn't really weigh her down, weight is still a problem, especially when it includes gravity. The armor is also rather cumbersome, and if she is, say, pushed over, or if she trips and falls, it will take her quite a while to get up. More to the point, high heights are...dangerous, to say the least, for someone as heavily armored as her.


-Loyalty is a silly word to her. The only loyalty that speaks to her is the sound of clinking coins. Get rich or get dead.


-Merciless. Unless you can 'convince' her to back off, there's no way you're going to stop her from her job. Heartless is a better word for this...


Personal History (what affects them):



Mystery enshrouds the armored powerhouse that is Wilhelmina Fortitudo. She wanders the land for money and good fights, and that's all that most know about her. She was born in Audhenmar, she grew up there, and left to become a knight a year before the Fortitudo family moved away from Audhenmar, never to be seen again, and Wilhelmina's face never showed once in the province again. Records show that Wilhelmina procured her knighthood at an age of 17, but the records end there. She was officially removed from the records almost half a year after her ascension after a joint operation with knights of the other orders ended in failure and all were excommunicated from their respective orders. Their names were cast aside by their orders, to be forgotten by all, never to be remembered again- the punishment for the crime of failure and shame. No one knows where they went, but soon after that, a name began to rise from the depths of Gallace: the Blood Ravens. They were nothing like the Jaegers or the Landsknechts, neither bound by honor, family or all that nice hat. Instead, they were bound by one common motive: to drag their names back from the mud that all of them have been cast in.


The Blood Ravens were lead by four knights, who have been said to be excommunicated knights. One of them bore an armor uncannily similar to Wilhelmina's, and possessed an inhuman strength that those who still recall the cheerful knight who graduated with them remember all too well. None of the Blood Ravens enjoyed talking to those outside their group, and as such, not an ounce of information regarding this particular knight, or any of them, could be gathered.


Wilhelmina has since appeared in public, now as a "self-serving mercenary" under no group, and when questioned about her whereabouts for the past 11 years, all she has to say is that she had been mulling it over in her head at her old family home and thinking of what she should do with her life, although no one from Audhenmar can say for sure she was around. To this day, not a single soul can fully claim that the Raven with the horned helmet is Wilhelmina, despite their similarities.


Drives and motives:


www.youtube.com.sg/watch?v=ETxmCCsMoD0


As well as to find the best in the land, and challenge them



 

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Name: Sayne du Challant


Gender: Male


Age: 24


Race: Human


Appearance: He's five foot eleven, and has all the dancer-like grace and carved muscles to make the lithe body of a trained fencer. An objectively, notably handsome face, and a playful expression are usually what a person would notice first. His demeanor works to put others at ease, and his voice, made strong by song, is smooth as butter.

MSpcRCLl.jpg



Relic:
Airesh's blessing is caught around his thin rapier's hilt, a green, curling shine that calls out to the goddess of wind. Made ironic due to its wielder, the blade's name is 'Chaste'.






Ig889Cv.jpg


KNIGHTHOOD:

Lionhart



Weapons:

Chaste, secondary Rapier, Poignard, Longsword, Lance, Double-curved Long Bow, and Throwing Axes.



Social Class:

Duke's Son



Family Description:

The Challants are largely regaled as the greatest and eldest of noble houses next to the Great Lord's own. Sayne is the family's only child, the Duke is years dead, and only the Duchess Nathalie reigns over the land. Rumors circulate that their household will merge with the Grandmaster's by way of marriage or succession.



Province:

Challant, a hilly spread of land that mines and villages litter. Towns huddle by forests, rivers, and water wheels are aplenty. Challant is a heavy producer of grain and iron, and its largest city, Chardonney, has the tallest steeple in its Airesh temple, a green colored balcony atop the highest rise.



Liege:

Richard Adalric, Grandmaster



Mount:

A pure white stallion



Mount Name:

Snowflake



Mount Personality:

Docile and calm even in the heat of battle, Snowflake obeys with no second-guessing even unto death. He follows specific commands vocally given, from rearing to snorting to stomping his hooves. The intelligence of a trained beast sparks in those dull brown eyes.

Personality: This young man has been described as romantic, as frivolous, as wicked, affluent, despicable and cold of heart. "All claims true," Would he admit with a childish grin. Sayne condescends naturally; his eloquence blends with persuasive niggling, is highlighted by a cacophony of swelling words. He loves the dance of poetry, the masking of intentions, and the playing with lies. The subtle and hinted, yet dual in meaning forming of speech is his favored forte, and rarely, if ever, is he direct with his intentions. He is not unwilling to be cruel given an occasion where it is required, and holds fast to the Lionhart hierarchy; those that have been given their place must by the will of the gods remain in it.


But Sayne is also contrary. No matter the class, women are what he gravitates toward, and unto them he exudes every manner of praise, by way of varied ballad and endless, exorbitant flatterings. The more dramatic, the more enjoyable the chase. He's playful with women as he is in all things, enjoying the escape offered with pointless endeavors.


To those that have lasted past these flippancies and remained to befriend the core of him, Sayne has proven a loyal and steadfast ally.

Best trait:

Tenacious



Worst trait:

Foolish



Soft Spot:

Womenfolk



Strengths:

Eloquent, Cool-headed, and agile



Weaknesses:

Headstrong, frivolous, and quite the bully. He lacks in bulky strength, but his greatest weakness in combat is how easily he is taunted into action. His pride could prove to be the death of him.

Rumoured History:


"Come one, come all, and sit and hear the tale of the man called Sayne!"


"The fire is warm, the night is cold, and here in the shadows cast by light shall you know the man that drank every tankard at the Brockshaw Inn, who was never want for company in bed, that volunteered to take up arms in the great ForeSworn War, who now stands at the precipice of power. Lord Sayne du Challant, he who spells doom for the Lionhart Order.


You may have heard of him.


His mother, Nathalie du Challant, and his father, Francois du Challant, were very much in love when they were wed. The benevolence from so true a marriage spread gentle conduct over the land they ruled, and it was a time of joy and peace in that budding land.


In the spring of their second year of marriage, a baby was born. With the child was propagated terrible misfortune. The Duke Francois went mad, the midwife was murdered, and Duchess Nathalie fell into a state of unbearable grief. Blood was shed with this new life, and more blood would be shed as this boy grew into manhood. For, you see, it is whispered that Francois is no father to Sayne. Francois was dark of skin and hair, huge of stature and mighty to behold. His mother was of the fairest skin, yet raven black hair graced her head. Fair Sayne, as you can clearly see, is none of these things. Mayhap the true father was a servant, or some dastardly troubadour, or… mayhap, it was a devil what snuck into Nathalie’s bed and took her. In whatever case, no matter what tragedy gave her such a child, the merciful duchess raised him with warm affections. There is known no stranger son to have been raised by a more loving mother. The young Sayne was coddled and cared for personally by the Duchess Nathalie until he came of age to be sent off to the Academy, as all highborn children are.


His time as Academ is the stuff you hear here, in Galt, everyday, divulged of in the castle halls, enthused of in the taverns, taunted of behind the closed doors of bedrooms.


They say thirty women knew his touch. But by my reckoning, it was at least five times that.


For the tales are told amany, and I'm sure you've heard them all in excess, but allow me my retelling. Even as a child, Sayne was a womanizer. Mischief was caught in every one of his actions. He rallied his peers to chase after women three times his age, to uncover beneath their dresses and skirts. He had been caught numerous times peeking in on the womens’ bath, and no punishment deterred him more than a day’s time. They say the first woman to grace his quarters was Lady Viridiana, the Bold. She had fire for hair, and was in all things brave and true, a knight in spirit though not yet in name. Now a bold young man, Sayne wooed her in the hours of combat; that rigorous, intermittent contact of a warrior's dance seduced her. By the next morning, the tale was sealed. The servants say they found her hiding in the kitchen the following morn, covered only in the blankets by the hearth. But that was only the first of the tales told; more would soon follow. The next of them would be Beatrice, the Pure, or the once-Pure. She was likened unto a ghost -- white from the tips of her toes to the top of her hair, and the quietest, shyest of women you ever did see. The lass was three years Sayne’s younger, but at the sight of her, he pursued, he favored, and he obtained. Never a night went by without a woman sneaking out his window or hiding beneath his bed. They all believed themselves unseen, but the servants’ prying eyes were on high alert, and nothing could keep the word from spreading. Why, the proof is in the pudding; look upon the eyes of the children within the brothels, and tell me what you see? They are the bastard children of our soon-to-be Grandmaster, unwanted, discarded, and forgotten.


Oi, I see you retreating. Do these tales seem far-fetched for you, my listener? Well, you’re not wrong to think so; any pretty woman that spoke to the frivolous Sayne was whispered of, told tale about. Servants and nobles alike were rumored and caught in his repertoire of experience --my own wife, Lilly, is counted among them-- but who is to say for certain fact from fiction? The wagging tongues of woman spark fires and spawn gold.


Only Duchess Nathalie kept all the ruckus from tarnishing Sayne's legal standing, but she could not save his reputation. It may not be our thoughts that matter, but it is our eyes that see, and our word that spreads.


Now, there is more that we know of the man called Sayne. For one thing, besides his admirable mother, shines good in all his life. Beyond the women that frequented his quarters, Sayne had one companion of manhood same. Aubin the Pure, true and straight as an arrow, and all the strength of lion. The pure boy was under no pull of duty, but he saw fit to volunteer for the war against the ForeSworn, and many believe Sayne followed him when he, too, took up arms for the Western front.


They fought in battle until the end, and who knows what horrors they faced. The rigorous skirmish at Hundaur at the foot of the Black Mountains had their hand in it, and they've the ForeSworn heads to prove it. They returned with the champions, battered, quieter, but now knights by their own merit.


Yet it was then, during the knighting ceremony, that the oddest happenstance occured. Sayne, who not once surpassed Aubin or any other knight in courage or chivalry on those frontlines, was raised up by the Grandmaster from his kneeling place as the sword touched his shoulder. At the naming of his knighthood, Sayne was rewarded for the same dead a second time. The signet ring was placed on his finger, the Master’s own sword in his hands, marking him as both favored and empowered. On that day, all Lionharts did shudder, for the noble devil was named as third contestant for the Lionhart throne.


Who knows what possessed the Grandmaster so? Only time will tell if the decision was wise, if the evil in this man is redeemed to good, if he will not be overturned by his rivals in the pursuit for power. Whatever fate reveals shall I tell. For the peasant has no hand in the formings of rulers."


Drives and motives: To become the next Grandmaster and rule over the Lionhart Order.
 
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Name: Franne Stenhardt, 2.0a


Gender: Female


Age: 18


Race: Human


Appearance:

Just a general idea of how she looks, I will redo/refine her at one point but yeah could be good nuff for dis, maybe.


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_08/57a8c02a5f529_20140815_2341411.jpg.8124f68c7f847472d7614e063326c5f7.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="27425" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_08/57a8c02a5f529_20140815_2341411.jpg.8124f68c7f847472d7614e063326c5f7.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


Standing a 5'7, weighing not that much at 135 pounds well close to 170 with her weapons and armor, yes being a servant meant her armor was shiet tier. One may find a network of scars that run along her body underneath the armor casing. Her muscles are toned through ten years of constant practice and abuse, take your pick, though she still does not possess enough strength to cleave a man in half in one slash.


KNIGHTHOOD: Lionhart


Weapons: A short sword, a somewhat longer short sword, a pair of daggers, sometimes a crossbow. "I slit that little boy's throat..'


Social Class: Filthy(rich) commoner(like stupidly rich) peasant(you wouldn't believe what her family can buy) girl. "I am just a stain underneath one's boot."


Family Description:


The Stenhardts aren't natives to this land as they came from land elsewhere. They are a clan of shrewd diplomats, smooth talkers and unforgiving tradesmen and women. Once, they may have been known in a far off land for their prowess and loyalty to their king but that land no longer exists, toppling under the weight of its own ambition.


In a bid to find another land to call their own after being nomadic for a time, the family heads chose to meet with Richard Adalric to secure some sort of nobility and land for the Stenhardts. The Stenhardts did their research prior to this deal and deemed the both Teutons and Templars to be orders with varying sizes and styles of sticks up their asses and would not listen to the clink of money or value exotic trade goods.


Not much else is known of the Stenhardts. Their family coffers overflow with gold and trade deals they have established and secured with outside sources during their time as a nomadic family, trade deals they have utilized to open new avenues of equipment acquisition for the Lionharts ensuring that their lords have the cutting edge armaments to use against other two orders or any threat. "For my family"


Province:


None, Richard Adalric has not given them even a temporary land to stay in. The clan and their followers have based themselves in a ruined border town of another country that neighbors Gallace. Of course that other country has allowed the temporary Stenhardt residence in exchange for a tithe every year. "I was born homeless"


Liege:
Sayne du Challant, the prissy bitch the lover who hates her her lord and liege.


Personality:


This young girl had already lost her innocence as early as eight years old. For you see, the Lionharts are a greedy bunch and they were not content with just material goods, the family needed a Stenhardt hostage. After much debate it was decided that Lucian Stenhardt's sole daughter would be given up as part of the trade. Through that agreement, Franne was subject to the entrance test that all commoners would go through if they aspired to be part of the academy and one part of that was entry trial was a battle royale. This battle royale had desensitized the young girl to killing, thirty participants, all of ages seven to nine, all died by her hand. She found herself shedding no tears by the end of it, she comprehended what she had done but she felt no remorse. It was only over painful gutting that bright eyed seven year old farmer's son after all. It was empowering to be honest. She found herself with absolutely no qualms killing anything that moved, a trait the Cadre had tried their best not utilize.


Franne is a rebellious and defiant soul. If she didn't like it, she would make it known, suffer the consequences of her words and actions, and then be forced to do that certain task. It was a trait she developed as she was passed around, groomed as a boy no less, Lionhart nobles of varying degrees of filthy. This trait is also responsible for the gallery of scars on her. She is outspoken regardless of who she talks to, except if they were really recognized as high nobility. She was loud, but she wasn't stupid. To cope with everything, she simply believes in the cause that this would make her family pleased, that this would help her father and mother. She also believed that she was helping her second family, the Cadre, with their work, a noble goal that had been passed onto their ragtag collection of nobles by Richard Adalric himself.


However, if she feels that this certain cause or person or anything is worth fighting for, her loyalty is unmatched, her obedience is unmatched. Somehow the trait had manifested itself during the earlier days of being under Sayne du Challant for reasons that simply unclear to her.


Regardless, she is broken girl and conflicted with nothing but defiance on the surface to hide her volatility. A girl that is unsure of herself, but she had had her own free will taken from her and molded into something she's not.


Best trait: Loyal?


Worst trait: Apathetic?


Soft Spot: Sayne? Nothing at all?


Strengths: Apathy? Her intelligence?


Weaknesses: Her lack of proper strength? Her loyalty? Her defiance? Her inability to shut up? Sayne?


Rumoured History:


"You wish to know about the child? Who cares about a servant from another country? She goes by many names, none could ever ascertain her true identity. I could tell you of the nature of her work, but I would have to slaughter you where you stand. You see her work affects my work as well and my work just so happens to come down from the Lionhart Grand Master himself. She is no noble, so why bother, you would benefit nothing from knowing about her. Drop any notion you have of knowing what she is, it will only end with your death. Just convince yourself that she is any normal filthy commoner child, one lesser than the shit stains on your boot, 'milord.' This meeting is over."


-Sir Roland North. "No one knows who I am"


Drives and motives: To be bring honor and glory to her family. "F-f-for my love, Sayne" "For myself" "I want to be free" "I'm scared" "I never wanted to be sold into subjugation" "I want this nightmare to stop" "I am a lesser being" "Sayne hates me" "What is hope?" To bring glory to the Lionhart cause. "There is no redemption for me"

 

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Corinna Oriel

Gender


Female


Age


18


Race


Human


Appearance Notes


Height: 5’2” / Weight: 110 lbs / Hair: Auburn / Eyes: Amber / Usual clothing: White Apprentice Robes with red trim : Link. Clasping her hood closed as a circular pendent with a sun engraved into it.


Relic


Cuff das Feuer


A pair of bracelets made of brass which has a one inch in width, the bands are engraved with intricate patterns of fire and a sun, in place of the sun is a crimson gem with small fragments of red dragon scales fanning out from the gem.


Student or Mentor


Acolyte (Student)


Order


Teutonic


Weapon


Jäger – A Messer given to her by her father.

EP29v.jpg



Secondary Weapon


Bow and Arrow – A strong wooden bow painted a dark crimson with a soft leather wrap around handle below the notch. As an experienced Corinna is fairly accurate with a bow. She rather stalk her prey before firing at vital parts of her targets anatomy. Preferring quick kills as opposed to slow ones.


Social Class


Apprentice priestess for Flamberge


Province


Mechthild – Destroyed


Liege


Mother was a commoner devoted to the church. Father came from a long line of priests and priestess to the great god of Flamberge


Mount






chestnut_tobiano_paint_horse_jump_by_venomxbaby-d6drpz6.jpg



Mount Personality


Geist is a very spirited horse. He loves to run in open spaces and often play keep away with anyone who tries to catch him. The only one who seems to be able to “talk some sense” in to him is Corin and that’s mostly because she gives him treats for his mischievous behavior.


Personality


Being raised by priests and priestesses religion has always been an important part of Corins life. She spends much of her time praying or practicing the blessed “gifts” granted to her by the wondrous Flamberge. She is said to be fanatical in her beliefs and heaven help anyone who tries to argue her beliefs. She is rough around the edges and very out spoken about her opinions. She can come off as very pushy and loud. She has a severe hatred and mistrust towards Dragons believing them to be evil demons.


Best Trait


Strong Will


Worst Trait


Blind trust in her faith


Soft Spot


Children and babies


Strengths


Corinna is very suborn and driven. She will not stop until her goals have been reached. She has a high stamina and is able to endure large amounts of pain.


Weaknesses


Corinnas overzealous nature can be very off putting and sometimes causes her to jump to conclusions based on her teachings. She is extremely stubborn in battle and won’t stop until she is killed or unconscious. While she has high stamina and can endure more pain than most she is not invincible, her high threshold for pain often has her with injuries she doesn’t even acknowledge. Her small stature does not lend it’s self to being very strong physically either.


Personal History


Corinna’s mother died while giving birth to her leaving her in the care of her father. She was raised by the clergy with in the church. When she was eight her small town got word that the invading force was drawing near. The whole town prepared for battle even Corinna prepared to fight alongside her father. Her father gave her his sword in place of the older one she had used for practice. It was one passed down through the generations of warriors. As the enemy grew closer it became clear that it was a very large force, one that would end the lives of many, if not all, of the towns people’s lives. So in an attempt to save those who could not fight the children, elderly and women willing to leave were sent away to find refuge in another village. Corinna refused to leave and had to be dragged away kicking and screaming.


Not very long after they arrived at the village they received word that the town had fallen and there were no survivors. Corinna wept for the loss of her father and others who were family for her but vowed to become stronger so she could stand up and fight for herself instead of running. Corin was taken in by one of the priest at the temple who was tasked with the job of blessing warriors with the great strength of Flambere. Corin traveling from temple to temple taking refuge and learning from her mentor. She devoted her life to worshiping the great god Flamberge in hope that she would one day be aided by divine power and give her strength.


Her prayers were answered in the form of an artifact bestowed upon her by her mentor for the diligence Corin showed. She was given the Cuff das Feuer at the age of fourteen starting the next phase of her training. She spent hours upon hours reading and researching Theurgy. She practice night and day between prayer and chores enduring the pain when she messed up or made a mistake as penance for her folly. Over the years she has gained many scars on her hands and arms from working with fire but has also gained a high level of success with her artifact.


The time has come for the last phase in Corrina’s training as she has been tasked by her mentor to rid the world of evil and save those humans unlucky enough to be forced into close quarters with the demons known as dragons.


Drives and motives


What drives Corin is her faith and need to cleanse the world of sin and evil.
 
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