Post by Narkissa on Aug 17, 2015 5:25:25 GMT
Name: Narkissa Giollagain
Birthplace: Voltain
Gender: Female
Race: Vampyre
Age: 27
Affiliation: Voltain; The Vampyre people
Personality: Open-minded and curious. Slow to anger, equally slow to cool. Has the capability to be extremely vengeful. That said, she's quiet and tentative around new people, but will defend her friends, and people with her very life.
Physical Description: Disheveled. scraggly long black hair, with strange birthmarks under the bottom of her eyes that make it seem like she had cried fire at some point. Otherwise lithe and tall.
History: Voltain was the start of her journey. Narkissa grew up daughter to a butcher, and seamstress. She was taught the basic use of a blade from a young age by her Mother, and after that from the young men in the village. She was never what one would consider "girly". In fact, she had sent most of her peers running home with busted lips, and black eyes. For a time, she knew a simple life, and found a peaceful retreat in her home. That is until she met Adhamh. It rained that night, and she woke from a dead sleep with a start. Sweat seemed to encase her frame as her heartbeat quickened for no apparent reason. She walked to her door, opening it to a series of hushed murmurs, and condescending snickers. She found herself at the top of her stairs, in a room of about twelve people, including her parents. A man she had never seen before, but knew a little bit about stood perched over her Mother; his hand balled in a fist on a tuft of her Mother's hair. "M-..Mother?" she questioned, feet shuffling as she fearlessly traversed down the steps.
The man ripped away from her, spraying blood across the wall adjacent to where her Mother sit. Her Father was sitting right next to her, and seemed distraught when he laid his eyes on his daughter. She figured out later he was simply trying to get it all over with so that she didn't fall victim to the nobles. Adhamh, one of her own ancestors gave her a vicious look. She watched him so intently that she didn't even notice the soldier behind her. He grabbed her by her collar, dragging her closer to this specter. 'This one also my liege?' he questioned, to which the obvious leader of the group gave a dull smile. She couldn't contain herself and let out a blood-curdling scream. She screamed until she felt a dull knock on the back her head, and just like that she was in a daze. She remembered her Fathers voice pleading with the men. It seemed as though he was offering himself to save the life of his only child.
She didn't stay knocked out for long, and in fact woke up in time to see the men shuffling out of the room. Only one stayed; watching her with tawny eyes. All she could do was watch as they dragged her parents bodies away, and cry. Given, these tears were not those of a child who had been robbed for their candy, or scolded for running too fast at home. These tears were silent, and filled with a rage. Why her parents? The man stood there, watching this young girl shiver with rage, and a thought hit him. It was the thought he would trickle into her brain for years to come. Their people were better once. Their people were strong, and fearless. Later in life, he would tell her that's why he took her from that place. He would tell her that he saw the rage of a people in a girl barely ten years old. After that, her life was dedicated to blood and glory.
She was trained in the art of assassination after that. Her tutor (and savior) taught her the true history of their people, and also the truth of how the world worked; their world worked. It engaged a darkness and hate in her heart, and it slowly turned her into a time-bomb. Luckily for her, her tutor spotted the well of potential High Magick she possessed, and demanded she never exercise it unless in perfect solitude; OR around those that understood what needed to be done to save their people from their "accepted" tyranny. Once she grew into a woman, she was lethal, and unforgiving to those she deemed enemies of her people. And that included any of the cursed that helped the nobility slaughter their own kind. It got to the point that she would kill "nobles" that weren't really nobles but given a promise of immunity for selling out their own kind as meat. She read, and studied endlessly; gaining knowledge from all possible sources. Her tutor made a mistake back then; denying a true noble his feast from a young man, barely fifteen. And with that, she stood within the ranks of her fellow soldiers; forced to watch his public execution. Right at that moment, her fate was set; and even if she failed, the nobility would feel her wrath.
She didn't speak much after those days. Keeping her thoughts, and ideas to herself unless absolutely necessary. Since then she fought for her people, inevitably creating quite the laundry list of feats, and accomplishments. Once the rumors of her "parents" demise found its way into the mens ears, they took to calling her the blood orphan. Of course; they didn't dare say this anywhere within earshot of the noble class, or anyone that was known to cohort with them openly, but it was a passive way of nothing that they cared.
Now, she heads her own small squadron, which goes by the Black Edge. They specialize in reconnaissance, and clandestine operations. While she wouldn't dare note such a thing, they are a invaluable wartime asset.
Strength: ●●○○○
Endurance: ●●○○○
Agility: ●●●●●
Intelligence: ●●●○○+1
Perception: ●●○○○
Willpower: ●●○○○
High Magic: ●○○○○○○○○○
Mana: 10/10
Abilities: Dark StepAn assassination technique ~ Dark Step mutes the users footsteps to an almost inaudible level, making them a potentially lethal figure in a battle.
Tracker SightA tracking technique ~ Allows the user to track a target even in the black of night by enhancing ones sight, smell, and hearing.
Birthplace: Voltain
Gender: Female
Race: Vampyre
Age: 27
Affiliation: Voltain; The Vampyre people
Personality: Open-minded and curious. Slow to anger, equally slow to cool. Has the capability to be extremely vengeful. That said, she's quiet and tentative around new people, but will defend her friends, and people with her very life.
Physical Description: Disheveled. scraggly long black hair, with strange birthmarks under the bottom of her eyes that make it seem like she had cried fire at some point. Otherwise lithe and tall.
History: Voltain was the start of her journey. Narkissa grew up daughter to a butcher, and seamstress. She was taught the basic use of a blade from a young age by her Mother, and after that from the young men in the village. She was never what one would consider "girly". In fact, she had sent most of her peers running home with busted lips, and black eyes. For a time, she knew a simple life, and found a peaceful retreat in her home. That is until she met Adhamh. It rained that night, and she woke from a dead sleep with a start. Sweat seemed to encase her frame as her heartbeat quickened for no apparent reason. She walked to her door, opening it to a series of hushed murmurs, and condescending snickers. She found herself at the top of her stairs, in a room of about twelve people, including her parents. A man she had never seen before, but knew a little bit about stood perched over her Mother; his hand balled in a fist on a tuft of her Mother's hair. "M-..Mother?" she questioned, feet shuffling as she fearlessly traversed down the steps.
The man ripped away from her, spraying blood across the wall adjacent to where her Mother sit. Her Father was sitting right next to her, and seemed distraught when he laid his eyes on his daughter. She figured out later he was simply trying to get it all over with so that she didn't fall victim to the nobles. Adhamh, one of her own ancestors gave her a vicious look. She watched him so intently that she didn't even notice the soldier behind her. He grabbed her by her collar, dragging her closer to this specter. 'This one also my liege?' he questioned, to which the obvious leader of the group gave a dull smile. She couldn't contain herself and let out a blood-curdling scream. She screamed until she felt a dull knock on the back her head, and just like that she was in a daze. She remembered her Fathers voice pleading with the men. It seemed as though he was offering himself to save the life of his only child.
She didn't stay knocked out for long, and in fact woke up in time to see the men shuffling out of the room. Only one stayed; watching her with tawny eyes. All she could do was watch as they dragged her parents bodies away, and cry. Given, these tears were not those of a child who had been robbed for their candy, or scolded for running too fast at home. These tears were silent, and filled with a rage. Why her parents? The man stood there, watching this young girl shiver with rage, and a thought hit him. It was the thought he would trickle into her brain for years to come. Their people were better once. Their people were strong, and fearless. Later in life, he would tell her that's why he took her from that place. He would tell her that he saw the rage of a people in a girl barely ten years old. After that, her life was dedicated to blood and glory.
She was trained in the art of assassination after that. Her tutor (and savior) taught her the true history of their people, and also the truth of how the world worked; their world worked. It engaged a darkness and hate in her heart, and it slowly turned her into a time-bomb. Luckily for her, her tutor spotted the well of potential High Magick she possessed, and demanded she never exercise it unless in perfect solitude; OR around those that understood what needed to be done to save their people from their "accepted" tyranny. Once she grew into a woman, she was lethal, and unforgiving to those she deemed enemies of her people. And that included any of the cursed that helped the nobility slaughter their own kind. It got to the point that she would kill "nobles" that weren't really nobles but given a promise of immunity for selling out their own kind as meat. She read, and studied endlessly; gaining knowledge from all possible sources. Her tutor made a mistake back then; denying a true noble his feast from a young man, barely fifteen. And with that, she stood within the ranks of her fellow soldiers; forced to watch his public execution. Right at that moment, her fate was set; and even if she failed, the nobility would feel her wrath.
She didn't speak much after those days. Keeping her thoughts, and ideas to herself unless absolutely necessary. Since then she fought for her people, inevitably creating quite the laundry list of feats, and accomplishments. Once the rumors of her "parents" demise found its way into the mens ears, they took to calling her the blood orphan. Of course; they didn't dare say this anywhere within earshot of the noble class, or anyone that was known to cohort with them openly, but it was a passive way of nothing that they cared.
Now, she heads her own small squadron, which goes by the Black Edge. They specialize in reconnaissance, and clandestine operations. While she wouldn't dare note such a thing, they are a invaluable wartime asset.
Strength: ●●○○○
Endurance: ●●○○○
Agility: ●●●●●
Intelligence: ●●●○○+1
Perception: ●●○○○
Willpower: ●●○○○
High Magic: ●○○○○○○○○○
Mana: 10/10
Abilities: Dark StepAn assassination technique ~ Dark Step mutes the users footsteps to an almost inaudible level, making them a potentially lethal figure in a battle.
Tracker SightA tracking technique ~ Allows the user to track a target even in the black of night by enhancing ones sight, smell, and hearing.
