Aya the Small

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

I do bite, if I'm asked nicely(or not nicely~)... ;D
-cough- o3o ahem~<3

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

@RaijinslayerOooouuuu :3 Me likey. Yeah Thuraya is from a 3.5 campaign. She was just a basic Fighter class, but from my character sheet I just found... xD her feats at the time;
Monkey Grip (weapon can be a size bigger than her)
Power Attack (subtract from attack and add it to damage)
Improved Natural Armour (exactly what it sounds like.. xD)
Horde Breaker (cleave cleave cleave!!! :DD (was a races of war feat, I think it was at a BAB of +6 she could cleave as many times as she got an AoO)
Combat Reflexes (bonus AoO = Dex bonus, which was nice for Horde Breaker xDD)

So all together, you actually have her style in this RP. xD

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

@RaijinslayerAww ; w ; thank youu <33 I do like your characters though, as well. x33 haha. ON THE NOTE OF MY SIGNATURE. xD
This has actually been a gif that represents Thuraya in a way. I used her in D&D a while back, before picking her up as a "proper" RP character, and her handle animal was like in the negatives. xD and her ride was also not so hot... so.. this.. uh.. yeah we joked about it for a while then I found the gif and was like "OMG LOOK IT'S HER" XDDDD

@The Darklight ProjectYes, yes, I see. Now stfu. xD

@PetiteAmbivert ; u ; No you. <333

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

Hey! O: I did the thing that makes me not feel inadequate for this RP!....
xD -has been feeling bad about post lengths until now-

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

Thuraya Azize

Thuraya hadn't said much to anyone. Hadn't found the need. Everyone went about their business, and she went about her own. Be it catching up with friends, talking strategy... gambling their night away - The woman didn't care. She didn't care to learn about any of these people, and made it quite clear she wasn't there to make any friendly relationships with anyone from the lot. Orders were orders and that was that.

As they went toward the border, Thuraya kept her place, and stayed silent. Though it was clear there was more on her mind than orders, more than the inevitable battle to come. She seemed distant, thoughtful, curious and angered. Her lips were tight and eyes narrowed, looking to the ground as they traveled. What was on her mind..?

Exactly what she saw when they'd arrived. Across the way- among the H'kelan forces, were faces she'd not seen since childhood. Ones she'd tried to forget. Of course, much like her, they looked different. Larger, more fit and battle-ready than they were as younglings. They were all much larger than her, both the men and women. More toned, seemingly more ready than she could ever hope to be. She looked down at herself as the conversation ensued between King and Queen, taking in her own features for a moment, but was taken out of her trance as an arrow's whistle through the air came to an abrupt stop next to her foot.

Emerald eyes gazed at it for only a few seconds, then rose to the archers. The others on her own side moving forward to engage in combat. She waited for her chance - as the others started the battle, her eyes went from in front of the Barcean royals to the side. The mad king and the immediate forces at his side were not her concern now. Those she'd gazed upon at first were making their way in, and she would be the one to meet them.

'You have no ties. They tormented you. They left you for dead...' she thought to herself as she turned and lifted her sword, feet bracing hard against the ground as she made her way forward at a quick sprint from the start. 'They never helped, they never would have understood anyway! Never would have even tried to!' hands grasped tighter at the great-sword's handle, lifting it slightly off her shoulder to swing once in range. Her tail out straight behind her as she ran, and with a quick hop at her full speed, her tail curled in and her blade swung in a great cleave.

It met with a clang against the largest male's blade that was slightly smaller than her own. He would have a stronger swing than her, and likely much faster. "So this is what you've all become then!" she said as she was forced backward through the air, skidding across the ground on her feet, right hand touching down to the ground as she locked her eyes on the male. "Sister! Why, it's been much too long!... We thought you'd be dead by now."

She scowled, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed. "It would take much more than neglect to take me!"
"Then allow us to do what Mother had tried. Let us show you her wrath ourselves! What fury we had endured when you ran!"

She heard the others all speak words such as 'coward', but she had been taught for many years now that she was no coward. Given the care she'd needed, she had grown strong. 'Stronger than any of them...' Feet pushed her forward then, and as she was surrounded by the others, she took a deep breath and allowed herself to leap, a spinning slash to truly start things off. "To think you once helped me, Kadir!" laughter sounded from the largest male, and he struck her blade with his own, lunging his tail her way.
Her body swung itself as much as it swung her sword about. Dodging blades, deflecting strikes and keep herself in motion, only stopping when necessary.

Kadir, as she'd called him, was the first to fall. As she ducked under two blades crossing horizontally her tail lunged forward. While she figured the lot of them would be immune to her venom, the piercing of her large stinger would do damage in it's own right - and it did. Blood dripped from her tail, and was spewed forth from the man's mouth as he quickly lost strenght and fell off the tip to his knees and eventually fully to the ground after a little shove from her right hand. Left grasped the sword tighter. 'Kadir... The only one who would ever think twice about caring for me. How far you'd fallen. It is better this way."

Next, she turned her focus to a sister- "Dalia!" she called, the woman's eyes looked upon Thuraya and quickly widened as she noticed the smaller charge forward, sword quickly drawn to the side and across, a flip and the giant woman dodged with ease. Thuraya's arm brought her sword behind herself, the swish of a blade turned to a clang as she blocked an attack from behind. "Give up, Thuraya. You may have taken Kadir from us, but now Mother's fury fills us all!"

She gave a low hissing snarl and shook her head; "Fury will only drive you so far!" the next swing of her giant blade took half a tail and leg with it, Dalia crumpled to the ground, but pushed herself foward with her full leg and what was left of the other and tail to lunge at her youngest, smallest sibling. Thuraya stepped to the side with ease and knocked the woman down with the flat of her blade, kicking her sister aside and turning.

Two more brothers came at once along with a sister, 'Jammal, Gadi, Bahira...' she recalled their names as she ducked under a bladed fan and rolled from dual scimitars, worming her way from being crushed with a mace, or impaled by any of the three tails as she had done to their brother.

As her massive sword found it's way around her own body to deflect hits from their smaller weapons, including the break of Bahira's fan and the chipping of stingers on all sides, Thuraya hadn't noticed the disappearance of the last brother- "Farid..?" she asked softly, while keeping her eyes open, flowing with the motions to keep herself protected. It was when she managed to land a kick on Gadi that she noticed. As her brother stumbled back from her strike she noticed a sunken piece of earth, eyes widening. She stepped hard against the ground and felt it move beneath her and in that moment felt as though she'd already lost.

A hand reached up from beneath the earth that had sunk beneath her and grabbed her ankle, keeping her in place. It would take a moment for him to come out fully, this she knew, but she couldn't rely on her fancy movements to avoid them anymore. Mace came down on her tail and a broken fan was still bladed - she moved as best she could away from the blades but they found their mark of blood across her cheek. She moved past the pain in her tail with a look of wanting to throw up a little but managed to hold herself together. Body tensed and she pushed back then. Blade against scimitars to cleave Gadi nearly in two, Blood painting her and her siblings alike. She kicked at Farid's head as it poked up from the ground, with a satisfying snap. Her tail, while in pain curled up, knocking the mace down and she ducked to impale Jammal as she had Kadir.

She pulled her tail back and faced her sister, "Bahira..." she said as she stood up straight, sword gripped tightly, blood dripping from both her weapon and body alike. "Where is Riyad..?" she asked, though the larger woman giggled as a response.
"Oh, little Thuraya. You don't know how it works, still? After you ran the way you did?" She stepped closer, pulling out a second fan finally and shook her head. "He was eaten, just as you were scheduled to. He uh... He didn't make it up to Mother's standards, and... Well, you know how it is~!"

Thuraya's eyes widened and she went closer to Bahira. "So, you just... Let him die. Like you were going to let me."
"Survival of the fittest, Sister! It's not up to us! It's all by Mother's Will! She decides. She knows best! Now lay down and accept the fate you should've years ago!"
"No one decides my fate but me..."
"And what would you do? Kill me too? You've changed from coward to monster!"
"Monster... Heh, that one I could live with. As long as it's known... That "Mother" made the wrong choice. It's clear to me now... That none of you are stronger. And none of you ever deserved a better life than me."

Fan rose in an offensive position , broken fan in defensive, and Thuraya swung her sword heavily toward her sister. Another scar would form across the bridge of Thuraya's nose, blood flowed down her face, but she didn't stop. Sword swung in all directions. To anyone watching they'd think she had no form, no grace, but each strike was precise, each planned carefully before followed through, and eventually, she lunged, catching her sister on the large blade.

She stepped closer, the smallest of smiles across her bloodied lips, eyes closed as she lunged her tail into her sister's heart, pulling the sword out of her gut. "You didn't deserve it... And you didn't get it." Tail pulled out and she tossed the body to the ground with the others. She turned then toward the rest of the battle. Other H'kelans were cautiously making their way toward Thuraya, but they would be no challenge, she could already tell with how they looked at her as they came in. With these ties gone, she was no longer H'kelan. She could toss away her life before, knowing that her siblings had never wanted her back. Her "Mother" was someone she could ignore the existance of... Seryosa was her only family now, and with that in mind... fighting those of H'kela would be much, much easier.

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

Thuraya Azize

Thuraya winced in pain as she was moved, tensed as she was healed, tail twitching as the light shone over it. Would've been fine, tears had dried to leave room only for the pained wincing. That was, until she heard footsteps drawing closer. Her eyes opened slowly to see feet at her side, they shifted upward, head turning a little more to catch a glimpse of the face she hoped it wouldn't be. Seryosa stood above her and all she could think was 'shit...'

The words that came from the woman's lips first cut deeper than any wound she'd received that day... They were true - Thuraya had cried and she hated that fact above all else. Lips parted but before she could give any sort of excuse, she held back and listened further as orders were given. She let out a soft sigh and ler her eyes close again, nodding slightly. "Yes, Seryosa." She couldn't keep her promise, the least she could do now was go with them and see what they'd be up against. "I-.. I will not fail you again..."

A while passed, and healing completed. She was stiff still, to say the very least, but managed to get to her feet slowly, walked a fair distance to grab her blade and swung it up over her shoulder. It hit a little harder than she'd anticipated against the joint and she winced a bit more though was able to hide it for the most part as she walked back to Diane, giving a small bow in thanks. "Thank you for your help." she said softly, her eyes locking with the healer's for a moment. If she were to look back, she would see the pain still residing within her - a pain that could not be healed through her magicks, a suppressed one, that she shook off as she looked away from the woman to formally meet this.. Prince, she would be traveling with.

He was with Kisarin and Yihira... Also some other guy, but she didn't honestly care about that. The Scorpionfolk came up to the group and gave a breif bow toward the three she cared about, and let her eyes fall onto Cyril after a respectful look toward the two chiefs. "Greetings, highness." she said, her tone casual for speaking with royalty, clearly showing she had no interest in his title, even when using one to him. "I am Thuraya Azize... I've been instructed to accompany you and your sentinals, South." Her tone spoke clearly, she was not going for him, she was simply going because Seryosa told her to. She held no loyalty to the prince or respect for his sentinals, but would fight for them for the time being, that was all.

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

Thuraya Azize

Full Name: Thuraya Azize.
Nicknames/Titles: Raya.
Occupation: If necessary.
Birthday: July 21st
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 243lbs
Race: Nonhuman - Scorpionfolk
Sex/Gender: Female
Age: Twenty one.
Sexuality: Bisexual.
Place of Birth: H'kela.
Biography: From birth, things had not been so great, for the young Thuraya Azize. She was a runt among her siblings, yet was given the benefit of the doubt for a few years, to see if she would grow strong like the others. In this time, her mother made no effort to truly care for her, instead looking after her brothers and sisters to make sure they would grow strong like her. Thuraya was left to forage for her own food with minimal help from one of her stronger siblings, and by the age of five, her mother decided she'd be better off dead. She was to be eaten that day, but having seen it coming, Thuraya decided instead, to run. She ran as far as she could in the one day, finding herself in a cave that she would call home for the night. It was alright at first, but soon found that without her siblings' help, hunting and gathering food was going to be an issue.
Several years passed and she clung to her life, swearing to prove her mother wrong. That she could be strong like the others, that she would fight and survive. She managed to just get by. Without money she couldn't live as a true citizen of any civilization, instead taking to the streets, eating left overs that were thrown out, always making her way farther North. Farther from her once-was home, from her family.
A few years of this life style she found herself entering cooler territory. She'd left H'kela and entered Gurata. It was here, in the cold, that her mind started to have thoughts of giving up. She was dirty, malnourished, and dying. Yet despite that, she pressed onward. Her dress torn, tail's armour cracked, body covered in infected wounds, she laid for rest, and thought perhaps she wouldn't wake up. It was that day, however, that she had been found. Fifteen years old, and at last someone had noticed her; a woman by the name of Seryosa. She said that she was a new chief, and when Thuraya had mentioned she'd been alone for ten years she was taken in, cleaned, given food, and her wounds were taken care of. It took over a year for her to recover fully, yet when she did, she took up training to fight, and with this new care she'd been put under, she grew strong. Her will carried her farther than anyone had anticipated from she who claimed to be a runt, and was soon bravely fighting to protect what she had learned to love as her true family.
Personality: Depending on how well one knows Thuraya, is how she would act, as is with most people. If she doesn't know you, she is fairly quiet. Reserved and secretive making her a little mysterious. She appears as a strong force that doesn't seem to care much about those around her, only wishing to get whatever she's doing, done.
On the other hand, if one were to get closer to her, she would begin to show her true colours. Thuraya is a very up-beat, excitable young woman but can be a bit hard-headed and hot-headed. She has no qualms with getting her hands dirty, and often times thinks only about what treasures she might find in her adventures. Not to say she isn't a caring individual, of course. If one manages to actually become her friend, she will protect them to the ends of the world, but getting to that point is the hard part. Until one reaches close-friend status, she simply brushes people off. If a traveling companion, she will watch their back, but would not truly risk herself for their sake.
Likes: Sunbathing, training, being able to protect others, her own strength, traveling.
Dislikes: Showing her own weakness, cold weather, being alone, the dark.
Skills/Strengths: Thuraya is a very fast individual. Her tail is her advantage, allowing her to throw it's weight around to also be agile like a cat, though it looks nothing like that when she's running(Due to her tail only really being able to curl or uncurl with very slight movements left or right). As a scorpionfolk, she is able to burrow underground and move efficiently enough, though is roughly a third of her speed if she were on top of the ground. She is physically and mentally strong, training endlessly to become someone who may one day protect everyone she holds dear, with a will that is near impenetrable.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Thuraya is often cocky in battle, leading her to make stupid moves and silly mistakes. Her strength is not always enough to see her through to victory, because of this. With a will of steel, she is still easily persuaded if the right methods are used. Her love for those close to her are a good point- if they are in danger, it is very likely that she would change her decisions to help keep them safe. That said, she is also rather hot-headed and quick to anger while in the heat of battle. Also, she tries to look cool sometimes and close doors with her tail's stinger, but it gets stuck... more than embarrassing.
Weapons/Equipment: Thuraya is partial to her giant great sword, Sylvia. It appears to be made for someone roughly twice her height, but she uses it with grace, regardless. She prefers to wear a wrapped top and short skirt under a scalemaille chest piece. A chain belt hangs at her hips holding plates that hang over her thighs, with boots that have platemaille in front, and scale in back, chainmaille joints, and matching gloves. All are battle-worn, yet retain a shine, showing their rusty pink colour.
Appearance: Thuraya is a slightly-above-average-height young woman. She has a sandy skin tone, with primarily white hair, with dirty blonde low-lights throughout. Her eyes are a bright, glimmering emerald green. Her body is athletically toned though holds her slight hour-glass figure. From the base of her spine, runs a long (roughly four feet in length) scorpion tail, which she tends to leave trailing behind her, curled to hover roughly five inches above the ground.
Theme Songs: Rigid Paradise - TAMUSIC
Desert Journey - Gladiator Soundtrack
Other: N/A
Main or Side: Main.
Username: Aya the Small

Krissandria Elliott

Full Name: Krissandria Guenevere Estelle Julian Elliott
Nicknames/Titles: Lady Elliott, or simply Elliott. She has been known to be called “Krissy” but she doesn't care much for nicknames.
Occupation: Queen's Guard.
Birthday: April 13th
Height: 5'11”
Weight: 130lbs
Race: Elf.
Sex/Gender: Female.
Age: One hundred thirty seven. To a human she may appear roughly twenty five.
Sexuality: Bisexual.
Place of Birth: Barcea.
Biography: From a young age, Krissandria was praised. As far as her parents were concerned, she may as well have been an only child – Though she does have a younger sister. She was, to those around her, completely superior to her younger sister, however, and was focused on because of this. Brought to greatness through training with her father for physical combat, schooled in the ways of magick with her mother, both teaching her the knowledge she would need to rise to her full potential.
By the age of twelve, she had started training with others who were not her father in physical combat training, as well as taking on her solo training as well. She grew strong, intelligent, capable, and by eighteen, had decided to fully follow her father's footsteps in the Barcean Military. She would give her body and blade for the kingdom as her father had done for over a century before her. It was then, that her life truly began.
At the age of forty, her younger sister, Alicandriella was born. It was a joyous occasion, and for a few years, everything seemed... right. She took a big part in helping their parents raise little Alice when she had the time, though as she grew older, things seemed off – Krissandria could feel a great power in the girl, but she was unable to do even the most simple spells, she was too frail for any sort of physical training, but her potential in magic seemed very high. This made it all the more odd, that her sister didn't seem capable in doing much of anything. This lead to Krissandria being praised and Alice nearly forgotten- though not entirely. Her sister would care for her, where her parents did not.
Many years passed, and a new king came into power- Olain Serio. During his reign, the war with H'kela started back up. She and her father were both sent out, and she worried for her sister alone with their mother.
She had begun blocking out her emotions during battle. She learned to strike down foes without hesitation. Rising through the ranks relatively quickly, she headed west to take part in the conflict with H'kela, Krissandria pushed her fears aside, and with them a bit of her humanity. She'd fought there, to protect her home and people within it, but most important to her; her younger sister. However she'd lost much in such a short time. Her father died just metres away from her, that's when all her emotion started flooding back. The fight was no longer something she had down to a practiced strategy. It had become less of an intricate science, and brought down to a very simple, low-level math; Axe plus H'kelan, equaled survivability and revenge.
It wasn't until after the battle where her father had died, that she'd realized just how many had fallen around her that day. Both sides of the battlefield were filled with carnage. Bodies strewn, she could almost hear the calls of the dead. They haunted her on her way back to the Barcean capitol, knowing that she would need to deliver the news to her mother and sister. She was not without her own wounds, mind; the right side of her face had been struck, leaving a rather nasty scar.
Upon her return, she was praised only for a moment by her mother. Long enough to realize that she came bearing bad news of the whereabouts of the woman's husband. She handed her her father's sword and took her leave without a word to Alice, who had been out in the yard practicing her music. A look was all, a small smile at seeing she was alright, and Krissandria headed to the castle to receive additional medical attention as well as give any reports needed.
After over a decade of fighting, she was pleased to hear that the new Queen would be bringing about peace. If only it would be so simple, though if it was hope for the people, the elven woman wouldn't speak against it. If it would bring a light back to Barcea, then she would accept, and help any way she could.
Her years of fighting would be put to use less and less as the next few years passed, and eventually she was promoted to Queen's Guard. Taking pride in the position, she travelled home to tell her mother of the news – it was then, that she learned of her mother's illness. Despite all the neglect, Alice had been tending to her, yet within a few months, their mother had died. Promising to work hard, for Alice, Krissandria told her sister to live as she wanted, and she would always be there for her, even if she was ever called back into war, she would return to her.
Personality: Krissandria is a very official woman, who takes her work seriously. She gives herself, body and blade in the name of Barcea, while things are now not quite as they were before she would still gladly give her life to protect the land and it's people. She comes off as very cold, but in truth cares deeply for the well-being of all, yet doesn't like emotion to get in the way of her work. Doing as she's told it's been questioned if she has a mind of her own. While she does think for herself, she isn't one to question orders often, knowing that anything she is sent to do, would be for the good of Barcea.
She is not one to outwardly enjoy jokes or pranks, often times meeting them with straight lips and furrowed brow, gently scolding those who would perform them, though it has been known for her to give a light chuckle afterwards, and maybe even keep the smile for a while...
Likes: Protecting others, fighting for the good of her nation, being in the company of others, her sister's desserts...
Dislikes: Failure, informality, disrespect, those who would oppose Barcea.
Skills/Strengths: Krissandria is adept at magic and physical combat. She is best with pole-arms and healing magic. She is level-headed at nearly all times, able to make critical decisions while under great pressure and stress. She's not easily swayed, and has been known to put up good arguments for her own persuasions.
Flaws/Weaknesses: While usually level-headed, Krissandria is very prone to putting her own life on the line without a second thought when it comes to her sister, and those of the Serio family. Her vision is not the greatest, due to only having one eye, which puts her at a disadvantage, if anyone is to come toward her on her right side, she may not notice if there is a lot of noise preventing her from hearing them, as she has no peripheral vision.
Weapons/Equipment: A narrow battle axe with spiked end for either slashing(choppy chop! :D) or piercing damage. Her armour is light, and often worn underneath of her clothing, to appear as though she isn't armoured at all. Preferring a light chainmaille with thin plates along her arms and legs that fit comfortably beneath her clothes.
Appearance: Krissandria is a serious-looking elf. She has fair skin, an icy, sky-blue eye and lips that only form a smile around those she is close to. Her other eye(right side) is covered by a patch. Other times her expression is straight and professional. She is rather curvy for an elf, yet still is quite lithe. Her platinum-blonde hair reaches to about her waist, but is always kept up off her shoulders in a tight bun at the mid of the back of her head. While serious and battle-worn, there is no doubt about the beauty she holds.
Theme Songs: All Our Days – RWBY Soundtrack
Flight of the Silverbird – Two Steps From Hell
Other: Alicandriella is her everything. While she takes her work very seriously, she would drop everything for her little sister.
Main or Side: Main.
Username: Aya the Small

Alicandriella Elliott

Full Name: Alicandriella Leanne Sierra Marie Elliott
Nicknames/Titles: She also goes by Alice, Ali, Al or Ella.
Occupation: Baker/Cleric in Training.
Birthday: May 13th
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 115lbs
Race: Elf.
Sex/Gender: Female.
Age: Ninty seven, appears roughly eighteen.
Sexuality: Heterosexual.
Place of Birth: Barcea.
Biography: When Alice was born, she was brought into a warm, loving family environment. She had an older sister who was excited for her birth, and her parents were very supportive and loving... Until she was ten. Alice had a lot of potential, and it was shown from her birth to this point. Within her was an immense amount of magic that those around her could feel just being in her presence, though controlling it was a completely different story.
She was placed in lessons for healing with the high priestess of the clergy her mother was part of. These lessons lasted many years with little to no progress being made. This of course, began to take a rather large emotional toll on the young elf, especially when the priestess told her mother that she could not be trained. It was then, that while her sister and their father were off training their physical combat abilities, Alice stayed home with their mother, who had taken it upon herself to try and train her.
More time passed, and in that time, she could see herself failing with every step, and see the disappointment it was causing her family. Slowly she had been pushed to the back of their minds, her sister on the receiving end of all praise from their parents, while Alice would sit outside, practicing her music, her one saving grace with pleasing her mother. She was talented at playing many string and woodwind instruments, favouring her mandolin and penny-whistle. She had never given up on her healing, however.
As time passed, she began taking up other hobbies, one of her main ones being baking. She started simple, with cookies and cakes, eventually working her way into treasured delicacies that all enjoyed. This hobby went into overdrive along with other cooking abilities, when her father and sister went off to war. She was worried about them, and could use anything to get her mind off of what could happen to either or both of them. She also started taking more walks through the forests, finding herbs and other plants with medicinal properties that she would learn to put into her baking. One way or another, she would heal, and she would achieve her mother's approval. It was there, in the woods, that she started making new friends. The animals of the woods seemed to take a liking to her, and she would talk to them as she took her walks, asking them about the different plants, singing along with their nature song.
The day of her sister's return, Alice was out in the yard practicing her music, playing her mandolin and singing with the birds. She'd gathered a small audience of her animal friends, singing a song of happiness and hope. Birds and bugs singing along, others such as deer and rabbits grazing a short ways away - it was always quite a sight to see, and such a lovely thing to hear, but to her, she was simply just practicing something her mother wanted her to, in the hopes she might please her with something.
It was later in the evening, when Ali returned into the house, that she found her mother with the blade of her father that Krissandria had brought back. Tears still filling the woman's eyes. For the first time in many years, her mother looked upon her with emotions beyond disappointment. She invited the young elf to sit with her, and they sat in silence for a while, Ali being embraced by her. It was an odd feeling, though she returned the loving hold on her. Unfortunately, it didn't last. After their grieving period, her mother became even harder on her, pushing her again to study healing. There was no progress, though she did seem mildly impressed with the baked goods containing the medicinal herbs.
At the age of eighty six, Alice was forced into a care-taker position, her mother fallen ill. She did everything she could for her, including making the best baked goods she'd ever made, perfecting her craft of medicinal baking in the last years of her mother's life. Yet nothing was strong enough to remove the illness. It was toward the end of this time that Krissandria return home to deliver the good news of being promoted to Queen's Guard. While incredibly happy for her sister, she was not herself. For the next few months, Kriss mad more frequent visits home, and once, for a week straight, she stayed with Alicandriella. The second day of the week, their mother passed, and at the end of their week together, Kriss told Alice to live as she wanted. With time, she began to do this, opening a bakery in the capitol with her sister's help financially at first, which soon became a quite well-known shop for both it's medicinal and non-medicinal sweets.
Personality: Alice is a sweet, polite young woman. Despite her hardships through life she always shows others kindness. She is a very free spirit, able to say what is on her mind without difficulty. She's quite an emotional girl, expressing herself exactly how she's feeling, be it happiness, anger, confusion, sorrow. Ali's one to believe in second chances... And third... and fourth... and tenth... Though despite her giving many chances to people to redeem themselves, she doesn't ever forget what has been done. Simply forgives eternally, which of course, has it's downsides. She is trusting, and has very strong belief that there is good in literally everyone, and makes it her goal to find that good in even the darkest of souls.
She is actually the most precious of cinnamon rolls. As sweet as those she bakes at her shop.
Likes: Baking, music, helping others, friends and family, travelling.
Dislikes: Rude or mean people, bitter foods, violence and fighting.
Skills/Strengths: Alicandriella is a cleric in training, as such she knows many things that have healing properties, and can do very, very, very mild healing spells. Her true strength is in baking, though. She has the ability to add medicinal herbs to something as common and tastey as cookies to make getting better taste great and not be a pain - many people often buy these from her shop for children who won't take medicine.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Literally everything else. Ali is clumbsy, trusting of the wrong people, forgiving to those who don't deserve it, and she can't even protect herself properly when things go poorly. Her healing magic is weak to the point of being nearly non-existant. She can also be a bit absent minded at times while on her walks to gather herbs or other little crafty things like pinecones and flowers, which has more than once, landed her injured in holes and ditches.
Weapons/Equipment: Krissandria tried to teach her in the art of archery but it went poorly. She now carries a bow when travelling but can't aim very well. She also has taken a liking to maces, though many of them are too heavy for her to lift - her sister got her one made of mythril, though even then it is quite heavy and takes her quite a bit of energy to swing it just once.
Appearance: Ali is very small. She's taller than most other women she's met, but is beyond lithe and looks rather frail. She has fair skin, sky-blue eyes and long, straight golden-blonde hair that reaches just to her waist often times left down the most up, being a braid or two that act as hair bands. She has a seemingly contagious smile when happy, and even when she's not at her happiest, she still tends to dress in pale greens and pinks, long hoop-skirts that are at the very least, half-way between her knees and ankles, feet covered with brown leather boots with no heel(when she wears shoes, anyway). Over her blouses, she often wears underbust corsets or cinchers, though somtimes does go without, showing that they don't actually alter her form at all. Alice also wears a fair amount of jewelry - silver bangles on both wrists, a couple rings of varying shapes, sizes and colours, as well as many earrings and long chain necklaces with varying charms.
Theme Songs: Have You Ever Seen Me? - Nobuo Uematsu / Risa Ohki
Once You Meet Her - Nobuo Uematsu / Risa Ohki
Other: Ali is cute! I:
Main or Side: Main.
Username: Aya the Small

Dimitrius Turner

Full Name: Dimitrius Alexander James Turner
Nicknames/Titles: Dimi, Dimitri and by only one will he accept "Tritri" as a name. Titles once included Lord, though he now prefers "Sir" for various reasons.
Occupation: Musician / Resident annoyance.
Birthday: August 18th.
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 176lbs
Race: Vampire.
Sex/Gender: Male.
Age: Appears roughly twenty, is actually just over three hundred years old.
Sexuality: Pansexual.
Place of Birth: Barcea.
Biography: Dimitrius grew up in a good home, with a good family. They cared for him as he did them, and all seemed well in the world. Their land was beautiful and was filled with opportunities for him and his younger sister. They were wealthy, and had everything they needed and wanted. While one would think this would raise spoiled, bratty children, it was quite the opposite. Dimitrius was content just to have his studies and music, taking up both violin and piano at a very young age, as well as his vocals, later adding many more instruments to his arsenal.
He was very close to his sister, in fact she often accompanied his musical pieces with her own vocals, harp or both. This became their main way of bonding into their late childhood. When Dimitrius was thirteen, however, their bonding times would come to a quick end. When he came home after a tutoring session he was left to find the bloody mess in the main foyer of their home, in the middle of it, the body of his mother.
He searched then, for his father and sister, but was glad to not find his father at all, when he found his sister curled under a counter in the kitchen, behind the doors of a cupboard. She told him what happened; that their parents had gotten into an argument, and that their father had flown into a rage, hitting her down and that was when his sister had fled the room to hide.
Still young, his mind went rather rash, quickly. Telling his younger sister to visit their neighbours, and good friends of their mother, tell them what happened and that he'd sent her. She nodded in agreement, but he didn't tell her where he would be going. In truth, he had no leads as to which direction to even go at first, so first he would start with that. He'd ask neighbours if they'd seen or heard anything, he'd head farther out based on these findings. Soon enough he was being told that his efforts would be in vain, that he'd never find the man he sought, and die trying.
By the age of fifteen, two years later, Dimitrius sought a closer friend of his father's, who was able to give a few more answers. Learning that apparently his father had gone into a rage during their last meeting, and they'd fought, before the Lord had fled the scene. There was something 'off' about the Lord who'd fled, and he felt that it was a bit of a demonic presence within him. Dimitrius took this information surprisingly well, and instead of worrying, he chose to request his father's friend to train him in the ways of combat. He was not a very strong boy, but in time he could learn skills to aid him, and he'd always been rather quick on his feet.
Training commenced the next day, after a proper meal, some tea and a good night's rest. In his time with the man who he also had come to know as friend, Dimitrius learned the art of swordplay well, favouring the rapier, so he opted to master the thin blade's style, which allowed him to use his speed efficiently, for quick, precise attacks. He'd spent two years training, knowing that if what his new friend said was true upon his arrival he stood no chance at stopping his father without the dedication he'd spent. He took very little time to rest during the two years, opting to train on his own, when his mentor needed rest, spending his final day with his friend in rest to regain any energy he would need.
He'd gathered and followed a few leads while still training, simply to stay on his father's tail best he could, and still it took four more years to find what he'd searched for all this time. Now twenty-one, he stood before his father, grown and determined. He asked questions, many unanswersd - why he'd killed his wife, why he'd left his children, why he'd attacked his friends as well. "I couldn't control myself then, and now I am stronger than you would imagine." the darkness in the man's heart was shown through the crazed look in his eyes as he gazed upon his son with a blood lust.
Determined to keep his promise of return to his younger sister, he would rid the world of the monstrosity that was their father, and before much more conversation, they engaged in combat.
With the knowledge he'd gained over the years, and what he would now see before him, the once beloved father Dimitrius knew was gone, and instead stood the demonic presence. A vampire with an unquenchable thirst. The battle was short-lived, however. He was no match for a demon. His practice with dodges and parries. precise strikes and quick lunges were nothing. Silver-lined blade burned at opponent's skin, and yet as a final strike, a lunge through the heart met with a tightly gripped hand around the young man's throat. Sword plunged further into his father's heart, and quickly felt an immense pain as his father bit harshly into his flesh. Fearful of death. Fearful of his throat being simply torn from it's place, he let loose a scream and pushed at his father, trying to get away yet at the same time, dragging the blade through the other man's body. Eventually, the two of them fell together, to the ground.
Darkness overcame his mind, the last thing he heard, the voice of his friend; "begone from this world... my friend." and the sound of blunt object through flesh. He felt nothing. It was not his own, and yet everything went blank afterward.
He awoke two months later, bandaged in bed, yet when he moved to get up, he felt the restraints on his wrists and ankles. When joined by his combat mentor in the familiar room that had been his own for two years while training, he sought answers; how he had survived, how he'd gotten there, how long he had been out, why he was now restrained - all were easy - he'd been turned, the same as his father, and in the two months he'd been there, he had been very much alive, very active in fact, and very... hungry. For his own safety, Dimitrius had been restrained and kept away from others; now that he was more conscious as himself, he would be able to start learning to control his new being.
Mind simply fell on his sister, he needed to return to her, but if what was said is true, then there was no way that he would be able to keep her safe. He felt not even his mentor would be safe for long, and that night, decided to find new strength, breaking free of his bonds, and fled the home, fled the village, fled from civilization.
After running for what seemed like forever, he came across a place - a place that looked like perhaps it might have something for him. Be it strangers to feast upon, or... anything. He'd been without anything to sate his thirst for some time, and was feeling the darkness creep into his mind again. He'd barely made it to the door, before he was met by a servant of some sort, he assumed, and collapsed. Taken inside, he was given what he needed to gain his strength, and was given the privilege of meeting with who he now, in his mind, owed his life for saving him and the countless innocents that he might have slaughtered as a result of being taken over again.
Karin Renata was her name. A young looking lady, clearly one who did not fear much, especially not him. He asked but one thing of her, and that was for a safe place, where he would not harm others. In return, he would become loyal to her. This was the day his trials of controlling himself began, and his hopes of meeting with his sister again, would be renewed. First, a letter to her, to let her know that he yet lived.
It would be another century before he found that she too, lived. He couldn't decide if her fate had been better than his own, but she seemed well. They've met but twice, since then, to now. but write often.
Personality: Dimitrius is a man of mixed emotions, yet only tends to show one. His thoughts go a million miles a second, and still is usually shown with a smile across his lips. This is can be a good or a bad thing, depending on the situation. He doesn't seem to care how bad a situation is these days, instead choosing to simply smile through it. Point out the silver linings of even the darkest things, missing people or objects, wars and bloodshed, even individual deaths. It makes him seem a little insensitive, yet if one is to look deeper into those eyes, they would see centuries of sorrow.
He spends a lot of time surrounding himself with music, as it's the only thing he truly has left from his childhood. He plays his violin the most, second is piano, then all the others. He also took up playing the harp, to remind himself of his younger sister. His music sets him at ease, and if one is to ever see him while playing (which is rare, as he usually shuts himself in his room while doing so), they would see his much more vulnerable, emotional side. His music truly shows everything he is.
While always masking his more vulnerable side with a somewhat inappropriate smile, that's not to say he isn't someone that you can talk to. He is always willing to lend an ear, or shoulder to cry on if one needs it, even if he doesn't know them very well. Taking these moments to refrain from saying anything, rather than something that might offend them. His advice is always heartfelt if asked for, and despite the lie that is his happiness, Dimitrius is a very honest, trustworthy man.
That said, he is not above playful flirting, and being a general ladies' man. He enjoys women and does nothing to truly hide this, though he does keep a much more gentlemanly approach to the matter than others might in an attempt to win their hearts just enough that he might get something out of it. He is not one to truly seek a fully committed relationship, though he is not against the idea entirely...
Likes: Playful flirting, helping others, all things musical, reading, being alone, his companion Seri-Viva.
Dislikes: Ignorant beings, what he's become, large crowds, being truly alone, those without an appreciation for art, human foods.
Skills/Strengths: Dimitrius is incredibly fast, and despite the common conception of vampires being unable to walk in sunlilght, he is one of many exceptions to this rule(though it does weaken him slightly, he will not die or burn in it. Well... unless out too long, but who's not suffered even the slightest of sunburns before?)
His main skills lay in his mind, rather than body however. He's charismatic and talented in both speech and musical entertainment, also he's been recently trying his hand at writing.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Dimitrius has forced himself to live in a perpetually happy state. While most wouldn't see this as a flaw, it can be shown at all the wrong times, smiles as people are hurt, laughter as they die, which of course, has gotten him into quite a bit of trouble over the last few centuries.
He is also incredibly cocky about a good many things. What comes back to bite him is when he gets cocky in combat, however. He is not physically strong, instead relying on his speed and precise movements.
As typical as it sounds, wood is a weakness. Though while most vampires would need to be stabbed through the heart with a stake, this still is true for him(who wouldn't die if you shoved a stake through the heart though, honestly?), but much worse. Even the tiniest sliver of a splinter can cause him immense pain, writhing on the ground a he tries to remove it.
He also at the smell or sight of mass amounts of blood, he can lose himself slightly if not properly sated before hand.
Weapons/Equipment: Dimitrius has a cane that holds his rapier within it. It has an ornate mithril hilt and blade that has silver within it's edge. This does make it extremely dangerous for him to wield, but is the best protection he's ever found(this is the same blade that he used to kill his father, and has done all he could to preserve it. Despite being a roughly three hundred year old blade, it looks as though it's been forged recently.
Appearance: Dimitrius is a tall, slender man. His face is narrow and slightly long, with sharp features. His nose is straight, centered and pointed at it's tip. Lips are thin, almond shaped eyes that glow a brilliant cerulean. His hair is a dark chestnut brown that hangs pin straight to his waist, pulled back in a low ponytail by a ribbon. He dresses formally at all times preferring a tail coat over vest over a frilled, long-sleeve blouse. Around his neck is often a loose ribbon with jeweled clasp, a bow tie or straight tie. Creased slacks and a pair of black shined dress shoes. He prefers a deep burgundy colour for his suits with a very pale salmon blouse, but has also been seen wearing many other colours as well, though always seem to keep to the darker tones of blues, purples and reds with pale blouse counterparts.
He is always, almost unnervingly clean. Not a single speck of dust or lint can be found on his clothes, and his hair is always neat without a single strand out of place.
Theme Songs: Vivaldi's Four Seasons - Winter
Other: Dimitrius has a crow named Seri-Viva who he taught to talk. She's a bit of a smart ass and always seems to be on anyone's side but his, though it's very clear that while she does this, she cares very much for him, as he does her.
The name "Seri" means splendor or brightness, and she was given this name because she brings a light and richness to Dimitrius' life. Viva is simply a shortened nickname of sorts of his sister's second middle name, Vivian.
Main or Side: Side(?.. xD not really sure)
Username: Aya the Small

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

@The Darklight ProjectNo you don't. You love me, you just hate to admit it.

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

Aww.. looks like I missed all the pun. D: This is what I get for not really being active in the OoC chat, I suppose... xD

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

Thuraya Azize vs Drosil Maeneld

Drosil couldn’t help but look on excitedly as they approached the battlefield, checking, double-checking, evne triple checking himself to make sure he was properly prepared for the battle ahead. He had forgone his usually robe for something more easily maneuverable, a thick leather jacket over similar-insulated long sleeved shirt, with thin woolen breeches and a few small pouches here and there. He even wore some armor, mostly in the case of his legs and arms, thick leather armor, and a rather dull-looking leather cuirass. All of his clothing was covered with runes of protection, fortune, and swiftness, as those were the three things he’d need of he was to succeed in today’s endeavor.

As the rules were announced to them all, Drosil found himself being measured up by an interesting individual, apparently another of the beastfolk, only they seemed to be part-scorpion. Her entire posture spoke of cockiness and the look on her face clearly stated that she didn’t seem to think much of Drosil, which he was rather fine with. It was always best to have your opponent over-estimate their own abilities, as then it’ll be easier to surprise them when the moment finally came. While he had the time to prepare, Drosil would place his staff in front of him,eyes closed as he tooka knee in what seemed like prayer, mutter silent whispers in the language of magic, each one resounding in his own mind with every syllable uttered. As he spoke, the runes that decorated his clothes would activated, shimmering in the light as they temporarily took on a golden hue.

As soon as the battle was called to start, however, his voice would quickly change as he let out a quick and sharp command in the voice of the crackling embers and raging wildfires, a duality creeping into his voice as the green in his eyes was overtaken by a shimmering, fiery red, small embers flitting from his hair as he pushed it back, bringing his staff to the fore ground as a cocky grin of his own spread across his face. If one were to look at the mage from the corner of their eye, his form would seem to shift and cange, switching between the man standing there and a more intimidating humanoid figure with red skin, charred horns, and large cloven hooves, fire licking at their body as they stared down their oppoenent.

“Come then, half-blood, show us the best you have to offer.” As he spoke, he cast out a hand to send forth a barrage of small stinging embers hurtling towards the scorpion-tailed woman. They would do little in terms of initial damage, but they were certainly hurt like hell if they came in contact with any skin and flesh. Drsoil would then proceed to back away, not intending to get in range of the scorpion woman’s blade and stinger anytime soon if he could help it.

Thuraya didn't move too quickly to engage when the word was given to start. Instead she took the time to watch, learn what she could about him, gather the information needed to proceed. Did she need to be cautious? Aggressive? Sneaky? Tactful? These were the things that ran through her head, though she did step forward slowly- As the embers came toward her, eyes widened and with a swift movement, her sword came off her shoulder and dug into the ground infront of herself. She ducked a bit behind it, mostly covered by the massive blade. A few stinging burns came across her shoulders and thighs but she'd managed to shield her face, the rest was coated in plate, chain and scalemaille.

As he spoke, her head peeked out from behind the blade and she gave him a genuine smile. So, he was a mage of sorts, clearly from his initial attack. Though she'd noticed something else- an illusion? The way he spoke lead her to believe otherwise... Though it was hard to make certain the voice and way of speech was not also part of his little illusion. Caution, regardless, would be taken, yet not so obviously.

Sword came up from the ground, and her feet took her off in a quick sprint toward Drosil. Her smile changed as she gained on him, first to a small smirk, then more sadistic as her feet carried her closer. Her tail straightened behind her, curling only if she needed to turn at all to follow him as he backed away. If he was going to back off and cast spells the whole time, it might turn into an issue. But that thought simply caused her to quicken her steps. Once in range - a slash of the sword, vertically, slightly to his side to lead him the best she could for a horizontal strike next.

How interesting, so she uses her tail to help her keep her balance when moving at high speeds, which makes it easier for her to swing that giant swords straight at my- WOAH!

Drosil's analysis was cut a bit short as his opponent attempted a vertical slash, the blade only barely missing him. Unfortunately, this caused for him to loose his balance a bit, keeping him from getting out of the way of the woman's next attack, a horizontal slash this time. Seeing no way to dodge, he went for the next best thing, casting a short spell on his staff as he thrust it to his side. Thuraya's greatsword would clash against his staff with a melodious ringing sound, like that of a crystalline bell being struck. The sound would continue as Drosil used one hand to divert the horizontal string over head while he ducked, the spell he'd cast on the staff causing it to temporarily float, saving him the trouble of watching his fingers.

While this was happening, one of his hands would burst into flames all of the sudden for no discernible reason, and by the wincing on Drosil face, it seemed to be affecting him. However, the reason for it was soon revealed as a red hand would appear behind the Scorpion woman, rushing forward to grasp her tail by the base of the stinger, radiating such intense heat that it would nearly burn her if it succeeded in it's maneuver. Once she was in hand, the arm would pull her away from Drosil, aiming to toss her a good distance away before dispersing in a burst of heat and fire. While this was happening, Drosil would be backing away, the staff returning to his hand as the flames on his arm died down. The cloth of his shirt had been burned away and he had a few minor burns as well, but if he'd managed to get the scorpion woman away from him, it was worth it.

"Focus." He whispered to himself, taking a breath before she raised his staff, the orb changing to a fiery orange color that was soon laced with silver. Slamming the staff into the ground, he'd bring forth 3 Sentry flame elementals, there silvery bodies bursting outwards to make a rather impressive display. He'd stay behind them, making sure to keep the motionless creatures between him and his opponent as he prepared to cast a more decisive spell. Chanting to himself in the that strange flame tongue again, he'd keep watch on his opponent, circling the elementals around her and hoping she wouldn't figure that just one good hit with her great sword would be enough to end his creations.

It was a surprise, for sure, when he managed to block her sword with a measly staff - though she had noted the magic as why it was possible. This would be an annoying opponent for sure. Emerald eyes glared daggers as she thought of how to proceed- it would need to be fast, but that thought was cut short. She felt a searing heat on her tail. Head moved to look just as it pulled her away. A small yell escaped her lips just before feet left the floor. Eyes closed as she was flung away, and tail straightened the best she could make it so she could let her body roll, rather than slide across the ground.

He was backing away again... This of course, wasn't going to fly. She quickly got herself up off the ground, and sprinted toward the man. Sprint nearly came to a skidding halt as the flames came up between them. She stared for only a moment before lifting her sword to the side and swinging across to cleave through and continued. Even if it hadn't destroyed his sentries her mind was set, and she would get him - she'd made a promise she wasn't about to break. She would win, if it was the last thing she did.

There would be no bigger cast. If she was to be his opponent, he would play by her rules now. Not his own... "Come on! Quit the light show and show me what you've really got!" she called out to him as her sword came in for a few more strikes- leading this time with horizontal and followed by vertical. He'd dodged to the side before and ducked under, but if she could simply bring her blade down over him, then that would be it! Behind her, her tail coiled for a moment, stinging still from the flame's heat, yet managed to uncurl enough to linger over her shoulder. After her vertical strike, her entire body would crouch, low to the ground. Tail striking forward at Drosil as she gave a small hiss.

Well, that plan going down in flames, pun very much not intended

Drosil continued his chant, going slower now as he had to keep his focus split between keeping the magic he was building stable and not getting diced to pieces by the determined scorpion-woman. As she charged to the flames, cutting down the Sentry elementals with ease raised his staff, aiming to blast her away with the spell, but quickly switched to the defensive with a low mental curse, continuing the chanting in order to contain the magic and keep it from mis-firing. She'd swing at him a few times, and each time he was forced to block her, as her reach and speed made it impossible to get enough distance to safely cast his spell. Not only that, but with each ringing clash of steel against crystal, he felt his grip loosening as his fingers and arms began to lose their feeling. His muscles were not use to such constant abuse, and soon enough, they would give out at the worse possible time.

The horizontal strike would knock the staff from his arms, as well as slashing through his cuirass and biting into his chest. The pain caused his teeth to clench together for a second, the area around him heating up as the magical energy began to leak out of him, but he continued his chanting as he saw the overhead coming down on him. His voice never breaking, his left hand would quickly burst into flames again, and a fiery portal would launch outward from a space next to him to grab the descending blade, holding it place with relative ease, though from the look on Drosil's face, it wasn't so easy on him to maintain this magic. And then they would both make their move, Drosil reaching towards the gun on his hip and Thuraya crouching low to the ground.

A shot and a scream of pain would ring out as they both struck at the same time, his flying out of the barrel towards her shoulder at the same time that her own would strike his. The stinger would dig in deep, meeting some resistance from the rune-enchanted clothing, but ultimately sheathing itself rather firmly into his flesh and even managing to make it's way into the joint between his shoulder and arm. However, if his shot had managed to make it's way into his opponent's flesh, then she'd have a bit to worry about as well. A rune would be emblazoned on her flesh, sending an intense burning pain running through her body. And finally, the worst thing that could happen would happen, as Drosil's spell suddenly flared outwards in a rather violent explosion of heat and force, pushing both foes back quite aways from each other. Drosil's body would go into the air before hitting the ground hard, skidding across the arena floor before coming to a halt. For a moment, he seemed to be unconscious, his form silent and still, until one of his hands started to scramble along the ground, struggling to push him up off the ground.

Drosil's skin was covered with lacerations and developing bruises, and if his troubled breathing was any indication, he was suffering from either a broken or fractured rib. Not only that, but his right arm was a bloody mess of burned, blackened flesh and bleeding red cracks. However, despite these injuries, he managed to stand up from the ground, his breathing rough and ragged as he looked up towards his foe, a smile on his face as he chuckled to himself, wincing from the pain of his protesting ribs as he walked towards them.

"Well. . . I must say, that was . . . rather exciting. Sadly, I seemed to be very much outmatched as I currently am. So please, let me slip into something . . .more fitting for this type of fighting." Drosil's face would twist into a cruel grin, one he's practiced many, many times before that day as he began to commit the switch. With each step, dark shadows and brilliant red flames would erupt from his feet, coiling around him like a nest of ferocious vipers until there was nothing left but an inferno of black flames, his form completely hidden with it's destructive caress. However, it wasn't for long, as the inferno would quickly die out, leaving behind something even more frightening in it's place. Towering over with a glare holding no small amount of dark rage and barely repressed killing intent, stood a monster that took a form barely resembling that of a mortal man. The black armor would shine as flames would flicker at the edges ever so faintly, it's clawed hands clenching and unclenching as it seemed to be struggling with something deep with in it's twisted mind. But the worse part of the beast was that behind it's helmeted head were two burning white eyes filled with such a feeling of rage and darkness that it would probably make smaller men wet themselves in fear.

What Thuraya wouldn't know, however, was that while the flaming inferno had raged, a spell had been cast by Shadar to make himself exude and aura that breed fear and self-doubt. When looked upon, the weak-willed would flee and even the strong-willed would find themselves intimidated by the towering figure more than they normally would.

"Well then, girl, you wanted me to show you what I really got . . ." Shadar would mutter darkly as he reached to his back to draw his own greatsword, it's black blade gleaming in the light of fires that danced across Shadar's midnight scales. It's was likely equal in length to Thuraya's own weapon, but the blade wasn't that much thicker than that of an average sword. Easily flipping it around in his hands a bit, he'd level it at the scorpion woman, though something in his stance made it very clear that he didn't really fear her, or even respect her. "But in truth, I don't think you're shown enough skill to take me on at my full strength. But I'll humor you for now and make your defeat, or death, as quick as possible. No need to embarrass you in front of your precious chief now, is there?"