NAME:Rynia Veranieth Ly’staris
RACE:Vampire
AGE:Nearly two hundred years, with the apparent age of one in their early-thirties.
BIRTHPLACE:City of Amaranthine | Dremorian Empire
RELIGION:APPEARANCE:At just over six feet of a petite, yet lean build, Ryn’s stature is relatively short in comparison to the average female of her species. Still, her presence is generally never missed, even when she would rather remain invisible, especially due to the massive scars across most of the right side of her face. Marks to remind her of just how cruel and savage the world was. Or perhaps, still is. The wound also caused a severe vision impairment in her right eye, the pigment inherent to her race faded to a colorless and milky wash allowing only muted colors and hazy, blurred lights and images to enter.
Her midnight hair, once long, elegant, and reaching past her waist, was now short and scruffy. Out of sheer willingness to rid herself of a lineage she could not conform to, Ryn cut most of it off.
A tattoo of a runic symbol branded into the underside of her forearm showed that she is, and will forever, belong to House Ly’staris.
Wearing charcoal grays and blacks mostly, Rynia dresses modest enough not to attract the wrong kind of attention, showing very little skin, save perhaps her head and hands. Even so, the scar along the right side of her face is a point of contention and she tends to keep it covered if possible to thwart any awkward questions or unwarranted stares.
Her leather armor, which is indicative of the influential gothic-style architecture from its origins within the Dremorian Empire, is form fitted, flexible, quiet, and elegant in its design.
PERSONALITY:At first meet, Rynia tends to come off as brash, with little regard for those around her, using sarcasm to hide emotional baggage from past lives. But, once the hard shell of insecurity is breached, she can be more bearable to have around, perhaps even confiding in another. Although she very rarely talks about herself, if mention of her past ever came up, she would quickly snuff out the topic. Of course, if the person in question persisted, then it would be seen as outright disrespect and a challenge to her virtue and character, especially if coming from another of her kind.
SKILLS, STRENGTHS & TALENTS:A duelist by nature, Rynia has gained substantial skill and knowledge of swordplay, specifically with the rapier-style of weapon and an off-hand parrying dagger. She specializes in calculated defensive techniques, in order to wear down her opponent and leave them open for a winning strike. She could be considered above average, with much room to grow with the right instructor...
Unarmed combat, while skilled, is very much second rate comparatively, and is focused more so on defensive and disarming opponents.
Hunting and tracking were staple disciplines within her family, and she is considered above average in these skill sets, as well as building and maintaining traps for particular targets.
WEAKNESSES & DRAWBACKS:Racial Weakness - Craving human blood, but through the right mental exercises she can overcome the urges.
Impaired Vision - Her right eye was badly damaged in a duel, resulting in very poor peripheral vision from that side, and some level of difficulty gauging distance overall.
Guilt - Regardless of who was to blame for the incident that resulted in her being exiled from Amaranthine, Ryn still feels as though she failed her family, knowing that they may experience hard times because of her actions.
Trust Issues - being betrayed by a true friend cut her deeper than any blade ever did, making it tougher to get close to others.
MAGIC:▷
Foresight (Psychic) - Can see an event happening seconds before. Only passively active within a few meters of her location. It’s most practical application is during combat, which allows her to counter an attack much quicker than normal, even those flanking.▷
Mind Maze (Psychic) - The ability to disorient as well as distract another’s mind who lacks the willpower to resist. The effect lasts only a short time and varies depending on the species, humans typically being the easiest to manipulate.▷
Shadowmeld (Illusion) - Allows her to virtually disappear into a shadow. The darker the shadow, the more successful the deception.WEAPONS:Rapier, secured in a leather belt sheath, and two daggers, crossed and secured in the rear of her belt. One of the daggers is used for parrying if needed.
PERSONAL ITEMS:Rynia isn’t much for attachments or sentimental items, save for the Grimoire that her father had given to her before she left her homeland. All she really knows of the leather-bound arcane book, is that it once belonged to her mother (one of Jaroh’s many wives) who was proficient in spell casting, and that a note written on the page entitled “Shadowmeld” recommends that she seek out a proper teacher of that particular discipline as it is one of the most difficult spells to learn without guidance.
HISTORYThe youngest of sixteen brothers and sisters, Rynia Ly’staris was anything but the child that could one day become heir to the House of “Stone and Black Ice”, albeit a lesser status house within the city of Amaranthine. Birthed by one of Jaroh Ly’staris’ numerous wives, it had been several years since a successful conception had taken place, with previous attempts resulting in miscarriages, much to the dismay of those women who had to carry the guilt with them for the rest of their lives. Of course, none would ever assume it could possibly be Jaroh himself who was to blame, but even so, there were those women who the melancholy hit hard enough that they simply took their own lives, as though begging for atonement for the death of their husband's unborn child. But soon enough, a light reignited within the family as the first successful birth took place in countless years, bringing with it renewed vigor and hope, and the blessings of Lord-governor Encel Armenis, which increased his view of the Ly’staris lineage and it’s Patriarch. However, while the miraculous birth of their newest addition was a blessing, the favouritism being shown to her by Jaroh could not be ignore by many of his children who had spent most of their young lives vying for the attention -and frankly, the adoration- of their father only to feel more like sheep milling aimlessly about than his flesh and blood. Regardless of the justifications for his actions, discord was slowly being sown amongst at least half of his offspring, while the other half either defended their father’s actions or stayed out of it completely, caring little for the petty squabbling over an infant girl.
Time passed and much of the sibling rivalry and general uneasiness from years prior had simmered down. The eldest children, once coming of age, began taking on more responsibilities throughout the Empire, while others were given permission to leave their home and join merchants or travelers, thereby forging their own path in life. By this time, Rynia was being inundated with the best education available to her -which in the case of House Ly’staris, wasn’t as much as it could be- in both academics as well as combat, and was given little time to dwell on adventures beyond Amaranthine, let alone the tall, thick walls of her home. Granted, she enjoyed the freedom given to roam the city, however going beyond its borders meant being escorted by the city guards, whom she daily tried to evade only to be dragged right back behind the gates. For whatever reasons her father had for his overprotective mannerisms, it made life within House Ly’staris that much more difficult. No matter how the Lord of the manor saw it, his youngest daughter was still a little girl who simply wanted to play and was in no hurry to grow up.
Academics were not taken lightly, as each of the children were not only taught the vast history of their great vampiric race, but of other races, species, and geographic locations to the best of the Dremorian scholars knowledge. So much of Alskyra was still unknown, which made it an even more dangerous yet intriguing place. Without ever really admitting it though, Rynia enjoyed her studies even though she would much rather be out exploring the places learned about from the ancient textbooks and scrolls.
As per tradition and culture within her family and Dremorian society in general, combat was just a way of life, whether for sport, education, or defending against those who would tear apart the fabric of society. It was simply in the blood. Not to say they were a violent people, but rather recognized that physical fortitude and mental resolve in its raw form ruled over most other virtues. As soon as she could grasp a sword in her tiny hands, Rynia’s arduous training began, which took her down a new path of thinking, applying her academics with both ranged, melee, unarmed combat, and practical uses of magic. Eventually, she leaned toward the lighter, faster rapiers, using her supernatural reflexes and innate magical abilities to defend and counter each attack with almost perfect precision. Going along with tradition, Rynia competed in dueling tournaments, which pitted each House against the other for profit, respect, and honor. The abilities unlocked over her time of training were a rush of euphoria, and something she used to replace the ever nagging urge of the bloodlust...
Nothing could be more of a struggle than the insatiable blood-thirsty beast living within each of the vampire species. And for a child still learning to deal with the day-to-day pressures of pre-adolescence, Rynia also had to learn to curb the lust for the one thing that could potentially destroy her. A step too far in the wrong direction would mean madness and the downward spiral into something worse, but the necessary precautions were there, passed down through generations of those who walked the line between beast and civilized behavior. If anything, to resist something as deadly as the lifeblood of another was, in essence, a character builder. It allowed her the necessary tools to defeat just about any temptation as time went on, including those that would one day tear her away from all that she knew, and the family she loved.
Late adolescence came quickly as the years cruised by, especially while the girl busied herself in the daily workings of life and assisting those siblings who had the privilege of working within the upper echelons of society in whatever was needed. Friends and colleagues of various races throughout Amaranthine came and went, mostly those fledglings of other Houses she had grown up with, spending much of her childhood freetime -what little there was- with them at play or events hosted by various leaders in the community. Bonds were well established, although more so with the young males, due to her interests in combat and hunting, which seemed dominated by them. Either way, Rynia enjoyed the company, the break from her endless duties, and the monotony that seemed to follow. What the girl hadn't expected, however, was a quick shift from friend...to foe, where years of cultivating what she saw as real was only a mere facade, and the means to an end that would unsettle the balance she so desperately sought to uphold.
J’ekobi was his name, a generally high-spirited lad, third from the youngest of House Morishar, and one of Rynia’s closest friends for much of her childhood, even against the wishes of their families. The petty disputes over title and prestige mattered little to them, as they vowed to never allow such things to tear their friendship apart.
But all things come to an end.
One evening he had invited her over for dinner atop the highest tower within House Morishar, a gesture that was not unusual within their otherwise platonic relationship, however things turned rather awkward for the young girl as J’ekobi proposed to the one who he admittedly loved in secret for so many years. As touched by his words as she may have been, Rynia simply did not share the same feelings and rejected his offer with as much grace and respect as she could for her good friend. However, it had become abundantly clear that the young man would not settle for anything less than what he felt he deserved and spat back with insults and demands. An argument erupted between the two, and in an attempt to head for the stairwell leading out of the tower, the girl was grabbed from behind and pulled back into the large room, tripping over her attackers foot and onto the stone floor.
“What the hell, J’ekobi?” She screamed in their native tongue, her mind split between anger and terror as she was unable to comprehend the events that unfolded quickly. “This isn’t you!”
But apparently it was. A creature so blinded by lust, and fueled by hate propaganda that had been pushed on him for years by his own House. The voice of his father bearing down on him in the back of his mind, considering him the weaker of his children by associating with a “lesser being”. He hated his poisonous words, yet the boy thought it wise to restore things by marrying Jaroh’s youngest daughter, thereby bringing some semblance of peace between House Morishar and House Ly’staris, but her rejection and his own wounded pride didn’t allow much recourse. J’ekobi’s heated anger bested his better judgement, and the beast erupted as he overpowered Rynia after several moments of a struggle, pinning her up against an adjacent wall, and threatening to sink his razor-sharp fangs into her pale neck. For the first time in his presence, she had felt a rush of fear and helplessness wash over her mind, rattling her nerves to the point of paralysis. She wanted to fight, but could not, as apprehension and confusion gripped tightly, while her attacker slowly tore the long black dress -picked specifically for the dinner party turned nightmare- with every intention of violating the “virgin princess", as he mockingly called her. She didn’t know him anymore, the one she loved as a brother and dear friend disappeared before her very eyes, replaced only by a husk full of hate and resentment.
But it all ended rather abruptly as the tapered point of a seven inch steel hairpin entered through his ear, penetrating the skull, and piercing the fleshy brain matter. J’ekobi’s body went rigid, his eyes looking on in horror at the young girl as quick flashes of memory came and went. Images of a childhood friend who had always been there for him in his time of need. One who he could confide in, laugh with, play pranks amongst the House nobles, and simply enjoy being together. A girl, he loved, cared for, and ultimately betrayed.
“Forgive mm-...” He breathed, as his body crumpled onto the floor like a ragdoll before uttering another syllable, his blood covering Rynia’s hands, clothes, and face as she stood against the cold wall in tears.
A Day of Reckoning.Both Houses were enraged with the events that transpired; Morishar bringing the hammer of justice down hard, calling for the girl’s immediate public execution and her vampiric lineage to be shamed, whereas Ly’staris fired back with their own arguments against House Morishar's “rapist” offspring and his deserving of death for attempting to violate their daughter. In either case, any further action was postponed and Rynia was held in the bowels of the city dungeon while deliberations were in order, prohibited to see any family member. A decision, however, was eventually made to settle the matter in a most traditional and honorable fashion: a duel to the death. Rynia, the accused murderer of Ulric Morishar’s son pitted against his champion, a master swordsman and acclaimed hunter, who also happened to be the brother of J’ekobi…
The fight itself took place at just after midnight in the courtyard, which settled in the heart of the city, surrounded by countless torches lining the perimeter and spectators of various races and Houses. Blood would be paid in blood, and for many, this was an event worth attending. Both duelists stood at their respective sides, prepared to meet their fate head on. Ulric’s avenging son Hanstadh, brandished his finest blade and burgundy-stain leather armor. Rynia carried her prized rapier and wore the very armor her father had specially made on her sixteenth birthday, which at that time was well over one hundred and fifty years ago. Regardless, form-fitting and light, the black leather and hide pieces fit together perfectly as they did the day it was received, covering her from neck to toe in sleek elegance and protection.
The Morishar and Ly’staris patriarchs both stood on opposite sides of the courtyard, eying each other with contempt as they prepared to watch their own children fight it out until one was left standing.
To say it happened quickly would be an understatement as both charged to the center, exchanging attacks, parries, dodges, and everything in between. Hanstadh, the taller and stronger of the two, relished in pummeling down onto the younger girl whom he despised, hissing profanities toward her with every thrust and swing of his saber. After some time elapsed, Rynia began to recognize many of the fighting styles employed by her opponent. It was the very technique used by his brother J’ekobi, and one she was quite familiar with, which helped her keep pace and sustained counter-attacks. It was only when the unexpected (or perhaps it should have been expected) happened that caught her off guard.
A silent poisoned dagger pulled from under Hanstadh’s metal bracer sliced across the girl's exposed face with one swift stroke, causing her to fall to the ground in agony as the alchemical agents burned the affected area across most of the right side. Using the distraction to his advantage, Hanstadh repeatedly kicked the other, first the ribs, then the head, again yelling curses and insults. Rynia wanted to die at that moment, for the torment and lies to end, and for the guilt and trauma of what started all the chaos in the first place. Her opponent, however,was in no mood for a quick fight, but rather to drag out her suffering as long as possible, allowing the physical beatings and public humiliation to destroy the girl's spirit before bringing the hammer down for the final deathstroke.
“You're pathetic, fledgling...” He hissed, kneeling down next to Rynia and pulling her head up by her hair as he whispered one final time. “You and my brother would have been great together, as he was just as big of a disappointment to House Morishar as you have been to this entire city. J’ekobi’s love for you was his weakness.”
How it happened, the girl never knew, nor could she tell you to this day, but in that moment she had mustered enough strength and resolve to wrap her fingers around her sword and thrust several inches of the blade up and under Hanstadh’s chin, ending the terrible creature’s rhetoric as blood gushed from the open vein and his body fell across hers. The moments that followed were utter silence, as even the crowds were unsure of what happened, and all went dark for the girl as both sight and sound faded.
A Reprieve.The following day, Rynia awoke within the cell she had been in previously, her body achy and stiff, and her face partially bandaged and packed with healing herbs where the large gash was slowly scarring over. Time was not on her side, however, since an ultimatum had been given to Jaroh Ly’staris that after twenty-four hours has passed, his daughter was to be banished from not only the city of Amaranthine, but from all regions within the Dremorian Empire, blindfolded, transported miles from the border, and tossed out into the wilderness never to be allowed to return again.
And the final hour had fast approached.
Goodbyes were cut short by the guards, and a rucksack full of her personal effects were dumped into the awaiting carriage set for the long road ahead. Hands bound at the wrist by iron shackles, Rynia was escorted to the open wagon where she sat in the rear while the guard fastened her chain to a floor hook. All the family from House Ly’staris stood along the path leading out of the city, and many wept, while others looked on in utter confusion as to how all of this transpired in such a short amount of time, shaking their fist at the injustice. The carriage headed out along the path, and it was her father, Jaroh, that walked along with it carrying a leather bound grimoire which he tossed into the rear where his daughter sat, giving her one last smile.
“I’m proud of you Ryn, and don’t you ever forget that.” He said, holding onto the side of the wagon even as it’s pace picked up slightly. “This was your mother's.” He motioned to the thick book now sitting at her feet. “Before her passing, she wanted you to have it, and said you would know what ‘secrets’ it kept.” Jaroh shrugged. “You two always had a special bond that I’d never understand.”
The driver snapped the reigns and the carriage sped up causing Jaroh to release his grip from the side of the wagon as it passed through the tall dark gates. “Memento vivere!” He yelled, his voice echoing through the chill air as the wagon and its occupants turned the final corner and were gone from sight forever. Rynia turned her attention back to the towering gothic buildings of her home city, the only place she’d ever known, and yet she couldn’t help but smile through the tears that welled up in her eyes, wondering what fate truly had in store for her. And oddly enough, the moment following perhaps did steer her in the right direction, for when she sat down next to the leather bound book and opened it up, a folded piece of square parchment fell from it’s pages, written by a familiar friend of the family...
Rynia, m’love. I have gifted you freedom. First from the executioner's blade and then from a life that would do you no good. There is a place for you far beyond the chaos of these lands. It will take time, but if you stay your course, you will reach a place by which is simply named The Sanctuary. Follow the clues I have included within your precious Grimoire, and soon you will have a new home.
With love and adoration,
Catherine St.Claire 
