Name: Nyirr
Gender: Male
House Name: None
Age: 34
Appearance:
Nyirr was an oddity of his own family in Valaria. His physical demeanor was one you would think would come from a family bred for war. Standing near a mighty six foot seven inches, he towers most if not all the people from the town he was raised in. To add to this immense height, he was built with a thick, broad body. It was both a mix of his natural size and tedious training as a Warden for the Tower of Magi. You would think that this would make the tall man look very intimidating and rough? Well, yes and no. He looks very mature and well down to earth, very composed in nature. Always stands with his back straight and his head up, showing determination and strength of will. Yet, his smiles are ones to strike people. When his lips formed into one, you could see a gleam of gentleness and sincere friendless which is off for a powerful man like himself.
More often than not, when he is ‘’on duty’’, many see him bear the plates of the Wardens, composed of a full suite of plate mail (save the helmet). With a simple steel shield hooked on a leather strap on his back and with his more renowned weapon The Dawn Breaker (Being a one handed studded head mace) to his left, accompanied by a traditional longsword. A simple dagger was attached on the belt of his left hip.
On other occasions, generally outside of his duties or when he is within the Tower without duty, he wears a set of simple light colored robes (Usually Grey, blue or white) and a dagger at his hip.
Homeland: Valeal (Valaria)
Race: Guardian
Spells: None. He is an older generation of Guardians and therefore cannot use Seals.
Bio:
Nyirr was born of a beautiful couple who were neither nobles nor peasants. His father was a wealthy merchant of the road, selling rare goods at high prices and being that charismatic man he is. His mother, on the other hand, was a simple and fair musician. How they met was one of the most typical but beautiful stories Nyirr at ever heard. It was the first night of the Harvesting Season and the festivities were on. The people of the town had gathered to share some good mead at the local tavern. The drinks were flowing and the men were singing. Kriss, Nyirr’s father, had had a good sell that day and was being generous, especially to Genyth, Nyirr’s mother. Long story short, festivities brought them together and every time he would hear the story, he would smile.
The tale was also told to his two younger sisters, Lily and Ferra. The three of them together were a formula for disaster, or so most said. In reality, it was quite the contrary. Nyirr had always been able to keep his sisters in check while still having some fun. Many wondered how he did it, even his parents, but they did realize that Nyirr was a particularly smart boy, picking up fast on facts and tricks of many trades. He was a potentially focused individual who had figured out how to manipulate some magic. It had shown by nothing more than making water float in the air for a couple of seconds to entertain his sisters. When they had noticed this, it was phenomenal find… And they had plans for him to go to the tower to become one of those people; a mage. With their earnings, they were building up a good amount of savings to be able to give him a straight ride to there…
… But then, it happened. The news had spread across all the nations. One of the mages, a powerful one, had turned his magic against the others and killing many in the process. This had pushed Nyirr’s parents to reconsider sending the young man out. They didn’t want to send their young boy into a dangerous place like that. They reconsidered only once they heard that this Necromancer was pushed back into the unknown lands. This, in effect, had them rush their child to the Towers and learn as quickly as he could. The goodbyes were so sudden and unpredictable. Nyirr didn’t understand properly at first, but something told him he would understand later in his life.
The atmosphere at his arrival was tense and uncomfortable at best. Whatever had happened with this renegade mage had caused a great deal of trouble. Nyirr overlooked this when he was presented to his first aid in the magical arts: Sir Geoffry. He was offered the study of Hydromancy first, as his talents had been explained in an earlier message. This started off this boy’s career as a mage. Yet, it would be short lived.
On Nyirr’s twelfth year of being on this plane of existence, the invasion had started. The young mages and appetencies were extracted fast enough from the Tower, taking them elsewhere, but it was a fatal blow for a few of the more knowledgeable and powerful mages. Nyirr was taken into a temporary mages facility near the borders of Valeal for the time being of his teachings… It was to say that it was very minimum teachings as most mages that were available were going to the efforts of war. His progress wasn’t great from there on, as he struggled to stay concentrated in this kind of run down atmosphere. He wasn’t of any use there, but it seemed there was something to be done. A Guardian who was too injured to go to the frontlines and well enough to help in people teachings had decided to instruct some of the younger boys and girls to fight. Nyirr was one for them, especially giving his impressive size for his age.
Nyirr was fearful of what this training might bring as the war waged on… Would he be sent on the battlefield? It was his main worry, but also worried about his family as the barbarians were getting nearer to where they resided. It urged him to push harder and faster through his training, to be able to fight sooner. He had to go help, they needed the men. Yet, for the first six years of the war, he couldn’t do anything but train and watch.
At the age of eighteen, he was finally given a chance. He was even given the ritual to make him into a Guardian. He would be one of the rare few in his region to be given this process as they needed people to fight against the magic of Malfear. With his formation done and his immunity now awakened, he was sent in with other guardians to fight and aid against the magical prowess of the Necromancer. It was bloody… Nyirr has seen many of his comrades and a few friends die in theses battlefields, to get to Malfear. It had changed him greatly, forged him into a man with the nerves of steel and true determination. He had survived through the worst.
Four years pasted, Malfear was finally slain and the barbaric forces were driven back or killed. Nyirr, after all this time, was exhausted and wished to go back and check on his family. He had left the mages for a short moment, reaching his sisters fairly easily. They were fine. It was the greatest relief he could have. Kriss had them move as far away as they could from the war for that time. Locally enough their old town was still up and they were able to come back into their home.
Nyirr stayed for a very short time, as he left to go join whatever mages were left to rebuild the new Tower. It was a rough and depressing time, even after their victory. There was little to celebrate about. Nyirr, for one, only saw death as a result of this war. Nothing was gained out of this, they only lost so much. And so, when the Circle of Magi was slowly reformed, he had become a hunter of the Feral Mages, as for this war to never happen again. Nyirr became colder and more reserved every time he did a task for the new order, remembering what a Renegade had done to their nation. He still couldn’t believe the stories of demonic influences and turning to dark magic to become so corrupt. It pained him to hear this every single time.
Nyirr had been a loyal to the towers for many years, doing both missions and teaching what he could to the new upcoming of Guardians. He had very little place for joy… And to make it worst, the region his family inhabited had started their own war. Independence for a nation of their own. A sad story that was, as more people would die for an idiotic cause. Something that clearly wasn’t necessary. Yet, it was happening. Nyirr had no time to concentrate on that as the Tower needed him to concentrate of their doings.
Fortunately, he had learned to loosen up a little with the help of a few friends he has made. The first one being Sir Lazerous, an older Blessing and Purification Mage that has taught him to calm his soul down and make the best of what he had. The second was Lady Nitia and Vednusdi, two Valeans. One was a Guardian like himself, but much younger. The lady was a pyromancer and curser, again, younger than himself. The four of them together had formed a small force, one would say. They have learned to work together and even to this day, they still did…
