Post by TMan66 on Aug 18, 2019 13:36:17 GMT
Vallandria Iorelei
Vallandria Iorelei Appearance
Campaign Rules
A scarlet-haired, fully armored and masked half-elf cavalier champion from the Phoenix tribe of the wilds. A highly trained warrior from childhood tasked to restore the glory of the Phoenix tribe once more.
Race : Half-Elf
Racial Perks : Meditation, Mediator
Languages : Common, Elven
Vallandria Iorelei Appearance
{Armored}
{Unmasked}
Sorry folks, you have to earn it
Sorry folks, you have to earn it
Campaign Rules
A scarlet-haired, fully armored and masked half-elf cavalier champion from the Phoenix tribe of the wilds. A highly trained warrior from childhood tasked to restore the glory of the Phoenix tribe once more.
Race : Half-Elf
Racial Perks : Meditation, Mediator
Languages : Common, Elven
{Background}
Gender : Female
Age : 29
Height 186 cm
Skin : Light Olive (at least her hands are)
Hair : Scarlet
Facial Hair : None
Limbs : 4
Face : Unknown (yet)
WL : 2
Perks : Courageous, Profession (Soldier)
Flaws : Cosmetic Deformity (Unmasked), Overt
Feats : Tough as Nails I, Defensive Mastery
The sky is as blank as the void... No stars dancing like candles nor the moon shining her beam of warmth piercing the dead of night... Tonight, darkness reigns upon the lands... the blazing embers of a campfire stands as a beacon in the darkness... Tended by tribesmen and surrounded by warm tents... A war outpost in the wilds... or the last bastion of a dying tribe? A man with the scales of a dragon, yet with the refined feature and grace of an elf, stands up... The bright crimson light shining from the fire casts a dim ebony shade upon his towering frame... Wearing cured leather armor adorned with glistening polished bones and rare tooth of exotic animals... The rest of the men around the fire turn their gaze upon him...
"Tonight... We shall crown our champion... Our agent in the realms... For we are few and far between... Our glory extinguished, our lands ravaged... Tonight... We shall send a beacon of hope and a symbol of our past greatness upon the world... For one day... One day... We will rise from the ashes... And our champion shall lead us to glory once more!" They erupt in cheer, lifting their fist up in the air. "AUU! AUU! AUU!" The dragon-elf turns his gaze upon a tent... It is slightly bigger than the rest... Reminiscent to a commander's tent... And then speaks in Elven... "Come forth, for tonight, you are our champion!" The curtains to the tent parts... From the inside emerge... A woman... Cloaked in a ceremonial robe... A strand of red hair can be seen from under her hood... Her face silhouetted... Unseen... Hidden underneath the shadows...
"All rise!" The men stands up. "I present to you... Our champion... The Daughter of the Warfey... The Phoenix Cavalier... Vallandria Ioreli!"
"AUU! AUU! AUU!" The men cheers. "And now... We feast!" The dragon-elf shouts. "AUU!" And they start to setup the wild boar and the spit roast upon the fire... a barrel of ale rolls out from another tent... The feast begins...
The woman stays silent... Unmoving... And then the dragon-elf approaches her... "Champion..." She turns her gaze upon the dragon-elf. "Chief... You look fat in that ceremonial armor..." The dragon-elf smiles. "And you think you look pretty in that robe? You look like dragon crap in that..." She chuckles. "Still prettier than a dragon-elf shite at the very least…" The dragon-elf lets out a hearty laugh. "Hahaha come here sis!" The dragon-elf pulls the woman into a warm, proud hug... She returns it wholeheartedly. "Oh man you are fat brother haha!" They let go of each other. "I know i know... I need to hunt more but alas... Chief work demands me to stay close with the tribe..." The dragon-elf's gaze lowers a little... "Dear Vaarymarth why is it has to be you..." His voice can only be heard by her... Drowned by the sounds of the feast. The woman answers "We have our father's elven grace Dronigan... But while your mother gave you your strength and hardiness, my mother..." She pauses for a little bit. "She gave me my pragmatic nature and my compulsion to do stupid things." She lets out a smile. "I am not made to lead a tribe brother... I am tailored to be a warrior..." Her brother gives a proud look on his face. "Well, you're right... You do have stupid thoughts... Who in their right mind would go out of their way to travel the world alone with almost no purpose at all..." His voice lowers a little. "I can only pray to Vaarymarth for your safety... Oh and that reminds me..."
He walks inside a tent and brings out a helmet. It is full faced, and with a distinct rear "fin" on the back. "This, is custom made by our uncle! Very rare that an elf works metal this fine but, I guess father really wanted his daughter's helmet to be special." He hands his sister the helmet. "That should fit your armor just fine..." She takes the helmet. Inspects it. "This is well-made... But the mask--" The dragon-elf cuts her off "Not, for that purpose... It is made before that time..." He lets out a small sigh. "Look i still feel bad about it but, you know i can't do anything about that..." She looks at her brother. "I understand brother... And let's be honest you don't feel that bad do you?" He laughs. "Hahaha oh come on even with that the boys are still after you you know? I mean i can only wish them good luck since if they want to court you they must have the confidence to duel our best warrior and have a chance to go out with some of their dignity intact!" She lets out a chuckle in response to her brother. "Haha that is a very good point. And since you're chief now, you should find some wives brother... Father had what, 3? 4?" She asks. "Well before our mothers? 3 wives. 3 sons and 2 daughters. All warriors. May Vaarymarth grants peace upon their souls." He lowers his head. His sister follows. "For our fallen brothers and sisters."
He breaks the silence. "And yes i think i should start picking up some of the ladies of the tribe..." He added. "And no, i wouldn't ask for your help since you'll probably gonna challenge them to a duel before they can marry me." His sister smiles. "I know Scaly-Butt. And I'll make sure that any men that wants to court me will have to go through you first." She said nonchalantly to her brother. Her brother confused but, understand what his sister means by that. "Well then. Big day tomorrow! You will be leaving and i will officially be the only Children of the Warfey still in the tribe! Let us enjoy the feast for tomorrow, our destiny awaits!"
The next morning... The sun rises, blessing the world with light and warmth... The tribesmen stands in a circle. Weapons ready. Now with the daylight it is clear. The tribesmen are mostly beastfolks and their half kin. Elves and dragonborns mixed within their ranks. The occasional humans and tieflings with their half-kin also stands proud. Dronigan the Dragon-Elf stands tall in the middle of the circle.
"Rise Champion! Rise The Daughter of the Warfey! Rise The Phoenix Cavalier! Rise Vallandria!" Dronigan shouts. "AUU! AUU! AUU!" The tribesmen shouts. The women of the tribe stands behind their husbands forming the circle. They start throwing flowers into the circle. The commander's tent curtains parts. From the tent, a woman with full plate armor. A red scarf covers her neck, and a velvet cloak billows on her back. Crimson cloth accents her armor. Her helmet carries a distinctive "fin" that allows her scarlet hair to flow like a horse's hair. Her mask featureless, with no nose nor mouth. A cold, blank, empty expression. On her right hand an oval shield. Scarred and battered. But battle-hardened. On her left hand a longsword. Simple. But functional. She walks towards the center of the circle with cold and calm steps. She stops right in front of Dronigan. Wielding her sword and shield at the ready. Dronigan slips out a very subtle smile. He is so proud of his sister. But he knows the work comes first. "Anyone here challenge the worthiness of our champion?" Dronigan asks. No answers. "Very well then..." Dronigan breaks the silence. "As per the tradition--" Dronigan slips out of his ceremonial robes and reveals his battle armor. "I will challenge our champion to a duel!" He draws his twin hatchet. His sister stands at the ready. The tribesmen cheers. "AUU! AUU! AUU!"
The siblings, face to face, a champion and a chief. A horn bellows out. Battle begins. Dronigan lets out a feral draconic roar. Vallandria doesn't even flinch. He jumps on her with a fury of a dragon. She nimbly deflects the blows and manages to land a solid shield bash on his face. Dronigan smiles. His mouth now drips saliva. His throat glows like ember. A dragonborn in a trance. Dronigan leaps up towards Vallandria while letting out his fire breath upon her. She blocks the breath with her shield but Dronigan is now directly above her, letting out a flurry of slashes. One two three four slashes in a whirlwind of blows. She dodges one. Dodges two. The third one deflects off of her armor. The fourth one barely parried with her sword. She steels her will. She knows that she only needs to take him down on the ground. He will slip up. The Phoenix Trance came at a cost. Recklessness. Dronigan still consumed by rage and primal beastial instinct, leaps again with his twin hatchet. Vallandria focuses. As Dronigan tries to land his slash, Vallandria puts her shield to the front and pivot to the right while holding her shield in place. Before he Dronigan knows it, Vallandria is already at his side. Without hesitation Vallandria knocks down her brother to the ground with her longsword and places her blade on his throat. The Champion comes victorious. "AUU! AUU! AUU!" The men cheers. She sheathes her blade and helps her brother up. "You'll need to learn that trance someday sis... It can save your life..." Dronigan whispers to her. "Unlike you brother i don't have a primal fury to unleash... Elves don't really rage and humans are... Well humans..." She answers. "Your focus is unrivaled Val. You can hone that focus into a weapon sharper than your sword." He replies to his sister.
The battle has now ended. Dronigan clears his throat. "The Champion has proven their worth! Now, for the Oath of the Phoenix Champions. These words are few, but it has been spoken since the first Champion of the Phoenix." The tribesmen readies their weapon. Prepared to say the Oath of the Phoenix Champions. Dronigan nods to his sister. Everyone in unison, starts to speak in ancient beast tongue.
"Long has the Phoenix Crown languished with no worthy brow to sit upon, by our breath we offer it now to you in the name of Vaarymarth. Your Champion shall carry the duty of the Phoenix. Should your Champion perish, know that their sacrifice will not be forgotten. And Champion, should you perish, know that one day we shall join you."
With that, Vallandria Ioreli is now officially the Champion. The Phoenix Cavalier. A tribesmen delivers her a horse. As white as ivory. Before she leaves, her brother approaches her. "Val, there is this city known as Geiselburg. I've heard some rumors about talented warriors and powerful guilds residing there. You might want to go there first in your quest. They might be able to help you in your goal. Oh and wear this... I wear the same one... Something to remember me with..." He tells her that and hands her a wolf amulet. "Only you and Vaarymarth knows what you're looking for but, i wish you good luck... May Vaarymarth bless you... Chubby-Cheeks..." Val lets out a smile and tightly hugs her brother. "Thanks Scaly-Butt... I will pray for our tribe's safety as well... And may Vaarymarth bless us all..." She hops on her horse and rides away...
Gender : Female
Age : 29
Height 186 cm
Skin : Light Olive (at least her hands are)
Hair : Scarlet
Facial Hair : None
Limbs : 4
Face : Unknown (yet)
WL : 2
Perks : Courageous, Profession (Soldier)
Flaws : Cosmetic Deformity (Unmasked), Overt
Feats : Tough as Nails I, Defensive Mastery
The sky is as blank as the void... No stars dancing like candles nor the moon shining her beam of warmth piercing the dead of night... Tonight, darkness reigns upon the lands... the blazing embers of a campfire stands as a beacon in the darkness... Tended by tribesmen and surrounded by warm tents... A war outpost in the wilds... or the last bastion of a dying tribe? A man with the scales of a dragon, yet with the refined feature and grace of an elf, stands up... The bright crimson light shining from the fire casts a dim ebony shade upon his towering frame... Wearing cured leather armor adorned with glistening polished bones and rare tooth of exotic animals... The rest of the men around the fire turn their gaze upon him...
"Tonight... We shall crown our champion... Our agent in the realms... For we are few and far between... Our glory extinguished, our lands ravaged... Tonight... We shall send a beacon of hope and a symbol of our past greatness upon the world... For one day... One day... We will rise from the ashes... And our champion shall lead us to glory once more!" They erupt in cheer, lifting their fist up in the air. "AUU! AUU! AUU!" The dragon-elf turns his gaze upon a tent... It is slightly bigger than the rest... Reminiscent to a commander's tent... And then speaks in Elven... "Come forth, for tonight, you are our champion!" The curtains to the tent parts... From the inside emerge... A woman... Cloaked in a ceremonial robe... A strand of red hair can be seen from under her hood... Her face silhouetted... Unseen... Hidden underneath the shadows...
"All rise!" The men stands up. "I present to you... Our champion... The Daughter of the Warfey... The Phoenix Cavalier... Vallandria Ioreli!"
"AUU! AUU! AUU!" The men cheers. "And now... We feast!" The dragon-elf shouts. "AUU!" And they start to setup the wild boar and the spit roast upon the fire... a barrel of ale rolls out from another tent... The feast begins...
The woman stays silent... Unmoving... And then the dragon-elf approaches her... "Champion..." She turns her gaze upon the dragon-elf. "Chief... You look fat in that ceremonial armor..." The dragon-elf smiles. "And you think you look pretty in that robe? You look like dragon crap in that..." She chuckles. "Still prettier than a dragon-elf shite at the very least…" The dragon-elf lets out a hearty laugh. "Hahaha come here sis!" The dragon-elf pulls the woman into a warm, proud hug... She returns it wholeheartedly. "Oh man you are fat brother haha!" They let go of each other. "I know i know... I need to hunt more but alas... Chief work demands me to stay close with the tribe..." The dragon-elf's gaze lowers a little... "Dear Vaarymarth why is it has to be you..." His voice can only be heard by her... Drowned by the sounds of the feast. The woman answers "We have our father's elven grace Dronigan... But while your mother gave you your strength and hardiness, my mother..." She pauses for a little bit. "She gave me my pragmatic nature and my compulsion to do stupid things." She lets out a smile. "I am not made to lead a tribe brother... I am tailored to be a warrior..." Her brother gives a proud look on his face. "Well, you're right... You do have stupid thoughts... Who in their right mind would go out of their way to travel the world alone with almost no purpose at all..." His voice lowers a little. "I can only pray to Vaarymarth for your safety... Oh and that reminds me..."
He walks inside a tent and brings out a helmet. It is full faced, and with a distinct rear "fin" on the back. "This, is custom made by our uncle! Very rare that an elf works metal this fine but, I guess father really wanted his daughter's helmet to be special." He hands his sister the helmet. "That should fit your armor just fine..." She takes the helmet. Inspects it. "This is well-made... But the mask--" The dragon-elf cuts her off "Not, for that purpose... It is made before that time..." He lets out a small sigh. "Look i still feel bad about it but, you know i can't do anything about that..." She looks at her brother. "I understand brother... And let's be honest you don't feel that bad do you?" He laughs. "Hahaha oh come on even with that the boys are still after you you know? I mean i can only wish them good luck since if they want to court you they must have the confidence to duel our best warrior and have a chance to go out with some of their dignity intact!" She lets out a chuckle in response to her brother. "Haha that is a very good point. And since you're chief now, you should find some wives brother... Father had what, 3? 4?" She asks. "Well before our mothers? 3 wives. 3 sons and 2 daughters. All warriors. May Vaarymarth grants peace upon their souls." He lowers his head. His sister follows. "For our fallen brothers and sisters."
He breaks the silence. "And yes i think i should start picking up some of the ladies of the tribe..." He added. "And no, i wouldn't ask for your help since you'll probably gonna challenge them to a duel before they can marry me." His sister smiles. "I know Scaly-Butt. And I'll make sure that any men that wants to court me will have to go through you first." She said nonchalantly to her brother. Her brother confused but, understand what his sister means by that. "Well then. Big day tomorrow! You will be leaving and i will officially be the only Children of the Warfey still in the tribe! Let us enjoy the feast for tomorrow, our destiny awaits!"
The next morning... The sun rises, blessing the world with light and warmth... The tribesmen stands in a circle. Weapons ready. Now with the daylight it is clear. The tribesmen are mostly beastfolks and their half kin. Elves and dragonborns mixed within their ranks. The occasional humans and tieflings with their half-kin also stands proud. Dronigan the Dragon-Elf stands tall in the middle of the circle.
"Rise Champion! Rise The Daughter of the Warfey! Rise The Phoenix Cavalier! Rise Vallandria!" Dronigan shouts. "AUU! AUU! AUU!" The tribesmen shouts. The women of the tribe stands behind their husbands forming the circle. They start throwing flowers into the circle. The commander's tent curtains parts. From the tent, a woman with full plate armor. A red scarf covers her neck, and a velvet cloak billows on her back. Crimson cloth accents her armor. Her helmet carries a distinctive "fin" that allows her scarlet hair to flow like a horse's hair. Her mask featureless, with no nose nor mouth. A cold, blank, empty expression. On her right hand an oval shield. Scarred and battered. But battle-hardened. On her left hand a longsword. Simple. But functional. She walks towards the center of the circle with cold and calm steps. She stops right in front of Dronigan. Wielding her sword and shield at the ready. Dronigan slips out a very subtle smile. He is so proud of his sister. But he knows the work comes first. "Anyone here challenge the worthiness of our champion?" Dronigan asks. No answers. "Very well then..." Dronigan breaks the silence. "As per the tradition--" Dronigan slips out of his ceremonial robes and reveals his battle armor. "I will challenge our champion to a duel!" He draws his twin hatchet. His sister stands at the ready. The tribesmen cheers. "AUU! AUU! AUU!"
The siblings, face to face, a champion and a chief. A horn bellows out. Battle begins. Dronigan lets out a feral draconic roar. Vallandria doesn't even flinch. He jumps on her with a fury of a dragon. She nimbly deflects the blows and manages to land a solid shield bash on his face. Dronigan smiles. His mouth now drips saliva. His throat glows like ember. A dragonborn in a trance. Dronigan leaps up towards Vallandria while letting out his fire breath upon her. She blocks the breath with her shield but Dronigan is now directly above her, letting out a flurry of slashes. One two three four slashes in a whirlwind of blows. She dodges one. Dodges two. The third one deflects off of her armor. The fourth one barely parried with her sword. She steels her will. She knows that she only needs to take him down on the ground. He will slip up. The Phoenix Trance came at a cost. Recklessness. Dronigan still consumed by rage and primal beastial instinct, leaps again with his twin hatchet. Vallandria focuses. As Dronigan tries to land his slash, Vallandria puts her shield to the front and pivot to the right while holding her shield in place. Before he Dronigan knows it, Vallandria is already at his side. Without hesitation Vallandria knocks down her brother to the ground with her longsword and places her blade on his throat. The Champion comes victorious. "AUU! AUU! AUU!" The men cheers. She sheathes her blade and helps her brother up. "You'll need to learn that trance someday sis... It can save your life..." Dronigan whispers to her. "Unlike you brother i don't have a primal fury to unleash... Elves don't really rage and humans are... Well humans..." She answers. "Your focus is unrivaled Val. You can hone that focus into a weapon sharper than your sword." He replies to his sister.
The battle has now ended. Dronigan clears his throat. "The Champion has proven their worth! Now, for the Oath of the Phoenix Champions. These words are few, but it has been spoken since the first Champion of the Phoenix." The tribesmen readies their weapon. Prepared to say the Oath of the Phoenix Champions. Dronigan nods to his sister. Everyone in unison, starts to speak in ancient beast tongue.
"Long has the Phoenix Crown languished with no worthy brow to sit upon, by our breath we offer it now to you in the name of Vaarymarth. Your Champion shall carry the duty of the Phoenix. Should your Champion perish, know that their sacrifice will not be forgotten. And Champion, should you perish, know that one day we shall join you."
With that, Vallandria Ioreli is now officially the Champion. The Phoenix Cavalier. A tribesmen delivers her a horse. As white as ivory. Before she leaves, her brother approaches her. "Val, there is this city known as Geiselburg. I've heard some rumors about talented warriors and powerful guilds residing there. You might want to go there first in your quest. They might be able to help you in your goal. Oh and wear this... I wear the same one... Something to remember me with..." He tells her that and hands her a wolf amulet. "Only you and Vaarymarth knows what you're looking for but, i wish you good luck... May Vaarymarth bless you... Chubby-Cheeks..." Val lets out a smile and tightly hugs her brother. "Thanks Scaly-Butt... I will pray for our tribe's safety as well... And may Vaarymarth bless us all..." She hops on her horse and rides away...
{Point Ledgers Totals : 0 CP; 1 XP; 0 WP; 3 LP}
[Day 837] Sea Cult Thing (1 CP, 2 LP)
[Day 841] Brood Bandit Thing (1 CP, 1 LP)
[CONVERT] 2 CP -> 1 XP
[Day 837] Sea Cult Thing (1 CP, 2 LP)
[Day 841] Brood Bandit Thing (1 CP, 1 LP)
[CONVERT] 2 CP -> 1 XP
{Other Rewards Ledger}