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Nezara Rorshin

Looks can be deceiving.

0 · 368 views · located in Maliusya

a character in “The Purifcation of Maliusya”, as played by Nightgem

Description

Name: Nezara Rorshin

Age Appearance: 23

Personality: Nez struggles with a personal identity. Having spent almost her entire life under the control of another, she is much more inclined to be what people tell her to be than to be herself. But she is far from a shell to order around. Nez has incredible determination inside her. Once given a task, or created her own goal, Nez wonā€™t stop until sheā€™s accomplished it. She expects no help from others, though isnā€™t stubborn enough to reject help when itā€™s offered. In fact, Nez usually thinks everyone else could do things better than she could, and as a result, takes criticism and advice very seriously. This doesnā€™t stop her from trying, however.

As for socializationā€¦ sheā€™s working on it. Nez spent basically her entire life being silent, or only speaking when called upon, and doing her best to please others. Now that sheā€™s free, she has trouble saying what she means, and talking about how she feels is even harder. Expressions, however, come much easier to her. She loves to smile and often does so without prompting, just for the sake of it. She also tends to cry about the strangest things, though never during a battle or when she needs to be strong.

What few people ever realize about Nez unless they get to know her, is her incredible curiosity for life. Nature, magic, people, everything fascinates her. She constantly is observing and questioning whatā€™s in her world, and takes great pleasure in knowing something she didnā€™t before. She rarely voices her thoughts and questions though, as sheā€™s been conditioned to believe such things are wrong.

Vocation: For now, just a runaway slave.

Race: Demon

Appearance:

Image

Nezara is a rare breed of demon: a shapeshifter. She can change her appearance to totally match whatever she chooses, even height and muscle mass (though, itā€™s for show only. Her capability wonā€™t change). Her original form is something few people have ever seen, as itā€™s both strange and unusual looking. In her original form, she is neither a man nor a woman, and though the outline is there, her eyes have no color. Instead, she usually walks around in her preferred form, a human female with bright green eyes and brown hair that grows only to her shoulders. She usually chooses forms that are attractive, but not overly so, as she doesnā€™t want to draw attention to herself.


Height: Usually 5ā€™7ā€

Weight: Usually 140lbs

Scars/Tattoos/Piercings: One tattoo on her right shoulder blade, a snake just about to strike. Itā€™s always there no matter what form sheā€™s in. Scars she can shift away, and piercings arenā€™t really sustainable.

History: Nezara has very little memories of a time when she wasnā€™t a slave. Considered very young for a demon, she knows almost nothing of what Alionya was before the takeover. The day of her birth was almost the day of her death, for when she was born it was immediately assumed she was a monster, a baby without a gender or coloring of any kind. It was only by the love and protection of her mother she managed to survive long enough for her power of shape shifting to come to fruition. By the time they were caught and enslaved, she had learned enough to hide it. But not for long.

Fear, pain, anger, any strong emotion was enough to shatter Nezā€™s illusion. Her Master soon discovered her power, but instead of turning her over as he should have done, he saw her as a prize, a tool to gain power. She went through rigorous, daily training, becoming a near-perfect assassin by the time she reached adulthood. So she could not use her ability to escape, her Master had her tattooed, the only skin marking she canā€™t erase. Then, she began being sent out to do his bidding, killing off any who stood in his way in his quest for more wealth. Her mother died of sickness during this time, but she had no opportunity to mourn. For several years she was little more than a killing-machine.

Inside though, she hated it. She hated killing, and being owned, and knowing nothing but what she was told. Her negative feelings grew until finally, she realized she was either going to give up living, or escape. A twist of fate made her choose the latter, and after weeks of preparation, she was officially on the run. Such a prize wonā€™t be given up easily however, and sheā€™s been running from her Masterā€™s attempts at recapture ever since, no matter how far away she gets, as well as avoiding being caught as a magic user.

Equipment: Twin daggers accompany Nez wherever she goes, as well as a currently empty pouch and empty vials she can use to make poisons when she has the means.

So begins...

Nezara Rorshin's Story

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Character Portrait: Nezara Rorshin
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There were many things Nezara Rorshin was sick of. Getting lost, never having enough supplies, and being constantly heckled by those that wanted to take various things from her by force all topped the very long list, but one thing triumphed over them all: running. Nezara Rorshin was very, very sick of running.

It was amazing really, how many people wanted her dead, especially considering she tried so hard most of the time to be likable. She couldnā€™t help being born a demon, or a shapeshifter, or with enough brains to realize there was more to life than following orders. She couldnā€™t help that the only way she could live right now was through petty theft and more lies than she felt comfortable admitting to. And yet, it was all these reasons she probably had three separate sets of people after her, all with the intention of destroying her life in one way or another.

The issue with running was you never really had much choice in destination; you just ran until you were safe and wherever you ended up is where you ended up. So for the last six hours or so, Nez had no idea where she was. All the streets had started to look exactly the same, and she kept being forced to change direction to avoid those damned Guilders from finding her again. Not that they would recognize her, considering they had seen her as a teenage boy with blonde stubble and curly hair, but still, it was better to be safe than sorry.

As she was desperately attempting to figure out where the hell she had ended up, the air changed, and suddenly something was pulling her in a specific direction. She didnā€™t think it could be right, considering where she was, but she followed it nonetheless until she came upon a group of people standing just outside the doorway to a house. She saw the dead, the man who reminded her frighteningly of the powerful warriors back home, the girl, andā€¦ what was undoubtedly a necromancer. She had met enough in her time to recognize the scent. But what had drawn her there was none of those things. It was the demon. The man with the light colored hair and pissed off expression. There was actually another demon around, right in front of her! Maybe heā€™d be willing to help her, or at least explain to her how the hell he managed to get by around here without attracting notice. Even morphed as a human female she still seemed to get pegged almost immediately as different from the rest of them. Maybe things were looking up.

Only, maybe not. The situation hardly looked friendly. The demon did indeed appear to be utterly annoyed about his companionsā€™ presence, and no one seemed to look at the death-mage with trust. Deciding it would be in her best interest for now to not get involved, Nez pulled up the hood of her black cloak and retreated back behind her corner, hoping to find a more suitable position to watch and assess the situation. Smushed between two houses was not the best strategic holdout for information gathering. However, she managed to do no more than back up a couple of feet before suddenly, her cloak was roughly being pulled from behind, off her shoulder to reveal a very exposed tattoo. Whoops.

ā€œI knew you were a bloody shifter,ā€ the man growled, before Nez managed to pull herself from his grasp. She reached for her swords and was on him before he had time to do much more than glare. She couldnā€™t believe she hadnā€™t heard him sneaking up on her like that; she had never been caught by surprise in Alionya. A product of undernourishment and too few hours of sleep, she supposed. Unused to fighting with someone so quick, the man named Dylon lashed out wildly, and fruitlessly. Fearing the racket of a fight would draw the attention of the people just around the corner, Nez put all her strength into making it a quick, clean fight, and clean it was. Dylon hardly knew what hit him before her blade smoothly slid across his throat, nothing more than a gurgle passing from his lips before he collapsed. A Guilder. Nez wondered if he had shared his suspicions about her talents with the others, or if he was alone. Either way, they were turning into a serious problem. She hadnā€™t wanted to, but she really might have no choice but to kill them all.

Nez bent down and shut the manā€™s eyes, and it was then she heard that Dylon was not, in fact, alone. She turned in time just to avoid a throwing knife to her spine, but her reflexes werenā€™t as fast as they usually were. Biting back a shout of pain, Nez had no time to inspect the slice along the left side of her abdomen before the second man was on her, this one a Guilder she did not know the name of. Despite the injury, she made relatively quick work of him as well, using his own discarded throwing knife against him. It hadnā€™t managed to do much more than bite her side, but abdomen wounds were tricky; they bled a lot and had a very good chance of getting infected if not dealt with immediately. Just what she needed.

Slowly, painfully, Nez picked up the feet of each man one at a time and dragged him out of the way of the space between the two houses. The last thing she wanted was for some child to wake up tomorrow morning, look out their window and see two dead men lying there. Once she had hidden them away, she circled back around to see if the group had heard the commotion or if they were still unaware of their guest. She sincerely hoped she remained anonymous, considering sheā€™d just committed murder and all. To try and slow the bleeding she pushed her hand against her wound, leaning heavily on the wall behind her for support. It was times like these she really wished she hadnā€™t escaped alone.

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Character Portrait: Amaris Mingan Character Portrait: Nezara Rorshin
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Nez had tried to move away when she heard the footsteps coming in her direction; the assailant hadn't exactly tried to mask their presence. But just standing was getting difficult, and she realized if the person was going to attack, they probably wouldn't have walked right at her. Deciding to conserve her strength, she waited for the person to come into a clearer view. It was the woman of the group she had been watching, and Nez almost had to laugh. She was stupid to think she hadn't drawn their attention.

That didn't stop her from dropping her free hand towards her sword, watching the woman's every move as she spoke. Though Nez felt her blood dripping between her fingers, she still felt an overwhelming sense of discomfort at accepting help from a stranger. For all she knew this woman was a sword for hire, and the moment she learned of Nez's bounty, she would cart her back off to Alionya. Tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear, Nez attempted to stand up as straight as she could, with her own power instead of leaning on the wall for support.

"I require no assistance," Nez replied, formally but firmly. She wasn't that badly off after all, she could make it back to her hide away and treat herself just fine. The thought lasted about 7 seconds before Nez's vision went fuzzy and she fell forward, pressing her shoulder against the wall to keep herself standing. Her hair fell from behind her ear in front of her eyes, and that's when she saw it: strands of white in amongst the brown. That was a sign she was going to black out soon. She couldn't keep up her shifting the weaker she got, and when she slept or was unconscious, it faded completely. It was only a matter of time before she revealed herself if she didn't get help right away, and she supposed it was better to accept it while she was still standing.

"Ah... or perhaps I do," she conceded, giving the woman a small smile. Nez decided to not worry about the fact that her blood would give her demon status away almost immediately; humans blood was much lighter than a demon's, and her shifting powers did not extend to what left her body. This country did not treat demons the same way her own did, and she had little choice but to trust it wouldn't matter.

Pressing her hand as hard as she could on the wound, Nez pushed herself from the wall and slowly walked over to the woman, trying to do as much in her own power as was possible. "Where are you taking me?" she asked, not that the answer would help her much as she knew very little about where she was to begin with.