Lich (name will come as the play goes on)
"Worried where life will lead you? Don't, soon it will come to an end"
Kneel Before The Crown - Harry Lightfoot
"Worried where life will lead you? Don't, soon it will come to an end"
Kneel Before The Crown - Harry Lightfoot
GENERAL INFORMATION
Full Name
Feiska Rathein.
Feiska in their language has a meaning: River. (Thought I may yet change it a bit)
Nickname
-
Age
Looks around 20-25
Gender
Female
Sexuality
"An undead? Really? What is wrong with you people?"
Home
Veneria. City of Ves.
Alignment
Neutral.
Disliked by the allience for being undead, while hating the horde for what Trolls did to her. It couldn't be worse...
Race
Human/Undead/ Lich
D.O.B.
May 30th, but she always thinks it's May 9th
Full Name
Feiska Rathein.
Feiska in their language has a meaning: River. (Thought I may yet change it a bit)
Nickname
-
Age
Looks around 20-25
Gender
Female
Sexuality
"An undead? Really? What is wrong with you people?"
Home
Veneria. City of Ves.
Alignment
Neutral.
Disliked by the allience for being undead, while hating the horde for what Trolls did to her. It couldn't be worse...
Race
Human/Undead/ Lich
D.O.B.
May 30th, but she always thinks it's May 9th
APPEARANCE
Height
5'4"
Weight
Her weight = full body armor + the human, you don't want to carry her.
Eye colour
Faintly glowing light blue color
Hair colour
White hair
Skin
Pale/white - actually depends on the weather.
Accent
DO YOU HAVE AN ACCENT? Is their a lisp or a hiss when they speak, do they sound Irish or African? < Wait, that's a... I mean this is fantasy... what are Irish people doing here... though really now:
Subtle english tone, with a bit of hiss here and there, when she gets annoyed.
Piercings
No.
Tattoos/Scars:
Yes, but not going to describe for now.
General Description
At first glance, you would say it’s a long lost aristocrat in front of you – a female wearing comfortable, yet touched by time robe/dress, with white hair, surely reaching her spine.
Her body an hourglass figure(/-ine), left unscathed by time, which is strange.
Her eyes, her eyes are the reason why you should be afraid – a light blue glow is what one would see, and what could never be hidden, a sign of magic, and a ritual that left her standing in between death, and life.
And a bit more, just in case :
From top:
White hair, with a bit of grey here and there. An oval face, with lightly glowing blue eyes, and a pale lips that barely twitch, as if she wanted to speak.
There is no need to tell, that skin is as white as a snow, but it should be said that there is a hole in where a heart once was.
Beneath the white dress she wears, lies an odd armor – one touch, and you become a good old popsicle.
Hands small and seemingly frail, but make no mistake, one grip from this thing is enough to choke the life out of you.
MENTALITY
Personality
I'll answer the questions for fun:
"Do you have any spare change?"
— No, and why would such skin, and bones need a change?
"Why is your nose so big?"
— It's not big, it's broken you... blind monkey! Why do I even travel with you all?
"Can I have a hug?"
— Not until you become nothing but a pile of bones, and even then... no.
"Where are you from"
— A very comfy graveyard, they have the best... scenery and beds.
So from this you can take that she's a cold, and distant person, probably selfish as well, but with a humour. Though where did she get that kind of... a bad/dark humour is hard to tell. In addition she cares about those who she got used to (traveling with, and so on), and will probably die for them. A loyal type, one would say. < Still a mess ^^
Likes
[✔] People that oppose her.
[✔] Food.
[✔] Old books.
[✔] Forbidden knowledge/Or plainly forgotten.
[✔] Jokes.
[✔] Watching others fail.
Dislikes
[✖] Chickens.
[✖] Mortals.
[✖] Weaponry, that does not involve magic.
[✖] Pineapples.
[✖] Hot weather.
[✖] Spears
Fears
- Failure.
- Death
- Fire
Hobbies/Job
- Carthography
- Singing
- Traveling
Break the circle of life and death, and a vendetta against the Trolls.
COMBAT
Class
Necromancer, but also has access to ice magic, and a bit of water + wind (Geez, I don't want her to be op, but at the same time... I know why she would have a bit, tiny bit of knowledge about these latter two)
Physical Strengths
No martial arts, but since she is an undead, the punches, and grip are bit above the average human, so... she might be strong enough to choke a medium level guard/warrior to death. Oh, and death never tires.
Physical Weaknesses
Fire, she absolutely hates fire (Like GoT Hound, best character ever ^^) - her armor would melt, and her body would easily burn. Hence she knows a bit of water magic, to at least deal with it partly. (It would be dumb if she had no way of defending self)
Magic Strengths
Excells in necromancy, and wears an enchanted ice armor - really unpleasant to direct touch.
Magic Weaknesses
NO FIRE! https://youtu.be/FdnF3LE8Bow?t=27 ^^
Can't use potions... imagine that in a big scale battle, or just a long one + Great pool of mana, but halved regeneration rate of the human sorcerer.
Needs to be careful about the mana usage, it is also partially a source of her life, and the less mana she has, the weaker she is.
Weak to light magic.
Weapon Skills
Minion control, magical books, spears. (That's all for now - it may grow if she learns something during the rp)
Protection Type
Enchanted armor, and a comfortable robe on top of it.
HISTORY
Short Version
Just a brief explanation of how your character reached the state they're at now. For example you could say they grew up in their race's home land and got bored of their town so they decided to travel outside their comfort zone and make new friends. < Hard to do, when there's so little about the world known, but here goes nothing.
As men sat around the bright fire, exchanged the cup, and listened to the silent night. One spoke, in a grim tone:
— Care to listen to an old tale?
A man beside him nod, while the bearded man on the other side spoke:
— As long as it's not another tale of how you failed to get a woman.
All three chuckled, for a while the night felt less... worrying, dangerous to each of them. Man with a grim tone took a deep breath, before speaking once more:
— It's a tale about a nobles, a tale of pain, loss, and death... that broke the circle of life.
— Oh, great, another undead I guess — Bearded man threw in, while the other continued:
— There was a family once, a father, a daughter, and a mother. All with a purpose in life.
He paused for a moment, taking a cup from the man beside - he took a sip, and passed it over the fire.
— Father was a man of honor, a man that cared deeply about his people — He paused, then continued once the bearded man took another sip — Daughter young, and energetic... would change the world with magic. She dreamed of a way... to save the dead from the death.
Bearded man winced, and spoke once again:
— I can see where this is going, she'll turn to necromanancy, and everything will fall apart. Dumb young bitches, all the same.
The third, and the youngest of the three stared longly at the bearded man. Visibly displeased with the interruption. Man in question just shrug.
The youngest turned his gaze to the oldest, to the teller of the tale. Man with wrinkled face smiled at him lightly, then continued:
— Mother spoke with many, knew more than one language, and saught peace in the world. A true diplomat, that hated the sight of blood.
Teller had been given the cup, yet refrained from drinking, his lips were far from being dry.
— Daughter sought to study the art of light, and she did... for a while. Father took care of the military, of the needs that his people had in a time of peace, and war...
He took the cup to lips, and drank slowly, once finished he kept the cup. No one objected.
— And mother... sadly she met the tribe of trolls, and saught to help them, to give them home.
Bearded man pursed his lips, holding the anger, that resided within him. A man that been to war, that fought with the horde would have no other reaction... than what is seen now.
— At first it went well, and soon daughter, and father would know of her success. Daughter as always, thrilled to hear such news, but father was... more sceptical, suspicious.
Bearded man crossed his arms, and spoke loudly:
— And right he was.
Teller smiled, but it was a smile of a sad old man.
— And right he was... trolls raided their small land, killed the father, mother, and even the daughter... but the last found a way out.
— Necromancy, bitch.
— Necromancy indeed, at the cost of light, of a chance to break the circle of life. Ironically she broke the circle, but not truly. Now, she'll forever be a prisoner of life and death.
A silence came over them, silence that the youngest broke:
— It feels rushed, like the some details were left out, surely because of Gareth — He glanced at the bearded man — but I'd like to know... is this a true story?
Teller shifted in his place, visibly uncomfortable with the question, that was asked.
— Most of it, but I am unsure about the girl. She most likely died to a spear, just like the rest of them.
— The kingdom... it's a small one, was it Veneria?
Teller smiled.
— Yes. I'm surprised you realized it's about a kingdom, not just some land that some nobles had.
— He's a smart one, that lad.
— Indeed I am. — he grinned, while others smiled, then he lowered his head.
— It's sad. Their story I mean.
— All are. You ought to get used to it — Gareth stared at him with a wet eyes, thinking about the ones he lost himself, about his wife.
A wind came, strong one, that weakened their light. Youngest covered himself with wolf skin, Gareth reached for his spear, while the oldest oddly cared the least - he only decided to look around, as if expecting a guest.
A guest came indeed, wearing a white robe, and not alone. Accompanied by tall man in a rusty armor. A she, that glared at Gareth with lightly blue eyes. She hissed:
— Put that thing away mortal. If you value your life.
Gareth immedietly knew, that she meant his spear. He let go, and even covered it with snow.
— Good. If I see you touch it, you'll meet your beloved makers.
Youngest stricken with fear, and curiosity at the same time asked, or rather yelled:
— You're... you must be the daughter! — It did not seem to be a question, and she only glared at him for a moment. She wouldn't grant him the verbal confirmation he seeks.
Instead she sat near them. Winced a little at the sight of fire, then her gaze turned to the old man
— You're alive.
Man seemed to be on the verge of tears.
— Yes. I'm... — a cold finger covered a part of his lips.
— Don't. It's worthless. — She took a cup off of him, and took a sip.
— Tastes... like everything else, a pity.
Gareth stayed silent, the youngest couldn't believe his eyes still, and wondered what exactly connected these two. His grandfather and her.
He had many questions, but refrained from asking - knowing there would only be silence. And so in silence they sat for a while, with a tall man watching from the outside range of light.
Old man cried silently, for a good minute or two, then he finally calmed down. And with it she got up, her words strangely echoed around them:
— Keep that idiot away from spears and... — She shifted gaze to the youngest —... teach him well.
— Yes, I will.— He said, and she left, their source of light grew stronger, with the help of spear, that Gareth broke and threw into the flickering fire.
Long Version < honestly I think at this point both should be combined, first is the minimum, and here's bit more.
(Totally not a fourth wall break, totally... no really, I've got it covered! ^^)
Veneria, a small kingdom to the north, it's size is equal to Breckland in Norfolk state. Alas we're not here to brag about Brecklands greatness, but to talk about a small kingdom that went through each day with the help of magic, and diplomacy. A home to many, and most of all a Lich, whose origin place it is.
It's said, that everything began with a small water tribe - oh, wait, wrong story. Again...
It all began with a small tribe, that decided to settle in this unforgiving land - big part is covered by snow most of the time, while other would never suffice to keep bigger population well fed. - There were but a few things, that could be grown, and even fewer, that could be raised.
Nonetheless tribe at first had little to no trouble living through each day. But as they grew, need for proper living conditions, technology, and most of all food grew. With it came an expansion of their most important part of tradition, or maybe one should say living : A study of magic, that as we all know comes in many forms.
Their early study focused on four elements, now known to us as: Fire, Water, Wind and Earth. And here's for the dear students a short lesson of their language:
Efi means Fire, Resh is water, Wind is Durnamu, and Earth is Eta.
Now, that our vocabulary grew with few words, don't be surprised if I use them.
Efi and Resh were the most important during their first days, is what the chronicler would say. I on ther other hand believe, that the most important was wind, for with it they learned how to combine magic, and change weather. Though as we all know, changing weather requires a lot of our magical strength, it usually leaves us itchy for few days, if we're lucky. If not, well, you all know possible costs to that... especially you Hagrim, yes you! How did the trip to the other side felt? No, don't answer that, it was a rhetorical question.
Back to topic at hand. Or not. Forgive me, but I'll jump a bit, surely not to bother you young with the... more detailed things.
Let's all skim through time for a while, past their early achivements, and their earliest growth as culture. What will we get? A small prosperous kingdom, with a lot of short people.
Chuckle can be heard in the room
Yes, yes, indeed it is funny. But strangely most of them were quite short. It's still a mystery to us all, even though... well, we all know.
Still, there is a matter... ah, yes. If you all would kindly imagine a kingdom, that had majority of their population consist of mages, a kingdom that had no interest in war, but in diplomacy. What would ruin it?
Well, to answer that... it would be kindness.
(Really tough to come up with, when I'm not using time stamps, time at all^^)
Now for a proper history lesson:
Around fifty years ago, which in their time would be Fifth year of the Grish. Oh, right I should mention, that Grish is their famous mage... ah, here I go again. I beg you all to pardon my... jumps.
Fifth year of Grish was the time of stability, and it also happens to be exactly fifty years since Veneria became... well, Veneria in name. It is also sadly the last year for them, as with stability came a feeling of peace, and safety, some would say false.
During that time, there were two prominent men - well... woman and a man. A king, and his wife, queen.
King was known for three things - For lack of magic coursing through his veins, interest in weapons of all kind, and for being the tallest man in their kingdom. Now, he was 5'6, so I'm sure you can guess the rest.
Queen on the other hand was known for her silver tongue - diplomacy, her greatest suite. Though she had a soft spot for living beings, which caused Veneria's fall.
Now I'd like- what? Time? Oh, right, we already hit the clock. Seems like I'll have to finish this some other time, now run along... - He said, and watched his class leave, it felt strange - teaching in another world that is, at least it's not as tough as the last few weeks were without the technology he got used to. And he no longer needs to explain what Breckland is, or where he's from. Though he still has no idea how he got here.
Once the class was empty, he slowly began to pack his things - so slow and focused he was, that he didn't notice a guest arriving, and waiting for his attention. That wouldn't came, until the said guest grunted.
(I'm sooo sorry, but it's just too tempting^^)
— Oh, we're alread... — he paused, lightly confused by the white haired woman in front of him, a woman that he did not recognize.
— Excuse me, but who... who are you? Because I'm sure you're not one of my students. You look far too odd to be one.
She disregarded his question with ease, and asked:
— I'd like to inquire about the cause, that brought demise upon Veneria kingdom.
Threw off he stared at her with open mouth, almost ready to answer like he would usually do, and lose himself in history. But he managed to refrain from doing so, to wait a bit longer due to two important things.
— Certainly, but first let's find a more comfortable place, where we could drink tea, and secondly... I'm still waiting for an answer, from you.
She rolled her eyes, annoyed at the behaviour, this mortal shown. She expected him to be strange, but not this strange - anyone else would notice the chill, even the "kids" that left this room not so long ago. She didn't like it, but fine, she will play his little game.
— Feiska.
— I see, I see — He nod few times, grabbed the leather bag and slowly aimed for the exit — Well, follow me child.
Her expression turned black for a second, annoyed at the fact, that he called her a child. Nonetheless she followed him. They scaled one set of stairs, and another. He had no trouble with it, which surprised her, due to what a weak sack of bones he seemed to look like. - Loose skin, thin, yet has no problems with stairs, simply astonishing.
Neither of them counted stairs, but with how many were scaled, she couldn't help but guess the number had to be around three thousand. Guessing didn't last long, they arrived at the top, in front of the door. He led her inside, into a small, but comfy and oval room - with two levels.
First level had only few things - round table, chairs, a bed, and some alchemical equipment lying in the corner.
To get to the second level, one had to scale lader, then they would stand on a small balcony like floor, that went round, just like the tower they were in. This level mostly had shelves, with books in them. Strange place.
He calmly went towards the alchemical equipment, and started mixing something.
— Please, take a sit, this may take a while. — He said, and right he was, though it took good five minutes for her to finally decide, that sitting is a good idea.
She waited another five minutes for him, and he joined her with two small cups, both filled with still hot tea.
— That one's for you, and that's for me. — He announced with a smile, and rested his back in chair covered with fur.
— So you... what was your question again? — He asked, and she bit lower lip, tempted to put him into an ice.
— What caused the fall of Veneria?
—Kindness. — He replied shortly, her expression became grim.
— Could you elaborate?
He shifted lightly to the left, took a sip of tea, and still holding cup in hands spoke:
— Well, according to records a tribe of trolls welcomed by the queen, razed their capital, and... the rest is obvious. But let's be honest, no small tribe would manage to take on a kingdom consisting mostly of mages. So I'd say a horde had a hand in that as well.
Wrong, most were not prepared, most rarely thought of conflict, of anything that would endanger them. So, when they came, the small army, that the kingdom had was not enough, and simple men and women never really used magic in anything else, but their daily life. So how could they fight? Simple, they couldn't.
— Wrong. I remember it differently.
— You do? — he seemed lightly intrigued, but she neglected it.
— Which Troll tribe burned the King's castle?
He smiled, and shook his head.
— Oh, I don't know, never been there, and even if I was... I would have no idea.
More, and more she found this risky meeting worthless. And the man suspicious.
He glanced few times at her cup - it was obvious what he wanted to say.
— Tea will get cold, and no one likes cold tea.
She shrug.
— I dislike warm things.
He chuckled.
— And yet you do not mind at all the fur on chair, but you do seem to watch closely sources of light in this room. It's not the warmth, but fire, correct?
She closed lips tightly.
— Well, silence is usually a yes. But putting that aside — just like he put away the cup — I may be almost blind, but I can recognize the undead. The eyes, and the weird voice. I also find it fascinating how your voice has a subtle english tone. Though you surely don't know what an accent is.
No, she did not know, still it did piqued her interest, but not enough to ask.
— I tire of this. — She said, and raised from the seat — Speak, or be forever silent.
— Really, are you threatening someone as a guest? That's very rude. — he shook his head again — I won't, not until you answer my questions.
He's not strange, he's insane. He objected, even after her little threat - no self preservation, or maybe pure stubbornness, either way she couldn't help, but briefly smile.
— Ask. — She said, all while once more resting on a chair.
— How did you die? — Really, why do they always have to ask that, she thought.
— With a spear messing my insides, and a fire eating... a part of my body.
— Explains the way you look at the torches.
She sighed.
— Anything else you'd like to ask?
— Besides being curious about the more detailed explanation to how you died? Well, the tribe you've asked about, why look for them?
— You should know.
— Revenge?
— Yes.
— Alright, then I'll help — He smiled, and then laughed at her expression.
— Why are you so dumbfounded? I won't ask any more, for I can see how you frown with each question. Now...
He got up, and aimed for the ladder.
— Feel free to stay behind, I've got to grab a thing from the upper level, a book to be precise.
Like she'd ever move, when there's no need. Besides it's temtping to use a bit of wind... so he would fall. But no, she shook her head. He's still useful.
He scaled the ladder, went through few bookshelves, and with a loud : Aha!He found what he was looking for.
— The only way we can identify them is by their markings, that have been gathered so far. — he said, once he was back in his chair, then turned few pages, and finally reached out with a book, towards his guest.
— Take it, read each, and tell the one you at least think you saw.
Pages upon pages, usually a pleasant sight for her, but not when it is about the race she hated the most. Nonetheless she did as he said. She read, and examined the markings of each tribe. Wolf tribe, snake tribe, strange human translations, and still not a sign of the one she would recognize. Just a she thought, that killing all trolls would be the best, a small tatoo caught her eye. In a shape of a half owl.
— This one, half owl.
His expression became stern, as he reached out for the book, that she happily returned - any longer, and she would accidentaly froze it.
— Are you sure? — Still, and uptight, not a good news she presumed.
— Yes.
— Then it will be problematic. Owl tribe is... long gone, though I'm quite sure there are still some, that originate from it inside the horde. Maybe, and just maybe you'll find the one you're looking for.
— That's more than enough — She got to her feet, he got up as well.
— But one more thing, before you leave. How did you get in here without being stopped? You know, you're rather obvious with these eyes.
She grinned.
— I used a mask.
He laughed, and she turned to the exit, intent on leaving.
— I'll close the door, and you ought to know one thing: It won't be better, been there. — She turned to him, tilted head and stared into his eyes, only now she had noticed the emptiness in them. Strange. She turned back door and stairs behind them, crossed the line and heard the last thing, as he closed the door behind her:
— I hope, you'll have a better end, than mine.
She went down in silence, with conflicting thoughts all of a sudden.
Relationships
Her family is dead (ah, the cliche is back), most people she knew happen to be dead, aside from one old man, who once were a schoolar, that taught her about light magic.
Was she ever in love? Certainly, and not just once, aside from the pleasant ones, there were few bad.