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Dallas Reiger

A powerful priestess and the last of her clan, she seeks to rebuild what has been lost.

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a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by MgeoftheWhtBst

Groups

A group of battle-hardened veterans. These legendary champions came from all walks of life before banding together in the defense of Terra.

Description

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Species: Lahanian. The rough equivalent of humans from another aspect of the Multiverse. On sight alone, there are no differences between humans and lahanians. She has three marks on her face- one under each eye and one on her forehead- that distinguish her as a priestess of the Lahanian Empryea.

Age: She appears in her mid-thirties, just starting to show signs of age. In reality, she has lived for at least 400 Lahanian years. Her travels have caused her to lose exact count.

Height: 6' 0"

Weight: What a rude question to ask of a lady!

Eyes: A true, royal blue

Hair: Long white locks that are typically kept unbound

Garments: She has adopted the style of a sleeveless japanese kimono top for travels, a dark blue, with plain white trousers. It is belted with a simple piece of rope, from which is hung her satchel of tools. A quiver of arrows is always slung across her back, though she carries no visible bow to use them with. She is usually barefoot. Rarely seen, she dresses in flowing white ceremonial robes for special occassions.

Personality

The priestess is a peaceful soul, and yet a powerful force of justice in the cosmos. She always prefers to settle disputes through mediation rather than violence, and she is a champion of the weak. She is deeply commited to the credos of her order, above them all mercy, justice, and dignity for all beings. She will never attack unless first provoked, and even then prefers a defensive strategy to an offensive one. She is not, however, a wilting flower. Dallas has an intellectual mind, trained as sharply as her body, balancing religion with reason.

Likes: Flowers, reading, meditation and conversation

Dislikes: Those who prey on weaker beings

Greatest Desire: To recruit enough apprentices that they can restore the Empryea to its former glory

Greatest Fear: Dragons

Greatest Strengths: Temperance, Fortitude, and Prudence

Greatest Flaws: Her intelligence can occassionally cause her to be less-than-patient with those who are not as quick as she is.

Equipment

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Weapons: Reishinken ("divine soul sword") - A magically forged sword that has the ability to shift to three distinct weapons:
* longsword
* staff
* longbow

All the forms of Reishinken are black, adorned with several small blue gemstone and etched bolts of silver lightning. Often, Dallas will also channel her magics through it.

Nature's Guardian- An ancient artifact bestowed with the power to attract or repel metal objects. Its form is a compilation of leather armor, which Dallas currently wears.

Magical Abilities: As a priestess, her attacks center around divine power, purification, and healing. They are most effective against beings of evil, chaos, demons or undead.

Other Items: Teleportation Necklace: A small pendant that grants her the power to return to the Antongrad Seaside Towers at a moment's notice.

A pouch that contains her magic and healing tools:
* several small crystals
* mortar and pestle
* various herbs
* vials of pre-made salves and healing potions
* small candles

History

Dallas's Journal

Dallas was recognized for her potential at an early age. Born into a prestigious clan of powerful priestesses serving the Lahanian kingdon, she was schooled from her early youth in the ways of the Empryea. She trained rigorously across several weapon techniques, and primarily discovered a love of the bo staff and longbow, though she was adept with a sword as well. In her training, she also discovered a deep-seated fount of holy magic, which her studies honed and intensified to their current level.

When Dallas reached the tender age of 12, a great evil fell upon the realm. Every last citizen was called upon to defend the land from the wickedness known only as "The Dragon Mistress", and among the first volunteers were most members of the Empryea. But even their great magic and sharp battle skills proved no match for the Mistress, and countless were slain in her wake. Dallas was youngest among the survivors, numbers who were too few to restore the Empryea to its former magnificence. One by one the last priestesses faded into history, until only one remained. The old ways fell into obscurity, retold only as fairy tales to the young of the land. Only one woman remained true to the gods she had known her whole life.

And it was that woman the gods cursed with the task of restoring the Empryea. She would wander the multiverse, to realms innummerable, unable to go to the rest of the afterlife until her mission was fulfilled to their satisfaction.

And so she wanders...



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The Lahanian Empryea
In days long past, the Empryea were a powerful and respected force in the realm of Lahan. The clan of priestesses held many positions of leadership in government of all levels, and also put their efforts towards humanitarian causes and social justice. They were ambassadors, doctors, advisors, teachers...wherever evil and ignorance existed in the world, they were there to combat it. Above all, however, they were the religious leaders of all the peoples in Lahan. They lived their lives in the service of Lahan's many gods, the creators and protectors of the realm.

The Pantheon
  • Viseron: Lord of the Dead
  • Daena: Lady of the Born
  • Sike: Lady of the Mind
  • Uronis: Lord of the Heart
  • Rhynia: The Hunter
  • Lemari: The Grower

Also, the demi-gods Ailato, Myreen, and So'oken.

The Meerlaa (Code)
The key tenets of the Empryea are in the form of vows taken by each and every member when she comes of age, usually at 12. They are:

  • Feed the hungry
  • Give drink to the thirsty
  • Clothe the naked
  • Shelter the homeless
  • Care for the sick
  • Visit the imprisoned
  • Bury the dead
  • Instruct the ignorant
  • Counsel the doubtful
  • Admonish sinners
  • Bear wrongs patiently
  • Forgive offences willingly
  • Comfort the afflicted
  • Pray for the living and the dead

So begins...

Dallas Reiger's Story

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 .

The setting changes from the-realms to Altar Room

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 A primitive place, for certain

The setting changes from altar-room to Gambit's Bar

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 "Hmm....I wonder if the gods cursed me to follow trouble for the rest of my days." She stood in the doorways, leaning against it slightly, icy blue eyes taking in the unfolding tension, to put it mildly.

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Dallas Reiger enters the bar tenatively, blue eyes scanning the occupants quickly. She scoots herself to a corner of the room to observe, silently.

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Dallas Reiger Her ears prick up slightly at the mention of vampires. Her eyes settle in the direction of the conversation, and she listens intently.

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Dallas Reiger watches the freezer fly through the room, and merely arches a brow.

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Dallas Reiger She strides in again, distinctly less awkwardly than she has previously. Her white hair streams out like a blizzard behind her as she makes her way to the bar, having little care for anyone or anything in her path.

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Dallas Reiger For reasons unknown, the priestess whirls around, a fire burning beneath the icy blue of her eyes. Her jaw is clenched tightly, a snarl twisting her typically gentle facial features. She has a white-knuckle grip on the ebony staff she carries, poised in an agitated state of tension. Her ire seems not to be directed at anything, save possibly the door itself.

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 Pru: The white-haired woman seemed to relax slightly, and turned to look over her shoulder at the figure at the bar, apparently in some emotional distress. In a flush, the gentleness seemed to return to the woman's face as she speaks. "What's the matter, child...?"

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Dallas Reiger A tall woman enters the room, and makes her way straight to the middle. She sits on the floor, cross-legged, and lays her black staff across her lap. Lids slide closed over deep blue-gray eyes, and she draws in a deep breath before starting to mumble words very quietly under her breath.

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Dallas Reiger Sensing eyes on her, one eye opened again, and landed on the girl fiddling with what appeared to be some small gem. The woman with long white hair returned a gentle smile, then closed her eye again and returned to her quiet murmuring.

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Dallas Reiger Her murmuring grows silent. She breathes in deeply, and exhales slowly, a smile crossing her face. She simply continues to sit in her place, allowing the noises of the bar to fade to the background. The staff in her hands began to give off a faint white glow, pulsing every so often.

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Dallas Reiger At the sound of the far-off screech, the priestess's eyes flew open. She could sense it coming, and fast. She stood up and was at a window in a flash, her gaze taking in the carnage that was quickly making its way toward the bar. She ducked and covered as the massive beast came crashing through the bar, splinters and shrapnel glancing off her arms and back. She rose and turned to the scene as the dust settled, her hand tightening around her staff, and met the cause of the chaos face to face. Her lips twitched at his mocking manner, and then turned into a scowl of distaste. "What, pray tell, is your business here..?" Her tone was even, though from the tightness in her jaw, it was easy to tell that the calmness was strained, at best. Her right foot shifted back slightly. She was an officer of peace...but sometimes, there was no peace to be made.

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 No stranger to a confrontation, the priestess brought up her staff vertically, gripping it with both hands to block the arm that came at her. The black staff gave off a pulse of white light, a jolt of purifying magic. His reaction to it would give her a clue as to what kind of monstrosity she was dealing with. "I suggest, sir, that you take your business elsewhere, where less passersby will be in harm's way." Her normally gentle features turned hard-edged in a moment, and her knuckles were whitening as her grip on the staff grew harder.

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 Before the priestess manages to respond to the old man who has come up to her, she is lifted up and vaulted over the head of the malicious creature with whom she was engaged. She manages to shift her weight as she sails over his head, landing hard, but still on her feet on the other side of him. As her feet find the ground again, she twists at her waist, straightening her arms in an attempt to wrench her staff free from the Joker's grasp. Her mouth is set in a tight line, and her jaw visibly clenched as her ire rises. "I assure you that my reflexes are quite swift enough."

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 A tall woman with flowing white hair and deep blue eyes makes her way towards the entrance of the bar, but she halts just at the doorway. She strikes the bottom of her black staff against the ground, then the top of the staff against the top of the doorframe. Each time the staff strikes, it sends out a tiny pulse of white light, little more than ripples in a pond. She murmurs quietly to herself, eyes drifting closed as she continues a stream of nearly silent speech.

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Dallas Reiger A tall woman strides into the bar, a hurry in her step. She clutches her wrist with her opposite hand, holding it awkwardly away from the rest of her body. She passes by everyone, heading straight for the counter, and speaks in a voice that is straining to maintain composure. "I need some baking soda and water please. As quickly as possible."

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Dallas Reiger The white-haired woman furrowed her brow at the lack of aid. She braced what was apparently her good hand on the bar and in one graceful leap vaulted the counter landing on the other side. Her eyes darted back and forth for a few moments, until she located what she was looking for. She ducked down out of sight, and the sound of water running could be heard by patrons near the bar counter.

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 ((Forgive any overlap.)) Dallas felt herself raised off the ground as her opponent vaulted her over his head, but she managed to twist herself, her feet heading squarely for the ground. Her white-knuckle grip refused to budge from her ebony staff, and so she had no way to dodge the knee that raised to meet her squarely in the stomach. She grunted, her deep blue eyes bugging slight for a moment. Yet her jaw was hard, and she managed to bite back any cries from the pain. Still she held fast to that staff. Her eyes met his, and her nose twitched in disgust. "Is that the best you can do?" Her speech was strained, but her gaze was fierce. "All show and no substance."

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 The shove indeed moved her back a little, but the movement seemed to lack a typical stumbling. She released her grip on her weapon just as Joker yanked -hard-, and the sudden loss of resistance would likely cause him to falter momentarily as well. As her fingers left the staff, her feet slid along the floor into a low split, and then her right leg swept in a high arc, aiming to catch and trip up her foe at his knees.

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 Confusion, then a moment of fear flashed across the priestess's face as her brain cognized what was happening- an unexpected move to say the least. As quickly as she could, she tried to jerk her body backward, but the momentum of her leg going toward him did not allow her to make it as far as she'd have liked. The blade missed a satisfying connect with her chin, but grazed her face, slitting her skin in a vertical slash from the front of her chin, up through her top lip, and splitting one of her nostrils halfway to the bridge. The strike put her fully on her back, and she released a shriek of pain, grimacing as her hands came up to cover the fresh wound. After a beat, she managed to open her eyes halfway, and pulled her hands away to examine them. She was greeted by the sight of her fingers and palms covered in deep red blood, which had been smeared across much of her lower face, and a few trails had snaked down her neck, landing drops to stain her snow-white locks.

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 The woman's body came together, nearly rigid in the entanglement of wires. She merely looked at her captor, her eyes betraying none of the emotions that might lie behind, save one: a fierce defiance that burned even now. Small snakes of blood slipped down her skin in various places where the wires were digging with more pressure. Her silence continued, and her eyes turned up toward the sky. It would seem as though she believed that merely ignoring him might make the problem go away.

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 The priestess's body went limp, falling to the floor a mere mass of broken and bloody. After a few moments, however, it started to glow- very faintly, almost unnoticeable. Then, it simply...vanished.

The setting changes from gambits-bar to Altar Room

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 Atop the altar, where the carcass would normall be found, lies instead a human figure, clothed in fine white robes from head to toe. Even the long hair spilling over the edge of the altar in a snowy white, though it has been speckled with brown droplets of dried blood. As one would move closer, they would be able to distinguish a woman's features amidst the leftover bits of flesh that clung to the ancient sacraficial table. She was lovely, or would have been if not for the grotesque injuries on her face. They were relatively fresh wounds, though old enough to be caked over. Her chin, her lip, and half her nose had been split vertically, as from a wicked slash of sword or dagger. The rest of her was bruised badly, and everywhere fleshed peaked out from beneath thr robes, there were thin gashes, as though having been cut by something akin to fine wires. Yet despite the injuries, she was breathing- very shallow, quiet ragged, practically silent...but breathing still.

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 The woman drew in a sharp breath at the magic, and her face twisted into a wince. The bruises and gashes slowly, very slowly, began to recede from view. Still, she did not open her eyes yet, and it was summarily difficult to tell exactly how close death might be in her future.