Vaylen Stroud

"There is no better feeling than watching the life drain from a person's very eyes, knowing you have decided their fate."

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a character in “Call of the Kingdom”, as played by Graymonger


Vaylen Stroud, The Wraith of Ibaolith


Physical Description
The first characteristic that an individual will realize when viewing the image of Vaylen Stroud are his eyes—a steel-gray hue that garners no grief, no fear, no misery. They are the eyes of a killer, a man who enjoys watching the life fade from an enemy's eyes, knowing that he was the one who determined their fate. While usually wearing the Mask of the Wraith, his heirloom, below the facade is nothing more than a young man, but a young man of great physique. Peaking at the height of five feet and eight inches, he is defined by his small frame that is capable of performing athletic and acrobatic feats not akin to most human beings. His body itself is formed around sinewy, toned muscle that seems to be structured correctly at every angle of his anatomy. Large, calloused hands that held daggers since he was a young lad run through his short dark brown hair constantly. His jaw-line is well-structured, being mostly squared off into a handsome feature. His cheekbones are nearly unnoticeable, centered at either cheek wonderfully. Thin, dried lips are usually displayed in an unemotional line across his countenance, but sometimes they form a smirk—an expression that foretells doom. Finally, a light beard rounds his cheeks and jaw, lining his lips as well.

“To reveal your age is to reveal your mortality. To have mortality is to have weakness. Wraiths are of the undeath, and therefore no client of mine will ever know of my age.”

“Pledging one’s allegiance to a single group, a single faction, a single ruler is utter idiocy. I enjoy the reward of my kill: infamy, money, women. Why must I need to align myself with a certain political identity if I have all that I desire?”

“There are three things I strive to master in this world: the art of killing, the manipulation of people, and immortality.”

“If you challenge me, I will kill you. If you steal from me, I will kill you. If you attempt to change me, I will kill you."

“I have not acquired the title of the Wraith of Ibaolith for nothing. My athleticism is unparalleled in the Six Kingdoms. My acrobatics, my balance, my speed, my instincts, my ferocity, my disregard of fear, my unshakeable confidence, and my willingness to do anything in my power to watch the life fade from your eyes at the end of my dagger is what makes me the most dangerous warrior the world has ever seen. But there is a side of me that slips me into the web of political affairs without effort. I am charming, I am sarcastic, I am witty, and most of all, I will deceive you until the very end.”

• Armor—Crafted by his own hands, Vaylen wears a set of black leather armor called Phantom Blacks. The light, but tight-fitting, armor protects every joint and major bodily area from slashing attacks, but bludgeoning and piercing damage cannot be evaded. The suit of armor containts a leather breastplate, greaves, shoulder guards, gauntlets, and boots. As for clothing, Vaylen wears a gray tunic beneath his armor along with leather pants. Besides that, the assassin dons black, fingerless leather gloves and a gray silk cloak.

• Weapons— Five throwing knives and two curved daggers called falcatas. His primary falcata, sheathed in a scabbard on the left side of his waist for easy retrieval with his right hand, is called Nightwraith.
His secondary falcata, sheathed at the right side of his waist, is named Goldwraith.

• Unique Item— The Mask of the Wraith. As a family heirloom of Vaylen's unknown and mysterious family, it allows him to bring on the abilities of the wraiths of old. When triggering its effects, he becomes ethereal. When in this translucent form, ranged attacks (arrows, throwing knives, ranged magical attacks, etc.) miss their mark, but melee combat remains unaltered. In addition, when in this contortion, Vaylen can pass through walls and barriers unhindered.

“If you wish to know my past, prove to be my equal. Until then, you will die before my upbringing ever reaches your ears.”

So begins...

Vaylen Stroud's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Princess Aisling of Faolla Character Portrait: Vaylen Stroud Character Portrait: Princess Mika of Ibaolith

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It was a clear black night and the moon was shining so brightly on Faolla, it look as if it, like all of the land it was shining on, was made up of snow. Downstairs, Aisling could hear her father discussing political matters with a stranger, talking about how he'd like to "knock off" a few of Urinac's men. She sighed. Aisling always thought that perhaps instead of hiring assassin's left and right her father should instead focus on the people, who were in the streets freezing and starving. She did not want to end up like their friends at the Kingdom of Yured, or in other words, she didn't want to end up beheaded on the streets in the face of rebellion. In a way, Aisling was glad that the royalty of Yured had been killed. She didn't want to marry their horrible prince anyways and the queen had always been such a drag.

Sick of the inside, Aisling grabbed her cloak and walked outside. The air was chilly and her cheeks turned red against the cold breeze, but she was used to it. In the distance, she could see the villages lanterns flickering and men riding their horses by the water. She smiled. She wanted so badly to be one of them, a villager, free to do what she wanted when she wanted. And then, in that moment, despite the dangers, Aisling decided to fetch her horse and ride into the town. She would be a villager, just for this one night, even if it killed her.

OCC: I tagged all of you so you could see posted has commenced.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Princess Aisling of Faolla Character Portrait: Vaylen Stroud Character Portrait: Princess Mika of Ibaolith

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Vaylen Stroud Character Portrait: Princess Mika of Ibaolith

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Down the grand stone stairway, trying hard to avoid both her father and any servants, Mika tiptoed barefoot. She was dressed in a simple black linen gi, belted tightly at her waist. Her lengthy raven hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. It was easy to see it was done in haste by the long stray tresses that still framed along her clean makeup free face. Upon reaching the last cold stone step, she crouched down peaking around the corner to make sure the coast was clear.

Her heart was just not in to being preached at by her father...or rather listening to him yell about anything that may be bothering today. She also did not want to be bothered with those ditzy ladies in waiting as they dressed her up in all the frills and painted her up as a Christmas toy. And for what you ask?! To have her sit by her father's side while he tended to his affairs, quiet and still like a beautiful statue. She knew this was just in hopes that one of the visiting aristocrats or rulers may want to arrange a marriage to either themselves or a son for some damn treaty. Quite frankly she would rather that never happens. If she never took a husband it was no worry to her. She would rule alone with an iron fist. She would do a better job at making sure her subjects were taken care. This was something she knew for a fact he father had little care for.

After checking in the other direction, and deciding the coast was clear, she wasted little time running still on tiptoes towards the massive wooden doors. She held her breath as she listened at the door for spell. She then darted out and now in full speed, ran to the gardens where she could be at peace.

Taking a moment to regain her wind, Mika couldn't help but giggle on how silly that must of looked if anyone had indeed spotted her. It was like she trying to escape a prison. A prison that she would soon walk back in quite willingly. After a moment it was time to get down to work. She had come out to clear her mind and practice her combat skills. Her father actually was the one who encouraged her to start training at a young age. Always telling her that a great ruler should also be a great warrior willing to go into battle for their country and people if the need called for it. Her concern was more that the people would soon be coming after the monarchy, because of how miserable the citizens were under the kings rule.

Enough! She thought while shaking her head as if trying to free her mind of all these negative thoughts. With a sigh she pressed her hands together as if praying. Digging her bare heels into the soft grassy ground, she took stance to begin her martial art practice.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Princess Aisling of Faolla Character Portrait: Vaylen Stroud Character Portrait: Princess Mika of Ibaolith

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Oh Politics. Tyber's speciality was considered Boring rather to others, but to him... it was life. "Perhaps if we cut spending on the Tower replacements it could..." Tyber said alone, talking to nothing but air. He needed to find a way to dig the people of Faolla out of the dirt or he would end up like Yured. Just the thought sent a shiver up his spine. Ending up like Yured, a poor Kingdom with a Child as ruler. He didn't like Yured, he thought they were dragging Faolla down with them. He wanted to abandon the poor kingdom but he inquired that they could possibly be an asset in the future. "Or we could..." Tyber said as he sat down in a chair overlooking a model of Faolla. He was exaghsted, he had spent the entire day at a political meeting with the rest southern kingdoms, and to be honest, That was the one time he had disliked politics.

Tyber sighed and stood up and stepped down "Advisor!" A small man in a blue cloak walked through the furthest door on the left and ran infront of the City Model. "Yes mi'lord?" The advisor said bowing "Bring me my daughter, we have things to discuss" Tyber said looking through the large glass window overlooking the village. "Yes mi'lord" the advisor walked through the 2nd door on the right and vanished into a hallway.