Description
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
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...
The Lahanian EmpryeaIn 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...
She nodded. "I am certain that will be taken care of..." She took the items ever so gingerly, and crossed the ring of candles, placing each item very gently on the ground atop the grave. She vacated the ring again and turned back to Whisper. "It is said that to bring the dead back to the living, you must pay, and pay, and pay again. Your pendant is the first toll." She held out her hand, having retrieved a small knife in the other. "Offer the second."
She held the girl's fingers to hold the hand still, then aimed the tip of her knife down onto Whisper's palm. Without a struggle, the smalest of pricks would strike her skin, allowing a small trickle of blood to flow. The knife, though ordinary in most respects, had indeed been consecrated for sacred rituals such as this one. She held a small vial under the wound, allowing what blood would come out of the wound to flow into the container.
She held the vial tightly, yet gingerly, making sure that it would not break. She resumed a position at the apex of the candle ring, opposite the meager marker. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. After a pause, the words began to flow. They were quiet at first, and slow. A simple chant in an unknown tongue. Moments draggon on to minutes, which seemed to pass slower than they should. A very long time passed when nothing, save the quiet murmuring of the priestess, happened. Too much nothing. The world grew still, animals quiet, even the sky seemed to stop moving as the words tumbled from her mouth. Then, the whole area seemed to....vibrate. It felt perhaps like a tiny earthquake, but the whole place rumbled, pulsed, resonated with what could only presume was the calm before the storm.
Dallas Reiger strolled in and took a seat at the bar, just like always.
Among all the goings-on in the bar, none captured the woman's attention quite like the sudden and relatively intrusive entrance of someone falling from the sky, or rather a portal therein. She winced visibly as she watched him land, and smiled a bit when she saw him at least able to move himself from the table to a chair. She turned to the on-duty bartender and pointed at the latest arrival. "Send him a whiskey for the pain, on me." She took a few coins from her pouch and tossed them on the bar.
Dallas Reiger looks at Norrington and raises a curious brow. "Почему вы говорите?" She smiled faintly.
Her brows lifted in surprise. "I can see your distaste for him." If she seemed phased by his claim of being dead, despite his standing before her, she didn't show it. "And no, I don't. But I have studied the various languages of Earth for a long time. "Anataha hokano gengo wo hanashi masuka?"
She chuckled softly, both at Norrington's reply, as well as his exchange with the new tender on duty. She eyed over the newcomer rather suspiciously, though her smile did not fade from her lips.
As her knowledge of languages was more bookish than real-life, she didn't take notice in the oddity of his accent. No matter, she smiled at him just the same. "Indeed, though I find this one quite interesting. It's been my experience that undead are much more...feral." She kept half an eye on Adrian, her staff pulsing faintly at his presence. "Yes, I do, actually. How about yourself?"
"Business?" She repeated. The idea intrigued her- of all the things she had been requested to do in her life, hunting zombies had not been among them. Not that it hadn't happened, it just wasn't usually something she was hired to do. "Interesting proposition." It was said almost dismissively, as though until the situation would present itself, she'd likely not give it another thought.
"Dallas Reiger." The name sounded...abrupt, as though more should follow. She pursed her lips thoughtfully at his suggestion, and finally nodded. "I suppose I need to be taking a more proactive role around Wing City."
She took the paw and gave it a shake, chuckling as she did so. "Oh, of course.
Dallas Reiger rose to leave as well, remembering some tasks she had to attend to.
Dallas Reiger oh bollocks..
Dallas Reiger reposts to set the scene!
She held the vial tightly, yet gingerly, making sure that it would not break. She resumed a position at the apex of the candle ring, opposite the meager marker. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. After a pause, the words began to flow. They were quiet at first, and slow. A simple chant in an unknown tongue. Moments draggon on to minutes, which seemed to pass slower than they should. A very long time passed when nothing, save the quiet murmuring of the priestess, happened. Too much nothing. The world grew still, animals quiet, even the sky seemed to stop moving as the words tumbled from her mouth. Then, the whole area seemed to....vibrate. It felt perhaps like a tiny earthquake, but the whole place rumbled, pulsed, resonated with what could only presume was the calm before the storm.
After a time, it seemed as though the vibrating grew...nearer. Not simply louder, but physcially closer, if that were a possibility. And clearer, until the simple vibrations grew and became the distinct beats of drums. Hundreds, maybe thousands, all in time. The tempo was rapid, eager, even rabid, like a stampede of horses, foraming at the mouth, straining against their reins, eager to be free once again. All the while words fell, nearly silent beneath the rancor, from the lips of one holy woman. There was a strange and subtle change about her features as the process went on, she seemed younger somehow, more youthful. Her skin gave off the glow of a blushing bride, or perhaps a mother-to-be. A wind kicked up around her form, not as lashing as a storm, but enough to carry off the lengths of snow-white locks that typically flowed down her back, and toss them about like a blizzard on the current.
It was at that moment, when it would be that Whisper would feel it. The drumbeat pushed at her, down to her core, and it was there where it would send a jolt through her body. As though she were being burned from within, the searing pain of tearing soul from flesh, spiritual from corporeal, the demon from its host. And then the drumbeat would pierce at her heart, bidding it to live once more, to march in time with its own rhythm.
