Shaederra Pantheon
Posted: Thu Sep 22, 2011 10:03 pm
Back Story and Brief Character Description-
Shaederra Pantheon's life started out simply enough. Born the third daughter of a local tavern located in a tiny outskirting village of Zhaltev, Derra spent the better part of her childhood and teenage years looking after her four smaller siblings, and serving as a barmaid in her father's tavern. At first glance, nothing seems out of the ordinary concerning Shaederra, except for the brilliant violet pigmentation to her irises. Hair of the deepest ebony, which shone like moonlight on the waters falls to the concave curve of her lower back, and pale skin like sun-kissed cream, only heighten the illuminosity of her oddly colored eyes. Delicately carved features, in tandem with the heart-shaped curve of her face add a sense of innocence to her gaze. Derra is a small framed woman, rising to just 5'1", and boasting a weight of just over 100 lbs. What she lacks in stature, though, she more than makes up for in character. Witty, quick-tongued, and often referred to as spunky, she has a heart twice the size of herself, and was a favorite in the tavern where she worked until the age of nineteen.
However, shortly after her nineteeth birthday, Derra began to have violent headaches during the day, and began sleepwalking in the evenings, only to wake in the morning complaining of lucid nightmares. She would never remember these encounters, unless a catalyst presented itself, causing a somewhat 'deja vu' like experience. Knowing that magic ran through the Pantheon line, on her mother's side (an elf who hails from Darleon Island itself), her father, Khor, took her to the magistrate's quarters, where she was tested and logged as a magic user. This crushed Derra, who had been betrothed to a local boy she had known since childhood, yet his parents did not wish such a union to spur, afraid that the magic would be passed down to their future grandchildren.
At the tavern, people took to avoiding Derra, whose upbeat spirit was stifled, as few would have anything to do with her. It was not a crime to be a magic user in Eyropa, true, yet it was sort of a stigma, and looked upon as something less than desirable. Depression gripped Derra in an ever-tightening noose, and her father watched, unsure what to do. Derra's mother finally offered an answer, yet not in a form that Derra had ever expected. Magic was more accepted among the elven people, and in truth, Derra's own maternal grandmother had been a formidable mage herself. Her mother suggested that Derra leave to join her kin there, where her power would increase exponentially, under the tutelage of more advanced practicioners.
Upon hearing of her plans to leave, her would-be beau, Harvos, was overcome with anger, thinking she meant to leave him and not spare a thought to his own feelings. He had not shared his parents' thoughts, apparently, yet he had made little effort to voice his own desires, at least to Derra. Derra's eldest brother, Marcov, was to accompany her on this trip, but oh, how often plans do not go the way they should....
Derra and Marcov set off from their village, sticking to side roads and forest paths, comfortable enough with Derra on her black mare Hopper, so named for his spirited prance when agitated, which is almost a hopping motion. Marcov rode their father's roan, a sturdy beast, with an amiable personality. They made quick time towards Keir, which was the place they had intended to spend the following night. Evening fell on the forest paths, and Derra felt a small prickle begin to work its way up her spine. Soon, they stopped, setting up camp, with Marcov gathering some wood for a fire as Derra lit it. Derra's abilities to this point could not span much more than this, as she had no idea how to use her magic, and her mother had been born without the ability.
After a quick sup, the two settled back, talking happily between themselves, as Marcov was planning to join the City Guard of Zhaltev in the near future, and would likely not see Derra again for many years. Midnight came, and found the two fast asleep in their rolls, the fire dying to just a few dying embers. They were not alone, however, and as the shadowed attackers crept close, Derra sat up bolt-right in her roll, large violet eyes reflecting the glow of the fire in their depths, as her voice left her lips in a piercing shriek. Of course, Marcov sat up quickly, grabbing the simple crossbow he carried with him and trying to get a grip on the current situation. The assailants saw this as an offense, and of course, they went first for the larger, more dangerous foe. Marcov put up a valiant fight, shooting one assailant through the throat, as he fell back, a lifeless corpse. They were outnumbered, though, and Derra seemed to be in a catatonic state, lost as she was in the world of her own dreams. Marcov paused in his onslaught, long enough to grab ahold of her shoulders and give her a violent shake. "Snap out of it, or you'll die here, Der!", he yelled, pausing to bring his elbow back into the temple of the man who had attempted to rush him at the back and driving him to the ground. Derra blinked, the filmy haze lifting from her gaze, just in time to see a fired bolt pierce through Marcov's upper left chest. Screaming, she projected a simple barrier around the two of them, able to keep projectiles at bay, as she moved to cradle her brother. His blood flowed freely, from his lips, and she moved to break the arrow, and steep the bleeding. His hand met hers, and he gaze a simple squeeze, along with a slight shake of his head. A single word, the effort to produce the rasping syllable causing a fine spray of blood to project from his mouth, left his lips,"Run....." As Marcov breathed his last, Derra rose, fear giving way to the more intoxicating emotion of anger. Through this anger, a small undercurrent awoke inside her, and she felt a surge of power run through her, unlike anything she'd ever felt. Astral energy, in its most raw form, flooded through her, somehow amplified by the bloody stains which covered her, binding to the surface of her flesh, as she pushed the energy outwards.
What happened was something not seen in ages, the use of blood magic. From the marking caused by the blood spatter, blade-like projections of astral energy shot forth, searing through the air at a high rate. This passed easily through her own protective shield, shattering it on impact, before meeting the first-most assailant head on, cleaving him effectively in half down the middle. Rage fueled the power, and she sent volley after volley at the attackers, til all had either fallen or fled. Exhausted, Derra fell to the ground, passing from concious thought into the peaceful abandon of dreams.
Shaederra awoke in the morning, thinking it all to be another lucid dream, and cradled her head in her hands and cried. All around her, was the broken, bloody bodies of her attackers, and as she calmed, she began to attempt to lay Marcov to rest appropriately. The grim task done near mid-day, she immediately started going through the pockets of the dead men, soon stumbling upon the note writ in a hand she was very familiar with. This note, brief and curt said simply:
"Bring her back, whatever the cost."
-H.B.
Trickery, murder, and kidnapping....she would make him pay dearly for Marcov, but her first priority was to get as close to Darleone Island as possible. There, she could hone her abilities, discover different paths, and seek revenge. But, the hard part was just beginning. She still had hundreds of miles to travel, and now, was alone.
She loving took from her brother his beloved cross-bow, and the small, simple iron dirk he wore about his waist attached by a thick strap of rawhide. She set the roan free, and jumped astride Hopper, setting off at a high pace for the Southwest.
Strengths-
Blood Barrage-
Shaederra exhibits the rare ability to create from blood astral blades. These take on a manipulative form, and according to the desires of the caster, in this case Derra, can span from a mere 1"x1" diameter up to 2'x4". As it is a blood magic, it is a limited ability, unless she has a sufficient substitute for the blood donor, (as in the instance with Marcov). This is also limited by the fact that Derra must be in an angered state, or in grave danger to be able to bond adequately with the astral energy.
Heightened Speed-
Through her mother's blood, Shaederra is capable of moving at a higher rate of speed than a normal human, though still falling well short of the elven speed.
Crossbowmanship-
Shaederra's father had taken the time to show all ten of his children the basics to firing and loading a crossbow, and Derra was no exception. Though she lacks the upper body strength to draw a traditional bow, she is well capable of loading and firing a simple crossbow, and her aim with one on horseback is little short of inspiring.
Determination & Wit-
Though she is small, Derra possesses a catching fervor for whatever she does. She does not give in easily, will not back down from her beliefs, and relies on her wit to wiggle out of tight situations. She is highly intelligent, able to analyze a situation, exploit weaknesses, and use an opponents weaknesses against them in a myriad of ways.
Loyalty-
Shaederra is not one to change her mind on a whim, and she will stand by what she says, and what she thinks is right, despite the situation. Having an overall outgoing, sweet personality, she is easily liked, and very rarely causes any problems. (Let's not mention Farmer Tange's chickens! They completely deserved it!)
Weaknesses-
Physique/Stature-
Derra is very small, and somewhat frail looking, and she still suffers from sometimes debilitating headaches, which come on sporadically.
Control-
Newly embracing her astral abilities, Derra has little to no control over her powers, able to only accomplish simple spells like hide, small fireballs, and the like. As stated above, she can only perform astonishing powers when in a life or death situation, or when so angered that she gives in to the astral energy. This is where here problem lies, though she is not aware of it yet. Being as stubborn, and self-sufficiant as she is, she finds it hard to 'give' herself to her magic, and thus limits her own powers.
Stubborness-
What Shaederra wants, she gets, or there will be hell to pay. Knowing full well her own attractiveness, she is not above using her looks to accomplish her needs. (Fortunate for us, she does not want to rule the world, only to survive, and be free!)
Trusting-
Shaederra is a very loving person, and she trusts people around her well more than she should. Still naive in the ways of the world, she thinks that most people think like her, and this often causes quite a bit of problems for her, especially in the company of strangers.
Possessions-
In Shaederra's possession are very few things.
One, a small silver bracelet that she wears upon her right wrist, was a gift from her mother upon the trip, with the simplistic notation that it could be very useful once she comes into her power.
Hopper- A 3 year old pure black gelding, a gift to her on her departure to Darleone Island. Highly spirited, just like his owner, and favoring crabapples and sweet oats, he responds to very few aside from Derra, and will not deign another rider to sit asride his saddle.
Crossbow-
A simple yew and steel construct, measuring 2' in length, along with a full quiver of 30 bolts, the tips honed to a fine edge and laced with curare. Not always a death shot, but nevertheless painful if a hit is sustained.
(OOC- Eh, this is the best I could do to start, I'd love to know more about Thar Shaddin, it would help immensely with the construction of the story!
Let me know if the character is suitable, or if I need to change anything, and I look forward to engaging in some roleplays here. 
)
Shaederra Pantheon's life started out simply enough. Born the third daughter of a local tavern located in a tiny outskirting village of Zhaltev, Derra spent the better part of her childhood and teenage years looking after her four smaller siblings, and serving as a barmaid in her father's tavern. At first glance, nothing seems out of the ordinary concerning Shaederra, except for the brilliant violet pigmentation to her irises. Hair of the deepest ebony, which shone like moonlight on the waters falls to the concave curve of her lower back, and pale skin like sun-kissed cream, only heighten the illuminosity of her oddly colored eyes. Delicately carved features, in tandem with the heart-shaped curve of her face add a sense of innocence to her gaze. Derra is a small framed woman, rising to just 5'1", and boasting a weight of just over 100 lbs. What she lacks in stature, though, she more than makes up for in character. Witty, quick-tongued, and often referred to as spunky, she has a heart twice the size of herself, and was a favorite in the tavern where she worked until the age of nineteen.
However, shortly after her nineteeth birthday, Derra began to have violent headaches during the day, and began sleepwalking in the evenings, only to wake in the morning complaining of lucid nightmares. She would never remember these encounters, unless a catalyst presented itself, causing a somewhat 'deja vu' like experience. Knowing that magic ran through the Pantheon line, on her mother's side (an elf who hails from Darleon Island itself), her father, Khor, took her to the magistrate's quarters, where she was tested and logged as a magic user. This crushed Derra, who had been betrothed to a local boy she had known since childhood, yet his parents did not wish such a union to spur, afraid that the magic would be passed down to their future grandchildren.
At the tavern, people took to avoiding Derra, whose upbeat spirit was stifled, as few would have anything to do with her. It was not a crime to be a magic user in Eyropa, true, yet it was sort of a stigma, and looked upon as something less than desirable. Depression gripped Derra in an ever-tightening noose, and her father watched, unsure what to do. Derra's mother finally offered an answer, yet not in a form that Derra had ever expected. Magic was more accepted among the elven people, and in truth, Derra's own maternal grandmother had been a formidable mage herself. Her mother suggested that Derra leave to join her kin there, where her power would increase exponentially, under the tutelage of more advanced practicioners.
Upon hearing of her plans to leave, her would-be beau, Harvos, was overcome with anger, thinking she meant to leave him and not spare a thought to his own feelings. He had not shared his parents' thoughts, apparently, yet he had made little effort to voice his own desires, at least to Derra. Derra's eldest brother, Marcov, was to accompany her on this trip, but oh, how often plans do not go the way they should....
Derra and Marcov set off from their village, sticking to side roads and forest paths, comfortable enough with Derra on her black mare Hopper, so named for his spirited prance when agitated, which is almost a hopping motion. Marcov rode their father's roan, a sturdy beast, with an amiable personality. They made quick time towards Keir, which was the place they had intended to spend the following night. Evening fell on the forest paths, and Derra felt a small prickle begin to work its way up her spine. Soon, they stopped, setting up camp, with Marcov gathering some wood for a fire as Derra lit it. Derra's abilities to this point could not span much more than this, as she had no idea how to use her magic, and her mother had been born without the ability.
After a quick sup, the two settled back, talking happily between themselves, as Marcov was planning to join the City Guard of Zhaltev in the near future, and would likely not see Derra again for many years. Midnight came, and found the two fast asleep in their rolls, the fire dying to just a few dying embers. They were not alone, however, and as the shadowed attackers crept close, Derra sat up bolt-right in her roll, large violet eyes reflecting the glow of the fire in their depths, as her voice left her lips in a piercing shriek. Of course, Marcov sat up quickly, grabbing the simple crossbow he carried with him and trying to get a grip on the current situation. The assailants saw this as an offense, and of course, they went first for the larger, more dangerous foe. Marcov put up a valiant fight, shooting one assailant through the throat, as he fell back, a lifeless corpse. They were outnumbered, though, and Derra seemed to be in a catatonic state, lost as she was in the world of her own dreams. Marcov paused in his onslaught, long enough to grab ahold of her shoulders and give her a violent shake. "Snap out of it, or you'll die here, Der!", he yelled, pausing to bring his elbow back into the temple of the man who had attempted to rush him at the back and driving him to the ground. Derra blinked, the filmy haze lifting from her gaze, just in time to see a fired bolt pierce through Marcov's upper left chest. Screaming, she projected a simple barrier around the two of them, able to keep projectiles at bay, as she moved to cradle her brother. His blood flowed freely, from his lips, and she moved to break the arrow, and steep the bleeding. His hand met hers, and he gaze a simple squeeze, along with a slight shake of his head. A single word, the effort to produce the rasping syllable causing a fine spray of blood to project from his mouth, left his lips,"Run....." As Marcov breathed his last, Derra rose, fear giving way to the more intoxicating emotion of anger. Through this anger, a small undercurrent awoke inside her, and she felt a surge of power run through her, unlike anything she'd ever felt. Astral energy, in its most raw form, flooded through her, somehow amplified by the bloody stains which covered her, binding to the surface of her flesh, as she pushed the energy outwards.
What happened was something not seen in ages, the use of blood magic. From the marking caused by the blood spatter, blade-like projections of astral energy shot forth, searing through the air at a high rate. This passed easily through her own protective shield, shattering it on impact, before meeting the first-most assailant head on, cleaving him effectively in half down the middle. Rage fueled the power, and she sent volley after volley at the attackers, til all had either fallen or fled. Exhausted, Derra fell to the ground, passing from concious thought into the peaceful abandon of dreams.
Shaederra awoke in the morning, thinking it all to be another lucid dream, and cradled her head in her hands and cried. All around her, was the broken, bloody bodies of her attackers, and as she calmed, she began to attempt to lay Marcov to rest appropriately. The grim task done near mid-day, she immediately started going through the pockets of the dead men, soon stumbling upon the note writ in a hand she was very familiar with. This note, brief and curt said simply:
"Bring her back, whatever the cost."
-H.B.
Trickery, murder, and kidnapping....she would make him pay dearly for Marcov, but her first priority was to get as close to Darleone Island as possible. There, she could hone her abilities, discover different paths, and seek revenge. But, the hard part was just beginning. She still had hundreds of miles to travel, and now, was alone.
She loving took from her brother his beloved cross-bow, and the small, simple iron dirk he wore about his waist attached by a thick strap of rawhide. She set the roan free, and jumped astride Hopper, setting off at a high pace for the Southwest.
Strengths-
Blood Barrage-
Shaederra exhibits the rare ability to create from blood astral blades. These take on a manipulative form, and according to the desires of the caster, in this case Derra, can span from a mere 1"x1" diameter up to 2'x4". As it is a blood magic, it is a limited ability, unless she has a sufficient substitute for the blood donor, (as in the instance with Marcov). This is also limited by the fact that Derra must be in an angered state, or in grave danger to be able to bond adequately with the astral energy.
Heightened Speed-
Through her mother's blood, Shaederra is capable of moving at a higher rate of speed than a normal human, though still falling well short of the elven speed.
Crossbowmanship-
Shaederra's father had taken the time to show all ten of his children the basics to firing and loading a crossbow, and Derra was no exception. Though she lacks the upper body strength to draw a traditional bow, she is well capable of loading and firing a simple crossbow, and her aim with one on horseback is little short of inspiring.
Determination & Wit-
Though she is small, Derra possesses a catching fervor for whatever she does. She does not give in easily, will not back down from her beliefs, and relies on her wit to wiggle out of tight situations. She is highly intelligent, able to analyze a situation, exploit weaknesses, and use an opponents weaknesses against them in a myriad of ways.
Loyalty-
Shaederra is not one to change her mind on a whim, and she will stand by what she says, and what she thinks is right, despite the situation. Having an overall outgoing, sweet personality, she is easily liked, and very rarely causes any problems. (Let's not mention Farmer Tange's chickens! They completely deserved it!)
Weaknesses-
Physique/Stature-
Derra is very small, and somewhat frail looking, and she still suffers from sometimes debilitating headaches, which come on sporadically.
Control-
Newly embracing her astral abilities, Derra has little to no control over her powers, able to only accomplish simple spells like hide, small fireballs, and the like. As stated above, she can only perform astonishing powers when in a life or death situation, or when so angered that she gives in to the astral energy. This is where here problem lies, though she is not aware of it yet. Being as stubborn, and self-sufficiant as she is, she finds it hard to 'give' herself to her magic, and thus limits her own powers.
Stubborness-
What Shaederra wants, she gets, or there will be hell to pay. Knowing full well her own attractiveness, she is not above using her looks to accomplish her needs. (Fortunate for us, she does not want to rule the world, only to survive, and be free!)
Trusting-
Shaederra is a very loving person, and she trusts people around her well more than she should. Still naive in the ways of the world, she thinks that most people think like her, and this often causes quite a bit of problems for her, especially in the company of strangers.
Possessions-
In Shaederra's possession are very few things.
One, a small silver bracelet that she wears upon her right wrist, was a gift from her mother upon the trip, with the simplistic notation that it could be very useful once she comes into her power.
Hopper- A 3 year old pure black gelding, a gift to her on her departure to Darleone Island. Highly spirited, just like his owner, and favoring crabapples and sweet oats, he responds to very few aside from Derra, and will not deign another rider to sit asride his saddle.
Crossbow-
A simple yew and steel construct, measuring 2' in length, along with a full quiver of 30 bolts, the tips honed to a fine edge and laced with curare. Not always a death shot, but nevertheless painful if a hit is sustained.
(OOC- Eh, this is the best I could do to start, I'd love to know more about Thar Shaddin, it would help immensely with the construction of the story!
Let me know if the character is suitable, or if I need to change anything, and I look forward to engaging in some roleplays here. )