Welcome to Gaia! ::

<... What happened to my profile? Did you delete it Panthera? Ah well. Since thou hast said nothing to me, I shall pollute thy thread with another, unless thou tellest me nay. I have nothing better to do, like study for finals...>


Character name: Rayel
Race: Human
Age: early thirties
Gender: Female
Class: Paladin
Weapons: Sword of Damascus steel, blessed to do extra damage to the undead
Special abilities: Typical paladin abilites: lay on hands, flaming sword, shield, turn undead, and my personal favorite, SMITE!!!!! Has very minor thieving abilities, and a strange thing with the number five...
Appearance: Has long blonde hair and a wellformed figure, quite beautiful until she turns to face you. Rayel is severely disfigured by burns, but clear blue eyes peer out from her charbroiled face.
Personality: A deeply pious woman, for none are more devoted than the once fallen. The woman loves to laugh and adores music, having a good voice herself. Also loves to dance, although she has no ability. Often laughs at her own disfigurement; however, she often finds an excuse to wear her helmet. Although not particularly intelligent, the woman makes up for it in wisdom and patience. Has a deep connection with her horse, Cheiron.
Other Equipment: Rayel bears her shield with great pride, which has a Cross Crosslet Fitchee on a field of vert and argent and two yew trees. Wears thick armor, bloody and dented, which she refuses to wash or get rehammered, much to the dismay of her companions.
Short Bio: Rayel was once known as Krigr, a bloodthirsty mercenary and petty thief. She was thrown in prison for many years, converting to the faith of the Merciful God. The woman took her oaths after being released, and spent many years traveling the lands, seeking penance. Rayel was knighted after her courageous stand at the Massacre of West Lurander, when a mad dragon attacked an unprotected village (the dragon was very weak, I am not godmodding, my character is in no way an expert dragon killer). Rayel distracted the dragon, giving the villagers time to escape, almost at the cost of her life. She was greviously injured, receiving burns she will probably bear until the end of her life.

"I'm a sorceress, not a conjurer!" Pyro snapped testily. "If I could just create food I wouldn't stop in places like these anyway." She took a rather large swig from her mug. "But, of course, if there are any of my services that you could use, they will be provided for a decent price." She smiled winningly.
((last post 'til sun, maybe mon))

Rayel rode into town, peering out at the village through the slant in her visor. A few wandering peasants gaped at her obviously; it was rare to see knights these days, they had a nasty tendency to get themselves killed, and there were to volunteers to replace them. In these dark times no one wanted to be the protector of the people, and few believed in a kind or just god anymore.

The paladin shifted uncomfortably, urging her horse to the nearest town. Cheiron whickered comfortingly, sensing her unease. Patting the horse on the nose, Rayel swung off her steed and led him into the stable.

The knight entered the inn tentatively, her unseen eyes sweeping over the strange collection of tavern dwellers. She slid into the nearest seat at an empty table, trying very hard to look strong and heroic. Her efforts were wasted when a tavern boy asked her for what she wanted to drink.

Rayel swallowed nervously, and said in the most impressive voice she could muster, "A root beer."

The few men who could hear her reply sniggered. No one would take a person who wouldn't drink seriously. Rayel's ears burned, which was thankfully hidden by her thick helmet. Part of her longed to order the strongest drink they had and prove to those men that she could hold her liquor. She knew she could drink any of these men under the table; Krigr had been known as a heavy drinker.

Rayel shook her head, as if hoping to shake her old identity from her. Her deeds would speak for themselves; she didn't need to impress a bunch of tavern scum. However, she shifted, allowing the men a better view of her sword.

Meri laughed and indicated to the barkeep to give the lady another drink. "We're all headin' somewhere, hopefuly bigger thin's" He glanced down the bar at the lady in fullplate. He wasn't completely sure how he knew she was a lady, being in fullplate armour and all, but he knew. Maybe it was her voice or what she ordered. He shrugged it off and turned his attention back to Pyro.

"So, how did ye earn such a name as Pyro? Ye like fire?"

It was Rayel's own fault for falling asleep in a tavern.

She awoke suddenly, finding dirty fingers exploring the contents of the small bag of money she kept hidden in her armor. Shouting, the knight leapt to her feet and threw the man to the floor in her excitement.

The man stood up dramatically, his friends flocking to his side. Rayel swallowed nervously, looking around herself. She wasn't good at fighting in closed quarters; she might hit someone innocent.

She didn't have to worry about that. People were tripping over themselves to get away, claiming new tables far from the anticipated brawl.

Rayel pulled out her sword smoothly, slashing the air for effect. She didn't want to fight. The knight had a feeling that slicing these bandits' throats open wouldn't endear her to the people she wanted to help. Neither could she escape this fight, her honor would not allow it.

The men ended her deliberating. One of the thieves had snuck up behind her and had stabbed the weak point at the back of the knees. Gasping with pain, Rayel fell to her knees. Mistaking her stumble for weakness, the men attacked.

The paladin ran her sword through the first man stupid enough to charge her, and the mob backed up. Soon the air was filled with flying knives, most of which bounced harmlessly off her armor. Using her sword Rayel pulled herself up, biting her lip to keep from screaming with pain. Trying not stumble she strode towards the now frightened men, murmuring spells under her breath.

"Defixiones!" she cried, blue light enveloping one of the men, freezing him in place.
Some of the men fled out the door now, but a few remained. One, presumably the leader, grabbed a nearby villager.

"Drop your sword knight," he hissed, his knife at the young man's throat.

Feeling very tired, Rayel let her sword clatter to the ground. One of the bandits, an especially filthy woman, scurried up and grabbed the blade, looking to his master for further direction.

"Now take off your helmet," the man said with obvious pleasure, giving a hand signal to his lackey. The dirty woman held the sword up, with the obvious intent to cut Rayel's throat.

The woman took off her helmet, staring directly into the man's now horrified eyes. The room became deadly quiet, with the exception of a faint scream. Taking advantage of the moment, Rayel snatched her sword back and lobbed it across the room. The blade lodged itself comfortably in the thief's stomach, although it cut the side of his hostage.

"Damn," the knight swore, staggering over to the bleeding victim. "Sanctus sanctus, agnes dei misere nobis, sanctus sanctus," she murmured, her hands placed on the wound. Don't let him die because of me Rayel pleaded.

There was blood everywhere, the young man's, the thief's, and hers. She was losing the boy, Rayel could feel him slipping away. "For the love of God, is there a healer?" she cried in desperation, tears running down her face.

The paladin continued to sob, but now with relief. "Thank you," she mumbled, suddenly embarassed. Keeping her head down she searched for her helmet, finally picking it up and pulling it over her deformed face.

Pretending not to notice the whispers and pointing fingers, the knight pulled out her bag and poured the contents onto the wooden counter. "For repairs," she said quietly to the innkeeper, not wanting to disrupt the beautiful music. The man nodded rapidly, his eyes carefully avoiding hers. "And please," Rayel continued, now whispering, "give a generous amount to your bard."

Again Rayel found herself wishing her oaths didn't include a promise to abstain from alcohol. She badly needed a drink. Returning to her now flat root beer, the knight sat back down at her table, closing her eyes as she listened to the calming music. She could feel his magic and allowed herself to enjoy it as part of the art.

Meri slowly stood, helping the guy to his feet as he did. The young man smiled at the bard before running out of the tavern. A pair of burly men walked in after the young man left and started dragging bodies out. One of them nodded towards Den, the tavern owner and Den nodded back, turning towards the scarred paladin.

"Miss I don't hold with theives in my tavern. Keep your coin. As for Meri, if you want to pay for something he does of his own free will, go ahead, but he won't accept it either."

The bard slowly finished his song. A collective sigh of enjoyment went up from the nearby people, the ones who got most of the magical effect. The bard returned to the bar and sat back down next to Pyro.

"Now, where were we?" he asked, a second before a massive roar rang out through the town. Meri froze, recognising the roar. It was that of a dragon. And it was followed by a second roar. "Fo the love of-" Meri stopped as he charged outside.

He turned to face the sources of the roars and found a large green and a larger black dragon attacking the town.

((Okay, I'm going to control the dragons, because, even though they are mid-age, they won't be taken down easily.))

Meri, his face completly blank pulled out a small vial and offered it to the paladin. "Unfortuantly, yes, I know how to kill them. Now, pour this over your leg wound, it will heal it. I don't want to use a spell when I don't absolutely have to. And don't say no or I will spend time healing more than just your leg."

Meri's accent had gone and, while he was talking, he focussed intently on the leading black dragon. The dragon roared and Meri replied by singing and weaving a spell into his song.