Rhael
(#43818)
The Bloody Maiden
Familiar
Sunspot Clouddancer
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Lightning.
Female Skydancer
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.99 m
Wingspan
6.35 m
Weight
639.09 kg
Genetics
Brown
Ribbon
Ribbon
Auburn
Striation
Striation
Orange
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Skydancer
Max Level
STR
105
AGI
13
DEF
52
QCK
60
INT
5
VIT
33
MND
6
Biography
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 RHAEL ★ A merchants daughter turned Knight Commander turned renegade. She was one of the main leaders during the Rovanian war twenty years ago, and led Q'edan to triumph along side a few other key players. Although technically good, she became widely known as The Bloody Maiden due to her unorthodox war tactics, iron fist, and ruthlessness. Her feats, which include the single-handed slaughter of an entire enemy troupe, gained her both recognition and fear across Q'edan. After the war, she was court-martialed for her actions but was never accused of any actual war crimes. She was, however, discharged from the military after being found unsuitable for service. Not satisfied with how things had been left, she took matters into her own hands and began hunting down the remaining Rovanian commanders and generals, eventually turning her attention toward criminals and runaways. Since then, she has continued to work as a bounty hunter and has become notorious for never letting a bounty get away alive. INFORMATION ★
STORY ★ Cold, arid nights spent alone huddled close to a dwindling fire were nothing new to the former Knight Commander. Howling wind rattled the worn canvas shelter she sat beneath, loose sand flying over and around the makeshift tent at an alarming rate. Her teeth clenched against the chill, the grip on her coat tightening as she pulled it tighter around herself while flames that danced wildly in the winds reflected in her good eye. With her free hand she tossed a couple of twigs into the fire, completely rapt in the way the flames devoured the fodder, it's growth evident in the way her cheeks warmed. Nights like this often felt like some of the longest. With cold winds too biting to sleep through and swept up sands too thick to travel through, a lone soul was left with few things left to do but think. Sometimes those thoughts were of the present- of where to go, what to eat, and who to see. They were mundane things like planning her route the next day, going over the details of a bounty for the dozenth time, easy things that took little energy. Other times, those long nights became all the longer when thoughts ebbed away from the present and into the past. Memories of bodies pressed close around a fire, of hearty laughter and shared drinks. Fleeting touches and stolen kisses under the dark cover of trees. Those were the dangerous thoughts. She sighed, adjusting her hood so it sheltered more of her face. Certainly, having the company of others (six others, specifically- not that she was counting) made the nights pass quicker and the days feel brighter, but those days were long gone. Twenty years gone, in fact. What had once been was no longer possible, not for all the miracles in the world. One dead, one vanished, and the others.. Her thoughts trailed off there, for the better, probably, as it was one of the others who always found a way to burrow themselves deep in her head once they were there. Twenty years apart and still he was there, always in the back of her head, he always had been stubborn. His voice still as smooth, his face still crystal clear- tanned skin coloured darker by the sun, dark hair that always looked best tousled by wind and sweat, kind eyes the colour of sea glass- Her teeth clenched tighter. Morning couldn't come fast enough. Even if some twisted fate did bring them all back together, nothing would be the same. No longer would there be shared comfort in closeness. Some, she knew, would remain close, elbow to elbow and knee to knee, but others (herself included) would keep their distance, now more occupied with who to watch and who to avoid. Laughter would be traded for private whispers and curt conversations, which would all to knowingly evolve into heated arguments. And the only sharing (the only touching) that would be done would be of loud opinions and fists to faces. But what else should be expected when people who are forced together during wartimes no longer have that same drive- no longer have war to be the thing that keeps them united. It was only a matter of time before they drifted apart, found their own paths. Some just drifted faster than others, despite the stubborn pleas from tanned skin and sea glass eyes to stay. Their paths, although similar, weren't the same. Maybe they never had been. And now, with twenty years gone between them, there wasn't a hint of convergence left. The sole fact that she was sitting alone, cold, in the dead of night, somewhere in the middle of the Q'edanian desert, chasing after a bounty, while he slept in a warm bed in Raa Shak, resting from a days work of sword training young hopefuls- that in itself was proof enough for her. Some people were benevolent, others were cruel. Some people believed in second chances, others believed in retribution. Some people were good, others, were not. They were two different people. Always had been, always were, and always would be. Nothing could, or would, change that. The metal of her sword clanked against its sheath as she buckled the chest strap, securing the weapon on her back. Hands patting off the layer of sand that had attached itself to her in the night. Flickers of light shone on the horizon like a beacon, informing the world of a new day, while the remaining embers of light from her fire were snuffed beneath her boot, putting an end to the night. She had lost track of her prey- the sandstorm had made sure of that, but there was no doubt in her mind that she would find them again. Somewhere ahead there would be a trail, and she would find it. Because somewhere ahead was a person on the run from the law, and she was their justice. RELATIONS ★
ART ★ | x |
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