[hider=Pithy] [b]Name:[/b] Pithy [b]Alias:[/b] The Lady in White [b]Race:[/b] Elf [b]Sex:[/b] Female [b]Class:[/b] Spellsword [b]Appearance:[/b] Pithy stands at 5’10’’ and still retains the youthful appearance of someone in their early twenties. While still young compared to others of her kind, her actual age triples that. She is possessed of the pointed ears intrinsic to her kind, and, like many elves, her body and features are gracefully sculpted in a manner that lends her svelte, pale form a sharp, almost ethereal quality. However, many would be admirers have been turned away by the regal bearing with which she conducts herself, and the severe stare of her left, icy blue eye. Her right eye and cheek are mostly obscured under a swath of cascading, black hair, but she does not seem inconvenienced by this. So far, few have seen her right eye, but many have noticed crystalline shapes peeking from under the cover of her hair, almost as if concealing a mask of jagged ice. During her years traveling through human lands and becoming acquainted with several passing adventurers, she has picked up some of their taste in dressing. Her most recent choice in attire consists of complimenting, off-white tunic and cotton leggings. The loose tunic is fastened around her waist with a black belt, allowing the hemline to reach her hips like a particularly short skirt. Covering slender fingers, she wears black, leather gloves reaching to the middle of her forearms over her tunic’s sleeves. She also wears long, black leather boots over her leggings, reaching just below her knee. Projecting metal plates designed to protect the wearer’s knees are affixed to the end of her boots, the only form of armor in her outfit. Above it all, she tends to wear a set of cowled, vivid blue robes with golden thread marking the finishes at the seams, fastened by a clasp bearing an inlaid insignia shaped as an open rose. The hemline of the robe splits at the height of her hip at the front and descends until it reaches her back, at the height of her ankles, in the manner of a long, triangular coattail. She often wears the item as one would a cloak, letting the long, wide sleeves of the ensemble fall limply to her sides. [b]Equipment:[/b] Pithy is most often a light traveler, and beyond her apparel, the only noteworthy items she keeps on herself are a pair of daggers and a rapier. - [i]Guardian Robe[/i]: The robes she wears have been enchanted to resist the elements and the wear and tear of long journeys. However, the enchantment isn’t designed as armor, so it provides little defense against the force of incoming blows, and strong attacks are likely to cut through the fabric. Its value is largely sentimental. - [i]Daggers:[/i] Short weapons with pointed tips better suited for thrusts. The daggers themselves are of decent quality, but ultimately quite ordinary, and Pithy is just as likely to use them to clean her nails or to prepare a meal in a pinch as to use them in an altercation. - [i]Rapier[/i]: She bought this item off a traveling merchant on the road who knew nothing of the weapon beyond the fact that it looked expensive. The slender and elegant weapon is made of a silver-hued material, something that, should it be lacking in protective enchantments, would never manage to endure the abuse Pithy has put the weapon through. The hilt was crafted in the shape of a flower closing its petals, leaving an opening on one side to hold the handle, and meeting at the pommel to form a vicious spike. While the outstanding beauty and endurance of the weapon are interesting in their own rights, it was not what made the rapier so peculiar. The crafter, upon creating the weapon, had inlaid a series of runes along the inside of the flower shaped hilt, transforming the rapier into a focal point, allowing for a more precise and efficient use of magic channeled through it. For all intents and purposes, someone had crafted a magic wand and given it the shape of a duelist’s sword. As far as she is concerned, it was worth far more than what she spent on it. [b]Abilities:[/b] Pithy is precise and quick on her feet, an experienced and nimble swordfighter basing much of her style on swift, pinpoint strikes meant to shatter or bypass opponents defenses. Occasionally, she makes use of side-arms, such as the daggers she carries with her. While Pithy’s education in arcane matters was expansive and she retains knowledge of several disciplines, due to binding an elemental spirit of ice, her magic has become aspected. While this means that cryomancy comes naturally to her, other forms of magic suffer. The other elements will not obey her most of the time, illusion spells sap the heat from their surroundings, and the use of healing magic on deep wounds is likely to inflict frostbite on the recipient before significant progress is made. Even using it on herself is risky. Only a few simple cantrips remain relatively useful, such as a ward that alerts her to people entering a designated space while she sleeps. Magic intended to cause harm, however, comes naturally. Her ice magic excels in combat and does manage to supplement her fighting style, allowing her to cover surfaces with ice, summon barriers, sharp icicles, blasts of frigid wind, or blades and shields, should she need the extra armament. The colder the environment, the easier it is for her to summon her magic, and formations of ice may become weapons for her to levitate or explode into sharp shards. Additionally, her magic allows her to stand steady even in surfaces covered by slick ice. This means that the longer a battle against her lasts, the deadlier she becomes. Conversely, this also means that she is at a disadvantage in specific environments or against foes adept at fiery magics who can counter the cold. One of the simplest, yet most effective uses of her magic is to focus some of her frigid power into her rapier, an act facilitated by the runes within the guard. The weapon will be enveloped by a whitish glow in this state, and anything it touches will begin to freeze while the charged blade remains in contact. Foes will find their bodies slowing and numbing with the scathingly cold touch of her blade, and any unfortunate victim of a thrusting lunge may find their wounds freezing from within until the weapon is dislodged. [b]Fighting Style:[/b] Pithy is adept at fighting at both medium range and close range. When confronting far-off opponents, she often uses her rapier in its capacity as a magical focus, summoning icicles and blades of ice to harry them, using her sword like a conductor’s baton. If her foe needs to be at close range to properly fight her – particularly if such a foe can clearly overpower her in close quarters – she will put effort into keeping her distance, be that by blasting the enemy away with wind, pressuring them with flying shards of ice, or backpedaling to safer positions. If an enemy manages to break through, she might then decide to engage them as close-quarters. Conversely, if the enemy gains the advantage in a long-range battle, she may use this magic as cover to flee and search for a better battlefield, or to close the distance. As a close-range fighter, Pithy is a masterful fencer, adept at breaking through opponents’ guards and punishing their mistakes. Occasionally she will also use a dagger in her off-hand if she thinks a second weapon will give her opportunities to harm her opponent. She has even been known to remove her robe and wrap it over her off-hand to obscure her main weapon, restrain the opponents’ arm, or, if needed, throwing it at them as a distraction. In the latter case, she has used her blasts of wind to force the cape to billow onto an enemy’s face. Regarding magic in close quarters, Pithy can channel a freezing aura into her rapier, but channeling complex spells through a catalyst while it is being used in a swordfight is much too unwieldy. In such cases, she will usually channel magic through her left hand, though the resulting spells are not nearly so precise in the heat of battle. Because of this, she favors blasts of winds, the occasional icicle suddenly sprouting from the ground, and spells which may cause rapid freezing of an area. As an example, a battle against a similar duelist was settled by Pithy goading her opponent into lounging at her, and then dropping a mote of magic onto the stone floor at the right moment. The floor was suddenly covered in a sheet of ice, and her enemy slipped, leaving them defenseless. [b]Personality:[/b] Serious. Distant. Cold. Harsh. All decent adjectives when it comes to describing Pithy’s mannerisms, and yet a steadfast dignity seems to hold her together at the base. It might have been that which led some of the people she has traveled with to make wagers as to whether they could crack a warm smile out of those lips instead of the usual displeased grimace or sneer. While often regarded as practical, even opportunistic by some’s standards, Pithy values organization and efficiency, and can appear methodical to the point of perfectionism. Indeed, the intense, analytical manner with which she tends to observe her surroundings tends to make her seem even more unapproachable. It might be for the best, for those that are more perceptive have claimed to occasionally notice a frightening bitterness in her exposed eye. One thing that tends to infuriate her occasional companions is that, while she normally does not mince words, whenever she stumbles upon a piece of information another happens not to have, she has the irritating inclination observed in many wizards and magically touched beings to treat it as a secret worth keeping regardless of how insignificant it might be. [b]Bio:[/b] Both Pithy’s bearing and choice in weaponry give poignant hints towards her origins, and, despite certain differences between elven and human social structures, one would not be wrong in assuming she had a noble’s upbringing. Her parents were Guardians, powerful knights and spellcasters, bound to spirits of the forest and dedicated to the defense of their woodland enclave. Much reverence was given to this order, and they were treated as one would treat the most respected aristocracy. However, neither Pithy’s intense gaze nor severe manner suggests the fact that she was born the talentless, sickly foil to her twin sister. Now, elves bearing more than one child – twins, no less – is an odd occurrence, and much was expected of them. Both were trained in the art of fencing by their parents and were tutored in matters of the arcane from an early age along with a few other prospective mages, but where her sister would excel, exhibiting a talent matching, even exceeding that of their parents and earning the praise and admiration of her teachers and peers, Pithy would struggle to so much as match the prowess of the lowliest magical pupil. Parents should love their children regardless of their shortcomings, and despite Pithy’s failures, hers always tried to reassure her. She needed not worry, this was simply not her calling; they loved her all the same. They did not understand how their every word of compassion wounded her, each an admission that she was inferior to her sibling. Her sister was the strong one, the compassionate one, the warm one, the talented one, and even though they looked virtually identical, Pithy began to feel more and more as if even her appearance was a vicarious imitation of her sister’s. How could she compare if she never stood a chance? How were they different? Why was she the one born weak? And so frustration and bitterness festered. She devoted herself to studying and training, from sunrise to dark’s fall, always pushing for perfection. She sparred often, striking matches with her sister, her parents when available, and other knights, slowly refining her techniques until she grew into a swift and precise duelist. She poured over magic tomes, seeking to achieve with focus and execution what she could not with power, but despite her best efforts, it was never enough to best her better half. Those around her made note of her progress, of her persistence, and many were proud of her, her family included. But it was never enough. She despaired, and could see her sister’s encouraging smiles as little else than mocking gestures. One day, Pithy left. If she was a full-fledged Guardian, bound in pact to the spirits of the forest, she could defeat her sister. But that would not be allowed. She was too young, too impatient, too unlike her, said her parents and mentors. They knew nothing. She travelled to the frozen north, blinded by thoughts of reprisal. She had read of spirits of the tundra. Hungry wraiths, seeking warmth and life in a land that had none, haunting unwary travelers. If she could not match her sister on her own, she would use the spirit’s power. Using sorceries, she entrapped a spirit of the land, forcing it into a pact that bound it to her, lending Pithy its powers. This greatly empowered the potency of her offensive magic and strengthened her weak body. Upon her return, riding a tide of murmurs and worried, shifting glances, she strode to her sister’s presence and demanded a duel. The encounter was a close one, and it left much of the arena frozen in ice, but in the end, Pithy could not surpass her sister. The duel ended with Pithy kneeling before her better half, clutching her wounds before the judgmental eyes of a whole settlement. They knew what she had done, the origin of the power she wielded. Regardless of appearance, it had been taken forcefully, a chain’s binding, not a pact’s honor. It did not belong to their home, to the Guardians, and neither did she. Not anymore. So her sister told her, before turning her back to her. Pithy’s backstab was intercepted by her father’s blade, and she was restrained by her mother’s magic. Only her family’s mercy, unwanted as it was, spared her. She was kept in restraints until she recovered, and was promptly exiled from her woodland home. Since then, her life has been spent on the roads. She never stopped searching for ways to magnify and improve her control over her spellcraft, a task she pursues with an almost resigned abandon. One can most often find her trailing rumors of magical artifacts found in any corner of the world. Recently however, her focus has shifted away from empowering magics and turned towards stabilizing it. Some say she is delving into magics involving the soul. Those she has interviewed in recent years all claim there was a quiet desperation in the woman’s inquiries, something quite unlike her previous research. One such inquiry brought her to the town of Bren, where an annual tournament dedicated to the eight Elemental Lords that ruled nature in her world was being held, and not just any tournament. The Lords were rumored to preside over the contest themselves (she forced herself to think this way, as the certainty in Bren’s citizens’ recollection of previous tournaments baffled her. Why would the Elemental Lords hold that human city in such high regard?). The winner was said to be granted a wish by their chosen patron god, should they be chosen as their representatives in the preliminaries and later rise above the rest of the chosen. Pithy allowed herself a sliver of hope and participated in the tournament under the banner of the Ice Lord, but although she bested the one who would go on to become Wind’s representative, she was not chosen herself. Scorned by her chosen god and fresh out of leads, Pithy remained in the town for a few days to tend to her wounds and think. Once she was healed, Pithy resolved to leave town and seek a previously abandoned lead. However, before she could step through the city gates, a scholar appeared, offering her a second chance on her heart’s desire. [b]Wish:[/b] A pact born from violence and submission comes at a price. While Pithy’s body was healed from its weakness upon binding a spirit of the land to her soul, crystal did not sprout from her flesh until much later. Research into the matter, along with the onset of sudden, troubling dreams have given her reason to believe that the wraith she brought into herself has begun to eat away at its restraints. Unfortunately, due to the nature of the pact – the spirit now more akin to a part of herself – she cannot reinforce the bindings she used to bend it to her will in the first place without causing irreparable damage to her own soul in the process. If left unchecked for too long, possession of this sort will invariably result in the soul of the victim being snuffed out like a candle, leaving something monstrous in its place. While she has come across many different methods for exorcising vengeful spirits, to break the bond that ties them together would be no different from forfeiting all the power she sought in her youth. To her, this is a fate worse than death, so she is desperately searching for a way to subdue the spirit without severing her connection to it. [b]Echo:[/b] A brook in a forest, loosely flanked by trees and vegetation. A few small paths snake out from the landmark, likely left behind by the passage of animals. The stream is calm and shallow, and one can easily make it across without touching the water by stepping on the stones resting on its bed. In a simpler when, Pithy used to watch her sister play in the shore from the arms of her mother. A childhood memory better left forgotten. [b]Frenzy[/b]: A beautiful figurine of a maiden sculpted in ice, except for those fingers which end in too sharp the points to be called anything other than claws, and the whitish glow that seems to emanate from behind what seems to be an impression of a jagged masquerade mask, and the way the figure’s lips part in such a way that it seems to be perpetually locked into a surprised gasp… or the beginnings of a scream. In this state, ice spreads from Pithy’s right eye to the rest of her body, indeed [i]becomes[/i] ice. Even the hair on her head acquires a crystalline hue and seems to jingle as the strands chime against each other. Now more akin to a golem, and unlimbered by the limitations of a flesh and blood body, she moves with supernatural alacrity and monstrous strength. However, where once that body moved with the polished grace of a dancer and the focus of a veteran fencer, this beautiful sculpture fights with the ferocity of a starved animal, rapier abandoned in favor of claws and sharp spikes of ice. In combat, she will attempt to defend against attacks that threaten the chest and the head (heart and brain). Blows to the limbs do not inconvenience her, and will quickly regrown even if a foe manages to crush the hard crystal. In fact, the body is animated solely by magic at this point, accounting for its newfound strength and agility. This incredibly precise control is not limited to the body either, as she is now able to summon chilling wind and control multiple icicles and flying blades as though it was second nature. More than second nature, perhaps. [b]Inventory:[/b] - Phylactery - [url=http://www.ruger.com/products/redhawk/images/5001.jpg].44 Ruger[/url]: Six-chambered, double-action. - Polaroid - Trickshot Jo's Phylactery - [url=https://img1.etsystatic.com/000/0/5116673/il_570xN.203632881.jpg]Derringer Necklace[/url] - [url=http://i.ebayimg.com/00/s/NTAwWDI2NA==/z/hMEAAOxySoJTViN2/$_3.JPG?set_id=2]Watch[/url] - Religious Cutlass [b]Mountain Dew's Inventory[/b] (Does not account for equipment listed on his CS)[b]:[/b] - [url=http://cmzone.vzbqbxhynotw9ion96xv.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/Back-to-the-Future-Hoverboard-1.jpg]Board[/url] - Ammo - 6xNokia round - Snacks and drinks - Tools - First Aid Kit - Range Rover - The Shroomblade - Unleash [/hider]