[hider=Ier-Briar the Knight]
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[h1][color=7bcdc8]ℑ𝔢𝔯-𝔅𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔯 𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔫-𝔬𝔣-𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔙𝔬𝔩𝔨𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫[/color][/h1]
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[img]https://i.imgur.com/UQUgzHj.png?2[/img][/center]

[quote][b]What is your name?[/b][/quote]
[indent][color=7bcdc8]Ier-Briar Thorn-of-Mountain Volkovin[/color][/indent]
[quote][b]How old are you?[/b][/quote]
[indent][color=7bcdc8]17 winters have passed since my birth.[/color][/indent]
[quote][b]What is your gender?[/b][/quote]
[indent][color=7bcdc8]You’re seriously going to ask? Female.[/color][/indent]
[quote][b]What do you wish to be?[/b][/quote]
[indent][color=7bcdc8]Like my father and his forebearers, I will strive to become a Shieldbearer capable of providing shelter from hellfire and shadowsteel.[/color][/indent]
[quote][b]What are your skills?[/b][/quote]
[indent][color=7bcdc8]As a nobleman’s daughter, I am well-versed in art, languages, embroidery, music, dining etiquette, and philosophy. As my father’s daughter, I can ride as well as any man, know how to care for my own armor and weapons, and can recite our family’s pre-battle prayers from heart, no matter what situation. I will leave it up to you to consider which set of skills is more polished, considering my current vocation.[/color][/indent]
[quote][b]What is in your inventory?[/b][/quote]
[indent][color=7bcdc8]A lion doll. …are you laughing? You’re laughing, aren’t you. No, it’s not cute. No, I don’t care about other dolls. Why would you think that? Gods above, it’s a [i]memento[/i] you insufferable dweeb. Now come over here so I can break your shit-eating face.[/color][/indent]
[quote][b]What are you like? What do people think of you?[/b][/quote]
[indent][color=7bcdc8]Look me in the eye. Can you tell what sort of person I am? Good.

…

I have to explain anyways? For the readers? Gods, you’re insufferable.

My mother thinks I’m an uncouth, rude tomcat, a terrible example for my younger sisters. My father thought I was the son he never had, full of the fire and steel he himself had during his springtime. My sisters, unlike what my mother would like to think, adore me. And for good reason. Though some rubbish-headed academics may consider me a hot-headed brute stuck in the body of a soft woman, I am anything but that. Challenge me to a drinking contest and I’ll send you home with a face redder than the sun. Challenge me to an arm wrestling contest and I’ll send your hand straight through the table. Challenge me in anything and I’ll prove to you that I’m better.

Think I can’t? I’ll do it until I can.

My father, before he passed away, granted me the name ‘Thorn-of-Mountain’. And if I can be a thorn to even an entity as mighty as the mountains that forged my people, then you better hope you don’t find my thorns sticking into your sides. Insult me and I will break your teeth. Insult those I cherished and you better pray to the gods that’s all I’ll do.
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[quote][b]What are your life experiences? How did you grow up?[/b][/quote]
[indent][color=7bcdc8]My name is Ier-Briar Thorn-of-Mountain Volkovin, eldest daughter of Dry-Ael Blood-of-Wolf Volkovin, the Blue Fang of Alcidea, the Holder of Farrow’s Deep, who passed away bravely two winters ago against the sullen horde of Valkraza the Hollow-Hearted. I was also engaged to some guy that was apparently of good blood, but I sure hope they gave up on it after I dumped a casket of wine on him.

As for my past, you can say that I was raised like any son in a warrior-lord’s household would.

I’m a woman? Yes, I am. That’s the point. My father was for it, my mother was against it, but considering how she kept on shunting out more daughters from her womb (thank gods for that), there was really nothing she could do. The glorious Volkovin name would be besmirched if there was a generation incapable of passing on the family arts to the next, after all. Alongside other, more ‘sophisticated’ arts befitting of a lady of my own standing, I’ve also learned the warriors’ craft since I was a child, honing my skill with halberd and horse, sword and shield until I can say with confidence that I was one of the finest warriors in my age bracket.

Of course, the man my father swore a blood oath to didn’t care for womenfolk amongst the ranks of his guard, and when my father died, all my mother could think about was selling us off to the highest bidder.

Perhaps I am being a bit harsh on her. Perhaps she simply wanted what was best, even if that vision doesn’t align with my own interest.

But gods damn that conniving sow regardless.

Anyways, I took my horse, my armor, my steel and what have you, and now I’m here.

What do I planned if you turn me away?

…

Hahaha, why would you turn me away?
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