Estelle Yseult Kaides
Age: 20 [30] |
Height: 6'6" |
Voice: Weak, deep, raspy
First Life
This is just an extremely rough draft--rougher than what I would ever typically do. I'll actually do a proper write up at some point when I see other characters. Some things will be cut or adjusted.
At first, the family was hopeful towards the firstborn Kaides. She had shown her talents early in life. She worked harder than the children who would be her siblings. Other children were not nearly as strong, fast, or tall as her. Rather quickly, she showed her talent with a bow. She took pride in her own skills. Effort made it worth it. That's what she said.
But beyond that were her siblings. She loved being their big sister. She would be the one to lead the way. Of course, with this talent and ability came immaturity. She prided herself on being the talented older sister--perhaps too much. She had quite an ego--but who she was was built on her talents. She was always the talented big sister. But she was a child, the family said. Surely she would grow out of it. She'd learn to be a great knight worthy of the Kaides name.
Unfortunately, her time at the academy didn't teach her to be a great knight. While she excelled at practical skills and tests of knowledge at first, her own ego and talent began to damage her. If she thought something was not worth learning, she put in the bare minimum effort towards it. She was an elegant yet powerful archer--she didn't need much else. And she completely failed in the other purpose of an academy--to form connections.
She didn't care for the other students. Snide remarks were returned with bitter vitriol. Childish disdain between herself and other students festered for years with Estelle refusing to make even the most basic of amends. She didn't care what others thought about her. However, she still cared about her siblings. She loved them. She loved how they looked up to her. But her ego and pride reared its ugly head again. When her siblings were in trouble, she did comfort them and take proper steps. No, she fought. She created conflict--conflict that affected her siblings more and more.
Her time at the academy came to an end during a training exercise at 18. It was simple: just work with other students to slay a monster. After all, what use was a knight if they couldn't bear the stench of blood and view of viscera? But she had received a note. It was, without of a doubt, of little importance--merely words that hated her. But it challenged her. It attacked her vain pride created by her talent and effort. Needled on by her squad's rebuttals as she accused them, she would fight the monster alone. She didn't need her team.
She would have been able to defeat the monster herself. After all, it wasn't meant to risk the student's lives--it was merely meant to get them used to teamwork, stress, and blood. She fought with the monster with blade in hand. After all, that note said she couldn't do so. She'd prove whoever wrote it wrong. And she did--she would fell the monster. But in her hubris, the archer failed to notice that she was watched by another--someone who had fired a poisoned arrow directly into her torso. Wounded, she slaked her life to fell the monster--its claw taking her left eye as recompense.
Estelle lived--barely. While the arrow had missed her vitals, it had been poisoned. Her squad--and the instructor on duty--managed to make it to her in time. But it would be the end for her time at the academy. She spent the next year and a half fighting for her life. Months she would spend in nearly a coma. When she finally woke, she could barely even see. Despite that, she saw herself more clearly than she had before: she was no longer the big strong sister that she took pride in being. She was little more than a brat who lost everything she valued in herself.
Soon after recovering enough to walk unassisted, she ran away from the house at the age of 20 with little more than her clothes, some coin, and her unstrung bow. She couldn't take the shame. She couldn't face the brothers and sisters that she still loved. She didn't want them to ever see her like this.
In spite of her health, she wandered from town to town doing odd jobs to keep herself alive. For some time, she worked at an orphanage. Children who had lost their parents to bandits and disease didn't care much about a sickly giant taking care of them. The children took interest in her unstrung bow--the one that she had used as a walking stick for her journey. She showed them how it worked and dared them to try to string it--something she could no longer do. The children loved it. Perhaps, they thought, they could be hunters.
Spurred by the children, Estelle taught them what she knew. Some of the kids were talented. Some weren't. While there were some misgivings, she soon learned how nice it was to simply impart what she knew, regardless of everything. Perhaps she should have done so with her siblings--no. It was too late. The children showed quite a talent, even with makeshift bows.
But then the war broke out. The orphans--now nearing adulthood--were conscripted. She had heard that they displayed significant talent and bravery, but...
Without an orphanage, Estelle wandered more. Away from the war. Away from the frontlines. She would find refuge in a small village. At this time, she had seemed to become the caretaker to an elderly man who still retained his muscle. A man so scarred that babies would cry at the sight of him, yet so gentle that they would coo once he held them. He taught Estelle--though his lessons were wasted on someone who was merely his caretaker--with tales of violence. How to brutalize. He was not a noble knight--no, his stories didn't paint him as a good man. But Estelle still listened to him.
Then war came to the village. Refusing to leave, Estelle could do little more but watch as the old man burnt what little life he had to let his village, the family he chose, escape. Estelle was with him, but could only etch into her mind how the he fought.
Estelle continued to run away during the war. Each time, she survived. And eventually, she found herself back home. Even so, she still ran away from her home. She hid her identity. Of course, her siblings could easily tell who she was. There were no other woman in the world who carried a bow and stood as tall as her. She did her best to care for her siblings in her remaining time. On rare occasion, she would nock her bow once more--though, she did little more than desperate movements inspired by how that old man burnt away his life.
Even though she never stopped running, she saw the end alongside her brothers, sisters, and cousins.
- Biggest Failure: Her failing her siblings in her ego.
- Biggest Regret: Running away after she recovered.
- Biggest Obstacle: Herself--who she was.
- Greatest Achievement: How she was looked up to by her siblings--how she could be relied upon by them.
- Driving Hope: Her brothers and sisters who kept fighting.
Equipment
- Estelle's weapon of choice are heavy longbows and equally heavy arrows. Before her passing, she wielded the same longbow that she grew up with. She never touched the bow that had been made for when she would begin to use aura.
- She never carried much else.
Abilities
- Physical Strength: 3rd Rate
- Aura: 3rd Rate
- Magic: 0th Circle
- Skills
- Hammering - A drawing of the bow that pushes one's body to its limit, allowing one to both pull heavier string and draw faster.
- Desperation - Allows one to push themselves even further.
- Trued (Deprived) - Allows the user to intuit and strike weak spots. The range is quite limited--for obvious reasons.
- Swift (Deprived) - Calculated and precise movements allowing the user to adeptly move while in combat. Slow is steady and steady is quick.
Member
teenangstlife
Obscene Symphony
Inertia
Supermaxx
Lyla
Lugubrious
mickilennial
Bartimaeus
Vec
Lemons
