Kyra, the Firebrand
”What can you hope to be, compared to me?” Kyra
Titles/Nicknames: The Firebrand
Age: 23
Race: Hellblooded
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: ???
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Blue
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 170 lbs
Appearance: Kyra has certainly been gifted with an overt inheritance when it comes to her infernal ancestry. Thick reddish horns protrude from her temples, as long as the face they sit perched above. Her eyes are rounded orbs, shining an uncanny blue that reflects when exposed to light. The skin of her torso and thighs are a sickly green, pale to almost resemble ordinary skin tones in poor light. Her limbs and head carry a stark contrast, however, as they are all a deep red, almost scorched to a burned copper. Finally, a pointed, prehensile tail extends behind her, nearly as long as the hellblood herself.
From her decidedly more natural parentage, Kyra has earned the flowing oaken locks of her mother, a rich head of hair that cascades down over her back and around her horns, only barely contained with several strips of cloth. Kyra is built like a natural athlete, with a slim silhouette that still is nothing but muscle.
She isn't afraid of showing off her imposing form, and when allowed to dress herself often opts for minimalism, wearing only what is required to be 'decent'. A common feature is for her to be painted in gold and yellows, either by herself or others. These arcane markings decorate many parts of her body, but serve no real purpose other than aesthetics for the masses.
Personality: Kyra has entirely bought into the stories about her, and her kind. Content to play the villain to a world that expects nothing else, she most of all desires validation through awe. Whether it be cheering, fearful silence, or cowed hatred, Kyra knows she is a force to be reckoned with, and enjoys showing others the same. Victory is important to her, whether it's a brutish beatdown or a match of wits, she is keen to prove her mettle.
She is vain, easily enticed by worship from those foolish few who'd stoop so low. Power speaks to her, and any scrap of it will be greedily accepted when given. She is envious, particularly of those who master things she never will, such as magic. With enough provocation, she will go to any length to 'outdo' someone else. Still, she remains a rebellious spirit, content to entertain as long as she feels validated. Every conversation is a scheme, another budding ambition. She might posture about honour, but is ultimately not concerned with following through. Most of all, Kyra will never be forgotten, or belittled. She will make sure of that.
Strength: 10
Dexterity: 9
Intelligence: 6
Cunning: 6
Magic: 1
Willpower: 4
Endurance: 5
Charisma: 6
Weapons of Choice: A crooked axe, and a relatively short chain with a hook. Kyra is a weapon.
Armor/Combat Apparel: Given the choice in a 'regular' match, Kyra will not wear much at all in the way of protection. In more dangerous matches, she will wear basic plates on her torso and legs, but not much else.
Fighting Style: Kyra is a bruiser of intense strength and high-octane speed. She thoroughly enjoys whipping into the backline and sowing chaos, but is most in her element when she is able to face down a single fighter in a one-on-one bout, where she will dance around, taunt and use her immense strength to make a show of it. A favourite of hers is whipping weapons out of her opponents hands or tripping them up with her tail. She has no way to fight at longer ranges beyond running to close the distance, and has no magical abilities whatsoever. She is also relatively fragile for her impressive build, and relies heavily on hitting first, and hardest. She will use her chain oppressively to bog down her opponents, and swing in for a kill with her weapon.
Magical Affinity: None.
Place of Birth: On a wagon, on the road.
Social Status: Slave
Alignment: Fire
History: Kyra has only ever known a life of servitude. Of chafing under chains, being ogled and gawked at between cage bars. As early as she can recall, she belonged to entertainers. Never the same troupe for long. Sold, stolen, escaped. It didn't matter how she moved, or where she went. It always ended up the same; in a cage, or made to dance. Grubby humans with fear in their eyes and desire on their mind. Though never truly allowed to be a gladiator, she was made to kill when still a teen, dropped into dark pitfight deals where her appearance was a boon.
Unlike the expectations of her masters, Kyra never stopped fighting, even when in back in her many cages. Whipped, starved, spat on. There was always another remark, another threat. She listened to the stories they told, to the bold claims of archaic power nested deep within her. As she grew, her determination and unkempt disregard for authority grew stronger. Bolder.
Word had come all the way down to Kyra about a grand tournament. Though she was not to compete - too dangerous, too expensive - she was carted to Risha for exhibitions and deals all the same. It is there she first caught her first glimpse of real warriors. The thought of fighting as they practiced was enough to make her heady.
So it was that the Hellblood escaped her bonds once more. With the tournament drawing closer, Kyra once again made her move. It wouldn't be long until someone - the guards, a cartel - found and locked her away again. But perhaps this time would be different. This time she would find a way to be free.
Other: I hope this is alright.
Frettzo
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