Serenity Arcedeen
17 y/o | Female | Human
Bright-eyed and gallant, Serenity stands at an abnormal 5'10, her stature as solid as any of her male peers, yet possessing still a grace to her movements that could construed as ladylike. Flaxen hair, like threads of sunshafts, flows off her broad shoulders like the mane of a lion, but her hands are callused, fingers blunt and clumsy, knuckles protruding with the tell-tale sign of someone who practiced something beyond the art of blade and shield, bow and spear. Perhaps there was a brutishness within her yet, sparked by the grudge that House Arcedeen had nursed for two centuries. But no matter what, Serenity cuts a handsome figure all the same, whether in backless evening gowns or in thick expedition leathers.
And regardless, she is still growing, flesh forged further by training that she wills herself not to be fatigued by. Perhaps a drop of giants blood has made it into her blue blood. Perhaps Reon has granted her a boon in exchange for what she lost. Or perhaps, after generations of honing their lineage, the Arcedeens have finally perfected their unkind art.
PersonalitySerenity is fiercely independent, a young woman who wishes to handle everything relating to herself by herself. Whether it knightly tasks or menial tasks, whether it be sharpening her weapons or washing her clothes, Serenity keeps her work to herself, even when it comes to tending to her own injuries. Perhaps she seeks every sliver of freedom she can snatch at after being the scion of House Arcedeen for so long, but regardless, self-reliance is
important to her.
That is not to say, however, that she is unsocialable. Though possessing still the trappings of chivalry and gallantry instilled into her by her patriarch, Serenity remains most relaxed when shooting the shit with other warriors, possessing an acerbic wit that emerges naturally against those less-inclined to aspire to any degree of nobility. She eats heartily, dances well in both masculine and feminine roles, and will be more than happy to engage in any challenge of strength or skill...unless it comes to drinking or swimming. Serenity doesn't drink, and she professes a fear of water. Perhaps the two are related, perhaps they aren't. So long as neither of those pop up, however, she's a pleasant enough dame to get along with, the sort who can switch from flowery praises to brutal honesty in a heartbeat.
And, of course, she reserves most of that brutal honesty for the budding Knight Captain, Fannily Danbalion. After all,
she was the one that took the position Serenity was made for, and only owing to a difference founded in the alignment of the heavens.
BackstoryTwo hundred years ago, Sir Elvaris Arcedeen, and the twenty Mayonite stalwarts under his command, gave their lives in the protection of the Mayonite High Priestess, shielding her from the assault of assassins and soldiers alike, even as they were butchered by unnatural spellwork and cowardly poisons.
But such sacrifice, such heroic grit, is not celebrated, or even remembered.
No, for all that glory was grafted unto an orphaned whelp who picked up Sir Arcedeen's sword and got
lucky against a host of foes who were already exhausted from contending against
true knights. Amongst the nobility, Arcedeen's renown fell, their patriarch outshone by a precocious child, only a pittance granted to them by the church for their service. And all the while, that brat, that Elionne Carthet, became Captain of a new order, replacing the vacuum left by Arcedeen's demise, her overexaggerated deeds leading to her being canonized as a
saint in the faith! Preposterous! Outrageous! Such fame belonged not to a miserable brat, but to the House whose sword she used to win her fame! For without it, that child certainly didn't have anywhere near the skill able to kill a man with her bare hands!
The Iron Rose Knights owed their existence to House Arcedeen, solely!
And so, the grudge rooted itself and bloomed its sickly flowers. Decades passed over this filth-ridden obsession, renowned knights and warriors drawn into this house as wives watched the calendar with near-religious zeal, bedding their lovers only when there was a fair chance that the full moon will shine nine months later. But, as if the budding life itself could sense that decades-old desire, could sense it and scorn it, the spawn of House Arcedeen always missed the mark. By a day, or an hour, birthed in sunlight, rejected by moonlight. And the hatred grew. Their training sharpened. Their political movements expanded. Seeking wealth and fame, influence amongst those
with influence. Snatching up all the power they could, so that when it came time for it, when the next Knight-Captain of the Iron Roses was to be decided, it would be one of theirs who finally returns that mantle to the family's steps.
Seventeen years ago, a child was born to Lady Charity Arcedeen, crawling out of her womb slick with water and blood. Her father looked to the skies, and found it to be twilight, that ghostly time where the moon had just risen, brilliantly full. That time where the sun had just set, the skies still basked in orange hues.
This was the child. This was Serenity.
Born just on the cusp of what could be considered a night with a full moon, she bore the expectations and burden of two centuries worth of spite and envy, and was isolated, molded, trained, all so she could become
strong. Not a barbaric strength that granted victory, but a valorous strength that granted a
chivalrous victory. Her family's obsessions substituted her own, and her sword swung ever sharper as she grew and grew! More skillful, more powerful, more knowledgeable. An all-surpassing maiden knight, honed to reach the apex of humanity and match all that ought to be fulfilled!
And when the War of the Red Flag concluded with the demise of the Knight-Captain, that role was open. That role was seeking.
Serenity's training intensified. She partook in bandit exterminations with her brothers, hunted wildebeasts with her yeomen, fought duels both for practice and for honor, regularly making offerings to Mayon alongside her father and mother. Everything was clarifying. Everything was in place. The stain that had marred House Arcedeen for so long will finally be cleansed! There was not a
single other candidate who surpassed her in
any way!
Fanilly Danbalion, some twerp from a House with no martial repute to speak of, was granted the role.
Fanilly Danbalion, born later in the night than Serenity had, was granted plate armor made of Dwarvish metals.
Fanilly Danbalion, so weak-willed as to have fainted during training that Serenity herself underwent six years ago, became the Knight-Captain.
House Arcedeen decided, then, that the Iron Rose Knights truly have fallen out of grace. That following traditions and faith was a meaningless thing to do for a motley assembly of knights made out of commoners and low-born nobles, propped up only by a handful of non-human knights who wielded no power over society itself. It was foolish, after all, to believe that the Goddess cared for children bathed in moonlight.
The times have changed. So too, must the Order, whether from within or from
without.
But Serenity remained.
She was made, from conception, to become a Knight of the Iron Rose.
What else could she do, but this?
EquipmentPristine and ornate.
Expensive but valueless.
That can sum up all of the armor and arms that Serenity possesses. Plate armor decorative and sturdy. All matters of weapons with adornments and flourishes. Her cloak is of a rich indigo, and fanciful ribbons are pinned to her plates, bright colors to make her easily recognizable even at a distance. No great deed would be misattributed to another, after all, and Serenity works hard to maintain the aesthetics of her equipment after every major battle.
It may appear tedious, but after years of doing this, she simply finds it calming. And yet, she has no particular attachment to her equipment either. It's just a habit, in the end.
SkillsIf it's something expected of a knight, Serenity can do it well. Her martial arts are orthodox and clean, taught by masters of the art and tempered by experience in duels and in skirmishes. Though lacking, perhaps, in the
flexibility that indicates a true mastery of weapons, she is nonetheless a capable hand in the usage of all manner of blades, though the majority of the time, she can be
expected to wield a longsword. As did her forebearer. As did the first Knight-Captain.
And yet, her martial passions lie elsewhere, and when her training is done for the day, Serenity relaxes with routines of unarmed combat. Striking. Grappling. Footwork. Throws, followed by a coup de grace with a hidden blade. She does this in private, of course. It's unbecoming of a knight, otherwise, to learn the ways of a pugilist.
Otherwise, however, she has been given a noble's education her entire life, and has been
made smart due to it.
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