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⛓ Iona, Ahwaan's Ash ⛓

"The true tragedy of war are not the bleeding gashes it opens, but the scars it leaves behind."
⛓ Height:174 cm.| ⛓ Weight:Unknown.| ⛓ Age:Over 10,000.

⛓ Name:Iona.

⛓ Title:Ahwaan's Ash.

⛓ Three-word description:Angel of Chaos.

⛓ Appearance:The first impression of Iona is that of a woman of stunning beauty with a tall and well defined physique, not unlike a marble statue chiseled by the hands of master of yore. Her body and curves are well proportioned, with a medium shapely bust and worked out muscles that only add to her womanly charm, further enhanced by her swaying, waist-long, blonde hair and eyes that share the color of rich red wine.

The features that call for most attention on Iona, are her huge, black-feathered wings that she can summon or dismiss at-will, as well as her stoic gaze that can cause any men to his heels with nothing but the sheer intensity of her stare.

⛓ Magic/Skills/Abilities:First and foremost, Iona is a fighter, being able to effortlessly wield any weapon ever conceived by mankind, but favoring her own arms, with dexterity that goes far above that of even the most seasoned mortal warrior. Iona's also a spellcaster far more experienced and able than any mortal, even the mightiest spells a mortal can ever hope to master are no problem for her however, Iona's true power lies in the holy element. As an angel it's only natural that Iona can wield a vast arsenal of holy magic. Smiting any who dares stand in her way without any form of mercy or remorse, Iona's the ultimate testament that light isn't necessarily good, much less nice.

Furthermore, Iona's also nearly immortal, being unaging, requiring no sustenance of any form to exist and possessing a healing factor that guarantees that she'll overcome even the most grievous of wounds, her ability to regenerate can be suppressed if she's sealed but the only thing that's said to be able to permanently kill Iona is whoever she recognizes her master, through a contract. As long as her master keeps on living, Iona will always come back and only him can end her life permanently.

⛓ Inventory/Holdings:Iona's most praised possessions are her armor, which can be made to look like any sort of garment (though she favors a lightly armored dress that only ever enhances her feminine charm), yet will always protect Iona in their integrity as well as her swords.

Dies Irae, Iona's dual blades, forged by a divine artisan from an unknown black metal that can only be damaged by weapons of equal quality, like the great hammer Mjolnir. Aside from both of them being blessed with holy powers, allowing the blades to strike true even against being that have no form or shape, like ghosts and spirits, they can also be joined by their hilts, changing shapes to become a black bow inlaid with golden runes. In bow form, Dies Irae can shoot powerful bolts of explosive holy light, instead of normal arrows.

Lastly, Iona is in possession of a pair of matched silver rings. She can give one to a being she wants to form a contract to and will always know where and how well the recipient she chose is. Conversely, the recipient can use ring to summon Iona to their side no matter the distance taking them apart, unless Iona is sealed. Both share a telepathic bond, being allowed to converse and share their emotional states without anyone infringing on their privacy.

⛓ Myth:A long time ago, before mankind and the other children of light rose to prominence, the world was a sea of shapeless chaos onto which the Gods breathed life, ushering shape and beauty to their Creation. All of them, except for Him, the Dark One, Bane of Life, Destroyer, Conqueror, by many names He was but only one only which He recognized as His, Kil'threx, the God of Evil. He sought to usurp Heavens and douse the world of the light in darkness, taking all the Creation to Himself.

The God of Evil's strongest weapon in His crusade for conquest, was also his Opus Magnum, the biggest mockery to the power of the other Gods, His own archangel, Ahwaan. Stealing the secrets of the other gods, Kil'threx, created a being of peerless beauty, wielding His enemies' own weapons against them as a testament that even the light would provide them no solace.

However, time would come when the Conqueror's army would fall, His might crushed and Ahwaan broken and sealed in an old temple, deep within a valley where no mortal dared to thread. Chained with links of pure silver, heart and stomach transfixed by her own blades, abandoned in the darkness from with she came, forever. The Archangel Ahwaan was no more.

Deep in her millenia long sleep, Ahwaan would have a vision, a dream of her master so handsome in His dark glory, seeking once more to free His ultimate tool upon the world of the light. When she woke up from her dream, Ahwaan found herself laying upon a bed she had never seen before, free from her binds, sitting on a chair beside her was him, the one who gave Ahwaan's freedom back, tho one who came seeking the power to conquer all, even the Heavens themselves, her new master, who had been ushered to find Ahwaan by none but her Creator.

"From this day forward, you are Ahwaan no longer. Like the Phoenix, you have been reborn from the ashes of your former self. I name you Iona, the island upon which my eternal kingdom shall be built; you shall be my sword from now and forever more."

The man who named himself Aesir said before the Archangel could even utter a single question. Nodding, Ahwaan no, Iona rose from the bed, taking the covers to preserve her modesty, and gazed upon the lands of her new master. There was a war to be won and Iona would once more be a spear of light, crushing down all those who were foolish enough to challenge her Master.

⛓ Personality:Iona is usually a stoic woman, only ever speaking, in her deep contralto, when it's important, or if prompted by her Master. She's not one to hold secrets and will always be true to her beliefs, no matter. Despite holding no pity for anyone, Iona despises those who abuse of their victims for petty sadistic reasons. In fact, it's not unknown of Iona to put down soldiers of their army that demonstrate psychopathic behavior. If Iona ever needs to eliminate a being that can't defend itself, she'll do so without hesitation, but in an apologetic way as she feels no pleasure from killing those who can't defend themselves.

Perhaps it's a quirk of her angelic, or feminine, nature but Iona really feels sympathy for women and children and will only raise her blade against hem if ordered by her master, or if they try to fight back in any way. In fact, Iona has requested to take the custody of any children orphaned and woman widowed by their wars
and for those she cannot spare, Iona will raise a grave.

Thanks to her mercy for the weak, Iona, is revered as a sort of saint, by those she brought under her wings, though Iona never let them place her above Aesir in their prayers. After all, it's only his mercy that allowed them to live. Iona will never overstep her bounds and try to usurp her Master however, it's not unknown of their followers to see Iona and Aesir as a couple. The truth of this statement is left to each of their imaginations, though.

⛓ Sample post:
“War never changes. You humans only think it changes merely because you witness something that forces your mind to reconsider the variables. To recount, to rethink, to do away with strategies and plans. War may have many faces, with new weapons and ever developing powers…but I assure you my friend. War never changes.”

Those were the words of her Master as he sat upon his throne, victorious once more. Iona stood beside him, with blades readied, in case any of their foes had a trick up his sleeve. The angel didn't face the enemies of her Master with pity, nor did she show contempt, she was indifferent, just staring at their dying forms through it all but remaining silent. It was not Iona's place to speak while her Master did so, after all.

“You’ve done well to reach my doorstep, but alas, like any pawn, you were destined to fall... To think you’d sacrifice yourselves in the efforts of slaying Aesir of the Court among your own bodily shells… a bold move. But ultimately useless against me...”

And such was the truth. While Iona respected their efforts, facing her Master was a sure death sentence to anyone, Iona's blades would not waver or show remorse when taking down those who chose to stand and fight however, they knew honor and respect such as the dead are meant to be treated with.

“Come Iona. We have much to do. The humans have made my blood boil with ecstasy by forcing me to make a new army. My favorite pastime...”

"As you wish, Master." Iona said before setting her feet on the trail of Aesir, only ever stopping when one of the still surviving humans clutched her left ankle. "P-please, have mercy! I have a wif-wife and a child... newbo-" The man tried to say, before feeling the cold bite of Iona's sword piercing his heart from behind. "They'll know you died thinking of them. Now, you may rest..." The light of life left the human's eyes just as Iona pulled her weapon from his body and followed her Master once more.

"May I ask, for a new orphanage as well, Master? Our war is sure to make even more victims and I'd like them to not suffer more than necessary."

⛓ Theme ⛓
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