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Zoey BoeyAppearance:
Name: Fenne de Wees
Age: 27
Class: Fighter
Level: 1
Personal Skill:
Knight Scourge – when attacking, Fenne has a chance -affected by enemy gear, speed and weight- to topple her opponent using her scourge, preventing counterattack while the foe is down
Skills:
Gamble - at the cost of some accuracy, Fenne's attacks are more likely to deal critical strikes
Equipment:
Iron hammer – a sturdy, heavy hammer, not oversized, that excels at crushing bone, armor, or even other weapons. 20/20 uses
Scourge – a leather lash with a clawed end, commonly kept wrapped around Fenne's left wrist. Its points tend to snag on opponents' apparel, more so on armor, and it can be used to bind, trip, and topple enemies, particularly heavy ones 15/15 uses
Story: The mountainous nation of Brudel is a vast one, with dizzying highs and astonishing lows, full of secret and remote places isolated from the rest of the world by the inhospitable, obstructive terrain. Far from the spires of the capital, overlooking the bay between Brudel and distant Nuniel, rests a town stewed in superstition—Gespenst. As the tale goes, its namesake -a legendary warrior whose nightmarish skills and crimson eyes marked him to others as a demon- established it centuries ago after growing tired of fighting and bringing his war caravan to a halt. The resulting settlement flourished over the years thanks to the mountain's untapped resources, though rumors persisted of unholy rites to ensure that the land's bounty never ceased. In present times the town persists in good shape despite certain degradations commonly associated with backwater towns, honoring its founder as a saint and maintaining prophecies about his legacy and eventual return.
Though not all such utterings proved true, one did seem to make itself apparent following the birth of a girl, Fenne. From the moment she opened her eyes, wild talk flew about their brilliant, scarlet hue. Fenne grew up made to believe that she bore the blood of the noble demon lord Gespenst, if she was not in fact the great warrior reincarnated. She certainly acted the part; full of pride and excused from the consequences of her actions, she tormented the other children and caused no end of trouble. When the town's head warrior taught her how to fight, she displayed a remarkable aptitude for violence, finding that she preferred brutal, heavy weapons. Her wanton aggression faded as she grew, but her capacity for cruelty only swelled, and she fought with demonic strength whenever bandits, wild animals, or invaders threatened the territory. Fighting scum, however, eventually came to bring her little satisfaction, and she sought escape.
Looking to the myth of her heritage, she decided that it was the duty of a noble demon to tear down the falsely righteous, serving as an arbiter to determine the world's true heroes and warriors. To that end she left her town and crossed the great bay to Nuniel, where she sought out such people, particularly knights, the supposed defenders of the weak and protectors of the innocent whose principles and ability bore closer inspection. She became a mercenary, employing an arsenal tailor-made to take down opponents in heavy armor, and she delighted in dethroning the proud and the powerful warriors she faced, in showing them their own weakness and hypocrisy. However, the real world also brought along a number of rude awakenings for Fenne, showing her through pain and punishment that the same behavior that flew in Gespenst would not serve her well elsewhere. She also began to learn her own shortcoming; that sometimes the wicked and unjust prevailed no matter what. Troubling thoughts plagued her, telling her that her whole sense of self might be built on a lie, that she might be nothing more than a bloodthirsty, insane human, and that she was doomed to live a life short, agonized, and alone. Her mission to tear down the false and the weak, however, remained, and as such Fenne ended up in the Red Branch Company, poised to bring her hammer down on Lapis' unworthy.
Sample Post: Everything about the man irritated her. His unkempt hair and beard, his easy smile, the cobbled-together armor wholly unfitting of a knight, the scandalous way he talked to the village girl...after a time walking behind them, Fenne could bear it no longer. She lengthened her stride to catch up with the wagon, its driver, and its pedestrian escort. At her approach, the two gave her a momentary glance, but the next moment the man pretended not to notice. To her disgust Fenne realized that he seemed to be in the middle of some kind of story, no doubt trying to steal the heart of the girl he was paid to protect, taking advantage of his position. Venom filled her voice as Fenne came up alongside the man and snarled, “Hedge knight!”
The words demanded the man's attention, and he turned to look at her as he continued walking. Though the village girl seemed frightened by Fenne's tone, the amused, offhanded manner of the knight appeared to put her at ease. Brown eyes sparkling, the swordsman replied, “Yes?”
Fenne bristled. Her insult should have roused this fool to action to defend his supposed honor, but this cur just rolled with the punches. Proof, she decided, of his falsehood. “Dirty, broken armor, and the emblem of some noble house,” Fenne observed. “You've got balls to parade about that trash, likely stolen from some battlefield, and act like some gentleman or hero.”
The man smiled, showing white teeth. “Why, thank you. Not every day someone walks up and starts offering compliments.” On his other side, the village girl snickered, prompting Fenne to clench her teeth as her anger mounted.
“You're scum!” She thundered, pointing an accusatory finger at him. Her red eyes flashed in the morning sun, but if her target noticed, he gave no indication. “Preying on the weak and gullible! And there's nobody I hate more than pretenders!” Fenne twisted, putting all her strength into a sideways swing of her hammer, newly pulled from her belt. Its metal head rocketed toward the false knight's chest, but like grass in the wind he bent out of the way. Fenne's overswing carried her off-balance, causing her to stagger backward.
She righted herself a moment later, whirling to face her foe. The wagon and the knight had stopped, with the man in question standing with his hands on his hips. His right hand lay close to the hilt of his sword, but he did not reach for it. His mocking manner infuriated fen, and with a guttural cry she launched herself forward. Once again the man moved out of the way, stepping to the side to slip past Fenne's overhead slam, and this time his hand shot out in a cross punch to Fenne's ear.
“Guh!” After another stagger sideways, Fenne whipped around, loosing the lash curled around her wrist. Its clawed end snaked through the air, ready to latch onto the hedge knight's gambeson, but he reached up a hand and caught it like one might snatch a buzzing fly from the air. He gave it a yank, pulling Fenne toward him, and before the woman could react the man delivered a left hook to her temple.
This time, Fenne crumpled without a sound. Her hammer plonked into the earth of the dirty road, and her body fell right beside it. As she lay on the ground, head spinning, she became aware of the man standing over her. “Look,” he was saying, slowly so that in even in her state she could understand. “You're obviously new to Nuniel, and I don't know where you might be from, but you should lighten up. Things are more complicated than they might appear, especially people. If it's your mission to take out liars and pretenders, you should know that not all the just are strong, and not all the unjust are weak. I like your passion, but sooner or later it'll be the death of you. And not everyone's going to forgive an attempt on his life for a pretty face.” He winked, then turned to walk away. Fenne heard the wheels of the cart begin to groan again, and the man's voice grew distant. “Take it easy, Red Eyes!” he called. “I hope I'll see you again!”
The next moment Fenne drifted off into unconsciousness, though her scowl remained a few moments longer before her muscles went slack.
Name: Fenne de Wees
Age: 27
Class: Fighter
Level: 1
Personal Skill:
Knight Scourge – when attacking, Fenne has a chance -affected by enemy gear, speed and weight- to topple her opponent using her scourge, preventing counterattack while the foe is down
Skills:
Gamble - at the cost of some accuracy, Fenne's attacks are more likely to deal critical strikes
Equipment:
Iron hammer – a sturdy, heavy hammer, not oversized, that excels at crushing bone, armor, or even other weapons. 20/20 uses
Scourge – a leather lash with a clawed end, commonly kept wrapped around Fenne's left wrist. Its points tend to snag on opponents' apparel, more so on armor, and it can be used to bind, trip, and topple enemies, particularly heavy ones 15/15 uses
Story: The mountainous nation of Brudel is a vast one, with dizzying highs and astonishing lows, full of secret and remote places isolated from the rest of the world by the inhospitable, obstructive terrain. Far from the spires of the capital, overlooking the bay between Brudel and distant Nuniel, rests a town stewed in superstition—Gespenst. As the tale goes, its namesake -a legendary warrior whose nightmarish skills and crimson eyes marked him to others as a demon- established it centuries ago after growing tired of fighting and bringing his war caravan to a halt. The resulting settlement flourished over the years thanks to the mountain's untapped resources, though rumors persisted of unholy rites to ensure that the land's bounty never ceased. In present times the town persists in good shape despite certain degradations commonly associated with backwater towns, honoring its founder as a saint and maintaining prophecies about his legacy and eventual return.
Though not all such utterings proved true, one did seem to make itself apparent following the birth of a girl, Fenne. From the moment she opened her eyes, wild talk flew about their brilliant, scarlet hue. Fenne grew up made to believe that she bore the blood of the noble demon lord Gespenst, if she was not in fact the great warrior reincarnated. She certainly acted the part; full of pride and excused from the consequences of her actions, she tormented the other children and caused no end of trouble. When the town's head warrior taught her how to fight, she displayed a remarkable aptitude for violence, finding that she preferred brutal, heavy weapons. Her wanton aggression faded as she grew, but her capacity for cruelty only swelled, and she fought with demonic strength whenever bandits, wild animals, or invaders threatened the territory. Fighting scum, however, eventually came to bring her little satisfaction, and she sought escape.
Looking to the myth of her heritage, she decided that it was the duty of a noble demon to tear down the falsely righteous, serving as an arbiter to determine the world's true heroes and warriors. To that end she left her town and crossed the great bay to Nuniel, where she sought out such people, particularly knights, the supposed defenders of the weak and protectors of the innocent whose principles and ability bore closer inspection. She became a mercenary, employing an arsenal tailor-made to take down opponents in heavy armor, and she delighted in dethroning the proud and the powerful warriors she faced, in showing them their own weakness and hypocrisy. However, the real world also brought along a number of rude awakenings for Fenne, showing her through pain and punishment that the same behavior that flew in Gespenst would not serve her well elsewhere. She also began to learn her own shortcoming; that sometimes the wicked and unjust prevailed no matter what. Troubling thoughts plagued her, telling her that her whole sense of self might be built on a lie, that she might be nothing more than a bloodthirsty, insane human, and that she was doomed to live a life short, agonized, and alone. Her mission to tear down the false and the weak, however, remained, and as such Fenne ended up in the Red Branch Company, poised to bring her hammer down on Lapis' unworthy.
Sample Post: Everything about the man irritated her. His unkempt hair and beard, his easy smile, the cobbled-together armor wholly unfitting of a knight, the scandalous way he talked to the village girl...after a time walking behind them, Fenne could bear it no longer. She lengthened her stride to catch up with the wagon, its driver, and its pedestrian escort. At her approach, the two gave her a momentary glance, but the next moment the man pretended not to notice. To her disgust Fenne realized that he seemed to be in the middle of some kind of story, no doubt trying to steal the heart of the girl he was paid to protect, taking advantage of his position. Venom filled her voice as Fenne came up alongside the man and snarled, “Hedge knight!”
The words demanded the man's attention, and he turned to look at her as he continued walking. Though the village girl seemed frightened by Fenne's tone, the amused, offhanded manner of the knight appeared to put her at ease. Brown eyes sparkling, the swordsman replied, “Yes?”
Fenne bristled. Her insult should have roused this fool to action to defend his supposed honor, but this cur just rolled with the punches. Proof, she decided, of his falsehood. “Dirty, broken armor, and the emblem of some noble house,” Fenne observed. “You've got balls to parade about that trash, likely stolen from some battlefield, and act like some gentleman or hero.”
The man smiled, showing white teeth. “Why, thank you. Not every day someone walks up and starts offering compliments.” On his other side, the village girl snickered, prompting Fenne to clench her teeth as her anger mounted.
“You're scum!” She thundered, pointing an accusatory finger at him. Her red eyes flashed in the morning sun, but if her target noticed, he gave no indication. “Preying on the weak and gullible! And there's nobody I hate more than pretenders!” Fenne twisted, putting all her strength into a sideways swing of her hammer, newly pulled from her belt. Its metal head rocketed toward the false knight's chest, but like grass in the wind he bent out of the way. Fenne's overswing carried her off-balance, causing her to stagger backward.
She righted herself a moment later, whirling to face her foe. The wagon and the knight had stopped, with the man in question standing with his hands on his hips. His right hand lay close to the hilt of his sword, but he did not reach for it. His mocking manner infuriated fen, and with a guttural cry she launched herself forward. Once again the man moved out of the way, stepping to the side to slip past Fenne's overhead slam, and this time his hand shot out in a cross punch to Fenne's ear.
“Guh!” After another stagger sideways, Fenne whipped around, loosing the lash curled around her wrist. Its clawed end snaked through the air, ready to latch onto the hedge knight's gambeson, but he reached up a hand and caught it like one might snatch a buzzing fly from the air. He gave it a yank, pulling Fenne toward him, and before the woman could react the man delivered a left hook to her temple.
This time, Fenne crumpled without a sound. Her hammer plonked into the earth of the dirty road, and her body fell right beside it. As she lay on the ground, head spinning, she became aware of the man standing over her. “Look,” he was saying, slowly so that in even in her state she could understand. “You're obviously new to Nuniel, and I don't know where you might be from, but you should lighten up. Things are more complicated than they might appear, especially people. If it's your mission to take out liars and pretenders, you should know that not all the just are strong, and not all the unjust are weak. I like your passion, but sooner or later it'll be the death of you. And not everyone's going to forgive an attempt on his life for a pretty face.” He winked, then turned to walk away. Fenne heard the wheels of the cart begin to groan again, and the man's voice grew distant. “Take it easy, Red Eyes!” he called. “I hope I'll see you again!”
The next moment Fenne drifted off into unconsciousness, though her scowl remained a few moments longer before her muscles went slack.
