Whereas many Prae are lithe and delicate looking, Vi has a noticeably muscular body that has been honed by decades of combat and training, though it’s not quite so bulky as to slow her down. And even though she is only 5’8” tall, her fierce magenta eyes and fiery hair ensures that she is able to command peoples’ attention when she needs to. This is complemented by the fact that no matter where she goes, Vi keeps her head held high and carries herself with an near unbreakable air of confidence. Her hair is kept long and falls down to the small of her back, yet an observant eye will see that it is remarkably well taken care of, contrary to what one would expect from such a no-nonsense woman.
Her crystal shines a brilliant yellow, but is often covered by her long locks of hair. And while many Prae have soft, flowing markings, Vi’s are hard and jagged, traveling up her arms and meeting at the sword emblazoned on her back, which denotes her heritage to the Rhys’alamot house.
The product of a strict upbringing and a life of duty, Vi is the very embodiment of the unwavering resolve that the Rhys’alamot house prides itself on. From as far back as she can remember, both her status as a prodigy and her family’s words of “Greatness, at any cost,” have shaped both her views and wants, making her competitive and prideful at her best, but also shortsighted and arrogant at her worst. Not that she particularly minds how others view her, as she personally believes that her accomplishments speak loud enough to drown out whatever complaints may arise from her inadvertently stepping on shallow egos.
And as a woman used to being in command, the fiery red head has no qualms about seizing the initiative and bearing responsibilities that others may shirk away from. To Vi, the only direction in life she is aware of is forward, with absolutely no room for hesitation or steps backwards. Once she has committed to something, you can be assured that she will see it through to the end, consequences be damned. Consequently, she comes off as a bit of a slave driver to those serving under her and is a complete nightmare for anybody short of the God-Queen to manage.
Interpersonal relationships have always been a bit of a mystery to Vi. Or rather, even though she loves Priscus and has a strong sense of duty to her people, both her Spartan lifestyle and previous position as an Exeo have prevented her from being able to see people as little more than tools. In her mind, each person has his or her own merits and proficiencies, which makes getting to know each one to better understand which tasks they are most suited to a sensible pursuit. But beyond that, there is no room for her to let them in and become friends. After all, the one tool she trusts above all others is herself. And the moment that she has to rely on others would be the day that she has truly lost her edge.
Which made Vi’s fall from grace all the more world shattering for her. For the first time in her life, she was no longer adamantly sure of where she was going or what she had to do. And that’s without even beginning to address the wounds to her pride that resulted from her power being hamstrung. In the end though, she came out of the experience even more hardened and pragmatic than she was before. Where before she treated others with a tone of indifference, now her words carry a bite to them as she no longer reins in her blunt honesty with notions like etiquette and manners.
In the name of achieving her new found goal, Vi will use any tools she feels is necessary, even ones as despicable as the Licentia, and will not hesitate to discard them as soon as they prove to outlive their usefulness.
You would be hard pressed to find anyone in Priscus that has not heard the name Rhys’alamot, as the family is almost synonymous with Prae military might. From the fools that have failed to sneak into Priscus to the Licentia that have met their swords, many have cursed the name. But by the same token, they also serve as an unwavering beacon of strength and honor for the Prae, serving to keep their lands safe from whatever threats may look to exploit them.
Such was the family Vistaeria was born into. But rather than shirk away from the monumental expectations placed on her, the girl welcomed the challenge and quickly proved herself to be a prodigy, picking up her lessons far faster than any of her siblings. While her talent was a source of pride for the girl, it would also prove to isolate her from Prae her own age, not that she noticed this little detail at the time. Back then, the thrill of learning new things and testing her limits was enough for her. Before she knew it, she was already leaving home to defend the Bridges to Piscus from invaders.
Few were surprised when she grew up and was named as the family’s next heir and fewer still when she was later brought before the God-Queen to be made an Exeo. Vi took to the position well, already well accustomed to a leadership role from her time guarding the Bridges. But despite that, she was hardly prepared for what she would face when she was assigned to be an envoy to Medius. Everything from the customs and people were different, but lying in wait was something far more insidious.
The order and discipline that she had become accustomed to back in Priscus were simply gone. The negligence sickened Vi, so she started petitioning the God-Queen for permission to investigate the root of Prae’s poor conduct. But try as she might, the only orders she received from the God-Queen were to stay put. Years passed, but try as she might to ignore it, Vi felt that something was desperately wrong with what was happening in Medius. And one day, she gave up asking for permission and decided to take matters into her own hands.
Her inquiry led her to meeting with her fellow Exeo, but the deeper she dug the more she realized that there were too many inconsistencies in the Exeo’s orders to be mere coincidence or accidental miscommunication. In fact, she started to realize that it was unlikely that any of the Exeos on Medius were getting their orders from the God-Queen at all. Someone, somewhere had to be pulling their strings. And when she followed where those strings led to, Vi found herself heading to Ominar with a to pursue name: Aismael. Stupidly, arrogantly, Vi confronted the Exeo directly inside of her Spire the same day she arrived in the city.
Two years passed, the once respected Prae now a shell of her former self. The memory of being stripped of her status and power as an Exeo by the God-Queen herself has haunted her over the years, as does being labeled a traitor by her own people. Exiled from Priscus, she was sentenced to live out the rest of her days quietly. And with no allies to call her own and her once exceptional ability to use Vis taken from her, many believed this was the only path open to her. Such a pitiful notion had never even crossed Vistaeria’s mind.
And now once more, Vi finds herself in Ominar.
Combat knife: While not Vi’s first choice when it comes to armaments, the 8” blade has proven to be a useful companion to her valae. There is nothing spectacular about the blade, except for the fact that Vi has enchanted it for increased durability and to finer hone its edge.
Valae: Currently due to the exorbitant amount of effort and money required to create them, Vi has only managed to procure 3 valae out of platinum tipped silver. For the time being, the only enchantments Vi has worked into them is to increase their structural integrity and to more thoroughly bind the platinum to the silver. (For more information, check the Armori Sonitae hider)
Dauntless in the face of danger
High mental fortitude
Average level intelligence
Peak physical condition for a Prae
Battle hardened reflexes
Proficient with most bladed weapons
Savant of Armori Sonitae, or the Rhys’alamot fighting style
Imbuement: An ability that is nearly synonymous with the Prae, imbuement allows the user to infuse objects with their vis. The applications of this are numerous, but as the scion to the Rhys’alamot, Vi has specifically been trained in both touch-based telekinesis and enchantment. Of the two, Vi has a stronger affinity towards telekinesis, having been hailed as a prodigy for her ability to weave complex configurations and the sheer amount of objects she was capable of manipulating. And while Vi’s enchantments are nowhere near the same caliber, she has spent a long time developing her skill with them in order to better supplement her arsenal.
Enhancement: More of an offshoot of imbuement than anything else for a Prae, enhancement is the simple art of channeling vis into a specific body part to increase its performance. The magic is rather intuitive in concept, such as allowing one to strike harder by channeling vis into the arms or running faster by channeling it into the legs. There are of course physiological limits to this magic and there is always the risk that excessive use will put tremendous strain on the body which can result in long term consequences.
For Vi, this magic is used almost purely so she can keep up with the objects that she manipulates with her telekinesis in order to overwhelm her opponents. While she is by no means a prodigy at enhancement, her natural athletic physique is greatly supplemented by it, making her move far faster than many would initially anticipate a Prae to be capable of.
Manifested State: When activated, Vi’s manifest takes on the appearance of two wings, which are each made up of four “blades” of golden vis layered on top of one another. Not only does this state vastly improve her telekinetic abilities, but it also allows her to control each of her wing’s blades. While not particularly impressive at first glance, she can use these blades to imbue objects with her vis without direct contact, greatly increasing the arsenal of objects she has at her telekinetic disposal.
It should be noted that since she lost her powers as an Exeo, Vi’s manifest tires her out much more quickly than it used to and limits how much vis she is able to impart to each of her blades. In most cases, Vi can only maintain her manifest comfortably for 10 minutes at a time.
While telekinesis has always been ubiquitous with the Prae, the Rhys’alamot are the ones that pioneered a method of truly fighting with it. On the surface, it looks like its students do little more than learn to coordinate objects into specific patterns, called valans. But in reality, by practicing these formations over and over, the practitioner is able to develop a mental muscle memory of sorts, allowing them to reduce the concentration required to manipulate multiple objects at once and experienced users can even drastically cut down the amount of vis needed to do so.
Over the centuries, hundreds of unique valans have been devised, requiring a lifetime of dedication and training for one to even approach true mastery of the style. For Prae with a decent aptitude, it generally takes 2 to 4 months to truly master a single valan. This is complicated by the fact that each valan generally has a number of variations depending on the quantity of objects being manipulated. And in order to truly optimize one’s use of vis, they would have to manipulate items of the same weight and shape as what they learned the valan with.
Building upon this, the style was built around using innocuous shards of metal pressed into a diamond shape, known as valae. They generally have a dimension of 2’x1’ and are made out of metal that easily retains vis, such as silver. Through imbuement, the valae can be given any number of properties by their wielder to increase its offensive and defensive capabilities.
Rowen resisted the urge to crack a smirk at the old man's response to his rather snarky question, as it was impossible even for him to tell what was going on behind those shades. Feeling his strange companion slowly circling around him caused Rosen to tense a bit, but the SOLDIER remained perfectly still, including leaving his hand on his rapier. The case that held the artifact seemed to grow even heavier in his other hand as the odd man examined him, but Rowen was positive that was simply his imagination.
When the floating geezer finally came to a stop, Rowen allowed himself to relax a bit, but internally he was reeling with questions.
“This is a sacred place, boy. You should turn back and tell no one what you saw if you wish to keep the planet safe.” His words were simple, yet there was something about the dead seriousness in the man’s voice that sent a chill through Rowen.
”See that was my plan, but the helicopter I rode in on isn’t getting back in the air anytime soon.” Rowen paused for a moment, trying and failing to choose his next words carefully. Part of him wanted to believe that old man was just senile, yet his gut knew better. There was simply something about the place that told him that he was way out of his depth here.
”I get the feeling that you know who I work for.” Rowen’s expression was hard, but his voice had lost some of its usual confidence, sounding almost hesitant. "You’re unfortunately gonna have to back up a claim as audacious as 'keeping the planet safe' if you want me to lie to my superiors.”
Name: Rowen Tuesti Role: SOLDIER 3 Location: The Forgotten Capital Tag:@Holy Soldier
The forest eventually gave way to a city, which from the looks of it had no business being on dry land. The stark white trees that had been far more unsettling than Rowen cared to admit gave way to jagged shards of reef tearing through the ground. Logic dictated that such a phenomenon should have been impossible, yet every time his eyes passed over them they were still there. His knuckles had gone white from gripping his rapier far tighter than was necessary, but given the circumstances he felt like he could hardly be blamed for it.
Rowen reached for his communicator once more, but his hard expression didn’t change when all he got was more dead silence. Not static like he would expect from interference, but absolute silence. As if he was completely removed from the world he had known. The thought was remarkably unnerving, but the white haired SOLDIER dismissed it with a small sigh as he continued forward.
As he travelled further, Rowen became increasingly confident that wherever he had ended up, he was all alone due to the complete lack of evidence to the contrary. The jury was still out on whether or not that was reassuring though. Thankfully, the oppressive silence that dominated his surroundings was overtaken by the faint sound of crashing water, which seemed to originate from within a monstrous conch shell ahead of him. But more pressingly, there seemed to be some kind of force that Rowen couldn’t even begin to describe drawing him towards it.
Rowen’s steps as he entered the strange structure were cautious, his eyes scanning every inch of it for any potential signs of danger. The energy that he was approaching had done little to settle his nerves, especially since it seemed to be growing stronger. But for some reason, his gut told him that he would have to find the source of it if he was to have any hope of leaving this strange place.
The inside of the shell was ridiculously elaborate, with a number of houses and even a bell tower dotting its landscape. Yet Rowen couldn’t help but notice that the place was still completely devoid of life.
The sound of crashing water which had previously sounded faint had become an incessant roar in Rowen’s ears now that its source was in plain view. To call it a waterfall almost seemed like an understatement, as the torrential volume of water that it sent cascading down was almost frightening. Thoughts about where such an incredibly amount of water could come from were quickly dropped though, as Rowen realized that the power that had drawn him in this far seemed to be coming from what looked like an altar within the waterfall. Given that there were small platforms leading up to it, the SOLDIER’s destination seemed to be clear.
Hesitantly, Rowen glanced around the room one last time, trying to ensure that he was truly alone. Reassured that he wasn’t about to be jumped by some kind of monster, his rapier slid home into its scabbard with an almost inaudible clink. While he was fully confident in his abilities to make the small jumps across the platforms, it seemed prudent to keep at least one hand free.
In a few quick leaps, Rowen traversed the platforms effortlessly, but he hesitated before jumping onto the main platform itself. His empty hand slowly removed his helmet, wanting to take in the impossibly white light in fully.
”What is this place?” he couldn’t help but murmur to himself. Now that he was this close, he felt that the power had a distinctly holy presence to it, but what that meant was beyond him.
Wanting to learn more, Rowen made the last jump onto the platform that housed the altar. But as he approached, something inexplicable happened. Without him so much as blinking, an old man had suddenly entered his vision. Instinctually, the SOLDIER’s hand went to the hilt of his rapier, yet he did not draw it. While the floating old man was yet another unnerving element to Rowen’s completely unwanted excursion, he did not sense any malice coming from the tranquil looking being.
”I don’t suppose you’re supposed to be the welcoming party, are you?” His voice came out calm and collected thanks to years of practice, but it was obvious that his new companion’s sudden entrance had managed to startle him. And even though he did not sense any outright threat from the old man, his hand had still not left his rapier just yet.
@Holy Soldier As far as I can tell, they've now made their two posts since the last one though. I was behind because my post took me much longer than it should have to get up, but they should be good to go.
Name: Rowen Tuesti Role: SOLDIER 3 Location: The Forgotten Capital Tag:@Holy Soldier
Rowen hardly needed the flashing red lights and blaring alarm to tell him what was about to happen, as the turbulent spin the helicopter had adopted had already been quite vocal in that regard. And since the initial impact had caused the white haired SOLDIER to come dangerously close to spilling out of the helicopter, just barely missing being thrown out into the open air by mere inches, he could also hear the whipping wind howl all sorts of promises that he had no interest in.
The force of the aircraft’s rotation pressed Rowen painfully flat against the hard metal wall. His right hand just barely managed to grasp onto something solid before the bird crashed into a tree, filling the air with all sorts of awful sounds of wood snapping and metal screeching. A second impact quickly followed, forcing Rowen to bash his head violently against the wall. Before the spots in his visions even had a chance to introduce themselves, what was left of the helicopter made landfall. It felt as if an eternity had passed before the wreck stopped spraying up dirt and shards of metal and come to a much welcome halt.
Consciousness kept trying to scamper away from him, but after some time Rowen managed to will his eyes open and keep them that way. When his eyes finally managed to focus, he could only marvel at how well the metal deathtrap had kept itself together, all things considered. With a pained grunt, the SOLDIER managed to pick himself off the ground. The deed was rather unappreciated by his body though, evidenced by the new assortment of bruises he had accrued announcing their presence with each slight movement he made, but he would live.
The imposters that had caused the mess all seemed to be unconscious. Rowen couldn’t help but think of the lives that had been lost because of their actions, his lips curling into a disdainful scowl. An awful impulse to put the cowards down in their sleep briefly crossed his mind, but the idea was simply too repulsive for Rowen to act on it. Besides, Lapin would almost certainly want these men alive for questioning later, so with sluggish movements he got to work ensuring they wouldn’t be going anywhere as he got his bearings, starting with the pilot.
But when he finished with the lab coat, he was struck by a stark realization. The case holding the artifact was gone. Green eyes frantically swept across the wreckage, but it was nowhere to be found.
”You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, the scowl on his face deepening to new levels of displeasure.
A glint of light caught his attention. His head jerked towards its direction, his gaze falling on something outside of the aircraft. Rowen approached the object carefully, eyes scanning the tree line for any unannounced guests. A deep sigh of relief left him though once he got closer, as nestled in a patch of brush and dirt was the artifact.
A weary hand reached for his communicator. ”Lapin, this is Tuesti. I have the package.” It was hardly one of the most proper of transmissions, but Rowen figured that even someone as strict as Lapin would cut him some slack considering what he had just gone through.
Except… His ever dutiful commander hadn’t replied.
”Lapin? Did you hear me?” His voice was tinged with apprehension. It wasn’t like her to let such an important message go unanswered. Another few moments of silence passed. ”Come on Bunny, talk to me.” Rowen’s face twisted with consternation as even the nickname that Lapin despised failed to get a response.
”Wait a…” His voice trailed off as he realized that the scene surrounding him did not look at all like they should. The trees were completely different, not to mention the fact that no forest near Bone Village stretched on quite like this one.
A nervous hand reluctantly retrieved the case next to him. ”Oh, what have you gotten yourself mixed up in now?” The question went unanswered by the eerily silent woods, except for a mysterious aura shining through the trees that almost seemed to be beckoning him. Rowen cast a wary glance backwards to the wreck he had emerged from as the grip on his rapier tightened. The options before him were hardly appealing, but with no way to make contact with anyone else, staying in place hardly seemed to be the right call.
Rowen did not particularly care for the idea of leaving his detainees unguarded, but leading them any significant amount of distance would be far too impractical. His teeth grit, unsatisfied with the reality of the situation, but his best bet was to try and break through whatever was blocking his communications and to double back to the helicopter with reinforcements.
With his mind made up, Rowen began walking towards the strange aura.
Unfocused magenta eyes slowly opened, only to find an unfamiliar ceiling sprawling overhead. The sight did little to quell the waves of disorientation wracking Vi’s muddled mind, as the last thing she remembered was being in Nabriales' shop. She tried to connect the dots that led from that to waking up fully dressed in somebody else’s bed, but she quickly gave up as she brought a feeble hand to rest upon her brow. It felt like she had been asleep for months and there was a feverish feeling clinging annoyingly to her body.
Her eyes went wide as decades of discipline finally kicked in. With grit teeth, Vi painfully forced herself into a sitting position on the needlessly extravagant bed, eyes quickly darting across the room looking for any potential threats. The Prae’s hand had instinctually reached for the pocket knife she had kept hidden in her boot, but the action quickly proved to be unneeded. As long as the extravagant furniture in the room didn’t turn on her, there was nothing threatening about her immediate surroundings.
That didn’t mean the former Exeo was about to let her guard down though, so with more effort than she cared to admit, she sluggishly hauled herself off the ridiculously fluffy bed. Her first few steps were unsteady, but it only took her a few moments of holding onto the nightstand to fully regain her bearings. The events that had unfolded in Nabriales shop were slowly returning to her in flashes, causing the corner of her mouth to twitch in slight annoyance. And as the memories of her new employer’s antics practically coaxed her fingers to curl into a fist, she realized that she was unknowingly crumpling a small piece of paper.
Try to rest, hon. I'll be back when I'm done at the store, and we can talk about things then.
”Tch.” The small, disgusted noise was the paper’s only companion as it fell carelessly to the floor. Vi was hardly thrilled to find out that she had been more or less marooned and left to the whims of Nabriales, but there was hardly anything she could do about it at this point.
However, reading the short letter had made the last piece of Vi’s memory fall back into place. And as she opened the door, she remembered the potent bottle of vis that the alchemist had offered her as payment. Merely thinking about it made the Prae recall the feeling of it burning down her throat, of the immense power it had brought to her fingertips, and the crash that had reduced her to her present sorry condition.
If the mess that had been her morning was any indication, Aismael would still be sitting comfortably outside of her reach for the foreseeable.
The redhead’s brow furrowed at the thought, squeezing the door handle in front of her harder than was absolutely necessary. The rational part of Vi was well aware of the fact that she was closer to her goal than she had ever been in the last two years, but she also couldn’t simply shake off the infuriating feeling that she still had a long way to go. Even with the tremendous surge of power the potion offered, there was little doubt in her mind that she would not have posed much of a challenge for an Exeo, much less one like Aismael. And that wasn’t even mentioning the awful drawback that it came with.
Vi briefly closed her eyes and sighed, willing all of her frustration and impatience to drain out of her with it. She was prepared to do whatever she needed to get her answers. A few years, even a few decades, would be a small price to pay if that was what it took.
The door swung open without even a squeak, a testament to its fine craftsmanship and the likely exorbitant amount of money Nabriales had put into the place. Vi’s boots clacked noisily down the hall as she slowly ventured forward. With little idea of where she was, the Prae had little choice other than to wait for her employer.
That didn’t mean she would be content with sitting around for him though, so for now she set her sights on figuring out the place’s layout.