VitaVitaAR

From Barren Shores: A Fantasy Survival RP

• Name: Irial Romyre
• Age: 30. High Elf growth rates mean that her youthful, short appearance is likely as old as she will ever look. In addition, she's considered quite young by High Elven standards.
• Race: High Elf
• Appearance: Face and some of her upper body. Irial is very short and rather youthful-looking, and has a slender build, though her physique could be described as kind of pear-shaped. She has little to no muscle on her body at all, and could easily be described as delicate.
• Personality: Irial is a proud and confident mage. She has studied since her childhood, when she was very young, and has continued to do so for her entire life. She is overjoyed at the opportunity she has been granted, as she is quite young by the standards of her kind. But thanks to her parents being unable to travel, she was begrudgingly allowed to travel. However, Irial dislikes company. She does not have any prejudices against other races, rather she treats anyone she sees as foolish with the same level of irritation and contempt. Unfortunately, Irial sees many people as foolish. She is rather sarcastic and possesses a short temper. At the same time, her attitude is in part a result of her belief that stupidity gets people hurt, and she should stop anyone she sees as being foolish from acting as such as quickly as possible. That, and it's very annoying to her. Irial is easily flustered or exasperated, and can quickly go from sarcastic comments to angry shouting if irritated enough. She is very proud of her knowledge of magic and arcane creatures, and of her capabilities as a mage for her young(for a high elf) age.
• Abilities: Irial is a high elf, meaning she naturally has extensive magical capabilities. As a high elf, death from aging is not an issue, though disease, violence, starvation, or any other such causes of death are still dangerous to her. Irial herself has a wide library of spells, largely centered on Destruction, Defense, and Utility. Destruction spells include Fireball, Lightning Strike, and various other such spells. Defense features magical barriers. Utility is simply spells such as a small light for dark areas, or a spell designed to temporarily repair broken objects. Her innate magical skill is very high, allowing her to cast a variety of low-level spells without need for a catalyst. Due to her extensive capabilities she can cast very quickly, chaining two or three spells together to amplify or combine their effects. Irial is also highly studied in matters of supernatural creatures, but her knowledge of the mundane is remarkably lacking. Indeed, Irial is rather useless when it comes to mundane tasks, and is physically very weak. As with all elvenkind, however, she is much lighter then she looks and can move quickly in short bursts(more athletic elves can obviously do so for longer).
• Salvaged Item: Irial's Reinestange, a polished wooden mage's staff with a pure mana crystal mounted on the tip. She's very upset none of her books survived.
• History: Irial was born as the only child of the Romyre family. Due to very low elven birth rates, this is not exactly uncommon. From young childhood her parents desired for her to become an excellent mage, just as they had. After all, as the Archmage of Aman Duun, the High Elven mage's academy, her father certainly desired to have a child just as accomplished as himself. Her mother, too, as a court mage, desired a similar result. And so, even at such a "young" age of thirty, Irial become highly accomplished and knowledgeable about magic. Naturally not to the status of a truly powerful mage, but for a young elven girl it was impressive. It was not long after her thirtieth birthday that her parents were approached about the expedition to the uncharted continent. However, their duties were too important to allow themselves to leave. And their daughter, they initially asserted, too young. However, after much consideration and testing of Irial's skills, they eventually allowed their daughter to go in their stead.
• Nation of Origin: Aunen Gaeth, the last land of the High Elves.
• Nation Lore: Long, long ago, the High Elves ruled many lands, having split from the wood and dark elves even further in the past.. While they were excellent to their own kind, an arrogance plagued them, made them believe themselves better then other beings. This state persisted for many years, and the arrogance of High Elves drove them further and further, to greater and greater lengths to show their superiority. Naturally, such things can only end in disaster. A magical experiment to pierce the veil of reality into another world caused a catastrophe that swallowed the High Elven capital of Gehaer Leth, and wreaked havoc upon their lands, killing many high elves. The remaining elves retreated to their ancestral home, the last land relatively unharmed, Aunen Gaeth. Many of their former lands were swiftly claimed by other races. The disaster humbled the high elves, and they began to reconsider themselves. After all, they had made such a horrible mistake, perhaps their feelings of superiority were utterly undeserved? They, as a result, did not seek to reclaim their old lands. Even if they had tried, they were far too few in number to do such a thing. Indeed, it almost appeared as if the High Elven race would have died out... if not for their newly-bustling trade with humans. Some scholars believe that interbreeding with humans is the only reason there are High Elves at all today. Most modern high elves possess a small percentage of human blood, even if they do not show any human traits and possess the endless lifespan of their race. Today, the High Elves still hold pride in their work, but never will they forget the disaster their past arrogance brought upon them.
  
  Aunen Gaeth lies to the southwest. It is a fertile land, with short winters, and holds the current High Elven Capital of Miur Taenn. The high elven population is low, but stable, as age cannot fell an elf, but birth rates are quite low. While in the past, other races were not allowed free passage into High Elven lands, today's High Elves welcome their modern allies, though few live within the borders of Aunen Gaeth.
  
  The High Elves are ruled by the High Elven King and Queen, Tenneth Myryn and Eslieth Myryn. A large mage's college is held within the borders of the capital, and is a respected place of education.
• Other: Irial is largely useless at any physical exertion. However, she can bake, due to a personal love of pastries.

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

Fanilly does need support given her confidence issues.

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

@Zelosse: Okay, can't help but notice you still have some references to holy stuff and being half-elf. Those need to go. ^^;

@AtomicNut: Fanilly has already become a waifu? D:

From Barren Shores: A Fantasy Survival RP (Interest Check)

Made the edits.

From Barren Shores: A Fantasy Survival RP (Interest Check)

@PKMNB0Y: She's probably nearly as good as you can be with innate magic.

From Barren Shores: A Fantasy Survival RP (Interest Check)

• Name: Irial Romyre
• Age: 30. High Elf growth rates mean that her youthful, short appearance is likely as old as she will ever look. In addition, she's considered quite young by High Elven standards.
• Race: High Elf
• Appearance: Face and some of her upper body. Irial is very short and rather youthful-looking, and has a slender build, though her physique could be described as kind of pear-shaped. She has little to no muscle on her body at all, and could easily be described as delicate.
• Personality: Irial is a proud and confident mage. She has studied since her childhood, when she was very young, and has continued to do so for her entire life. She is overjoyed at the opportunity she has been granted, as she is quite young by the standards of her kind. But thanks to her parents being unable to travel, she was begrudgingly allowed to travel. However, Irial dislikes company. She does not have any prejudices against other races, rather she treats anyone she sees as foolish with the same level of irritation and contempt. Unfortunately, Irial sees many people as foolish. She is rather sarcastic and possesses a short temper. At the same time, her attitude is in part a result of her belief that stupidity gets people hurt, and she should stop anyone she sees as being foolish from acting as such as quickly as possible. That, and it's very annoying to her. Irial is easily flustered or exasperated, and can quickly go from sarcastic comments to angry shouting if irritated enough. She is very proud of her knowledge of magic and arcane creatures, and of her capabilities as a mage for her young(for a high elf) age.
• Abilities: Irial is a high elf, meaning she naturally has extensive magical capabilities. As a high elf, death from aging is not an issue, though disease, violence, starvation, or any other such causes of death are still dangerous to her. Irial herself has a wide library of spells, largely centered on Destruction, Defense, and Utility. Destruction spells include Fireball, Lightning Strike, and various other such spells. Defense features magical barriers. Utility is simply spells such as a small light for dark areas, or a spell designed to temporarily repair broken objects. Her innate magical skill is very high, allowing her to cast a variety of low-level spells without need for a catalyst. Due to her extensive capabilities she can cast very quickly, chaining two or three spells together to amplify or combine their effects. Irial is also highly studied in matters of supernatural creatures, but her knowledge of the mundane is remarkably lacking. Indeed, Irial is rather useless when it comes to mundane tasks, and is physically very weak. As with all elvenkind, however, she is much lighter then she looks and can move quickly in short bursts(more athletic elves can obviously do so for longer).
• Salvaged Item: Irial's Reinestange, a polished wooden mage's staff with a pure mana crystal mounted on the tip. She's very upset none of her books survived.
• History: Irial was born as the only child of the Romyre family. Due to very low elven birth rates, this is not exactly uncommon. From young childhood her parents desired for her to become an excellent mage, just as they had. After all, as the Archmage of Aman Duun, the High Elven mage's academy, her father certainly desired to have a child just as accomplished as himself. Her mother, too, as a court mage, desired a similar result. And so, even at such a "young" age of thirty, Irial become highly accomplished and knowledgeable about magic. Naturally not to the status of a truly powerful mage, but for a young elven girl it was impressive. It was not long after her thirtieth birthday that her parents were approached about the expedition to the uncharted continent. However, their duties were too important to allow themselves to leave. And their daughter, they initially asserted, too young. However, after much consideration and testing of Irial's skills, they eventually allowed their daughter to go in their stead.
• Nation of Origin: Aunen Gaeth, the last land of the High Elves.
• Nation Lore: Long, long ago, the High Elves ruled many lands, having split from the wood and dark elves even further in the past.. While they were excellent to their own kind, an arrogance plagued them, made them believe themselves better then other beings. This state persisted for many years, and the arrogance of High Elves drove them further and further, to greater and greater lengths to show their superiority. Naturally, such things can only end in disaster. A magical experiment to pierce the veil of reality into another world caused a catastrophe that swallowed the High Elven capital of Gehaer Leth, and wreaked havoc upon their lands, killing many high elves. The remaining elves retreated to their ancestral home, the last land relatively unharmed, Aunen Gaeth. Many of their former lands were swiftly claimed by other races. The disaster humbled the high elves, and they began to reconsider themselves. After all, they had made such a horrible mistake, perhaps their feelings of superiority were utterly undeserved? They, as a result, did not seek to reclaim their old lands. Even if they had tried, they were far too few in number to do such a thing. Indeed, it almost appeared as if the High Elven race would have died out... if not for their newly-bustling trade with humans. Some scholars believe that interbreeding with humans is the only reason there are High Elves at all today. Most modern high elves possess a small percentage of human blood, even if they do not show any human traits and possess the endless lifespan of their race. Today, the High Elves still hold pride in their work, but never will they forget the disaster their past arrogance brought upon them.
  
  Aunen Gaeth lies to the southwest. It is a fertile land, with short winters, and holds the current High Elven Capital of Miur Taenn. The high elven population is low, but stable, as age cannot fell an elf, but birth rates are quite low. While in the past, other races were not allowed free passage into High Elven lands, today's High Elves welcome their modern allies, though few live within the borders of Aunen Gaeth.
  
  The High Elves are ruled by the High Elven King and Queen, Tenneth Myryn and Eslieth Myryn. A large mage's college is held within the borders of the capital, and is a respected place of education.
• Other: Irial is largely useless at any physical exertion. However, she can bake, due to a personal love of pastries.

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

No-one is. She darted out to deal with the crossbowman and got cut off by surprise by the falling tree.

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

I'll only be waiting for everyone involved in fighting Jeremiah to post again, since this needs more immediate response. ^^;

Poor Fanilly, grabbed by an attractive older girl having to have fought off such a scary opponent.

From Barren Shores: A Fantasy Survival RP (Interest Check)

Interest so yeah!

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

The enormous sword came down. Fanilly lept back, her heart hammering in her chest, and watched as the hard ground was torn where she just stood. But without missing a beat, Jeremiah brought his sword back up and pushed forward, aiming to skewer her before she could recover. The blonde girl managed to throw herself out of the way, but barely, rolling to the side and holding her sword at the ready. But the huge man was already facing her, ready to attack once more.

"Do you know why I'm here, little girl?!" he said, his voice a gleeful snarl as he spoke. In an instant he was already swinging his enormous sword. Fanilly, eyes wide with fear, attempted to sidestep, and in a last desperate bid raised her sword to defend herself. She felt the impact slam into her body even from a glancing blow and was sent reeling, pain reverberating up her arm as she did. She barely managed to catch herself. The flames were so hot from the burning tree, she could feel them from here. Perhaps if someone was moving fast enough they could get through it relatively unscathed, but...

For now she was on her own.

"... N-no, I don't," Fanilly, straightening and trying to quell the quavering in her voice, "But regardless, you are an enemy of Thaln's people and must be defeated!"

"Heh, what a fool," he commented, simply, "I have killed hundreds of knights, spilled the blood of men across the battlefield for years. I'm here to do the very same with your order!"

He was moving again. This time, Fanilly felt herself move before his sword came down. His swings were practiced, he wasn't attacking like a wild berserker! But at the same time, Fanilly herself was learning that if she kept moving she could still outpace him! Perhaps if she could get around him, perhaps...!

Suddenly the girl saw Jeremiah alter the course of his sword, swinging it outwards and towards her. She barely had time to get her sword between her body and his before it hit. The impact slammed into her, and she felt the breath leave her body and paint reverberate up her arm. Fanilly was lifted from the ground and sent careening through the air, her sword tumbling away and skittering across the ground. She rolled once and came to a stop on her stomach, panting as she tried to right herself.

This man was a monster! Even unarmored he fought with such confidence!

The girl's arms trembled as she tried to get up. She didn't think she was seriously injured, she had to calm down! She had to get her sword and-

Fingers wrapped around her helmet and pulled it off, tossing it aside. A hand wrapped around her throat and lifted her into the air, immediately digging in.

"My joy in life," growled Jeremiah, "What brings me happpiness, is death. So I joined this trash, to make them into a threat that you Iron Roses would notice. To draw you here. To kill you. And what better way to kill you then to begin by beheading your order?"

The man chuckled to himself as his grip tightened on Fanilly's through. Her heart was bounding, her eyes wide as she struggled to breath. No... she couldn't breath, her legs kicking as one hand clasped at his arm.

"But maybe... maybe I'll keep you, girl," the man continued, grinning, "Let the death of your order break your will, turn you into nothing more then a trophy! The trophy that marks the death of the Iron Roses!"

Fanilly gasped. She could feel herself slipping. She'd fall unconscious soon. Was he right? Would he kill the Iron Roses? Her own grip slackened as she felt her dagger begin to-

... Her dagger...

"Besides, it would be a waste to-"

Fire lit in Fanilly's eyes, she swung her arm up and then downwards. A Parrying Dagger was not made for attacking, and yet it served well against Jeremiah's bare arm. The tip bit into his flesh and plunged into him, drawing blood. He let out a cry of pain and shock, his grip loosening!

Fanilly fell to the ground, clutching her throat with her free hand and coughing. Her neck hurt, his grip had been squeezing the air from her body... but she was alive! Managing to steady herself before the massive man could recover, she sprinted for her sword, grasping it in her right hand and raising it.

"All your words have done is tell me you're nothing more then a monster, Three Hundred Man-slayer!" she called, raising her sword, "And it is the Iron Roses' duty to slay monsters, even if they're human!"

His arm was streaming red. She'd managed to force her dagger in deep. Fanilly was still scared. But now... if she could keep on her toes...!