Difference between revisions of "Illyriana Maxima"
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<div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#999999;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;font-variant: small-caps;"><b>Adulthood</b></div> | <div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#999999;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;font-variant: small-caps;"><b>Adulthood</b></div> | ||
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− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font size="2"> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font size="2">Dalamund has descended and the calamity had come; leaving in its wake a sea of death and confusion. Illyriana and Vhallen where fortunately spared most of the hardships that followed after, but their lives where not free of turmoil. Anshelm had grown senile, warped and changed due to the horrors of the crash down paired with old age. He had little the force needed to maintain his position in the region; supplies grew as thin as his nerves. The Golden Sands where in turmoil, many left out of fear of Anshelm’s fits of rage, dispersing throughout the regions of Thanalan to various bandit brigades. Vhallen, however, was still unable to leave his father; he toiled to try and easy his mind, taking on more increasingly dangerous missions to try and acquire the supplies needed for the few that where left. Illyriana had grown increasingly frail, her body now teetering upon unhealthy levels of low weight and minimum muscle mass but Anshelm still went out of his way to drag her into situations barely any of The Golden Sands where able to walk away from. On the final mission she would attend, Fehain, Anselm’s second in command was stricken down by a mortal blow and Illyriana, being exhausted from lack of food and rest was unable to do little more than watch. This threw Anshelm into a rage so violent that the young Au Ra was left battered, bruised, and limping with a broken leg; Vhallen had had enough. In the dead of night, he retrieved her from her slumber; packing a few bits of food and water for the long haul from the Thanalan deserts to the boarders of the Black Shroud. He carried her for 2 days, resting at night when we could find them ample shelter. They were so close, just another day’s walk and they would be able to start their life anew, it would be hard but they knew they could both accomplish anything together. On their last night before their final trek, the moon hung high with an almost red haze, the trees rustled as the nearby winds from the shroud made their way across the cold desert stands but sadly this would be their final night together. Without warning they were ambushed, Vhallen had been careless, he had thought there was no way his father would be so far gone as to peruse him, but alas there he was… sword in hand and a blood lust in his eyes. Anshelm fumed with a deep rage; his only son whom he had raised alone all these years had disobeyed him, had left him over a woman. This woman, this scaled demon STOLE his son. She was deceiving him, he through, using him because she was too weak to stand on her own two feet. If she was gone the problem would be gone as well, kill the young lamed Au Ra and his son would return to his side; with that thought buzzing in his mind he flew into a berserk rage towards Illyriana, axe in hand. Vhallen quickly responded, deflecting his father’s axe with his own. He would not let anyone harm his beloved. Illyriana screamed as loud as her frail voice would allow, she begged and pleaded for them to stop, that no one needed to fight, that she’d seen enough death and couldn’t bear to see the man who took her in and the man she loved fight each other… or even worse kill one another. Her cries, however, fell on deaf ears. The two Highlanders had both flown into a rage, neither willing to back down; trading once vicious blow after the other. The sound of clashing steel and yells rang through the cold night until after almost 2 bells the sounds grew dull, and then… there was silence. Vhallen had emerged the victor, his father eventually collapsing to the ground… his old age had finally caught up with him and in his final moments he saw his son covered in blood standing over him. What a fool he’d been, to only see now that all his life all he has ever wanted was for his son to be happy; and with that, he drew his final breath. Vhallen staggered, dropping his axe and collapsing to the ground, his body covered in deep wounds as he reached his hand heavily towards his love. Illyriana crawled to Vhallen’s side; her ankle was engorged and swollen from a break that has yet to properly heal. She tried as hard as she could to muster what energy she had to heal him, she couldn’t lose him… Vhallen was all she had. She couldn’t go one without him, she wouldn’t…. But sadly she did not have the energy to conjure, her failed attempts to heal him growing more and more desperate as her sobs became heavy. Vhallen reached up to her, placing his chilled hand against her cheek as he gentle spoke to her, “Don’t cry beloved. There is so much more for you to see in this world. Its beauty rivaled only by your own. No matter where you go or what you do, I’ll always be with you. You’re free, no one to hold you back, tell you where to go or who to be…. This is all I’ve ever wanted for you. Be happy my love and know that no matter how long, I’ll be waiting for you. Just promise me… you’ll smile more?” And with those last words he gave her a gentle smile as she attempted to nod through the heart break washing over her; his hand slipped, hitting the ground beside her and all grew silent… Vhallen had left her, passing away with a smile on his face; knowing that the one thing he had wanted for her he was finally able to provide. Illyriana crumpled, clinging to Vhallen’s still warm body she sobbed throughout the night until the sun began to rise. As the hot sun rose she laid beside Vhallen, holding his lifeless hand in hers; she refused to leave him behind… how could she? It was at this time that a small band of traveling merchants in route to Gridania stumbled upon the horrific scene, rushing to her aid they tried to piece together what had happened through her broken sobs. They knew the young woman was in need of dire aid; covered from head to two in blood and bruises, her ankle had swollen to almost three times the size it should have been. They tried to pick her up and move her to their caravan but she screamed, clinging tightly to the body of the male Highlander; her voice cracked as she yelled, she refused to move, she refused to leave her fiancé behind. Eventually the band of merchants agreed and they gathered his body, wrapping it in cloth and placing it in the back of one of the wagons where they ushered her to sit. The trip was long, each moment she sat looking at Vhallen’s body wrapped in cloth she began to grow more and more aware of the events that had unfolded and that her life would never be the same. She steeled her heart as much as possible as they grew closer to the city-state, but she had no words upon arrival… she could not bring herself to say that Vhallen had died… saying those words would mean this was her reality now. Vhallen was buried in a peaceful spot of the Black Shroud, on a hilltop overlooking the beautiful rivers they had longed to see together… when Illyriana would visit his gave it felt as though they truly where able to see the gentle waters together. She would spend almost two years with the conjurer’s guild as she healed deep wounds that where both physical and mental, during which she learned that she could embrace the abilities she had, even grow them. She devoted herself to the conjurer’s guild, working day and night to better herself. She wanted to grow, become someone who would be able to better the world and make Vhallen proud of her. She would devote herself to the healing arts. </font></div><br> |
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Revision as of 09:28, 20 November 2016
Illyriana Maxima
The Gentle Light of Gridania
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Details
General Information Illyriana is a gentle, quiet spirit with a hidden love of exploration. Due to years of isolation through her childhood she is not good with large groups of people but pushes herself to try and socialize. She is very approachable but tends to stutter or fidget if she's caught off guard. She has an innate distaste for sand and desert climates and would rather spend her time nestled in the trees of Gridania or under to cool sea winds of Costa Del Sol. Young and free willed, gentle yet as solid as an oak (emotionally...), she strives to find her place in this world as she walks in the light of the crystal. Appearance
Personality
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Combat, Abilities & Weaponry
Non-Combat Abilities
Combat Abilities
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History . Disclaimer: .
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Gallery
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OOC Notes
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Credits Wiki Information
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