Mordred Lyloche
“From the moment you were born, threads of fate have bound you just the same as all Her Children. Born to fulfill a purpose, born to wreak havoc, born to bless those with courage, born to fulfill a purpose. You, Medraut, are a man born to cast aside Her light, cradle yourself in the Dark, and usher in despair for those around you and yet you struggle against causality. Your fate has become muddied, but perhaps it is for that reason there is hope.”
-Cliariene Kejoreur, a heretical witch of fate moments before being cut down by Sir Mordred of the Temple Knights
Mordred Lyloche is a mature character. The themes within his story are intended for a mature audience capable of handling extreme violence, questionable and realistic tropes, and graphic situations.
General Appearance
Rare is the blood of the truest of knights in an age in which fate offers not kind living but horrifying turbulence, but beating within the heart of Mordred Lyloche - struggling against his own poisonous mentality - is the spirit of a true knight of justice and good.
Standing at a towering height of six fulms, six ilms Mordred Lyloche bears his dual heritage with the blessings of both races. From that of the Elezen flowing through his veins, he bears a substantial height and pointed ears while his Hyuran lineage offers unto him a keen aptitude toward magic and a broader physique due to his father’s own considerably large size. Beneath the tapestry of armor that he cloaks himself with, Mordred’s features are pleasant and handsome, often attributing this beauty that he maintains to the beauty of his mother. Shaggy, haphazardly cut hair with several strands of grey covers the top of his head, sometimes going so far as to get in the way of his sight. Just beneath the thick layers of hair, thick black eyebrows provide animated emphasis to his expressions, thoughts, and true beliefs during most conversations. Just beneath those eyebrows are stirling, crystalline blue eyes that peer out toward the world with hope and a predisposition for attempting to see the light even when the dark encroaches upon any given situation. Slightly pointed ears protrude from that mane of hair, the left suffering a slight knick in its side. Coating the lower portion of the man’s face is a medium-length beard which seems just as disorderly as that of his hair. Across the man’s nose, cutting through his lips, along the left side of his cheek, piercing through his right eye, and on his right cheek are souvenirs of battle, scars which give emphasis to the man’s history of combat, momentos meant to remind him of carelessness or hard-won victories.
The physique of the man is what one would come to expect from one who does battle with the forces of darkness and clings to a mammoth monstrosity of a sword. Shoulders raised high and broad bear power within their faculties, the truest reason his ability to heft the monolith with which he fights.By no means a frivolous man, Mordred’s frame does not boast muscle for the sake of appearing a certain way but often showcases the lifestyle of hard travel and even harder fought battles hoisting his sword for hours on end in the face of adversity. While it is perhaps uncommon among those of the frivolous, Mordred’s physique has its fair share of hair along his pecs, beneath his arms, and trailing down from his belly button. In a disgusting, gruesome display of scarring, the man’s belly carries with it scar-tissue that appears to stem from a battering ram or even cannon fire toward his abdomen. Along his right arm are hideous scars that seem to criss-cross every which way along his bicep, trailing down toward his forearm, perhaps from a time when the use of feeble shields gave way to enemy assault. Trailing along the man’s sizable back are thin, strip-like scars that no doubt seem to have come from some sort of whip of coeurl o’ nine-tails.
Raised in an oppressive household, Mordred’s solace was found in the way of story books, daydreams, and his own imagination. Where others played in the streets with friends, Mordred stayed shut in his room with what few possessions his father afforded him, stricken by the belief that his son would be his undoing by way of horrifying nightmares. Due to this sheltered environment, Mordred stood out when first joining the Temple Knights, owning no sense of camaraderie or trust in anything other than his own sword arm. Throughout his training, Mordred suffered under the watchful gaze of his father’s best friend: Launcelot. Throughout all of this hardship, Mordred clung to the stories of his childhood, the gallant knights that weathered any storm, and held fast to their convictions. The flames of his desperation, the blizzard of his solitude, and the hell of his life in service to the Holy See forged Mordred into the honorable knight he is to this day.
Much to Mordred’s shame, burning deep within the well of his persona lies a strong, overwhelming desire to survive and live. Even when Mordred has resigned himself to submission or becomes awash with the idea he will not be able to fight his way out of a situation, when upon the precipice, that desire bubbles up within him and burns brighter than ever before. Nothing is sacred to his mentality from that animalistic point of survival, the struggle to win and survive.
Regardless of Mordred’s appearance - clad in profane armor seeped in powerful aether - there is nothing to suggest by the way of his actions that he is anything less than a just knight. Walking the path of the Dark Knights, Mordred is forever at war with the doctrine of his own self-righteousness and ideals of justice while attempting to meld with that of societal expectation. When it comes to routing out evil, he does not often trust the systems in place meant to mete out justice, preferring his own brand of quick retribution to the ideals of the sacrosanct elite.
Weaponry
- Clarent:Forged by the proprietess of the Exalted Anvil, Clarent was meant to be offered to an Elezen nobleman as a decoration to make a metaphor of his family’s incredible strength. When the lord of the house took such an offering literally and was unable to lift the monolithic weapon, the gift was sent back to its creator and the Exalted Anvil lost its place on retainer for the Gleaudane household. Believing the weapon not only a waste but a showcasing of her own hubris, Vivien Favre put the sword on display in her shop as a constant reminder of past failings. The sword remained there, a statement for the blacksmith to remember her days as a newly asserted blacksmith until Mordred Lyloche offered to buy it for any price Vivien could have asked for. Relenting after a week of begging, Vivien gave Mordred the blade for free, expecting him to return it immediately. Without fail, Mordred hoisted the weapon from its magnetic stand and tested its mammoth size: shocking Vivien and her customers at that very moment by his ability to wield such an impossible blade.
Ever since, Mordred has treated Clarent as a prized possession, bringing it with him on several journeys and adventures throughout Coerthas, Dravania, and Eorzea. Due to its constant exposure to Mordred’s Darkness, the once sterling silver of the blade has become tainted black and it appears a ripe focus for his entropic powers, particularly keen at biting into demonic foes.
- Tarasque:After years of clinging to the blade Clarent, Mordred sought out Vivien Favre for yet another smithing marvel. The weapon that he explained to the woman would not be an easy task to complete, but she was not a blacksmith in the business of turning away customers or admitting that a task was too difficult for her skills. Working alongside the merchants of the House of Splendors, Vivien was able to procure the materials necessary to not only work as a focus for Mordred’s particular aetherial fingerprint but also amplify the power dramatically, surging the power through the blade itself to extend the blade and crossguard. Named for an Ishgardian beast of nightmares, Tarasque was born after several months of laborious work.
During its first use, Mordred activated the abilities of the blade and immediately fell unconscious as it had sapped him of nearly all the aether he had available at the time. Throughout the time to follow, he has diligently worked to master such a temperamental and powerful blade. When necessary, Mordred has found that not only can he use the blade as an amplification device for his own aether, but he may use it as a focus to send out a wave of the abyssal power he commands. Dubbing the power of the blade Deathbringer as its entropic might often saps Mordred for more than he is willing to give but replenishes his might and even surges his body with strength when cutting into opponents, turning that vampiric touch into a virulent weapon.
Attire & Accessories
- Abyssal Armor: After hearing tales of the fabled Chaos Armor from the small collective of Dark Knights Mordred had met throughout his adventures, Mordred immediately sought out the aid of the blacksmith who was surely amassing a small fortune from all of the incredible wonders she created for Mordred and other would be heroes. Explaining the Chaos Armor to her, Vivien sought to create something of the same likeness, utilizing the secrets of Ishgardian smithing by forging this armor - this armor that would protect Mordred from Ishgard’s own - in the blood of dragons, much akin to the process of creating drachen mail. The extent of the work poured into this profaned, horrifying suit of armor created something far beyond both Vivien and Mordred’s wildest expectations.
Titled the Abyssal Armor, the suit appeared to meld with Mordred’s own aether upon wearing it for the first time. The moment he completed the set of armor, a slight film appeared across his aegis, the likeness of a weakened Shadowskin spell. More than just armor, the suit carried with it several magical capabilities that were meant to ensure not only Mordred’s safety but that he was fighting in tip top shape. When all hope seems lost, Mordred abandons himself completely to trust in the suit that appears to provide some sort of buffer between himself and the heinous technique: Living Dead. So long as the armor remains in tact, Mordred worries not for the loss of his soul in the use of the ability, but the damage sustained by his body within the armor when the spell wears off is not healed away nor forgotten.
- Temple Knight's Armor:
- Nightmare Whistle: Following the close of the Dragonsong War, Mordred sought out the world that he had never truly had the pleasure of seeing. Throughout his travels, the wandering knight encountered raging beastmen with copious amounts of crystals and captured Eorzean defenders in their midst. Readying himself, Mordred engaged in battle with the Amal’jaa of Thanalan and managed to slaughter nearly two dozen of them before he was forced to retreat. In the wake of this battle, Mordred noticed one drop a disturbing object that resembled a whistle. When safely away from the conflict, Mordred tested the archaic object and found that it had summoned an indescribable creature: a nightmare. From that point onward, Mordred has relied on that blasphemous steed to guide him through his travels and see him safely through battlefields.
- Crystal of Light:Unknowing of the circumstance, Mordred awoke from sleep one morning to find that within his grip was a glowing scarlet crystal. The object seemed to offer no purpose but - when stared into long enough - the crystal brought solace to the man’s soul. Without truly understanding the meaning of such an item, Mordred has clung to the crystal ever since, keeping it within his belongings and never leaving without it in his possession. Little did Mordred truly understand that the dreams that accompanied such a crystal were not simple dreams and the Echo that prevented him from falling to the tempering power of primals remained an ever-vigilant bulwark.
- Soul Crystal: While trained in the traditional sense, Mordred did not utilize a Soul Crystal to see himself learning at an accelerated rate. Rather, it was in the moments of his mastery that he began to fully understand the reality of what it meant to be a Dark Knight, that death could occur at any moment. With this in mind, Mordred sought out an untouched Soul Crystal. Keeping it within his possession, it is his hope that in the event of his untimely death, should someone wish to learn his techniques and continue the line of Dark Knights, that they would find the crystal and utilize it to its fullest potential.
Coming Soon.
Some of the rumors herein are grossly over-exaggerated and could be outright false. Feel free to add your own in the PC Rumors.
Common Rumors (Easily overheard)
- Coming soon.
Moderate Rumors (Moderately difficult to overhear)
- Coming soon.
Rare Rumors (Very difficult or rarely overheard)
- Coming soon.
PC Rumors (Rumors from the character's of other players)
Age: 36
Personal Timeline
PENDING LORE CHANGES! Coming soon.
♥ Romantic Interest ♥ Platonic Love ● Good Standing ● Neutral ● Poor Standing ♥ Attraction ☠ Deceased
| ♥● Lydia Lyloche | "What better way is there to describe a dragoon that glides upon gusts of wind as if flying? My wife is akin to the dragons themselves." |
| Where others shunned Mordred upon his descent into the dark, Lydia offered up a torch and accompanied him on his journey. Casting aside both honor and merit, the dragoon who would have reached the heights of legend follows her lover on a path they both believe in. A place where doctrines and laws fall inferior and passionate love breeds further strength. | |
Roleplay Information
Mordred Lyloche and I are completely different entities. I do my best to never blur the lines of RP and try to keep the people I RP and interact with held to that same standard.
