Laelia Bloodborn

[Laelia Bloodborn]

LAELIA BLOODBORN
Daughter of Blood, Queen of Vroenar, Skinshifter

Age: 26

Religion and Language: Speaks Samai, worships blood.

Race: Chamorphagus

Magic: N/A

Alignment: Her clan

Profession: Leader of the Vroenar Clan

Appearance:Laelia is a chamorphagus. Although she can change her appearance at will she tends to keep to her original form. She doesn't like making known what she is as it could prove to be a useful tool in the future. Lealia stands at five foot eight. Her skin bronze and darkened more by her life in the sun. She has long dark hair that falls past her chest and a square jaw. Her eyes are quite dark. She is strong with a good physique. She is obviously well toned and hardened by her lifestyle. She often dresses in an orange red or brown cloth. She wears brown sandals and carries around a bow and arrow set and multiple unique knifes.

She has three common companions, a hawk named Sand and a pair of tiger cubs named Strife and Fury that were given to her as a gift not a moon passed.

Personality:

Laelia is incredibly strong willed. She is determined to succeed in whatever she does. She is manipulative and works to get her way. She is no pushover and expects obedience in the clan. She can be deceitful and often does not mean what people think she does. She is loyal to herself and to her clan above all else.

Laelia believes that as she was born in blood she will succeed in blood and eventually die in blood. She does not believe in pure killing. She would much rather draw out the deaths of her enemies, however if a quick kill is what is needed than that she will do. Laelia lives to her own code. A code that no one has yet to been deciphered.

She does not believe in second chances but has been known to make some unexpected decisions at her whim. She is not the type of person who will take no for an answer. In her presence that word is a death sentence.

History:

It is said that my mother did not fear death. That she would have greeted the silence peacefully had it not been for the child she carried. Only a few were there to watch the blood drip down my father's hands as he held my dying mother. There was nothing anyone could do. The slash of an enemy's blade had brought forth too much blood. However my father refused to let the slayer take two lives with one shot, even if he had done it countless times himself. My mother was to weak to scream when he sliced her open. She had died by the time I took my first breath. I was brought into this world with blood and from that day onward it would be my partner in life.

As a babe I had several wet-nurses. It was an honour to sustain the life of the daughter of blood. I held a blade in my hand before I could walk and I shifted my appearance long before words would pass through my lips. Like my mother before me I was a chamorphagus a fact my father hid from every member of the clan. It was a precious gift to be able to take on the voice and appearance of another, one which would be a great benefit as years passed.

I lived a life of harsh reality. If you could not survive than you simply did not deserve to live. I had been a survivor since birth. The knives belonged in my hands as did the bow slung across my back. I grew up knowing that nothing is certain. The battle for life fought between clans was the only thing I knew. I do not know the face of the man who slated my father. I do know that he must have been a true warrior. Only a god can destroy a god.

No tears did I shed. Upon his death I took up his battle. I was young, but worthy. I was challenged by five men who believed they were undefeatable. The first met his end with a simple knife, the second by his own weapon. The third of blood loss from the wounds on his body and the fourth drowned in the dirt where I shoved his face. The fifth remained alive, although he had no tongue to speak out against me. His face was destroyed and his strong hand cut and fallen into the sand. He is the reminder to the clan of who I am.

There is a circle with unwavering loyalty to me. It is only them that I trust. Someday soon the land will be coated with the blood of the dying. Vroenar will rise no matter the cost it will have to pay.


Your OOC name: KAY AGAIN

[The Storyteller]

He could hear drums. Drums in the night.

His people were punching the table in front of them, as the fires were lit. The sound of drums became faster and deeper. A fast pace as the crowd was preparing for the story of their clan.

"This story is a story of greatness. When you are born with a great gift, you have an even greater responsibility to use it right. Those born in the midst of battle are blessed with great strength and courage, that much has been known since the beginning of time and Chreina's dark ages under the vile princes." he said, as everyone spat on the ground as he mentioned the princes.

And then the drums stopped.

"This is the story of Laelia Bloodborn, and our story as well."