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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Zappo" data-source="post: 1933028" data-attributes="member: 633">Lyrael, half-elf bladesinger.  ----- Personal history  Lyrael was born in the woodsy domain of Tepest in the terrifying plane of Ravenloft. His mother was one of the very, very rare elves of the domain of dread, and one of the few who was accepted among the small communities of Tepest. She taught him the ways of the elves, the secrets of the music of war; in the twenty years it took for Lyrael to learn the art of mixing battle, magic and dance, he remembers she never seemed to age a single year. As it often happens in Ravenloft, her elven resistance to aging was not of use. Lyrael's mother was killed during an attack on their town, Brigdarrow, by a pack of werecreatures.  Lyrael took upon himself the role of defender which she had. He was among the best town guards of Brigdarrow, and well known in town for his equal skill in dance, song, magic and death for the horrors lurking in the woods of Tepest. Brigdarrow was flourishing, the pain for the loss of his mother was fading, and he was beginning to feel as happy as you can be in Ravenloft - when the Mists took him.  Of that journey, Lyrael remembers nothing. He, as well, as several other people which he didn't recognize, simply appeared in the forests of Tepest. None of them recalled what happened, but they all had a distinct feeling of having failed, of impending doom. In Lyrael's pocket, he had a map of a place he didn't recognize - but upon reading the name of Vecna, he was filled of terror, without knowing why. When they reached a town, Lyrael quickly discovered that he had been missing for one full year, during which Brigdarrow was attacked and destroyed by an army of undead monsters.  Astonishment turned to pain when he witnessed the devastation by himself. Pain turned to a thirst for vengeance when he led the companions to stop a powerful necromancer from turning his old friends and loves into undead monstrosities. But that was only the first step in the long way to making Tepest safe again - a journey which culminated in the defeat of the evil god and his minions. Lyrael was the only one, among those who woke up that day in the woods, to see the end of this conflict.  ----- Physical description  Lyrael is of average human height and build, with shoulders-length blonde hair, light blue eyes, and the fair complexion so common in Tepest (where the sun is clouded more often than not). In fact, his figure is normal for a human, but rather robust for a half-elf - Lyrael has well-trained muscles and a surprising strength. Even though he does nothing to hide his heritage, most people in Ravenloft mistake him for a common, if a bit exotic-looking, human. Well-travelled people, as well as the rare and unlucky visitors from other planes, recognize him as a half-elf from the shape of his ears, eyes and face.  The bladesinger wears light mithral chain armor which he keeps mostly under common travel clothes, showing only mithral sleeves and the coif, hanging from his shoulders. When Lyrael wants to keep a low profile, he can easily hide the armor entirely under the clothes. The elven armor is so light that Lyrael often forgets or simply doesn't bother to remove it while sleeping, especially when travelling in dangerous zones. His only other defense is a small buckler, made from mithral as well, giving the impression of an easy target. This couldn't be farther from the truth; the bladesinger can dodge and parry like few other swordsmen and only expert fighters can even hope to touch the silvery mail, let alone his actual body.  Against serious threats, though, Lyrael dons his real armor - magic. In a matter of seconds, the bladesinger can wrap himself in enough spells to ward off or confuse any but the most powerful attackers. Against serious threats, Lyrael is a blur of fractured images, moving supernaturally fast around his foes like a whole troupe of dancers.  Lyrael's weapon of choice is the longsword; currently, he uses a lightning-enchanted weapon, claiming that he loves the zapping noise and flashes it makes when he draws it from the sheath at his left side. The half-elf has a pragmatic approach to equipment, and always carries a side weapon, should an enemy manage to disarm him. At his right side, he keeps another sheath with another long sword, not magical but made from pure adamantine.  ----- Personality and notes  The nonchalant use of magic is actually a prominent feature of the half-elf, who has been trained in the arcane since birth. He uses magic to fight, but also to flavor his food, to provide entertainment, and to keep himself clean (most people wonder for days how the hell he can keep using the same clothes, sleep in armor, and still smell like roses). He has got from his mother the elven habit of becoming fascinated with something and focusing on it for inordinate amounts of time: instead of moving on to the higher levels of magic, he keeps refining his use of the common combat spells; instead of learning to use more weapons, he concentrates on the longsword. Luckily, this dedication is practically a requirement for his bladesinger profession.  Lyrael is one of the few champions of goodness in Ravenloft. He has placed himself at risk to save the ones he love, again and again, each time coming out on his feet and each time reinforced in his belief that selfless acts deserve success. The only dark side of his soul is the thirst for vengeance. Lyrael has seen all of his friends die one after the other at the hands of Vecna's minions. For revenge, he picked up the Sword of Kas even though he fully knew that he could not control it, risking the lives of everyone around him. The gamble paid off, and revenge is now complete - but what the future holds is uncertain.  Lyrael used to be pretty tolerant of odd-looking people and creatures, as long as they behaved. This has recently changed, and now the bladesinger is more inclined to kill on sight creatures that are known to be evil, or at least to do what he can to keep them away from him. Whether this will become a problem is yet to see.  ----- Memorable scenes  The reason for Lyrael's recently-acquired xenophobia is recounted in this tale. His party had allowed a troll to travel with them for a while, and while the creature had a tendancy to vanish during combat, it didn't cause trouble either. This particular troll was very intelligent, and capable of casting spells; it spent most of the time polymorphed.  The creature betrayed them during an important fight. The good Lyrael insisted that the party spellcasters tried to dispel any mind-affecting enchantment that could be on the troll, but was quickly forced to accept the fact that the creature was doing this of its own will. The monster escaped, but returned just hours later to ambush them in a city.  Lyrael and two of his companions - a cleric and a wizard - found themselves in the room of an inn together with a three meters tall troll bent on killing all of them and with no easy escape. The troll grappled the wizard and killed him in a matter of seconds while the cleric desperately cast protective spells and the bladesinger tried in vain to free him. Then, the monster attacked the cleric and killed him as well, while the half-elf was hitting it as hard and fast as he could.  The rest of the battle was fought over the corpses of the two friends, in the rubble of the room (half of the ceiling and walls had collapsed by now). The bladesinger had spent every spell still in his mind. In the eyes of the troll, Lyrael was a multiplied, blurry image, almost as strong as itself, taller, and angrier. His sword rained on the monster like a shower of razor-sharp pieces from a broken stained glass window during a thunderstorm. When the troll fell, Lyrael was still untouched.  The half-elf commanded the villagers to raise a bonfire, and was about to throw its regenerating body over it, when a hag teleported in front of the flames, before the crowd. "Hand me the troll", the witch said, "or I will kill you and these people".  Alone and tired, the bladesinger was forced to comply. "But be warned, witch. If I meet this monster again, it will die". More bodies to bury, more vengeance to seek.</blockquote>

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