Ayath Moonsong

[ayath]

Name:

Darlena Fairchild, now goes by Ayath Moonsong

Age:

Twenty

Race:

Human

Occupation:

Wandering Bard

Allegiance:

Seems as though it's to herself.

Physical Description:

Ayath has long curly black hair and piercing eyes. Normally she's able to tone down her gaze so she looks like the cheerful performer she masquerades as, but sometimes people catch a glimpse of the warrior within her. She is very fit, thanks to all the rigorous training she puts herself through. She normally wears flowing skirts and loose blouses, hiding her leather armor underneath the material. When in town she will walk with slippers, but when riding she wears the boots that she has stashed in her possessions. Her sword is kept in a scabbard on her horse when she's in town, but since she'll stash her performance clothes when out of town she normally wears it on her hip. She carries herself with grace and confidence, something that probably aids to how much money she can make for a performance. In addition to singing, she's also learned to play a few instruments and has gathered stories from towns across their continent.

Personality:

Ayath is very secretive, even though at first glance it may not appear so. She has almost a split personality between when she is performing and when she wishes to stay hidden. When she's being a travelling bard, she's a beacon of light and makes everyone who hears her smile. When she's on the road and alone, she's the bitter adult of a child whose life was ripped from her in the worst way. She has almost an obsession to finding her sister, despite the fact that it's been five years. In her head, Marianne is still alive and waiting to be rescued. This is what drives Ayath when nothing else can.

History:

Darlena Fairchild was born to Genny and Harold Fairchild in one of the small farming towns in Alagaësia. She was the pride of not just her parents, but the whole village. Their harvest hadn't been doing well in the past few years, so it had been increasingly difficult for couples to give birth to a healthy baby that would live past Winter. Darlena grew up quiet and shy, with no real friends to play with. The children nearest to her in age were all boys, and all a couple years older than her. They would insist that she couldn't be part of their group and take off running whenever she asked to play.

When she was six, her mother told her that she was pregnant again. Ever since Darlena's birth, the harvests had been getting progressively better. Darlena was overjoyed and would pray every night for a little sister. Her mind became focused on just that, and it no longer bothered her when they boys would taunt her and run away because she knew that she would have her own little group soon. She was correct, and in the spring her mother gave birth to a baby girl. They named their second daughter Marianne, and Darlena was smitten from the first time she layed eyes on her.

Darlena and Marianne were inseperable growing up. They invented their own codes and games, and ignored the boys as they had done to Darlena in the past. They would go out to the cron fields and gather husks, and make their own dolls. Anything they did was done together. The village was prospering and all seemed like it would be golden. However, on the eve of Darlena's fifteenth birthday, the illusion would be shattered.

That night Darlena's family had a special dinner for her, then she and Marianne went for a walk. Her sister presented her with a necklace she had made with the help of the town's blacksmith. It was a simple chain with an opal fixed onto it, and it was the best present Darlena had ever gotten. As they walked back toward town the noticed smoke. This set off alarms in both girls' heads and they started to run.

The town was in flames, and swarming amongst the buildings were bandits. There had to be at least twenty. Without thinking about it, Darlena tucked her present into her blouse. Marianne grabbed her hand and they made a run for their house, but their parents were outside of it, slaughtered on their own doorstep. The girls stared in horror, unable to move. Thundering hooves jarred them from their thoughts as a horseman rode by and scooped up Marianne. Darlena cried out, but as he grabbed her sister he hit her in the temple and she crumbled. Another of the bandits stopped, but left her assuming she was dead. All she heard before she passed out was the word 'dragon'.

The fires burned down overnight and Darlena woke up with a throbbing headache. She looked at the town, which was now reduced to ashes, and remembered that they took her sister. She got up, brushed herself off, and began walking. She journeyed to the next big town, which was only a few days away. She sustained herself on berries and nuts, stumbling once she hit the gates. An older woman scooped her up immediately and brought her to the manor house where she worked. She cleaned her up, fed her a proper meal, and let her sleep for a few days. The master of the house was a kind one, and allowed Darlena to stay.

For two years she worked at this house, but she was only biding her time. She taught herself to fight with a sword late at night, using a large kitchen knife or a weighty stick. She would accompany the master's daughter when she went riding. The rich blonde thought of Darlena as a sort of friend and taught the girl to ride. She also tried to puzzle out the word 'dragon', and came to the conclusion that it was Riders that took her sister. A bit farfetched, but a goal nonetheless. On the eve of her seventeenth birthday, she felt ready. Two years after her town was raized to the ground Darlena snuck out and took the horse from the stable. She left town with just the horse and the gold in her purse. It was a foolhardy move to be certain, and she was very lucky that she wasn't ambushed on her way to the next town.

She bought some light leather armor and a sword, but it took all of her money. Just as she was wondering if she was going to have to steal her supper, she walked by a musician playing a lute. It gave her an idea. She set herself up and an inn and sang for their entertainment, which earned her enough coin for a good meal, board, and then some. She always listened carefully for the voice of the man that said the only word which provided her the only clue she had to cling to. She hasn't heard it yet.

She now travels as a bard, a seemingly harmless entertainer. She's since adopted an alias to cover who she once was. However, she's hunting down the bandits that stole her sister, sharpening her skills as a swordswoman.

Roleplaying Sample:

Ayath smiled and bowed at the applause ringing from end to end of the tavern. She had just finished one of her more popular songs, and the audience was chanting for more. "Unfortunately... I must retire." She held her hands up as the crowd displayed their disappointment. They quieted down at her raised hands. "If I am prompted enough, however, I may be able to extend my stay another night." The crowd cheered and gold coins rained onto the stage. With a sly and practiced hand, Ayath scooped them into the change purse at her hip. There was easily enough here to warrent another week in this town, but Ayath knew that she had to be on the move. She never stayed more than two nights in one place.

After sweeping the stage clean of coins, she blew a kiss to the crowd and hopped delicately offstage. A few people approached her to tell her how good she was, and she accepted their praise with a smile and polite thank you. She didn't usually pay attention to these people, performing was not her passion. She hadn't really given thought to what she was going to do after she found Marianne, but she knew it wouldn't be this. In moments she had slipped out the door. What she didn't notice was a cloaked man follow her.

It was a lot quieter outside the tavern, and she inhaled the crisp, clean air gratefully. It was a beautiful night, even if the moon was only half full. She started the short path to the barn and her her gray mare, Belladonna. The other horses in the barn were asleep, but Ayath was greeted by Bella's warm brown eyes and a soft knicker. She patted the horse's muzzle absently. It was nights like this that Ayath felt truely alone. Suddenly she stiffened as she felt the point of a knife in her back and a grubby voice command her to hand over her change purse.

Ayath felt half anger, half amusement. Men always assumed she was a delicate little flower that would burst into tears when threatened. Pity they were all wrong. Ayath nodded her head, knowing that his gaze would come to the back of her head before kicking backwards as hard as she could. She hit him right below his kneecap, and ripped her sword from its scabbard as he stumbled backwards. She whirled around to face her attacker, swinging her short sword in her hand. "You've picked the wrong girl..." she said in a growl. Since he hadn't expected her to fight back, he dropped his dagger and fled, stumbling on the way out. Ayath stayed in a warrior stance as she watched him go, only at ease when he was out of sight. She looked down at the dagger and picked it up. It was plain, nothing remarkable or interesting about it. She tucked it in her belt anyway, you never knew when you would need something. She sighed lightly, then gave Bella a quick kiss on the nose before heading back to the tavern to sleep for the night. She'd have to be up before dawn if she wanted to leave in time.

[Kite]

Accepted! Welcome!