Post by mriswith on Feb 4, 2011 23:56:29 GMT -5
Name: Ishiyo Sasaki
Age: 102
Race: Elf
Occupation: Mercenary
Allegiance: Ilirea
Physical Description:
Ishiyo stands five nine, weighs one hundred thirty five pounds, with a thin ectomorphic body. Her Elven heritage helps keep her slender physique, though Ishiyo spends a great deal of time exercising and practicing various combat arts as well. Such rigorous, daily devotions of the body retain her toned musculature while also honing the mind--sharpening reflexes and stamina needed to combat her enemies.
Humans could mistake Ishiyo for a beautiful, young man given the proper clothing and bit of self-control over the shape of her full lips that flatten at the corners. She retains the usual characteristics of her Elven blood with round, narrow chin. Her eyebrows are thin and slope down toward her nose, while her short, black hair frames her face and stops short of her shoulders in length. Aside from the ageless beauty and pointed ears granted all Elves, Ishiyo's red eyes can at times unsettle Humans who aren't familiar with the myriad colors of Elven eyes. As one whose occupation and interests lie in outdoor activities Ishiyo's skin tone is often a creamy tan, letting the bright red of her eyes glow beneath the dark cover crowning her head.
As a child of discipline for over seventy five years at Ilirea, she holds her head high with her shoulders rolled back when carefully gliding through the city streets. When alone, with no need to match another's gait, she moves with measured steps neither too long nor too wide. A light touch might pardon her progress through the crowd if moving between bodies proves a graceless act. In battle she stoops her body forward with a wider stance in order to remain nimble to evade an enemy's attack; her tactics often one composed of agility and speed than brute force even if her natural, Elven strength over that of a Human might otherwise permit.
Unless there is a special occasion, Ishiyo often wears dark leathers and cloths to grant her protection from the elements and some protection in the event of a skirmish. Often there is no telling when her services might be called upon, as such she prefers to be prepared to act at a moment's notice. At times she wears silver or white-gold jewelry, but refrains from owning too many expensive accessories. For times when her typical gear is not suitable, Ishiyo prefers darker hues of nearly any color. Lighter colors might accentuate an outfit, but she loathes it as a dominate color--especially bright yellow.
The only personal effect of personal value is the sword Ishiyo carries at her hip. It is a radiant, silver blade and the only object she took with her from her home many years ago; it is all she has to remind herself of the burden she bears even as she tries to move on with her life.
Personality:
Driven. Ishiyo strives toward excelling in everything she puts her mind toward. It was a trait that followed her all her time as a student in Ilirea and one not since forgotten. When times turn dark her countenance may waver, but after a quick reminder or time to gather her wits, shaking off the burden of obstacles before her, Ishiyo picks up the baton where it fell and carries on dutifully.
Naturally social and outgoing, Ishiyo rarely cloisters herself away for long in isolation. Interacting with other people through laughter, talking about things big and small, or just venturing out into public places to hear the boisterous life all around reinvigorates her with purpose. Learning to hone her skills or fight for the lives of others without remembering why that was so important would leave her barren and emotionally devoid; states that would frighten her to no end.
Enjoying the companionship of others, she tries to remain respectful, soft spoken, and approachable by everyone around her. A wave, a short greeting, a smile given to familiar people in an early morning. An attentive ear, a few words of advice to those in need of it. A bashful smile and nervous laugh when another flirts with her. Pleasant tidings among the people; all of which tempered by a strong resolve and self-confidence to keep people from mistaking her kindness for foolhardiness.
She tries not to judge those around her without reason, but isn't a saint. Brought up most of her life in Ilirea Ishiyo does not hold a hatred for Humans, though she does have a few reservations about their attitude. Sometimes it seems the two people have so little in common; then she meets one or two that appear to be rather kind or knowledgeable and turns that conception around. Since she was little this constant back and forth continues to leave her perplexed about Humans in general. The state of their land, however, is not so confused; something she wishes Ilirea could help right, but history's shadow still hinders their offer.
Having witnessed the Riders gliding about Ishiyo has always wanted to join them, and intended to find some way to do that before the events back home led to her present trouble. Still, many times Ishiyo enjoys finding a rolling hill or terrace to look up at the sky and catch sight of Riders coming and going. Even her dreams are driven to fulfillment and she has yet to surrender that one, no matter how far away it may seem.
Her optimism was recently dampened by events back at the place of her birth, however. Before even turning to mercenary work--real work since being a student--Ishiyo had learned several hard lessons about the world around her. Lessons that have left her with a burden of pain and guilt that haunt her any time she isn't distracted training or socializing. Idle moments of the day, or when her eyelids fall, darkness sweeps in about her leaving the young Elf breathless. To this day she hasn't spoken to anyone about what really happened.
History:
Practically the day after her parents were slain, Ishiyo was taken by representatives of Ilirea to be trained as had been agreed. The child Elf hadn't even been made aware of the sordid thing, and it was decided to let it pass in favor of her new life in Ilirea.
Ishiyo was driven from the moment she got to Ilirea. As just a tiny girl she'd been brought to the city to educate her on using her Talent. From that day she witnessed wonders children of all races marveled at with wide eyes and hunger. Plenty of times her elders had to teach the energetic Elven child to heed the words of her tutors, not go running off to watch dragons flying about. Several times they enticed the youth back to her studies by reminding her no Elven child would ever grow up to explore such things on their own if they couldn't even master the simplest of magical spells or learn to control their emotions.
Discipline was difficult to master at first, given the well-spring of energy pouring out of Ishiyo, but as years went on she excelled at the art. One day she dreamt of being out there with the men and women who soared in the skies with dragons. She wanted to make a difference and to make her parents proud.
Decades passed and Ishiyo learned to remain calm even in the face of another's temper. For all the hard training to ensure she could control herself and the magic she could command, the young Elf didn't stop smiling, laughing, or quietly chatting with others in the city when they weren't all busy with every day's study. In all that time her enthusiasm never waned about Ilirea or the Riders; even with the darkness shrouding recent history she couldn't believe the talk that such kind and wise people could be as terrible as both Elf and Human made them out to be.
From a few choice encounters Ishiyo did learn some amount of discomfort loitering in the presence of Humans, however. Many times they seemed abrasive and far too confrontational with her or others she knew. She understood their lives were shorter, so they were probably impatient by nature, but that shouldn't excuse them for misbehaving. A few Humans didn't appear so 'uptight,' as one put it, which left Ishiyo conflicted. Plenty of other Elves muttered about their kind and the dark history between their peoples, but for the most part everyone tried to get along at Ilirea--and that acceptance was something Ishiyo herself tried to take to heart.
While Ishiyo's training was focused on the Art of Magic, over the many years in their care she took to the sword as well. It was not unusual for a child of the Elves to master in one of several martial weapons, and despite the natural complexities of magic there was yet time to hone such skills. Other knowledge, that of survival and justice, came to her as well from various tutors.
On her seventy-fifth birthday in the state of Ilirea Ishiyo was released from her training. In recent years the very young Elf had become aware of a long lost sister back in the place of her birth. Once released, Ishiyo made for Du Weldenvarden.
For four years she dwelled in the place of her birth. Ishiyo had always heard few ever reunited with their birth families; that her sister would be so happy to welcome Ishiyo home had certainly surprised the young woman. They got along well, talking of the years gone by and how wonderful it was to see one another again. Despite the pleasantries, however, the younger sister found the culture quite a bit different than that of Ilirea; it took time for her to accept it though she didn't plan on lingering. Eventually she planned to return to Ilirea still aspiring for the honor of Rider. Other Elves did not find it such an honor, but then Ishiyo did not mean to discuss the matter with them.
Nearing the fifth year of her stay Ishiyo began hearing whispers of dark magic near their home. Days, weeks, months passed as the whispers grew louder. On the eve of the Winter Solstice the omens came to their peek and Ishiyo learned a frightful truth.
After she'd been forced to fight her way through guards she'd come to know over the years, Ishiyo landed the blow that would shape the next twenty years of her life. Even the creature that had whispered darkness into the ears of her sister was struck down, but their darkness lived on. Other Elves, thinking Ishiyo a murderer, gave chase.
Over the lands the young Elf ran. Through forest, over road, by stream, and by patrols. Ever closer she grew to the haven of Ilirea, hopeful it would protect her as it always had; that the people there would seek and know the truth of what had happened not blinded by a veil of darkness.
At the edges of safety those in chase caught up with her. They danced through a small village for a time. Ishiyo tried her hardest not to kill those unwittingly used against her. After a long struggle and several blows ripping her flesh, she fled to safety into the arms of a local healer.
Ishiyo's stay with the kind hearted woman was short, but it seemed one of the longest and deepest she'd had in years. On their parting, she offered Ishiyo a contact in Ilirea--family that would gladly help the young Elven woman get back on her feet from her pursuers.
True to the old woman's words, Ishiyo found a friendly noble in the city will to let her reside for several years. The stress of flight and of being found plagued her for that time; cautious that there may still be agents seeking her. Only over time did she begin venturing out into public, but she hoped not to draw too much attention to herself. A name, even if not her True Name, whispered to the wrong ear could bring enemies to her door.
After those years she'd established herself as a mercenary; one available to the city to hire for her magical and martial talents. Others could call upon her services as well. Some, though she kept it from the public ear, even received aid at no cost--should they not be able to afford it, but their cause just. Money meant little compared to the purpose of the task set before her.
Twenty years since being driven from the home she'd rediscovered, Ishiyo has begun to awaken to the dream once more. How long should she hide in the shadows of darkness? How long should she be patient? The threat her sister had nearly unleashed had been stopped, but perhaps there'd been more. It was time, though she did not know yet what the first step would be on this new journey. A difficult task, but she was prepared.
Roleplaying Sample:
The rain beat upon grass and clay roofs. The soft rustles and plinks put those bundled in their homes to sleep. Streets were running with small streams and those without stone were turned to mud. A stiff breeze swept over the houses bringing with it a chill deep enough to bite into a man's bones; it was too cold to freeze. It was the breath of Death.
A shadowed figure bolted across the mouth of an alley between two homes. Seconds later five more followed.
Under the din of downpour not a footstep was heard. Their boots rushed over the mud and stone alike. No a word was uttered. So heavy was the rain one man could scarcely see ten feet ahead with clarity. Their breaths were hot as was their need to follow the figure ahead and not be lost in the weather pouring over their cloaks.
The gap was closing. Their fingers wrapped about the hilts and grips of their blades.
As they bolted out into an enclosed courtyard with no roof, the ground covered in tightly packed stone, their quarry whirled. There was barely a glint of light on the blade that spun out to lash at the faces of those in pursuit; there was no moon shining through the clouds above. Darkness covered the land. Darkness followed them. Only a few lanterns hung around the edge of the courtyard that gave the world any breath of life.
"Festa iet lam, iet líkami, iet sál," Ishiyo invoked, calling on her Talent to bolster her in strength of arm and flesh to fend off her assailants.
In the blink of an eye the Elves began a dance of blades. Dew was split in twain with every swing. The six figures slipped across the courtyard surface trying to out maneuver their prey and she in turn to elude capture. A sharp metal clang sounded nearly every second. There was no drawn out combat for the thrill of murder to be had. There were no illusions; they aimed to kill her and depart as swiftly as they'd come before anyone knew the wiser.
One blade grazed her left arm. Then another her right leg. Leaping over the closing circle, twisting in the air and smacking two blades aside, a third cut deep into her right arm.
Ishiyo clenching her teeth shut, but was forced to draw back. She coiled and shot into the air before her feet found purchase on the roof above. Without wasting a second she began darting over the fixed clay tiles. A treacherous terrain, but not nearly as dangerous as fighting with one arm against six foes. They kept her on the defensive; she needed a way to thin their number if she wanted to fight.
The six joined her above ground, but had fallen back in distance once more.
Disappearing over the edge, coming upon a street, Ishiyo rolled over the slick ground and shot back up to her feet. Her left hand clutched the deep wound on her right arm. Blood poured between her fingers. First she rounded one corner, then the next, zig-zagging her way through the narrow passages between homes.
After several turns she launched into the air and bounded off several crates nearby. Her tracks in the street ended and began. Twice she did this before leaping into the refuge of a stable and lifted herself up into its rafters. If she could not throw them off her trail then she would lose them in darkness; an irony not lost on her as it was the darkness plaguing her now.
It was going to be a long, miserable night.
