Difference between revisions of "Lady Marrus"

Revision as of 16:45, 11 March 2015

wip character bio for "Lady Marrus" Written of course, by LM :D

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	Strength			Weapon
	Durability			Armor
	Speed			Reflexes
	Resistance			Stamina
	Dexterity			Agility
	Combat			Regen

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	Energy			Psionics
	Telepathy			Willpower
	Sorcery			Tech.
	Intel.			Knowledge
	Charisma			Bravery
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The Titan Of Embers

Powers

The Adventure So Far

ORIGIN - Chapter 1 : A Weapon For Peace

The age of war had been long. Neither faction seemed poised to break, neither army seeming to run out of souls to commit to their end by blade, or spear, or axe.

Many ages had passed since the men of Earth wrote tales and bent a knee in worship to the gods of the mountain. Much had changed. Zeus still held power and sway over Olympus, but Prometheus, now a god, had no designs to live beneath him. He would raise his armies and he would have his war. The lives lost would not be easily counted, and the ferocity of the battles not soon forgotten. In the push to footing, often it was the innocent that would suffer most. Olympus was plunged headlong into despair.

There was one man of the Earthen realm with which the gods still offered trade. A grand weapon smith who had spent the majority of his days crafting the finest in a collection of armaments to be wielded by gods. He would craft one weapon for any god who would ask, and in return, he asked only that they bless his forge that he would one day craft his ultimate weapon.

It was at the end of this long and bloody age of strife that the warring gods came to an agreement. A deal had been struck to bring long desired piece to Olympus. The gods would empower Braun to forge the weapon that would be his legacy, and it would be entrusted to the armory of Prometheus. In return, Prometheus had to be fore-sworn to ever wield said weapon.

The weapon smith, given ore from the heart of mount Olympus herself, set to his work. For days he perfected the ore, and for days more he worked anvil and hammer. A month passed before he finished his work, and shouted to the gods to claim their prize.

Braun stood before the gods, his greatest work concealed by a sheet of crimson burlap. He removed the sheet and revealed his grand weapon. Before the gods lay the form of a female infant, forged in Olympian ore with eyes of Olympian gold.

Both gods looked to Braun in disbelief. He spoke respectfully, "The greatest weapon is not a blade, or spear, or axe. All of these fail at the same point... the warrior who wields them. Your warrior and weapon are now the same.", and with this Zeus was pleased. Prometheus, instead of a blade, would inherit a daughter.

The two gods joined their magics with the blessings of the forge and the will of the weapon smith. With a deafening boom and a flash of light... a life was born. As was custom, the smith named his work.

So was born Mary Of Embers... the Olympian translation of which, was Marrus.

ORIGIN - Chapter 2 : To Hunt A Wolf

She chuckled to herself at the thought of her dance instructor having to choose between covering for her absence, or facing the temper of her father after he found out his daughter had defied him yet again.

Mary was not much interested in dancing and table manners, as it seemed everyone thought she ought to be. She instead preferred to sneak out to the Titans barracks and watch the training matches of the new recruits. She would often sit and listen to the tales of grand adventure and battles and war told over wine and roasted meats. With every story she heard, she wanted more and more for them to be her own. To command a table with a bard of grand battle and beasts slain. She wanted to be an adventurer, not a Lady of the house Prometheus.

Today, it seemed, that fate had been teasing her. As she sat in the rafters with a keen ear for stories, she overheard a armor smith speak. "Tis a Nif wolf that stalks the Warden's Forrest, you best hear me well, boy", he spoke to a young Titan trainee. "Foul, and twice a man in size... more so than that in strength. I will say this once, you want that pelt, then be prepared to pay for it with your life", he waved a hot poker around wildly as he spoke. The young warrior scoffed in retort, "and any who wore that pelt across their shoulders would be herald as a grand adventurer, and a keen warrior without question. How hard could it be to dispatch one wolf?". The old smith just shook his head.

That was all it took to set her on her way. Though Mary was still a child, she was sure that her spirit and will would make all of the difference. She would slay the wolf, and then it would be known throughout Olympus... Mary Of Embers was a true warrior!

She stole a dagger from the training racks. Given her size, it was all but a sword in her hands. She looked for a suitable shield, but they were all too large for her to wield. She found a small steel targe to serve instead, and with a few adjustments, it seemed to suit her just fine. There was no hope of finding a battle dress to fit her child's frame, so she decided her dancing gown would have to do. Nothing could stop the grin that spread from ear to ear... all she could think now, was that this was to be her first grand adventure!

Slipping past the gate was easy enough. All that it took was a burlap cloak and a speedy pace, and she fit right in with the children of the traders and bards. It had been an age since she had been to the Warden's Forest, and only then it was to travel through it, but she was confident that she would find it true enough.

She hitched rides off the back of commuter carriages to gain ground faster, and the forest was a common through road for travel between kingdoms. As she bound across the landscape, she would day dream of the bards she would sing in the barracks, adorn in her fiercely won pelt, a thimble of wine splashing about as she waved her arms in exaggeration. Only a few days from now, this would be the life she lived... for how difficult could it be to dispatch one wolf?

She hopped from the carriage when they reached the sign post reading 'Warden's Forest". As she looked into the foggy abyss of trees, a lump formed in her throat and for the first time, she had the idea form in her mind that this could be truly dangerous. She swallowed hard, gripped her dagger and tightened the strap on her makeshift shield. There could be no glory without courage.

She began to trudge into the forest, the bottom of her dancing gown now stained by dirt. She was glad for the burlap cloak. It seemed to keep the worst of the dew off of her. As she walked on, her sense of adventure began to sooth her fears... perhaps there was no wolf at all or it was scared off by the coming of this now proud battle maiden. Her stride became more confident, her chest puffed up as she surveyed the area.

The voice spoke through a growl, and caught her off guard, "This surely is some form of jest?". Mary snapped around drawing her dagger and raising her shield. Yellow eyes met hers and to her shock, there on a mossy stump her size 6 times over, sat perched a great black Nif wolf.

Mary stood frozen with a lump in her throat, and what felt like a stone in the pit of her stomach. The wolf's eyes were fixed on her, with a glint of confusion plastered across it's face. The young girl mustered up the best of her courage.

"I... I am Mary... um... of Embers", she stammered as she tried to speak, "I have... well... I am a great warrior, you see", she paused trying to find her words, "Well, you are a Nif wolf... and, as a warrior... I am here to... slay you... as I am a warrior". Her tone soft, betraying her uncertainty and fear. The wolf did not move for a moment, stunned by the words of the child no more than 4 heads tall.

The wolf lowered his head and leaned in toward her, and anger was on his foul breath as he spoke, "Run along, foolish girl, and be glad you are too small for a proper supper". She considered taking up the wolf on his offer, but then she saw what was just past the log. Leaned up against a rock and bleeding from a nasty gash to the ribs, slowly trying to push his way clear of his attacker with the heels of his boots was the Titan trainee she had heard speaking of the wolf earlier in the barracks. To flee would be to leave him to die.

Mary felt something begin to rise in her, a heat starting to burn behind her eyes. The wolf's face was only an arms length away, and she could feel his breath upon her. Her eyes narrowed, and in a quick and unexpected thrust she tore through the wolf's left eye.

With a terrible howl, the Wolf met the child with a swift back hand, caught by her shield. The force sent her through the air and into the trunk of a tree. If it was fear or nerves, she did not know, but after the impact she sprung quickly to her feet. The wolf flailed around wildly in great pain from the wound dealt. Mary saw this as her chance to get to the young warrior. Perhaps she could get him to his feet and armed.

She bound past the wolf, narrowly dodging mighty swings purely by chance and made her way to the young man. She spoke with a shaky voice, "I am Mary... can you walk?", she grasped at his good side to help him up. He did not speak, but his eyes widened, and Mary knew she was out of time. She heard the ripping sound of her dancing gown before she felt the sting of the wolf's clawed strike. On instinct, she turn to strike him with her shield, only to find it struck from her hand. She watched it tumble into the forest for only a second before her gaze was interrupted by a clawed hand dragging across her face. The force of the impact drove her head first into the ground, the cold earth pressed into her face.

The sting was sharp. She had never been injured before aside from minor scrapes and bruises, but now, this wolf had surely torn her open. She rose to her hands and knees awkwardly and was surprised to find the wolf's back up against a tree, looking at her with uncertainty. She pushed herself to stand on her feet, still holding her dagger in a loose grip at her side. With her free hand she touched her face, and was amazed to find it was still there. When she took her hand away, it was covered in a shining silver liquid. She swallowed hard.

"What manner of creature are you!", the wolf exclaimed with an uneasy tone. She did not understand how, but she was not badly hurt... the wolf had managed to only graze her, and though her wounds hurt, they did not fell her. The grip on her dagger tightened as the wolf settled back into an aggressive position. Mary readied her dagger and stood between the wolf and the warrior. A few tears of anger and pain ran down her face, and she spit a mouthful of silver blood on the ground. She spoke with a growl matching that of the wolf, "You will not have him!"

She did not flinch as the wolf pounced onto her chest. The weight of the beast drove her back into the wet ground. A large clawed hand again tore across her her face. The sting rang in her head, and behind it swelled a great anger. With a yell, she drove her dagger into the ankle of the beast, then the calf pulling the blade down the length of the muscle, leaving it embedded in it's leg. The wolf howled in pain and fled back into the cover of the woods.

Mary pushed her way back up to her feet, surprised again that she had managed to survive the confrontation. She looked back at the warrior leaned against the tree. He looked at her with a slack jaw, and expression of confusion. "Young woman... are you... alright?", he managed to regain his footing and stand with a limp. Mary looked down, and noticed that she was covered in the metallic blood. She spoke with a weak and confused voice, "I am not certain... I should be dead, should I not?", she looked to him, still in shock.

The two started to make their way back toward the main through road, Mary serving as a crutch to the young man. He would occasionally try to look at her wounds, but she would turn her face away with each attempt, unsure of what he was seeing. They found their way to stream, and decided to stop to rest. Mary helped set the young man down, then moved to the river to fetch water. The current was slow moving, and she was able at last to see what state she was in. Her reflection showed large shallow gashes across her face, but instead of crimson blood and gore, there was a blood and flesh of silver under her skin. "By the gods... what has happened to me?", she spoke under her breath.

She returned with water to the warrior. "You are in training to become a Titan, yes?", she asked in an attempt to avoid conversing about her appearance. the young man spoke in a defeated tone, "Aye. I was to be the Titan of the house of Dionysus... I have a feeling that I may not be welcomed into their order once they discover I was rescued by a little girl", he flashed her a thankful smile. She smirked and replied, "It should work in your favor that Mary Of Embers is a true warrior and grand adventurer", she scoffed and spoke sarcastically, disappointed in her performance against the wolf.

The young man stared at her for a moment before speaking, "You... you are the daughter of Prometheus?", he looked worried. "We must see you get home safely". She also looked concerned. Sustaining such injuries was never part of her plan, and would make it impossible to have her adventure go undiscovered by her father. The two took to the trail again, and before night fall, made their way to the through road. The young warrior offered Mary his cloak to hide her appearance, and she took it up gladly.

The ride to city was long, and Mary's wounds would ache with each stone they rolled over. Her mind raced, confused about the events of the day and the nature of her wounds. How would she explain this to her father. They arrived at long last to the city gates. The Young warrior was greeted by a soldier wearing the colours of the house of Dionysus. "Hail, good Titan... and young miss.", he turned his attention to Mary, "My master would have words with you before you venture home, child". She swallowed hard, then nodded in compliance.

Mary was lead to a great banquette hall, and at the head of the table sat a large man in a fine robe. She recognized him from his visits to her father's castle, it was the god Dionysus. She bowed to greet him, still hidden by the borrowed cloak. "I... you wished to see me", she managed to eek out.

A large, firm hand landed on her shoulder, and her eyes rose to meet it's owner. The god looked into her face with a warm smile, "It seems I owe you a debt of gratitude... you have saved the life of my Titan", his hand moved her face by the chin, inspecting her wounds, "at great sacrifice you yourself it would seem". She lowered her face away from his gaze. "His voice was stern and booming, "I am not one to let a debt go unpaid, dear child". He took up a jug of wine, dipped his thumb in and ran it down her forehead. Mary looked at him as though he were crazed, "Thank... you?".

The god let out a hearty laugh, and poured her a small glass of wine, "OH, child... drink, drink!", he handed her the beverage. She hesitated for a moment, but then figured, since she was no doubt going to be killed by her father or at the very least locked away for all time, why should she not at least taste wine. She drank it back in a gulp, and cringed at the taste. "That is awful!", she blurted out be fore thinking, then looked to the man with a bashful smile, "I mean... thank you". He smiled back, then pointed her attention to a mirror on the wall. Mary dropped her glass, and it shattered on the floor.

Before her eyes, her wounds began to mend and in a few moments, they had all but vanished. "... how?", she spoke softly. "My debt is paid, is how. Carry my blessing with you, and with a toast of wine to battles waged, live to fight another day", He chuckled to himself. "See the seamstress on the way out, she shall fit you in something more suitable", and she was lead out of the hall.

Upon returning home, she was showing no sign of the days adventure. She had gotten away with it... she would not be found out. Still, her mind hung heavy with questions, and she began to suspect that her father had been keeping secrets from her. As she stood in the hall, she was startled out of distraction by a familiar voice, "Your dance lesson was a success, I would gather, by the time of your late arrival?", her fathers hands rested on her shoulders, and she panicked slightly. She spoke quickly, perhaps too quickly... "Oh yes father... it was fantastic... all of the twirling and the like... very much fun", she smiled awkwardly up at him and he laughed. "To bed with you my dear... tomorrow comes before you know it", and with that he made his way to his chambers.

She sighed in relief, she had pulled it off. She entered her chambers and put on her night gown. She inspected her face and back, amazed that there was no sign of injury. A wide smile crossed her face. She turned to jump in her bed and froze. Waiting for her, folded on top of her blanket was the pelt of a great Nif wolf, her makeshift shield and her dagger.