Glass
06-03-11, 03:15 AM
'ight, well, I think that I am doing this correctly. I guess we will just have to see, eh? Anyways, I apologize a head of time for the History portion of this character's profile. I tend to neglect them (something I am trying to improve upon) and they don't always turn out as smooth as I would like them to.
Name: Ardaen Razir
Race: Human
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Height/Weight: 5’4” / 115lbs.-125lbs. Unarmored
Hair Color/Eye Color: Brown / Bronze
Physical Description: Smoke coiled around Ardaen’s right-hand gauntlet, hungrily slithering across the ornate metalwork.
“Poor choice of words, Sire,” she murmured, the faint, brassy ring of her voice just loud enough to draw attention to the fact that she had spoken.
“What did you say?” the King’s Man growled, his hand falling to the smooth opal sphere which adorned the end of his longsword.
The torchlight glimmered across the ivory hem of Ardaen’s hood as she raised her chin slightly, a haunting smile stretching between the delicate fangs of her mask, which ran down the length of her cheeks.
“Poor choice of words, Sire,” the Forge reiterated, her metallic voice rumbling across the course stone walls of the nearby buildings.
“Impudent child,” the man hissed. He took a threatening step forward, his bulky stature and statuesque height dwarfing the lithe silhouette of the woman before him. “You would be wise to leave well enough alone and not place yourself between my blade and its prey.”
Beneath the white metal of her mask, Ardaen arched her brow skeptically, the smoldering, bronze rings of her veiled eyes shining dimly through the meshwork.
“You are not the first to say those words to me, and I doubt you will be the last,” she crooned mockingly.
Before the King’s Man could so much as breathe the concept of a rebuttal, Ardaen was upon him, leaving a swirling flurry of wispy smoke in her wake. Her left hand pressed firmly against his, the chain of the gauntlet’s glove biting into his flesh as she prevented him from drawing his weapon in response to her sudden advance, while simultaneously striking the soldier in the throat with her right.
The brutish man staggered backwards, groping at his neck as he struggled to draw in oxygen, a look of horror filling his moisture-brimmed eyes as the realization set in that he could not.
Ardaen stared blankly at the King’s Man, watching as he steadily suffocated.
Despite the stories, killing had never brought the adolescent woman any joy. However, never once in her tenure as a mercenary did she feel remorse for those lives she had taken.
A warm breeze roiled through the vacant street as the Forge turned about, putting her back toward the dying man. Briefly, she turned her hidden gaze skyward, peering at the moonlit sky with a buried spell of longing. Her soft footsteps lingered in the humid air as she departed, the subtle rustling of her loose brown vestments blending seamlessly into the ambient noise of the city.
Disposition: Often, Ardaen is thought to be a great many things. Most whisper of the Forge, a woman whose temper is rivaled only by the hottest of flames. However, the truth is far simpler. Ardaen is a calm and emotionally cautious woman, always mindful of herself, but she is far from apathetic (in most situations). Little is really known about her otherwise, having never been one for companionship of any kind (or so it is said).
History: Ardaen Razir was born into a culture of craftsmanship and performance. Between her mother’s dedication to the creation of metal marvels, and her father’s love for the stage, the to-be Forge was rarely left with a dull moment in her youth. However, at the age of nine, when Ardaen came of age, she was empowered with a Magick ancient among her people. The Forge, believed to be the source of all Artisan Magick, rested within her young body, and its power was at her fingertips.
Feared, and yet sought after, Ardaen’s life became increasingly difficult. While her father fought to protect her from the myriad of Artisans who desired the position of tutor to the young Forge, her mother refused to acknowledge her, let alone what she had become.
Only six months after the Forge had chosen her as its vassal, Ardaen left, slipping from her home mere hours before daylight. At first, traveling alone was difficult. However, the young Forge had the fortune of being spared too many hardships, and eventually reconnected with her father, who had been in search of her for over a year at the time.
For two years she and her father traveled together, performing along the way. At the age of twelve, Ardaen’s father was called home, and try as he may, he could not convince her to return with him.
What happened between then and now is somewhat of a mystery. Now known by the alias Mask, Ardaen is a sought after sellsword, with a reputation of keeping things simple and being efficient.
Skills:
Martial Lore: Ardaen has studied a variety of hand-to-hand combat styles and employs a mesh of these learned skills, creating a martial technique that has proven to be malleable in most situations.
Acrobatic Technique: Growing up, Ardaen had the fortune of an unusual pairing between her parents. While her mother spent hours teaching her the way of the forge, her father taught her what it meant to be a performer, most prominent among these arts being his unparalleled skill as an acrobat. The adolescent is a capable gymnast, and uses her talents in a number of ways otherwise thought of as unorthodox for her training.
Child of Fire and Fame: To this day, Ardaen continues to study the intricacies of working metal, hoping that the knowledge gained will better aid her in one day fully grasping her potential as the Forge. Additionally, she maintains her daily regimen of her father’s teachings of the numerous performance arts, practicing such things as balancing on wires, swinging around horizontal poles, and tumbling.
Good With a Knife: Since her retreat from her home, Ardaen has taken to learning the use of the dagger, and has become reasonably skilled with the small weapon over the past eight years.
Abilities:
The Forge: Coming of age for Ardaen meant one thing: discovering her true potential. However, unlike others of her kind, Ardaen came into possession of the most ancient of powers among her people. The Forge is both feared and sought after, thought to be a heart of all Artisan Magick. Beyond the Forge’s supremacy over the nature of all metals, a command which for the past eight years Ardaen has struggled to perfect, the adolescent also possesses a passive resistance to all forms of heat, fire being paramount among them. In addition to this constant resilience to incredibly high temperatures, Ardaen is imbued with impressive eyesight, providing her with the ability to see in even the darkest caverns. However, this gift comes at a price. She is unable to withstand light brighter than that of the glowing embers in a blacksmith’s forge, and even such a (at times) dim glow causes her unbearable headaches.
For Ardaen, the Forge’s power over metal only reaches so far. For instance, she is only able to actively use the ability when not wearing her mask, in which case she can call to the metal within her sphere of influence and shape it to her will. This, however, requires time, more or less depending on the hardness of the metal. In addition, Ardaen cannot manipulate the nature of any metal beyond the norm, merely reshape it accordingly.
*For the sake of clarity, Ardaen is capable of manipulating metal within a full sixty foot radius of where she stands. However, this requires that she not be wearing her mask. Additionally, the adolescent can comfortably command metals with hardness equal to or less than that of iron, while steel takes more time and difficulty, and upward to plynt, which requires far more focus. Lastly, while Ardaen has the toned musculature of a tempered blacksmith (and the endurance to go alongside of it), working the power of the Forge acts similarly on her body as if she were actually using a physical one. While some tasks are simpler than others, all will eventually wear her down, though how swiftly depends upon the quantity of the material and its hardness (reshaping a iron fork into a knife might take little to no real effort for Ardaen, while blunting the edge of a steel longsword mid swing may cause her muscles to ache in a manner akin to swinging a blacksmith’s hammer for several hours).
Equipment:
Steel Gauntlets: This pair of seemingly ornamental gauntlets is without a doubt Ardaen’s second most important possession. Crafted of carefully worked steel, and inlayed with a intricate vine motif, they act as both a means of protection and a medium of inflicting more damage when used in concert with the mercenary’s preferred method of fighting.
Iron Dagger (x4): Purchased because of their particularly well balanced craftsmanship, Ardaen carries no less and no more than four of these simple weapons on her person at all times, using them for melee when needed, though preferring to bring them to bear for their intended use as, at times, much needed projectiles.
Mask: Ardaen’s white mask, worked into its shape from a thin layer of tin, is the Forge’s most prized possession, designed with a loose knit mesh to both hide her unusual eyes and shade them from even the dimmest of lights.
Clothing: The clothing adorned by Ardaen is weaved from heavy, tightly woven wool, designed for the purpose of withstanding some of the hottest flames. This includes not only the plain brown pants and shirt the adolescent woman wears, but her deep green hood with its ivory hem and the vines of silver reaching from it toward the back.
Miscellaneous: The occasional set of pouches weigh against the leather of her two belts; while every now and then a small cylinder can be seen as well, containing any manner of documents within. Additionally, Ardaen is sometimes found carrying a rope of average craftsmanship – usually as needed.
Name: Ardaen Razir
Race: Human
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Height/Weight: 5’4” / 115lbs.-125lbs. Unarmored
Hair Color/Eye Color: Brown / Bronze
Physical Description: Smoke coiled around Ardaen’s right-hand gauntlet, hungrily slithering across the ornate metalwork.
“Poor choice of words, Sire,” she murmured, the faint, brassy ring of her voice just loud enough to draw attention to the fact that she had spoken.
“What did you say?” the King’s Man growled, his hand falling to the smooth opal sphere which adorned the end of his longsword.
The torchlight glimmered across the ivory hem of Ardaen’s hood as she raised her chin slightly, a haunting smile stretching between the delicate fangs of her mask, which ran down the length of her cheeks.
“Poor choice of words, Sire,” the Forge reiterated, her metallic voice rumbling across the course stone walls of the nearby buildings.
“Impudent child,” the man hissed. He took a threatening step forward, his bulky stature and statuesque height dwarfing the lithe silhouette of the woman before him. “You would be wise to leave well enough alone and not place yourself between my blade and its prey.”
Beneath the white metal of her mask, Ardaen arched her brow skeptically, the smoldering, bronze rings of her veiled eyes shining dimly through the meshwork.
“You are not the first to say those words to me, and I doubt you will be the last,” she crooned mockingly.
Before the King’s Man could so much as breathe the concept of a rebuttal, Ardaen was upon him, leaving a swirling flurry of wispy smoke in her wake. Her left hand pressed firmly against his, the chain of the gauntlet’s glove biting into his flesh as she prevented him from drawing his weapon in response to her sudden advance, while simultaneously striking the soldier in the throat with her right.
The brutish man staggered backwards, groping at his neck as he struggled to draw in oxygen, a look of horror filling his moisture-brimmed eyes as the realization set in that he could not.
Ardaen stared blankly at the King’s Man, watching as he steadily suffocated.
Despite the stories, killing had never brought the adolescent woman any joy. However, never once in her tenure as a mercenary did she feel remorse for those lives she had taken.
A warm breeze roiled through the vacant street as the Forge turned about, putting her back toward the dying man. Briefly, she turned her hidden gaze skyward, peering at the moonlit sky with a buried spell of longing. Her soft footsteps lingered in the humid air as she departed, the subtle rustling of her loose brown vestments blending seamlessly into the ambient noise of the city.
Disposition: Often, Ardaen is thought to be a great many things. Most whisper of the Forge, a woman whose temper is rivaled only by the hottest of flames. However, the truth is far simpler. Ardaen is a calm and emotionally cautious woman, always mindful of herself, but she is far from apathetic (in most situations). Little is really known about her otherwise, having never been one for companionship of any kind (or so it is said).
History: Ardaen Razir was born into a culture of craftsmanship and performance. Between her mother’s dedication to the creation of metal marvels, and her father’s love for the stage, the to-be Forge was rarely left with a dull moment in her youth. However, at the age of nine, when Ardaen came of age, she was empowered with a Magick ancient among her people. The Forge, believed to be the source of all Artisan Magick, rested within her young body, and its power was at her fingertips.
Feared, and yet sought after, Ardaen’s life became increasingly difficult. While her father fought to protect her from the myriad of Artisans who desired the position of tutor to the young Forge, her mother refused to acknowledge her, let alone what she had become.
Only six months after the Forge had chosen her as its vassal, Ardaen left, slipping from her home mere hours before daylight. At first, traveling alone was difficult. However, the young Forge had the fortune of being spared too many hardships, and eventually reconnected with her father, who had been in search of her for over a year at the time.
For two years she and her father traveled together, performing along the way. At the age of twelve, Ardaen’s father was called home, and try as he may, he could not convince her to return with him.
What happened between then and now is somewhat of a mystery. Now known by the alias Mask, Ardaen is a sought after sellsword, with a reputation of keeping things simple and being efficient.
Skills:
Martial Lore: Ardaen has studied a variety of hand-to-hand combat styles and employs a mesh of these learned skills, creating a martial technique that has proven to be malleable in most situations.
Acrobatic Technique: Growing up, Ardaen had the fortune of an unusual pairing between her parents. While her mother spent hours teaching her the way of the forge, her father taught her what it meant to be a performer, most prominent among these arts being his unparalleled skill as an acrobat. The adolescent is a capable gymnast, and uses her talents in a number of ways otherwise thought of as unorthodox for her training.
Child of Fire and Fame: To this day, Ardaen continues to study the intricacies of working metal, hoping that the knowledge gained will better aid her in one day fully grasping her potential as the Forge. Additionally, she maintains her daily regimen of her father’s teachings of the numerous performance arts, practicing such things as balancing on wires, swinging around horizontal poles, and tumbling.
Good With a Knife: Since her retreat from her home, Ardaen has taken to learning the use of the dagger, and has become reasonably skilled with the small weapon over the past eight years.
Abilities:
The Forge: Coming of age for Ardaen meant one thing: discovering her true potential. However, unlike others of her kind, Ardaen came into possession of the most ancient of powers among her people. The Forge is both feared and sought after, thought to be a heart of all Artisan Magick. Beyond the Forge’s supremacy over the nature of all metals, a command which for the past eight years Ardaen has struggled to perfect, the adolescent also possesses a passive resistance to all forms of heat, fire being paramount among them. In addition to this constant resilience to incredibly high temperatures, Ardaen is imbued with impressive eyesight, providing her with the ability to see in even the darkest caverns. However, this gift comes at a price. She is unable to withstand light brighter than that of the glowing embers in a blacksmith’s forge, and even such a (at times) dim glow causes her unbearable headaches.
For Ardaen, the Forge’s power over metal only reaches so far. For instance, she is only able to actively use the ability when not wearing her mask, in which case she can call to the metal within her sphere of influence and shape it to her will. This, however, requires time, more or less depending on the hardness of the metal. In addition, Ardaen cannot manipulate the nature of any metal beyond the norm, merely reshape it accordingly.
*For the sake of clarity, Ardaen is capable of manipulating metal within a full sixty foot radius of where she stands. However, this requires that she not be wearing her mask. Additionally, the adolescent can comfortably command metals with hardness equal to or less than that of iron, while steel takes more time and difficulty, and upward to plynt, which requires far more focus. Lastly, while Ardaen has the toned musculature of a tempered blacksmith (and the endurance to go alongside of it), working the power of the Forge acts similarly on her body as if she were actually using a physical one. While some tasks are simpler than others, all will eventually wear her down, though how swiftly depends upon the quantity of the material and its hardness (reshaping a iron fork into a knife might take little to no real effort for Ardaen, while blunting the edge of a steel longsword mid swing may cause her muscles to ache in a manner akin to swinging a blacksmith’s hammer for several hours).
Equipment:
Steel Gauntlets: This pair of seemingly ornamental gauntlets is without a doubt Ardaen’s second most important possession. Crafted of carefully worked steel, and inlayed with a intricate vine motif, they act as both a means of protection and a medium of inflicting more damage when used in concert with the mercenary’s preferred method of fighting.
Iron Dagger (x4): Purchased because of their particularly well balanced craftsmanship, Ardaen carries no less and no more than four of these simple weapons on her person at all times, using them for melee when needed, though preferring to bring them to bear for their intended use as, at times, much needed projectiles.
Mask: Ardaen’s white mask, worked into its shape from a thin layer of tin, is the Forge’s most prized possession, designed with a loose knit mesh to both hide her unusual eyes and shade them from even the dimmest of lights.
Clothing: The clothing adorned by Ardaen is weaved from heavy, tightly woven wool, designed for the purpose of withstanding some of the hottest flames. This includes not only the plain brown pants and shirt the adolescent woman wears, but her deep green hood with its ivory hem and the vines of silver reaching from it toward the back.
Miscellaneous: The occasional set of pouches weigh against the leather of her two belts; while every now and then a small cylinder can be seen as well, containing any manner of documents within. Additionally, Ardaen is sometimes found carrying a rope of average craftsmanship – usually as needed.