Rings of Honor

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Username:

Iridal

Groups:

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Character:

Iridal 'al Torr

Character Race:

Mortal

Location:

Twilight Isle

Character Portrait:

Character Age:

25

Place of Origin:

Rhydin

Profession:

Mercenary/Witch

Appearance:

Wandering the trails and paths at dusk with an all too apparent weight on her soul. Iridal is tall and slender as her mother once was standing at about 5'10. Trailing behind her, an almost silent talbert, long wisps mimicking the color of the darkest raven feathers, silently mimicking the unruly soul that lay within. Her features are sharp and intricate, reminiscent of both strong bloodlines she carries within her. Wide eyes so compelling as they look upon all things with bright hues of molten quicksilver. Her gaze was alluring as it was silently warning. Many a man captivated within their depths.

Iridal is a loner despite that fact that she is the twin sister to a brother named Zarael whom had become estranged very long ago. She had come to the decision to leave her family and her past behind her to try to pave a way for herself in this vast realm and had chosen. A place to which she had chosen to roam on her own.

Irda and Seraphan...Demons and Vampires.. Her history was a mesh of heartache and loss.

Some would say "Iridal, you are running...", I can only shake my head in disagreement for I am not running..no, never running... I am merely trying to survive.

She had spent far too much time wandering into and out of the various alleyways and stale smelling taverns of the west side of this town. It had been close to a month and still she had yet to find even one kindred soul. No matter where she wandered her footfalls always led her to the same places that mirrored a life long ago lost. From the streets to the docks and onto the beach.

The air blowing from the sea can be almost exhilarating as the serene sound of the waves crashing onto the shore offer a gentle calming to her erratic thoughts. Saddened that the evening tide has become one of her sole companions and truest of confidants alongside the silver hues of the Moons light above. Most night’s she sat and collected her thoughts within a battered worn book she carried. Perhaps some day there may be something of value found written there. For now it was only a collection of wandering thoughts, phrases that lingered within her mind that she knew not the meanings of.

She held tight to the part of herself that wanted nothing more then to lower the inner guards within her that prevented her from giving in at last to that almost chaotic magick that sought so desperately to be free. It had happened but once in her life and the results were devastating. She knew to give in would be to ultimately lose all that she was within the all consuming chaos of that ancient magick. There was no distinction found. Her aunt had tried countless times to help her control it but it simply could not be done and so instead they worked and at last found a means of containing it but there was never a day that passed in which she was not reminded it was there, waiting. So much blood had been spilt by her own hands, her eyes witnessing death most only found in nightmares.

Skills:

She is adapt with most any dagger. She worked for a time taking random jobs as a mercenary. She is skilled with the art of magic and spends much of her time lost in the wood trying to harness the powers that churn deep within her.

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