Erryn
Posted: Sun Apr 02, 2023 10:33 pm
Erryn
Basics
Name: Erryn Fleight
Race: Cadouri (Cat)
DoB: 96th of Ashan, Arc 699 (24 arcs old)
Languages Spoken: Common (Fluent), Atvian (Broken)
Appearance
Tall for a cadouri, Erryn stands just under 5 ft high. Clearly feline in origin, he keeps his ears clean, his whiskers straight, and his black fur and long tail immaculately groomed at all times. Rarely seen without a smile on his face, the cat has something of a mischievous look about him, but his yellow eyes are bright and kind, save when there is danger afoot.
Personality
Like many Cadouri, Erryn is a terminally cheery sort, quick to make friends no matter where he goes. Easygoing and fun loving, one could be forgiven for thinking the sword on his hip a mere accessory–but that would be a fatal mistake. Having rejected his kind's pacifism, Erryn is deadly serious in combat, killing without hesitation when he deems it necessary.
Erryn seeks to make Idalos a world like Saoire's domain, where no one hurts anyone else, and all people live in harmony. And if such a thing requires the elimination of those who would hurt others... Erryn is more than glad to fight so that others don't have to.
History
Pre-Creation
History
Like all Cadouri, Erryn was born and raised in the peace and safety of Saoire's Domain. As a youth, he was largely unexceptional, enjoying beadcraft, wirework, and games of all kinds. It wasn't until Arc 720, when he and so many of his brethren made their way out into the world, that Erryn found his true calling—the art of combat.
It was all a game to him, at first. Wining, losing, racking up points—Erryn threw himself into training with gusto, taking on any Scalvorian willing to spar with him. But as he played with more and people, so too did he speak to them, and listened to their stories. And the tales they told painted a picture of a world much different from the one he was accustomed to. A world full of cruelty, of treachery, of kill or be killed.
Erryn believed them. But he did not truly understand what it was they meant until his journey to Rharne.
There was another passenger aboard the ship, a young woman around Erryn's age, who he made fast friends with, sparring on the deck of the ship and playing chess by lanternlight. She was quick footed and quick witted, with a breadth of knowledge Erryn could not hope to match. So instant was their rapport that by the third day, Erryn was thinking of asking if she might allow him to join her on her journey.
He did not have the chance to.
On the fifth night, a pirate ship ambushed them through the fog, and Erryn was forced to fight for his life for the very first time. Despite his panic and distress, instinct and training saw him through the worst of it as he fought off every pirate who came for his hide, searching for his friend. It wasn't until the battle was over, and the pirates began retreating that Erryn saw her—retreating with the pirates, a bloodied cutlass in one hand, and a signalling lantern on her hip.
As the ship sailed on, the captain confirmed what Erryn had feared. The pirates should not have been able to ambush them through fog so thick, unless they had a light to guide their way.
She had planned this from the very start.
Despite his very first brush with betrayal, Erryn kept his chin up and his smile bright as he continued on his travels. He kept up his training, though as most Cadouri did, fought only when danger came to him. But now the scales had fallen from his eyes, and he saw clearer the world for what it was. A place where bad people did bad things, with not enough heroes to stop them.
North of Volanta, at the very edge of their territory, sat a small village that Erryn came across on his travels. The people there happily offered him food, company, and a place to stay the night, all in exchange for a handful of chores. He'd only meant to stay a night before heading out—but that night, a shout woke him from his slumber, a demand for the village chief to come and pay tribute. The chief, whose floor Erryn had occupied for the night, bade him to stay out of sight, and hurried out to speak with the newcomers.
In the conversation that followed, it became clear to Erryn that these were bandits, more bandits than he could fight alone, come to extort food and goods from the village. Food and goods that this small community could not afford to lose.
They lost them anyways. The mood the next morning was despairing, and watching the villagers comfort one another, Erryn came to a realization—the kindness and goodness of Saoire's Domain could never be found here, not while the cruel and evil could prey on the innocent. It was not enough to defend himself and those around him—to truly protect them, he would have to cut off the problem at the root.
Gathering able bodied volunteers from this village and its neighbors, Erryn descended on the bandits, and took back all they had stolen—an act that caught the attention of a certain goddess.
She offered him two things—a mark, and a chance to join her legion, to help fight for a world without conflict.
How could Erryn refuse?
It was all a game to him, at first. Wining, losing, racking up points—Erryn threw himself into training with gusto, taking on any Scalvorian willing to spar with him. But as he played with more and people, so too did he speak to them, and listened to their stories. And the tales they told painted a picture of a world much different from the one he was accustomed to. A world full of cruelty, of treachery, of kill or be killed.
Erryn believed them. But he did not truly understand what it was they meant until his journey to Rharne.
There was another passenger aboard the ship, a young woman around Erryn's age, who he made fast friends with, sparring on the deck of the ship and playing chess by lanternlight. She was quick footed and quick witted, with a breadth of knowledge Erryn could not hope to match. So instant was their rapport that by the third day, Erryn was thinking of asking if she might allow him to join her on her journey.
He did not have the chance to.
On the fifth night, a pirate ship ambushed them through the fog, and Erryn was forced to fight for his life for the very first time. Despite his panic and distress, instinct and training saw him through the worst of it as he fought off every pirate who came for his hide, searching for his friend. It wasn't until the battle was over, and the pirates began retreating that Erryn saw her—retreating with the pirates, a bloodied cutlass in one hand, and a signalling lantern on her hip.
As the ship sailed on, the captain confirmed what Erryn had feared. The pirates should not have been able to ambush them through fog so thick, unless they had a light to guide their way.
She had planned this from the very start.
Despite his very first brush with betrayal, Erryn kept his chin up and his smile bright as he continued on his travels. He kept up his training, though as most Cadouri did, fought only when danger came to him. But now the scales had fallen from his eyes, and he saw clearer the world for what it was. A place where bad people did bad things, with not enough heroes to stop them.
North of Volanta, at the very edge of their territory, sat a small village that Erryn came across on his travels. The people there happily offered him food, company, and a place to stay the night, all in exchange for a handful of chores. He'd only meant to stay a night before heading out—but that night, a shout woke him from his slumber, a demand for the village chief to come and pay tribute. The chief, whose floor Erryn had occupied for the night, bade him to stay out of sight, and hurried out to speak with the newcomers.
In the conversation that followed, it became clear to Erryn that these were bandits, more bandits than he could fight alone, come to extort food and goods from the village. Food and goods that this small community could not afford to lose.
They lost them anyways. The mood the next morning was despairing, and watching the villagers comfort one another, Erryn came to a realization—the kindness and goodness of Saoire's Domain could never be found here, not while the cruel and evil could prey on the innocent. It was not enough to defend himself and those around him—to truly protect them, he would have to cut off the problem at the root.
Gathering able bodied volunteers from this village and its neighbors, Erryn descended on the bandits, and took back all they had stolen—an act that caught the attention of a certain goddess.
She offered him two things—a mark, and a chance to join her legion, to help fight for a world without conflict.
How could Erryn refuse?
Mark Story
These people were not fighters, Erryn thought as he looked over the rag tag force he'd assembled. They were hunters and trappers and woodcutters and smiths—but they were also angry, and desperate, and all out of options. The bandits they were hunting had taken everything from their villages—and they all knew it came down to this: die now, or starve later.
In the stories, he thought, the hero would make a speech here, rally his forces, bolster their spirits. But Erryn was no hero, and this wasn't a fairy tale. "Let's go," he said instead.
All together, they made their way into the forest, doing their best to be stealthy, until they reached a clearing, not far from the bandit encampment. "Alright," Erryn said. "Everyone with a ranged weapon, with me—everyone else, hide here, and get ready."
The plan was simple. The hunters of the Silverleaf Village were familiar with these woods, and quickly led Erryn and the others to the bandit camp they'd scouted last night. Specifically, they led them to the small hill that overlooked the encampment. The hill blocked the camp from sight, but camping here had been a mistake. One Erryn would take full advantage of.
Chaos erupted in the bandit camp at the first volley of arrows and slingstones, and the villagers were able to get off another two or three shots each before the bandits were able to regroup. The uphill climb let them get off another volley, before Erryn slung his bow over his back. "Let's go!" he shouted, drawing his sword.
All around him, his companions began to run, not towards the bandits, but back the way they'd came. Taking up the rear, Erryn followed, with a group of angry bandits hot on his heels. In what felt like no time at all, they were bursting back into the clearing. For the villagers, this was safety. For the bandits, it was an ambush.
Surging from their hiding spots, villagers armed with axes and hammers and spears caught the bandits by surprise, shouting in rage as they fought for their lives, their homes, their families. Whirling around, Erryn leaped into the fray, sword flashing and shield bashing as he cut his way through the bandits.
When it was all over, the clearing was soaked through in blood. Of the villagers, of the bandits... but mostly of the bandits. Somehow, they had won.
Leaving the villagers to celebrate their win, to mourn their losses, to ransack the bandit camp and reclaim all that had been stolen, Erryn made his way quickly to a nearby stream to wash the blood from his fur.
"It is rare," a voice said suddenly, "to see one of Saoire's children take such initiative."
Leaping to his hind paws, Erryn reached for his sword, only to freeze at the sheer power of the woman who stood before him now. He did not need to recognize her face to know who she was.
He tried for a smile. "Um. Good.. day, your... Empresship?"
She did not return the smile, but inclined her head. "Erryn Fleight," she said. "Let us talk."
In the stories, he thought, the hero would make a speech here, rally his forces, bolster their spirits. But Erryn was no hero, and this wasn't a fairy tale. "Let's go," he said instead.
All together, they made their way into the forest, doing their best to be stealthy, until they reached a clearing, not far from the bandit encampment. "Alright," Erryn said. "Everyone with a ranged weapon, with me—everyone else, hide here, and get ready."
The plan was simple. The hunters of the Silverleaf Village were familiar with these woods, and quickly led Erryn and the others to the bandit camp they'd scouted last night. Specifically, they led them to the small hill that overlooked the encampment. The hill blocked the camp from sight, but camping here had been a mistake. One Erryn would take full advantage of.
Chaos erupted in the bandit camp at the first volley of arrows and slingstones, and the villagers were able to get off another two or three shots each before the bandits were able to regroup. The uphill climb let them get off another volley, before Erryn slung his bow over his back. "Let's go!" he shouted, drawing his sword.
All around him, his companions began to run, not towards the bandits, but back the way they'd came. Taking up the rear, Erryn followed, with a group of angry bandits hot on his heels. In what felt like no time at all, they were bursting back into the clearing. For the villagers, this was safety. For the bandits, it was an ambush.
Surging from their hiding spots, villagers armed with axes and hammers and spears caught the bandits by surprise, shouting in rage as they fought for their lives, their homes, their families. Whirling around, Erryn leaped into the fray, sword flashing and shield bashing as he cut his way through the bandits.
When it was all over, the clearing was soaked through in blood. Of the villagers, of the bandits... but mostly of the bandits. Somehow, they had won.
Leaving the villagers to celebrate their win, to mourn their losses, to ransack the bandit camp and reclaim all that had been stolen, Erryn made his way quickly to a nearby stream to wash the blood from his fur.
"It is rare," a voice said suddenly, "to see one of Saoire's children take such initiative."
Leaping to his hind paws, Erryn reached for his sword, only to freeze at the sheer power of the woman who stood before him now. He did not need to recognize her face to know who she was.
He tried for a smile. "Um. Good.. day, your... Empresship?"
She did not return the smile, but inclined her head. "Erryn Fleight," she said. "Let us talk."
Post-Creation