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A LEGEND OF ZELDA ROLEPLAY
Welcome to ZRP! We are an non-canon RP site with an original tale taking place within the
lore of the Zelda Franchise. While the events of this site are entirely non-canon, we take advantage of the canons of other
games to explain its story fully. As such, we are located within the CANON TIMELINE. Do you like what you see? If so, feel free
to register and join our story! If you have any questions, you can join our discord, located in our important links!
11/12/21 GUESS WHO'S BACK! Thats right, and we are cooking up a good ol reset for everyone. Please be patient as things will be a little empty as we archive. Pop into discord if you have questions.
s she held her throbbing brow, Sappho walked down the red hallway with uncertain footing, her parasol down to the ground as a prop to help her. While they continued along this new space, she listened to Vanna’s opinions on tales and smiled at her acceptance.
‘Come, then, let me tell you my tale. It will help pass the time as we walk and forget about our weary feet. This story begins past the happy childhood that I had, instead starting during my adulthood spent as a priestess. From my early years, I had been blessed with a powerful gift that I believed to be sent by the Goddesses which had spurred on my fervent praise of them and my matter of profession. For me, carrying out such things was my duty, my purpose. In consequence, I was bestowed the honour of chaplainship over the Royal chapel with the passing of the elderly woman who previously oversaw it. As the chaplain of the Castle, I was closer than any other to the divine, for a young Zelda oft prayed there in the absence of her mother; a girl that I soon took a strong liking to and took care of as if she were my daughter.’
As she reminisced on those past events, she came back to the present upon noticing a strange object in the distance whose colour was misplaced amongst the uniform red that lined the hallway. Quickening her pace, within a short while she was within range to clearly see that it was a door; oak-carved with no extra embellishments, almost as if a rough-hewn slab of wood had been forcibly inserted into the space. A thick brass knob was set right into the centre, its placing offplaced as if to highlight the strange script that was written around it in a circular motion.
‘What a welcome sight to see Ancient Hylian. Now, let me translate this little nuisance of ours: A twist unknown, for naught remains still. A seal in all four of the compass. With this undone, a path shall open. How kind of them to write a riddle for us, I do miss the irksome nature of man to block the path with wordplay and puzzles; nowadays we have resorted to speaking clearly and stating our intentions in a direct fashion, so terribly boring. Perhaps you would like to solve this one, madam? I would be intrigued to learn of your theory, I have my own but let us see if they are one and the same.
This land of Hyrule is full of living myths, of stories that can be traced to centuries in the past while still keeping their relevance in the present. But sadly, many are relegated to the fantasies of fairy tales, not given the full recognition that they deserve; by treating these histories as fiction and not fact, they are effectively undermining the truths that underlay them all. I myself am have experienced that, my entire story had been reduced to a mere fairy tale as if it is some fictitious construct, told to children at bedtimes in order to frighten a sense of morals into them. The fairy tale of ‘the Woman with the Golden Hair’, a black and white view of my story…’
Upon receiving Vanna's name and request for hers, Sappho reciprocated in turn, curtsying elegantly as she replied, ‘Ah, forgive me, I had not realised that I missed my name. My name is Sappho, a humble traveller of these wild times. And these are truly wild times we live in now, on a scale that I have not witnessed in all of my years. In fact, they were one of the many triggers that caused me to search out this dungeon and venture into its depths once again - but that is another story that I need not bore you with.’
‘Perhaps a little walk in this dungeon would interest you more? I can guarantee that it holds quite some interesting sights to see.’ After glancing back to Vanna with a knowing smile, she struck the side of the wall with the tip of her parasol in a theatrical manner as she looked straight forwards - at a blank wall. However, with a great rumbling that seemed to resound within the heads of both Sappho and Vanna, the surfaces within the room distorted as if viewed through a warped mirror and merged themselves together, the walls folding in on themselves. Just as quickly as they began to enclose the two within the room, the room shot forwards and stretched into a long corridor carpeted in red that seemed to have no end. Blinking her eyes in disorientation, Sappho leant on her parasol to prevent herself from losing footing, ‘I do not remember the transition to have been this rough when I visited it - then again it has been quite some time… Anyway, should we proceed, madam?’
s Vanna was drawn to the ancient structure, her fingers stroking the rough textures, Sappho observed with the thought that even a woman such as her still held a degree of culture. She smiled, perhaps her initial outlook of Vanna was unjustified, her seductive front covering an interest further than what Sappho considered to be base.
‘It is quite a wonder to behold, is it not? A temple such as this should surely have been ravaged by the passage of time, but it has not. It has instead been maintained for centuries by the wardens who protect these Woods, any unwanted visitors being staved off by the enchantments that permeate the entire area. Such dedication has produced this effect, but yet it means that no one has been able to truly appreciate this dedication till now…’
Having passed by Vanna and her musings, Sappho proceeded to the steps and looked down into the murky gloom, Sappho felt a strange feeling shoot through her temple. Caught off-guard by this sensation, her mind broke off from its previous train of thought. Breathing in deeply to focus her mind, as if readying herself for the sharp plunge into a deep pool, her racing thoughts slowly reformed into a coherent track. Lifting a hand to her head, she soothed her temple, her brows brought low in contemplation,
‘What was that feeling there,’ She thought to herself, the fleeting sensation catching her attention, ‘Perhaps it was some form of a remembrance, of a deja vu?’ She was hindered from pursuing this any further by Vanna’s voice, her train of thought immediately switching track back to the present situation. ‘This temple holds many reasons as to why one should be happy. Follow the path that the temple creates and it will show you sights beyond any that a mortal would normally see.’
Without even a short wait for response, Sappho continued down the steps, the darkness slowly enveloping her figure until only her bright hair glew bright in the gloom. Eventually, the steps reached an end, as a small enclosed space emerged into view, lit up by a single stream of light coming from an opening in the ceiling. Gesturing towards the cracked walls sustaining a verdant population of ivy and the crushed skulls from which plants grew, Sappho turned to Vanna once more.
‘Let me formally introduce you to this place: Welcome to the Forest Temple.’
he Twili emphasised a single word, ‘desire’, that invited an old memory back into Sappho’s mind, one that she could not quite recall in its entirety, but certainly lingered there. Unable to completely understand it, Sappho pondered on its meaning,
‘Indulging in one’s desires? What phrase could be more foreign to me…’ She turned towards at the Twili with an gaze that forced her to look back, ‘My precious lives have given me much opportunity to do such a thing, but I never truly endorsed it. Many men, and women, have invited me to do so, but I spurned their advances in safe conscience. I find that nothing good can come from a relationship founded in carnal desires for, as the progressive species that we are, we have developed a bond deeper than that. A bond called ‘love’. Love is what defines as an individual, our unique bonds formed from an unblinking excess of it, and from a deficiency in it, without which we cannot appreciate our relationships. As such, I find the idea of ‘indulging in one’s desires’ to be a rather base one that does not benefit either party in the relationship, for only with love can our desires blossom into something much more special.’
Keeping her gaze steady, not even losing it slightly, Sappho continued as if in challenge, ‘I accept that you may have differing views than me but, I assure you, a young woman such as yourself who has not experienced the true atrocities of life cannot begin to understand my reasoning for this; it would take centuries more before you could come close to knowing. Life has many twists and turns, and only by living again and again will one get used to the route they follow. It is the same reason I can here: to determine whether the route I have travelled on has doubled back upon itself to allow me to realise a mistake I made, to allow me to understand how it happened.’
Smiling with a gentle warmth, as a mother would to her dear daughter, Sappho held Vanna’s gaze for a moment longer before turning back to the inscriptions that adorned the entrance of the temple. Translating them, she gathered that the entrance would open only when a certain permission was granted by the Fairy Queen, which Sappho knew she could bypass due to the absence of Her Ladyship. ‘Stones, move thyself from the long rest that thou hast partaken. Reveal the path that blocks our way and present us with that which we seek.’ The digits that made up the inscription glew with a blue light before various blocks of stone rotated themselves around to force each other from the doorway and recede back into the entranceway.
‘You wish to know what I am hiding?’ Sappho’s smile receded once more into a steely expression, ‘The answer lies within these walls.’
great shudder ran along the tree that Sappho had perched, rather slouched, on as the body of the prince was forced into the hard bark, accompanied by a distinct crack and an unholy laughter from the mouth of the priestess. Looking down, Sappho had to put down the bile rising in her throat as she saw the terrible sight of her broken lord, and averted her gaze in order to allow her to focus her attention on dealing with the problem at hand. Closing her eyes, she attempted to remove any worries that she held about him, all the sounds of pain and agony from below fading away to nothing within her head, and instead a single word assumed the entirety of her mind.
‘BURN.’
All of her thoughts centred on this one word, feeding it ever more power as she associated all of her experience with it. Her rage at the Gods above who had failed to save this land, and now had turned against them, it turned into a flame. Her regrets towards her friends who had passed away without ever hearing her apologies, it turned into a flame. Her love for both her previous families and her own country, it turned into a flame.
‘BURN.’
These flames intertwined with one another within her mind as her conflicting emotions each combined with one another, the clashes of these opposing ideas stoking the ever-growing fire that burned within her mind. It took all that she had to contain them within herself, and an even greater power to bend them to her will as she united all of her thoughts against a single figure. Her eyes opened to reveal blood red flames and she spoke with a voice of pure vehemence, the negative emotions of six centuries being released in it,
‘O great fires of my soul, I call upon my entire being to purge this current sin that lies in front of me. May these flames cauterise the wound of hypocrisy that this fool of the Goddesses has presented to me, for no divine power can judge it as otherwise. Therefore, I punish you in this way: you shall burn.’
In response, the dying flames that covered the ground below reignited with new vigour, twisting together to form a construct that represented all of Sappho’s negative emotion; that of a snake. A snake whose slit eyes lit up with a blood red flame and whose body leapt towards the figure of the priestess, producing an updraft that spurred it on and stoked the fires. Gazing upon her creation, Sappho let out a weak laugh before her eyes closed once again, unable to sustain her stamina for any longer, her body slumping down once again upon her high branch.
eeing the success of her magic, Sappho let out an exhausted smile as she leant against the dull bark of a tall-trucked tree, much of her stamina having been lost. Her concerns were quickly raised once more as she spied both Artemis and Hollow fall as they were released from the vines that entangled their limbs, producing a dull sound that emphasised the severity of their injuries. Making her way over to the side of Artemis, she knelt down and offered him aid in the form of a soothing paste,
‘Milord, I hope you do not mind my proximity, but I am afraid that if I do not help you at this moment then the pain may become too much to bear.’ Having carefully applied the paste onto the back of Artemis’ neck, she gently massaged it into the skin further. Sure that it was done thoroughly enough, she glanced across to the direction that Hollow had been, but all she saw was a raging fire that blocked her vision. Initially worried for her safety, Sappho was unsure whether to find out about her, but clear movements from within the smoke on the other side indicated otherwise, encouraging Sappho to believe in Hollow’s own wisdom and prevailing endurance.
Turning back to Artemis, she addressed their current situation, ‘I do believe, milord, that we must take the high ground to avoid the increasing threats on the forest floor. The pain in your neck should have decreased enough for you to move without feeling like burning steel was pierced through, but you should ensure that you do not participate in any strenuous activities for the while. Is what would say if not faced with a situation like this. Unfortunately, we have no room to allow for such luxuries as waiting.’ As if to illustrate her point, the smell of rotting vegetation intensified.
‘It seems that not only did my fire extend past the point of control, but that servant of the Goddesses has released some strange digestive juices from within her wooden belly. We have no time to waste now.’ Struggling to her feet, Sappho made her way to the tallest tree she could find and scaled its trunk, slumping down on a high branch.
t hearing the lady in the vines speak as if victory had already been claimed by her, Sappho’s serene expression showed the hint of mirth, a strange thing for the circumstances. ‘Fool of the Goddesses’, your presence itself has proven how this Isle is worth saving; having gathered together so many persons of differing views to fight a common cause, they have showed that they do not possess such stubbornness as to fight among themselves in a situation such as this.’ Sensing the strange-looking pair’s displeasure at her fountain of elaborate words and lack of action, Sappho bowed her head in an apologetic motion and changed her line of speech,
‘Masked guardian, I shall trust in your wisdom, for I am but an infant when compared to your time guarding these woods. I can bestow upon both you and milord a makeshift barrier for your cause, but it may only take a couple strong blows from a foe.’ With a wave of her hands, a pulse of light shot forth from the palm of her hand and washed over the forms of both Hollow, Blight and Artemis imbuing them with a golden sheen. The very second after she had cast that, a thorny vine lashed out at her threatening to take her out, but, thankfully, Artemis reacted with reflexes the speed of light, propelling her out of harm’s way. Using the momentum, Sappho leapt backwards a few paces while retaining the state of her ongoing spell,
‘I must thank you for the help, milord, I owe you my undying gratitude. But I would appreciate it if you used this opportunity to fend off those servants, as they may interfere with my spell. I am sure you understand that magic is a delicate art, and I cannot allow my concentration to falter.’ Turning her attention back towards the continuation of her long spell, she made a simple comment, ‘What a convenience that this enemy is formed out of vegetation, is their weakness not common knowledge?’ Suddenly, a manic smile ripped her face in two as her hair lit up with a fiery glow, the entirety of her surroundings lighting up along with it, ‘Let’s burn this bitch!’
ith the first indications of company, Sappho ceased her bout of ‘laughter’ and focused on trying to create a presentable look; straightening up her beige robes and ensuring her hair was maintained in its pristine condition. Sure that she had discarded any remnants of the person she had been mere moments ago, she turned towards this unknown person who had joined her,
‘Madam, I had not expected any visitors to grace my presence so deep here in the Woods, least of all a Twili. Such a place as this requires one to purposefully lose themselves, quite a trouble for someone who had the intent on finding something within its bounds. As such, I hope you forgive my poor behaviour earlier, I thought I was alone and could indulge in my unadulterated joy at successfully finding this ancient structure.’
Turning away from this mystery of a woman, she observed the symbols engraved on the surface of the doors and traced a delicate finger down the grooves. As she did so, she answered the woman’s deservedly appropriate question, her eyes glazing over with a wistful look, ‘It was directed at many, Madam. From the forest sprites who govern the premises, to the great Deku tree itself, I wish to herald my return here to all of them for this time I shall fulfill my promise from those many centuries ago.’
Glancing back at the woman, she sighed heavily and made a pointed remark, ‘Do you expect to seduce a woman such as I? Honeyed words and sensual gestures are not enough for that, I am afraid. Living for as long as I have has caused my heart to shut off any advances of that kind, both to prevent any future mistakes and to repress the memories of the past… But there is no need to dwell in that, what of you? Why have you made your way here, were you swayed by the rumours of riches within this dungeon, or simply became lost and arrived here?
n a moonlit clearing, a young woman groomed her golden hair while waiting for the kettle lying on the forest floor beside her to boil. Smiling serenely, she took the brew and poured it into a small ceramic cup to sip at the soothing liquid, bringing warmth to the whole of her body. She had been resting for a long part of the day, her body now recovered from her long venture into the Woods, and was ready to continue her journey eastwards. But, despite her graceful exterior and display of pleasure, she was harbouring a great burning flame of agony and pain within her heart after her experience within the walls of the Forest Temple that she was desperately trying to extinguish. With every minute alone, she was being ripped apart by this weight, and could find no way to lift it.
While indulging in her sorrows, she noticed a great many of her surroundings darken in colour, the solemn trees and their gnarly roots discolouring with an unnatural speed. Curious as to the source, Sappho finished her cup and packed away her belongings into the satchel around her waist and made her way towards the origin of the magical traces she could detect. Walking along a trail of ashen grey vegetation, the sounds of a voice reached her ears, their voice filled with an evident disbelief, ‘What... is this the work of Majora...?’ Alarmed at the mention of that hated goddess, Sappho quickened her pace and advanced towards the source of that voice to halt whatever plan that irrritating trickster had hatched this time.
But as she grew closer towards the source of the magical trace, she began to feel an odd feeling, as if a familiarity, that seemed to be distinct from the residual energy that she had felt when encountering the acolytes, but rather it was more pure as if it were a liquid gold. She processed this information rather halfheartedly, focusing her efforts on reaching the clearing ahead, until she broke out into the open space and the full extent of the situation immediately became clear. She looked upon the visage of that lady enveloped in vines, and observed her drain the colour out a nearby tree, clearly showing her to be the cause of the phenomena that had spread throughout the forest. She possessed an unnatural beauty that may have entranced any common man or woman, but all Sappho saw was a deep ugliness, as her suspicions were confirmed by the analysis of the magical residues that permeated the air, hanging thick as if with the intent to suffocate those gathered.
‘That is not at all a follower of Majora… Those wretched Goddesses truly have a twisted sense of humour, refusing my prayers, yet sending an envoy to gift their destruction upon these lands. I may have been relying on a personal reply from you for so long, but I think this is answer enough for both my prayers and those of all other’s.’ In one swift motion, Sappho withdrew her hairpin from her long golden locks as they began to shine with a holy golden light, splaying out around her head like a halo. ‘It seems that you wish to make an enemy out of all of the Isle. I’ll gladly help you fulfil that!’
How ironic that yoUr Mistresses gifted me with The key to your downfall
t the mention of a ‘magical sword’, Sappho’s eyes narrowed while looking at the contents of the teapot, the green hues of the leaves seeping out into the clear water, her interest clearly piqued by this knight’s story. ‘In all of my time serving the Goddesses at the castle,’ Sappho pondered in his words, ‘There was only one tale I know that matches that. Of course, every child in the kingdom, nay, the Isle knows of its existence as the weapon of the Hero of Legend… But how does he know of its location? That is a secret passed down by the Royal Family to each new ruler, only those who work in the palace could try to discover its resting place. Yet, he knows?’ Even as she thought on that, almost as if a direct answer to her question, he uttered a single phrase that changed her perspective of this knight. ‘Sir knight, ‘a family tradition’, you say that this journey is? What dreadful blood runs through your veins, if you must be descended Hylia’s chosen. I suppose you must be searching for the Sword of Evil’s Bane that is told of in legend, the one that supposedly lifted the veil of Twilight, sir knight? You are too late. There is no such way that you could ever take possession of it. Your instincts are correct, remain with that rusty blade, for a new vessel for the Hero’s Spirit has been chosen and taken the sword that you seek. A sad thing, but your family tradition ends here.’
uch confidence from a child! I can respect that you understand your own strength, but I will warn you that you underestimate that of your foe’s and rely too much on the non-existent charity of those you assume to be allies. That Zora usurper knows no word such as ‘trust’ or ‘friend’, he has long since discarded those ideas. Once you make one single step in the wrong direction, purposefully or accidental,’ To articulate her point, she drew a pale finger across her throat, ‘You will never make another move again. If you deem that to be a necessary risk to take, than I will stop you no further, for I have no more warnings to give you.’
Sappho listened as Circe talked of the Heroes of Hyrule, noting her evident disdain of them, ‘That faction of the princess’ has many worthy souls, this young man most definitely among them. He showed the selflessness needed to rise beyond his limits, willing to sacrifice his own life for the people. I admire that courage, and believe it should be celebrated, and so I was encouraged to intervene and extend his life, even if it were by only a few more decades. Who knows what this man could do if given the time,’ Sappho glanced at the young man now sleeping from exhaustion, and smiled. Not a smile hiding some dark secret, but one filled with hope, ‘But it would certainly benefit this whole kingdom if he stayed alive.’
She was, however, cut short from her momentary peace of mind by the voice of a stranger nearing their encampment, delivering a warning to the three gathered in the middle of the woods. Turning round to the source of the voice, Sappho spied a rugged man dressed in the garb of a knight, with the mannerisms typical of one who followed the chivalrous code, and laughed at his suggestion that he might protect them from harm. ‘Sir knight, how do you propose you could help us? It is not as if we are but common folk, rather, it seems you have stumble across quite the collection of individuals here. Now sit down, sir knight, and relax. Nothing, I assure you, will be able to harm us here.’ As if answering her, a thin shimmering barrier extended from her hair and came to surround their encampment, a faint glow of gold tinting the scenery outside.
After guiding the knight to a seat, Sappho produced a porcelain teapot from within her satchel and placed it down on a nearby tree stump, before rummaging through her bag to retrieve some small leaves inside of a velvet pouch. ‘Ah, tea leaves from the Faron region. I’ve always found them to have this calming scent that just puts the mind at peace, I do hope it is to your liking.’ Having struck a match to heat the water, Sappho turned back to the knight. ‘So, sir knight, what do you wish to achieve in coming here, so deep in the woods?’
he howling winds scraped against the dying trees; dancing among the dishevelled leaves as they struggled to reach their resting place. The floor, damp with morning dew, was pierced with rotting fingers of wood, while the foul odour of decomposition hung in the air. Ravens circled overhead, their death-cries the only sound other than the constant winds, paying homage to their brethren who lay beneath the leaves. Yet still, despite the gloomy nature of this forest, a woman had entered without even a second thought, and seemed not even the slightest bit afraid. In fact, far from cowering in fear, she seemed to be in high spirits, whistling a merry tune as she weaved between the bark-covered digits driven into the earth.
And she certainly had reason to be happy, for her long-lived objective was close to being fulfilled, and there was no obstacle to stop her from achieving it. And so, as the forest seemed to thin out and present a clearing, Sappho’s peaceful expression broke out into a grin - not one of happiness but one filled with an intense malicious intent - which gradually dissolved into unfettered laughter that resounded within the woods. For ahead of her lay the Forest Temple, a great structure once lost to humans, but now Sappho had managed to access it. She laughed and laughed until her sides hurt, before running straight towards the great entrance, and unleashing a loud knock upon the door,
Inside each of us, there is the seed of both good and evil. It's a constant struggle as to which one will win. And one cannot exist without the other.
TITLE/NICKNAME: The Fairy King of Labrynna/The Glade King/His Graciousness/Lord over the Nighttimes AGE: Unknown RACE: Fairy GENDER: Male SEXUALITY: Pansexual KINGDOM: The Glades of Labrynna TRIFORCE: Power THEME:
PERSONALITY
~Melancholic Works~ Finvarra’s mind refuses to forget the many mistakes of his past and the tragedies that have broken him, so much so that it has forced him to break away from society as a whole. He yearns for his mind to be wiped clean so he could forget everything that happened. So he could be rid of the sadness that plagues him. So he can no longer feel as if the entire world was sapped of its warmth. So he could feel something more than fear and coldness.
~Benevolent Leader~ Despite his solitary nature, Finvarra has a soft side that prioritises his citizens, his self-imposed isolation being enforced due to his belief that he would only bring a weak rule to the people. Any decision he makes is always done with the well-being of his citizens in mind, and strives to better their lives even with the limited power he has given himself.
~Calculative Fortress~ For all of his shortcomings in personality, Finvarra is actually one of the most calculated and rational people on this world, not just the Isles; knowing very well what he is doing and with whom he is dealing. Giving out too much information is nothing this great Fairy would do, only limiting it to the exact amount necessary. Seeing through him on the other hand is rather difficult, since his ability at covering up his own weak spots is another outstanding thing.
LIKES: - Twilifolk magic people who have sufficient intellect to be able to challenge him board games and other strategic modes pomegranates and blood oranges
DISLIKES: - cogs in the works those who harm his brethren complete responsibility absolute control rich, black coffee
MOTIVATIONS: - to expand into and reclaim his old territories in Labrynna that he lost to war to find out more of the old gods and then seek a power that could allow him to rise above them to study the ancient magics of the Twilifolk and attain a mastery over them in time to live in peace with all of his subjects, not having to worry for any rising threat
FEARS: - that his kingdom may break down while he is in charge of it, so he is constantly in fear of having sole responsibility for it that he may not be able to surpass the bar set by the old gods, and that he will not be able to become the first of his notion of the ‘new gods’ that he may descend into madness due to his unique condition and become consumed by his research
HISTORY
In ages past, legends told of a verdant forest on the top of a high mountain where a perpetual fountain lay, forever watched over by a Fairy whose name was known in Ancient Hylian as ‘Samil Esau’, or ‘The White Light’. He ruled over the Fae kin who roamed the lands, using his heaven-given powers to both protect his subjects and help those who came to ask his aid. And he helped many.
“Once upon a time, a shepherd herding sheep at the feet of the mountains where Samil Esau lay. He had wandered into his domain while looking for a missing lamb, and stumbled upon the domain of the Fae kin by mistake. Sensing his presence, Samil Esau awoke from his slumber and came to greet the shepherd, who was now quite afraid, and said to him, ‘Do not be afraid, mortal. None wish you harm in this place, rather I shall grant you any wish that troubles your mind.’ The shepherd was still worried for his missing lamb and so asked for its return. Samil Esau advised him to close his eyes, which he did, and when he next opened them, he was outside his small cottage along with all of his sheep - even the one that had been missing.”
Word of a Fairy with the power to fulfil the wishes of people spread among the countryside, inspiring many a traveller to go in search of his legendary residence, with few achieving success in this endeavour. Those who did, however, brought back stories of the wondrous sights that lay within his domain and, of course, tales of their fulfilled desires.
“A particular adventurer known for his daring feats managed to locate the mountain where Samil Esau lay. He was surprised that he had succeeded in place of the many who had failed and was unsure what he should do. Upon seeing him, Samil Esau greeted him and said to him, ‘Do not be afraid, mortal. None wish you harm in this place, rather I shall grant you any wish that troubles your mind.’ The adventurer was sceptical of this claim and, his mind tainted by greed, asked for wealth enough to buy a castle. Samil Esau advised him to close his eyes, which he did, and when he next opened them, he was in the fields by town and next to him lay a sack filled with all kinds of riches.’
As time passed, the greed within mortals increased, inciting them to seek the power of the Fairy for their own selfish purposes. All manner of powerful persons approached him for their plans of expansion and means of invasion, with every single wish of theirs being granted by the Fairy - for it was his duty to do so.
“A monarch of the a kingdom with the intent to use the power told of in legends for his personal advancement led an expeditionary force to the mountain where Samil Esau lay. So eager to obtain the power he dreamed of, the man shouted aloud that he wanted his wish to be granted. Having heard his words, he was greeted Samil Esau who said to, ‘Do not be afraid, mortal. None wish you harm in this place, rather I shall grant you any wish that troubles your mind.’ Consumed by his visions of power, the monarch asked for the power to crush the kingdom of his rival. Samil Esau advised him to close his eyes, which he did, and when he next opened them, he was standing on the top of a hill overlooking the border between his kingdom and his rival - a great crater had been carved into the earth, a sight that led to his rival rleinqhishing his lands out of fear.”
APPEARANCE
Finvarra is characterised by various limbs of his being artificial golden prosthetics that seem to pulsate like a living creature is attempting to escape from within. Both his left arm and right leg have been changed into this state, providing a complete contrast to the unnatural pallor of his face. The only non-monochromatic colour in his face is his eyes, whose light blue irises seem to look straight past all obstructions, as his hair is a dark black. A thick golden ‘wireframe’ crown surrounds the left side of his face, mostly obscuring his left eye.
He wears clothes typical of some high-bearing aristocrat, with a long navy blue jacket being the standard for him. He wears no sort of shirt underneath, his pale skin showing instead, but, for modesty’s sake, he does wear a pair of tight white pants under a pair of high black leather boots.
When he feels the need to demonstrate a more grandiose side to him, or emphasise his nature as a fairy, he is able to display the wings he naturally has as a fairy. However, unlike many fairies, he has has three pairs of thin white wings that extend from out of his back. Stranger still, one wing, the bottom left one, is missing and a strange dark substance bubbles in place of where that wing would usually be.
Rank: Common Type: Axe Handling: Two-handed, but used with only one hand. Description: A massive axe with a golden bladed head a metre and a half tall, along with a shaft and handle that has a strange blue tint. The ornate decorations on the head resemble a blooming flower being reached for by a smooth hand.
Healing: Fairies possess the ability to heal wounds over an amount of time. The more posts spent healing, the more of the wound is healing, depending on the severity of it. Fairies can also give up their lives to resurrect a fallen ally.
Flight: All fairies have the ability to fly.
Weak to Darkness: While Fairies can use their small form to light up the shadows, they take more damage from dark magic attacks.
MAGIC TYPE: Fire NAME: Azure Flames RANK: Common CLASS: Offensive DURATION/COOLDOWN: Instantaneous/One Post DESCRIPTION: Finvarra imbues his axe, or anything other weapon held in his hands, with an unholy fire of an unnatural blue colour.
MAGIC TYPE: Arcane NAME: Lesser Corruption RANK: Common CLASS: Defensive DURATION/COOLDOWN: Instantaneous/One Post DESCRIPTION: By detaching his artificial left arm, Finvarra releases the Twilight captured within himself to create a barrier one metre around himself.
TRAITS
Diplomacy: Social Etiquette: Intimidation: Persuasion: Tactics/Leadership: History/Religion: Geography: Arcana: Weapon Proficiency (Axes and Rapiers): Hand to Hand: Endurance: Stealth: Acrobatics: Horse Riding: Charisma: Adaptability: Flying: Tyranny:
PLAYER ALIAS: Hellson FACE CLAIM: Kubira/Xenoblade Chronicles 2 REFERENCE: Umm... ALTS: Alt of Sappho