About Elyda EvandrosPronounciation of first name: e-lie-duh ----
Physical Appearance:
Age: 25
Personality/Disposition:
Elyda is a focused, responsible individual. She believes in (hard) work and duty before pleasure. She espouses values such as fairness, justice, honour and respect. She is honest and true to her word. Elyda is very loyal: to a cause, the path of good/light and those she is allied with against a common enemy. She can be stubborn when she sets her mind to something; yet she is not inflexible nor arrogant that she puts her own needs before the collective. She possesses a dry humour and quick wit and she is accepting of other races and cultures. She is brave and will stand her ground. === Backstory:
My human parents, Aeliana (mother) and Tarquin (father) Evandros, were heroic knights of the Holy Citadel of Light, Vigil, in Lastwall. They exemplified the crusader ideal and bore the two marks of justice: the Shield-Mark and Sword-Mark, with equal honour, privilege and pride. They venerated the Lady of Valor, Iomedae, and instilled a deep devotion in me as I was growing up. Both were fine swordsman and riders. My parents were middle-aged by the time I was born. They had prayed to Iomedae to grant them a blessed child, as for years they had privately suffered the loss of my mother's unborn babes. When I was conceived and had survived my birth; it was a joyous occasion and a surprising one, for the soft silvery down on my head, which shone like metal, was seen as a portent from the Lady of Valor that I was meant for great things – for I was not entirely human and blessed by divinity. I was presented to the Church upon my birth, who continued to keep a watchful eye on me as I grew. My parents raised me with much love and respect, instilling in me the ideals of fairness, honesty and respect. They fostered a strong work ethic in me – a sense of duty and focus. Wholly committed to the cause, my parents continued to help protect the borders –aiding to hold off the orcs of Belkzen. They were also given the duty of patrolling and keeping a wary eye on the hinterlands of Ustalav for fell creatures prowling the countryside and mercenary bands. When they were focused on their duty, I spent time in the Cathedral of Sancta Iomedaea under the keen eyes of the acolytes. I felt at ease within its magnificent walls and learned to recite the Hymn of Sancta Iomedea:
I was fourteen summers old when my parents decided to heed the call to arms in Mendev against the teeming hordes that infested the Worldwound. Mendev was a fair distance to the north east – travelling through Ustalav and Numeria. My parents signed on to protect a caravan of pilgrims leaving the capital, with a young cavalier by the name of Tulio Arrius, joining us. The journey was dangerous and arduous – especially through Ustalav, yet we finally reached the border between Numeria and Mendev. This is where my life would change so resolutely. In the small hours of the night, we came under attack – a demon had managed to make its way through the wardstones into the lands beyond the border and had slain two of the three pilgrims travelling with us as they slept. My parents and Tulio fought valiantly against the terrifying threat; calling out for me to find a safe place to hide. I could not leave them – so I searched and found a long stick and readied to hit the creature if it advanced toward me or would try to kill them. It turned then and saw me; I’d always remember its eyes - and it quickly set upon me, even as I swung my stick to hurt it. It brought me to the ground and began tearing at my face with its sharp talons-the pain was unbearable and I bite my lip so I would not cry out, yet still, I heard myself screaming in pain. Its nails sunk deep into my young flesh – it seemed to savour the feel, flow, taste of my blood. I could hear my parents and Tulio nearby, attempting to draw the demon to them – to engage it in battle – I do not know how long it was tearing into my flesh when they managed to draw it from me. I heard my mother screaming out to Tulio, to fight alongside my father and she began to work on me with her healing magic. I couldn’t see out of my eyes for all the blood and torn, ragged flesh. She expended all her healing magic as she worked on me; speaking words of love as she set her task to keeping me alive. My wounds had been many and I finally succumbed – falling into a deep unconsciousness. She screamed to Tulio to take me and ride fast – back to Vigil and the Cathedral of Saint Iomedea so I could be saved. Tulio told me later how he did not wish to leave them, yet he swore to my mother that he would ensure I lived. The sole surviving pilgrim had ridden back with us and Tulio told me how he had looked back and seen first my father fall, then the demon and finally my mother. He held me tight before him as he rode fast. It had taken time, for he could not push his horse too fast for long, yet he dutifully made his way back to Vigil and placed me in the care of Second Sword Knight, Aylunna Varvatos, who presided over the worship of the Cathedral. The priests worked their magic on me and prayed to keep me alive. They did what they could, yet I slept in a deep, dreamless stupor for a week before finally waking. Except for the long, scarlet scar beneath my left eye which was a reminder of that fateful night and could not be magically healed (I was told), I felt uncommonly hale and hearty – my body had endured the awfulness. Yet, my heart was sore for the loss of my beloved parents and a righteous anger burned inside me toward demons. I never learned the name of the demon that had attacked us, yet over my years in the Cathedral (they had become my new family), I began to study them – any scriptures, tomes, tales – I would utilise my time with learning (knowledge would be my tool), especially of the demon lord Deskari. In my endeavours, I learned the foul language of the Abyss and its occupants (there was a retired scholar in the city – Goncalo –who had studied demons for most of his life -- and I spent evenings trying to articulate the angry, droning sounds of their twisted speech. It was a chaotic language and jarred my senses, yet I stubbornly persevered. He also spoke of cold iron and how it could make demons vulnerable in a fight. I set to mind that when I could buy my own sword, I would ensure it was made of cold iron. During my time with the sword knights and acolytes of the Church, I began to learn how to fight using the longsword, morningstar and crossbow. Tulio would visit me when his duties permitted and together we would train (he became an elder brother of sorts). I would never be a great knight/warrior like my parents (nor take their path), yet I could hone my body, heart and mind into someone that could protect and stand strong and unwavering against the enemies of my faith and root out any possible threats. With each clang of clashing metal, with each deep-toned tolling of the Cathedral bells marking another day the Crusade endured, my will grew stronger. I learned from tomes and scholars as knowledge was another weapon against evil. The priests filled my mind with Iomedae’s teachings and she helped purify the chaos that could swell inside me especially after terrible dreams filled with demons and death tormented me most nights. I began to believe that the Lady of Valor was showing me my divine purpose. I had unfinished business that could not be fulfilled, sequestered in Vigil, among the familiar of the Cathedral. Ten years had passed since the demon attack, yet, it felt like yesterday. Something inside me was being drawn toward Mendev – and the fight against the demons of the Worldwound. The red scar on my face had begun to ache as if it were sign I was starting out on the right path. Preparing myself for the journey ahead, and receiving the Church’s blessing, I joined a pilgrim caravan headed to Numeria and from there I’ll make my way across the border into Mendev and toward Kenabres.
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