Rhyvanna of House Caelaes

[Andromeda]

Name: Rhyvanna of House Caelaes

Alias: Rhy (Rhymes with tie)

Allegiance: The Varden

Occupation: Assassin and occasional spy

Race: Elf

Age: 84

Appearance:

Though obvious she was once a stunning creature, her years in the Empire's prison have turned her beauty into a mere shadow of what it used to be. Swathed in torn and used clothing that hangs off of her underweight frame, she is a pitiful figure. Her face, once creamy and smooth, is pale and gaunt with large bags under her once sparkling green eyes. If one saw her back and stomach, they would see countless overlapping scars from numerous beatings during her years in Galbatorix’s prison. Her walk is a hunched, shuffling gait that should only be seen in cripples and old women, and her body is always tense and trembling as if ready to run. Should she walk like she once did, her lean frame would easily reach the six foot marker, and one would be able to tell from just a glance that she was a master in several physical arts from her balanced stride, and sharp gaze.

Before her trip to Galbatorix’s prison, a journey that would most likely kill anyone that could not claim to be of elven blood, she was considered very beautiful indeed. Rhy had some of the usual features her race boasted including prominent cheekbones that drew attention to her eyes which were oval like a cat's and of the brightest green; the smooth and creamy skin, that would easily label her a court lady amongst humans; and a slim figure used to swaying and bending in ways humans couldn’t even dream of. Also like some of her kin, she had long hair that fell to her mid-back in a straight black curtain. She could often be found dressed to perform murder, with her sword Moraedi, or Swiftedge adorning her right hip in easy reach of her left hand. Moraedi was and is an unusual blade, longer than the normal one handed sword, with a slim double sided blade sprouting from a hilt wound with fine leather. Hidden by her clothes, the remainder of her arsenal went unnoticed by the casual eye. Covered by boot and shirt, two matching knives of fine blue-tinted steel provided back up in the unlikely event of Moraedi leaving her grip. Tucked into hidden pockets on the inside of her black cloak, poison darts and several throwing knives act as her range weapons along with the small crossbow hanging from her unoccupied hip.

When the assignment she’d been given was not as straight forward, her apparel could have been anything; whatever it took to get in close to complete her task. Most often her targets were rising soldiers, or nobles of Imperial background that posed a threat in the future to the Varden’s plans. For those missions she’d pull out her court lady garmets, usually composed of a fine silk with a low bust line to attract. No matter the outfit, she always made room to stash her weapons somewhere should the time arise when it was time to abandon her part in her target’s life, and return with a less conspicuous angle under the cover of night.

Aside from her arsenal of weapons, she wore a long black cloak of a shade that blended perfectly with the shadows, offering some camouflage against prying eyes while on a job. Underneath, she was often garbed in a loose tunic and breeches in preference to a dress, ebony usually, but also in other rich colors such as scarlet, royal blue, and violet with softer breeches in a white or buff color. Rhy’s long black hair, the envy of most humans she met was usually tied back in a high pony tail or plaited in a single braid down her back to keep it out of her way.

Personality:

Unfortunately, her long years in the dank cells of Galbatorix’s prison did not only affect her appearance, they also altered her personality. Before she slipped up and wandered into the trap that would inevitably change her life, she was exceptional at her job. Not one for jokes, her mind was always on the job ahead of her and taking out her target. Her trust was only given to a select few and that more than anything, even her skill at camouflage or with her weapons was what saved her life time and time again when friends of her victims came searching, bent on revenge. She was a master at disguise and trickery, able to alter her appearance and personality to fit any role; which served her particularly well when she needed to go undercover to befriend her foe, or get in close. Not many besides the few that could claim the almost unheard of status of friendship with her knew how she actually looked or acted, for she was constantly changing to fit the different roles necessary to her lifestyle.

Despite what most people may think, as an assassin, Rye didn’t enjoy killing the people she was told to, and certainly didn’t do it mindlessly, or without much contemplation. She believed – and still does – in the Varden’s cause with all of her heart. She wished to be the greatest asset she could upon joining, and her talent just happened to be in the art of disguise, weaponry, and stealth. The added bonus that she was able to dispose of those that caused pain to the undeserving people of Alagaesia under Galbatorix’s disturbed state only served to cement her choice to become an assassin for the Varden. She never harbored any pity for those who chose to serve a monster such as the one on Alagaesia’s throne, and though she took no pleasure in the act of killing itself, she was satisfied that her actions were helping to deteriorate Galbatorix’s control over the Empire.

After her narrow escape from the dirty cell that had been her living quarters for many years she is what most people consider crazy. Her once calm and confident persona is reduced to one of the common street rat, cowering in suspicion of any person passing by. She is wary of anyone and anything, and half the time doesn’t even know where she is. The best way to describe her mind after her time in the Empire’s power is frayed. Buried deep is her former self, or hopefully anyways; on the outside she is wild and unpredictable, barely squeezing by on what remains of her hunting skills and knowledge of nature’s plants. Despite this, one course of action has remained securely cemented into her mind; return to the Varden.

History:

Born to Tael and Livaya of House Caelaes almost a century ago, Rhyvanna took her first breath under the shadowed canopies of Du Weldenvarden in the city of Sílthrim. The small elven town with its unrivaled view of the Ardwen Lake served as the perfect place for her mother and father to settle down. Rhy often spent many a day on the sandy shores of the sparkling water, building fantastic castles and reed pipes with her brother Raeben who was her senior by three minutes, as he often liked to remind her throughout their childhood. They were closer than average siblings, and earned a reputation for being inseparable even as they raced through their brief childhood and into their young adult years. Shortly after her twentieth birthday Rhy was using her newly acquired independence to travel everywhere in the immense forest surrounding all the elven cities, though she never went farther than a day or two’s travels, not wanting to be away from her twin even such a short time. However, as she rose into her thirties, she grew restless and the unknown forest began to tease her sense of adventure, or lack thereof. After trying numerous times to pry her twin away from the knowledge he had discovered in books since their twentieth birthdays, she went enthusiastically, but somewhat reluctantly deeper into the trees. Wasting no time in the parts she had spent the last decade exploring, she left her withering reluctance and her brother behind to see all there was to see.

Rhy spent the next two decades of her immortality roving the depths of Du Weldenvarden, trying to unlock some of its mysteries and living solely off of what she knew and learned about surviving in the wilderness. She met countless elves in the various cities she visited, absorbing knowledge from all of them like earth that had never felt the rain. During one of her visits to the capitol city of Ellesméra, she discovered the art of fighting. Without a thought of denying her thirst to learn the art of combat, Rhy searched the white city for a master to teach her. After a few days of looking, her efforts were rewarded as her new instructor, Sael of House Khai agreed to assist her in her quest to know how to fight whether it be by hand, sword, magic, bow, or whatever she might find that could serve as a weapon. To her delight and surprise, she excelled in the dance of engagement taking quickly to whatever Sael threw at her. A few years after her arrival in Ellesméra though she could feel the restlessness settle in again and the need to be moving aching in her bones.

After a quick trip home to visit her parents, brother, and gather supplies, Rhy decided to leave the safe haven of Du Weldenvarden for the more exciting world of man. After several decades of travelling Alagaesia, and uncovering every secret she could about various lands and their inhabitants, Rhyvanna turned to the Varden. Her ventures had shown her the ruthless and cruel nature of the Empire’s reining king, Galbatorix, which she had only heard about from others in Sílthrim and Ellesméra. Determined to dethrone such an evil ruler, she became what best suited her various talents; an assassin.

After a year in training she went out on her first mission, successfully taking out her target with nothing more than a scratch to show for it. Over the course of a decade, she grew in stature and skill until she was regarded as one of the best of her trade, and as a result was sent on a mission deemed nearly impossible; to assassinate a new dragon rider before he and his dragon were large enough to fly to battle. As expected, she failed. Uncovered the night her plan would have been put into effect, she was forced to flee the city with a majority of the Empire’s cavalry on the chase. After a few days on the run, she was surrounded, captured, and tossed in one of Urû'baen’s high security cells where she spent three years being tortured physically and mentally for any information she knew on the Varden, and more importantly the location of Ellesméra.

Like any sane person confined to a lightless cell of stone, and tortured often, she eventually went mad. Those charged to get information from her believed it a technique to hide information from them, for only meaningless babble and broken thoughts could be read from her afterwards, so they tossed her back into her cell and left her to rot, checking occasionally to see if she’d regained her wits.

Slowly over the course of a few months she grasped onto sanity just long enough to come up with a plan of escape. Tagged as crazy, no guards were wasted on her cell, so freedom was much easier to achieve than she dreamed, and one carefully planned attempt later she found herself racing down the streets of the Empire’s capitol under cover of night and a new moon. Lucky for her, it was over a week later when someone actually bothered to supply her with food and water that her absence was noticed. By then she was long gone on her way to the Varden, trail lost to Mother Nature.

Other:
(0=none, 10=master)

Magic: 4
Hand-to-Hand Combat: 7
Sword/Other Blades: 8
Darts/Bow and Arrow/Other Projectiles: 7
Disguise/Acting: 8

Role Playing Example:

See Perilous Ventures

[Angmor]

Accepted!