Lyrien the Grand Mistress of Artistry, Drillmistress of Battle

Skill List

Role

Chapter 7

-Magic is an existential threat to all the world.
-This is proven through ancient research of Rifts, Monoliths, Cataclysm of Ages, and fall of
countless civilizations whose ruins still dot our landscape.

-There are those who use magic for darkness. Those who are indifferent to its price and
dangers, and good souls who unwittingly use it.
-You are a Chosen of the light, trained against magic. Double down on all those of
dark sorcery who threaten our world. They are the worse of both things, darkness and magic.
-Stand up to those indifferent and selfish in the use of magic, not blessed in the light.
-Oppose those in the light who use magic, but do not seek their death. A crossbow can do
evil things, but you do not kill a child given a crossbow. Remember, that while other
villagers may not agree... a world without magic won't exist from a stack of mage heads
alone. We must win the minds of the populace who have grown comfortable in magic's use.
-If one of the light forces a fight, they have set aside the light to murder you. Only
in this way or the chaos of war is such blood unavoidable. While we are not maran, it is
still tragic and undesirable. Seek to talk the misguided back to virtue, but defend
yourself as the Elven house wars of old, and ancient duels, if there is no other way.

-Just as who of the light or balance may do evil things. So may the evil villagers do good
when working towards a world without magic. But remember, they are NOT good!
-Only assist those of darkness in the nearby defenses of the village or when directly
assaulting an enemy cabal. That cabal will usually be the Scions, Empire, or Orcs which
serves the purpose of creating a better world devoid of magic and darkness.
-Do not aid the villagers, especially those of darkness, in their own battles against
those of the light, even if hunting mages of the light. This is their part of the war and
they are capable.
-Even when they defend, care should be taken not to harm those of the light and be only
defensive and passive in nature. If the light seeks to kill the giant, who is not of
darkness, they have brought war on the village, knowing your requirement to stand up
against them. Push them back, and defend the giant and destructor if they push aside the light
for the pursuit of blood.

-We can not war our way alone to a world without magic. A world without magic will be
acquired not only through force, but through the victory of heart and mind in a vision
of a better world free from the dangers that would rip our world asunder.

-Above all, be an inspiration for the light and the orphans from which you come. As you are
are inspired from the relics of those who have gone before in the light, live a life to inspire
those who will come after you in your footsteps, seeking such inspiration!

Role

Chapter 6

(you see a journal with the first title Darkness and Dedication scratched out)

What is it to retain our purity while we seek a better world? In a war that leaves
so little to simple choice of right and wrong. But rather what is more right and the
least of wrongs. Today I sought out Baerinika, and her wisdom not only was a guiding
compass, but informed yet again, the importance of know why, what, and from where
we come to our fight and war for our pursuit in this world we've been blessed with.

However imperfect, while we seek to make it better, and indeed left better for our children.

From the earliest days, I have sought a world without darkness. A better world. Life's
experience gifted me with the wisdom and patience to research more existential calamities
facing our world.

Against cataclysm: rifts, monoliths, society's on self destruction, Ages that nearly broke us.

There can be no greater calling than to save the world. And that which burns down the
house, needs our attention as much as the evil house thief in the night. Especially, if
we are the ones starting our own fires!

But the question of who, what, and why we are can not be lost. I am an elf, blessed of the
Light and training as a weapon against not only magic, but the darkest of sorceries. Yet
to lose sight of that, is to shatter the very foundation of the metal upon which spirit was forged.

So then, I must seek to retain my purity, my reverence for the light. We shall find away
a world without magic. And how can I not wish a world without darkness? But someone put
out the fire that endangers us all. And with each found ancient village relic, I am reminded,
there is a place, for us the Chosen of the light, to set out against such a threat!

Role

Chapter 5

Lyrien stood overlooking a village of huts. She was a budding historian of
civilization's ruin and fall through the use of magic. An archeologist of
sorts of monoliths and rifts, if only to know their dangers to the world.
Even a student of dark magic, in an attempt to truly grasp the dark and
negative energies man would seek out to thwart life itself.

Knowledge was power, and she sought to know the risks to her and all of
civilization. Yet she had led a clean life, free of magic as she researched
that very force and its threats to this Age, carefully seeing where her
conclusions would draw.

And so she approached Tahren, seeking not only to save the world, a
ridiculously audacious and pretentious goal for any elven maiden, but to
strike a pact.

She would try to focus not on fighting the small fights against the wicked in
front of her, but see the larger chessboard, the dangers to the world around
them. She would fight for a world without magic, free from darkness if
possible for she would double down on the dark arts twice as hard. However,
her focus would be those that threatened the fabric of time and space itself.

Role

Chapter 4

Lyrien stumbled outside the backdoor of the Inn of the Eternal Star, having
listened to the hundredth tale from yet another adventurer about the good
they would do in the world. Yet in the corners of the Inn always sat those
plotting and waiting to do the exact opposite of good. A constant struggle,
never ending, all pawns in a bigger game.

She found a favorite spot in a clearing behind the inn to sleep, whose fresh
air would serve as an immediate salve to her coming hangover, at the debt of
a shameful morning rise outdoors as she stumbled back into the inn among the
early risers at breakfast. Probably judging paladins knowing her luck.

Lyrien stopped suddenly. The moonlight outlined an ancient book from the
lyceum that should not be outside its walls, sitting on top of a stump.

Long an avid reader, she sat down in drunken wonder, and started in. It
was a curious thing, discussing the ancient cataclysms and falls of various
civilizations: Dwarves who had dug to deep. Duergars who became greedy.
Conjurer encampments who opened ancient rifts. Mages locked away above chasms
of chaos. She drifted off to sleep, a child once more, and she dreamed in wonder.

When Lyrien woke that morning, the book was gone.

A seed had been planted. Lyrien soon found herself hungry for more texts on
rifts, monoliths, and other magic that had caused the ruin of civilization and
the turning of the Ages.

Each story led back to magic, intended and unintended. Evil deeds, careless
deeds, and even entire civilizations destroyed from magic built upon the
magic accomplishments of those who were good and well-intended.

Suddenly, Lyrien realized she had been trying to save one child and commoner
at a time, when the whole world had been and still was in need of saving.

Role

Chapter 3

The young elven woman Lyrien sat drinking in yet another bar somewhere amidst
the white-washed walls of Voralian City. With a natural gift for levity and
cheer in her songs, it was never enough to drown out her own memories of the
night so long ago once the darkness of night came.

She remembered this time of night. And there was only one salve for the
horrors that plagued her. She stumbled out of the Valorian Inn, tipsy, but
alert enough to do her duty. A very sad version of the knights in her old
tales. These were her dragons, these were her purpose.

It didnt take long to find them. More trios of thugs. Some evil, some
doing evil, as they bashed and chopped down the helpless commoners in the
night. The tribunal did nothing to protect them, and Lyrien had been punished
instead herself once, when she tried to protect them outright in the open
daylight. The tribunals had sided with the trio of killers.

And so as the trios cut down the commoners, and children of the light who had
no one to protect them, and as the killers were lost in their bloodlust, she
cut down the murderers instead. And is each fell, she thought of each child
who could not defend itself in that orphanage long ago, when she could do
nothing but slap and scream as her sisters and brothers fell beside her.

But she could do something now. And so the wicked fell, and those who would
do wicked things. She slashed and sang until they died and moved on the
ground no more.

Yet day came, and she became disillusioned. For sunlight could not hide the
horrors she saw while the Tribunal did nothing. And she could not protect the
commoners and urchins when the killers came in yet again in open daylight.

Lyrien's mood grew into despair, the crusade against darkness thug by thug
seemingly hopeless. So the young elven lady set off to the Heralds Inn in
search of stronger drink and a higher purpose.

Role

Chapter 2

Lyrien, now the oldest orphan in Balator, sat reading to adoring children of
various ages, as she neared the end of an ancient story.

"And then!" roared Lyrien, "The ancient knight of Shokai, in utter
dismay that the priestess of Raisa had fallen at his side, CHARGED the black
dragon, knowing his doom!"

...skip a few...she thought..

Lyrien beamed, snapping the book shut. "And so did the righteous knight
find his fight against the darkness as was his purpose!"

The children cheered.

One overly inquisitive child opened its mouth to protest, but Lyrien deftly
interrupted with "Dance time!"...pulling out her piccolo.

As the boys and girls stood up to dance, suddenly, a trio of strangers burst
into the room! Children screamed as unimaginably the evil party of three
seemed to actually seek out orphans to target!

Lyrien watched in horror as child after child was cut down before her. She
tried to protect them, but the trio of murderers laughed as her slap after
slap left them clearly unthreatened.

Lyrien would have been the last and final orphan to die, but a waking Jaragh
wandered into the room, and the trio of killers screamed, as he instinctively
assisted Lyrien. Despair washed over her, as she crumbled to the ground,
saved, but clearly and by far, the oldest orphan left alive.

Role

Chapter 1

A group of children, the youngest among the Balator orphanage, sat gathered
in rows around the ancient knight Jaragh. He was reaching the end of his
tale, and all the toddlers stared with rapt attention as they sat
criss-cross-monk-of-moudrilar style on the floor.

"And then..." roared Jaragh, "The ancient Knight of Shokai, in utter
dismay that the priestess of Raisa had fallen at his side, CHARGED the black
dragon, knowing his doom!"

All the toddlers gasped. The little toddler Lyrien leaned forward.

"The dragon reared back its mighty head, as its gaping maw breathed forward
a blast of acid!" Jaragh shouted. "The holy knight raised his shield to
deflect, confident and knowing his purpose! But...: Jaragh warned,
"The ancient dragon uttered a spell, and darkness descended on the knight,
who lost all sense of where and when the attack was coming!"

Jaragh slammed the book shut, clearly having memorized the last part of this
favorite tale.

All the toddlers jumped. Lyrien clenched her little fists.

"The dragon roared! The spittle hissed! And the righteous knight screamed
in agony as he MELTED to the floor alongside his beloved priestess of
Raisa!"

The toddlers screamed. At least three wailed. Another was curled in a ball in
a corner.

Jaragh, not really trained in the art of toddler and oblivious, beamed as
he imagined himself going out in such a righteous blaze, or at least spittle,
of glory. "And so did the righteous knight die fighting against the darkness
as was his purpose!"

Old ancient Jaragh, lost in his own nostalgia, suddenly came to his senses.
"Bedtime everyone!" he said, a little perplexed at the room full of crying
toddlers. Bedside manners, perhaps literally, was not the knight's strongest
virtue.

Amidst the wailing and still shaking toddlers, a young female elven toddler
sat with a smile on her face, still yet lost in her imagination of the tale.

Lyrien dreamed herself one of the legends in the old knight's stories,
fighting against the darkness.

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