Name: Dessrivæ Bardiché (Dez-riv-ay Bar-dee-chay)
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 105 lbs.
Eye color: Blue
Hair color: Dark Red-Brown
Element: Fire
Class: Ranger
Level: 1
Gold: 3000
Equipment:
Archer's Bow
Black Cloth Cloak
Leather Gloves
Leather Breastplate
Leather Boots
Physical Description:
Dessrivæ has a very slight and delicate structure, everything about her physical appearance is soft and unthreatening. She has crystal blue eyes, and dark, wavy, redish-brown hair. Her nose is small and narrow, her cheekbones are arranged in such a way that draws notice to her eyes and makes her face seem all the more heart-shaped at the same time. Her skin is powder white and lightly freckled on her cheeks. Because of her small frame, she relies on her speed rather than her strength whenever in a struggle. She could easily outrun most people, elves, men or dwarves but could rarely over power them. Her clothes are dark and rugged but usually light-weight. Her goal in anything she wears: hide how truly delicate she is and be as uncumbersome as possible in case she needs to get away in a hurry. She's usually seen with her dark hood shading her eyes and revealing only her small nose and thin lips. Sometimes little tufts of red-brown hair fall from behind the hood but are quickly put back in place and sometimes, if she lifts her head at just the right angle, the brilliance of her blue eyes can be seen... just for a moment.
Personality: Her personality is a perfect contrast to her physical appearance. She's proud and often times, her mind proves bigger than her body. At all times she is painfully aware of her physical inferiority and works all the harder to make up for it. She's sharp and sardonic and armed with a quick tongue. She's been known to use any manuever available to her to get what she needs--including her body. The love of her life has long since passed away and so she has no desire to kiss up-- to any man for love ever again.
History:
"...I slipped from my room while my husband was asleep. I ran away with my true love and felt life for only such a short briefness that I shall remember it for the rest of my life, but will never quench my thirst...
"Our marriage was prearranged and I had hated my husband ever since my father had told me I was to wed him. The man himself never paid much notice of me besides to tell me that something about my dress wasn't appropriate for whatever ball we were to attend. He was a powerful man and knew everything about politics including what to wear and when and thus expected me to know the same. As for his maids, I never cared for them much either, what with all their fidling with my bosom trying to put that God-forsaken garment on me that seems to serve no purpose but to deprive me of the priveledge to breath.
"So I left one night. I went through the window of our bedroom while we were visiting one of his friends in his chateau out in the country. My greatest fear was that the wind and rain would come in when I opened the shutters and would wake my husband. In the rain and wind did come but thankfully he did not stir.
"I stole one of the stallions that belonged to the chateau and was the possession of my husband's friend but whom I had trained from birth and so preffered me over my husband or his friend.
"I met my lover by the dock where we had previously arranged to meet. He was poor but I had no choice over him. He was my true love. Together, we led our horses across the shallow river and to the otherside. Once across the river, we rode the horses fast; as fast as they would go and as far as they would go.
"I had never been able to do such a thing before in my life. For the first time I felt free.
"Once we had rode the horses a sufficient distance, we halted them in a small grove that seemed such a perfect settlement as I had ever set eyes on. We tied the horses up and might have begun to build us something in the way of a shelter had it not been for the complete perfectness of the night.
"We danced like fools for hours out in the rain. Our feet fell into deep, muddy puddles and we had long since been thoroughly soaked by the rain and were shivering but we danced on and sang and kissed. Even after our strength had worn away, our feet continued to move beneath us and our lips continued to meet.
"All my life I had been living in a nightmare. I performed the tasks that society demanded of me and behaved in the way which was proper to women. But I had always felt trapped like I had been stuck in a fitful slumber all my days, perpetually unable to awaken myself and take control of my own actions.
"Now it was like a dream. A sweet, inexplicably beautiful dream of everything my imagination had always been too suppressed to imagine but had now come rushing forth. It seemed only a dream, still. It was all too unreal to touch or feel. Everything about that night seemed so untangeable to me- all except the tenderness of his kiss.
"I wasn't aware I that I was alive until the lightning struck.
"It was so close and blinding. The horses were sent into a frenzy by it. They neighed with high-pitched sounds of distress and bucked and kicked madly about. I couldn't see for several moments and lay dizzy in the mud, suddenly vividly aware of the relentless rain around me and the penetrating cold.
"I remember blinking several times and then trying to stand. I found my legs unable to work beneath me and giving way every time I tried to lift myself. After many successions of trying to stand but ending up with a mouthful of mud, instead, the last thing I remember before coming to the next morning, was seeing his wide, petrified eyes level with mine in the mud.
"I woke the next morning knowing two things: I was alive, finally; and my lover was dead too soon.
"With a broken heart, I buried him with as much respect and dignity that I could offer him. It was only after I tried to close his eyes, frozen open by death, and found them too stiff to shut that I began to weep. I marked his grave as best as I could and said every prayer I knew for his soul.
"Determined to never return to where I'd come from, I eventually got back on my stallion and prepared him to ride again. I left the mare tied so that she might stay with her master forever and only felt remorse for doing such a cruel thing to her afterwards when it was too late. I took one last look at his grave before letting the stallion ride on. He was unaffected by it all.
"Since then I have wandered.
"The pain has stopped and now I feel nothing. This is my fate. I have run from the man my father ordered me and was punished by the death of my lover the very night. And so I roam, like a mournful shadow between the trees until I find some reason to become otherwise."

This she writes on several scrolls of weathered paper. When she is done, she lets the paper float from her hand in the wind and sends with it, a soft kiss blown from her finger tips.

D'accord. Maintenaint, c'est fini.

Excellent. A touching story.

Welcome to Dark Isles.

Being Human, and a Ranger no less, you start out in Hybernia, hidden home to the Rangers of the Northrune. They are close in kin to the Elves and have not changed much from their immortal kin in the thousands of years that they've been apart.