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Fiere Ryzaria - Printable Version +- FEPlanet Community (http://forums.feplanet.net) +-- Forum: Fire Emblem (http://forums.feplanet.net/forum-7.html) +--- Forum: Roleplays (http://forums.feplanet.net/forum-9.html) +---- Forum: Fire Emblem: Insurrection (http://forums.feplanet.net/forum-28.html) +----- Forum: Insurrection: Characters (http://forums.feplanet.net/forum-29.html) +----- Thread: Fiere Ryzaria (/thread-290.html) |
Fiere Ryzaria - The Evil One - 06-06-2014 Hey guys – this RP looks bloody AMAZING. Here's my profile, I hope it's alright. LET'S HAVE A ROLEPLAY EH? Name: Fiere Ryzaria Age: 43 Gender: Male Nation/Allegiance: Etruria Appearance/Description: From a mere glance, it is easy to see how Fiere Ryzaria was once a man of fine standing in the courts of Etruria – and how low he has been wrung. His robes – a faded maroon – are trimmed with the finest gold thread. Or at least, were, once upon a time. Now what little of the thread remains hangs loosely from the tattered robes he still clings to. The boots he wears are the only nods he has made towards practicality since he was brung so low. The brightly coloured silken shoes that were all the fashion in the days before the invasion are but a distant memory – solid leather boots, well-worn from the constant trekking, are now visible beneath his robes. Yet in his face is where the signs of nobility are most prominent, and most bastardised. His sallow, thin face would once have come across to the common people (and several of those whom were laughably deemed his peers by idiots) as haughty, arrogant and powerful. Yet his six months spent hiding and wandering aimlessly have callowed his once-natural look of superiority. Where there was once well-groomed, bright red hair now hangs long, lanky locks flecked with grey throughout. Where there was once a sparkle in his brown eyes, now lies the deadened look of the defeated. And where there was once the haughty expression of a man born into power, there is now...nothing. Bio/Backstory: Fiere Ryzaria was a powerful man once. In terms of technicality, he still is – his knowledge and mastery of the dark arts has diminished only slightly since he has been unable to practice. His inherited title – Count – should still stand. His charm, arrogance and belief in himself should have been able to get him out of most situations – and his magic should have been able to get him out of the rest. This brutal new world has no time for such trivial technicalities. Fiere Ryzaria was born an only child to Mikael and Ulrisa Ryzaria, popular members of the Etrurian court. They ruled their lands with kindness towards its people, and its people loved them in return. Fiere had no time for what he saw as a collective group of foul-smelling degenerates, seeing his responsibilities as heir a distraction to his true passion, the dark arts. In many ways, the dark arts were perfect for Fiere. Most practitioners are those with curiosity, people drawn by the blackness at the pit of their souls to seek knowledge, understanding or simply power. Yet Fiere dealt in the certainty that anything he could put his mind to he could master. He had heard the stories of those who lost themselves to the dark arts, let the magicks consume their minds and bodies until they were but a husk. Fiere would not let magic dictate his course. Rather he would dictate magic's course. As his studies continued into his mid twenties and his father abdicated to spend his twilight years in Ilia with his beloved mistress after the death of his slightly-less beloved wife, rumour spread in the court of a talented prodigy who wove dark magicks with the skill and craft of a seamstress weaving an expert tapestry. He was invited to the court to consult with the Magic General on all things of a dark persuasion – a role he relished, as it allowed him to showcase his brilliance publically. He grew older, wiser and more powerful with each year – and more arrogant. The courts despised him for his hubris, yet needed him for its cause. Fiere knew this and spent more and more time in seclusion at his lands, demanding that those who needed him so should expend their effort on visiting him, rather than drag him from what he saw as vital studies. As war brewed between countries, Fiere did not notice, or rather he did not care. In his hubris, he thought himself untouchable – such mastery over dark magic would help him keep his lands safe. Even if not, he considered that his talents would be invaluable to the Lycian empire. Fiere's reputation had preceded him. A Lycia terrified of what this practitioner of such evil magicks spared no manpower in ensuring his lands were ruined and his people made an example of. As for Fiere, they caught him, tried him, and burned him to death. The Lycian people rejoiced in the death of the infamous Fiere Ryzaria. Yet he was not dead. He had escaped and Lycia – desperate to show its people the retribution that would be wrought on who they saw as heretics and demon-kin – had dressed a captured shepherd of the land in fine robes and told the people that he was the man they feared. Fiere's reluctance to leave the lands he owned in his later years had worked in his favour – the Lycian common folk were none the wiser. Yet Lycia – or those who had dealt with him before the war and dealt with the Emperor in the present day – knew. They would not rest until his blood decorated a knight's blade and his head decorated the Great Ostian Wall. Since then Fiere has wandered and hid in so many lands that he knows no borders any more. He eats when he can and sleeps even less. Lycian soldiers have rarely come across him so far, and those few that did were dealt with by the magicks they feared. Yet Fiere grows weary, broken and fearful that his survival is no longer as assured as he would like. His arrogance has turned to ash in his mind, and he begins to wonder whether it's a matter of “when” and not “if” he is finally caught. Additional Information:
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