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Current

Current Novus date and time is

▶ Year || 502
▶ Season || Summer
▶ Temp || 74℉ (℃) - 100℉ (℃)
▶ Weather || With the end of Spring comes Summer's warm embrace. While some flourish in the comfortable glow of the sun, others take shelter from its sweltering midday heat. Even so, it is now that the continent bustles with life, for it won't be long until a cool chill returns.

Spotlight

Character of the Season
Avdotya

Member of the Season
Jeanne

Thread of the Season
.. Cool your fever ..

Pair of the Season
Ipomoea and Messalina

Quote of the Season
Bexley gives him a cold, dark, beautiful smile. “Wanna see a trick?” she asks, eyes glowing with feral self-satisfaction. The bare of her teeth in a mock-grin is nothing less than terrifying. “I can make you see ghosts.” do the hungry ever sleep?

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DISCORD


Raymond
Dusk Court Warrior


The Character


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▶ Age: 9 [Year 492 Winter]
▶ Gender: Male [He/Him/His]
▶ Orientation: Heterosexual
▶ Breed: Mutt
▶ Height: 15.0 hh
▶ Health: 8
▶ Attack: 12
▶ Experience: 10
▶ Signos: 1,165 (Donate)

▶ Joined: 04-21-2018
▶ Last Visit: 5 hours ago
▶ Total Posts: 26 (Find All Posts)
▶ Total Threads: 6 (Find All Threads)

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To the uncritical eye, Raymond would be remembered only by the bright copper-red of his coat. A wiser individual would recognize him for what he is: either a powerful ally or a dangerous foe. He has a slender, sinewy build, and carries himself with the measured restraint of a viper coiled to strike. His martial upbringing is carved into the intentional way that he moves, the sheer economy of motion. His mane is sparse where it grows at all, and he keeps it cropped close to his crest.

He has a long, dexterous, leonine tail reminiscent of a unicorn. Also reminiscent of a unicorn, he has a single horn, but very much unlike a unicorn his horn grows at the end of his tail in the form of a wickedly sharp scythe.

Now the obsession with precision makes a bit more sense, eh?

Raymond's tail blade is not just for show. Maintaining its deadly edge is a matter of racial pride and maintaining his edge is more of a matter of personal pragmatism. Raymond has spent the better part of his adult life alone and prepares for the worst case scenario. If his charm cannot get him out of a tight spot, his combat skills will.



ENTJ: The Commander
True Neutral
cunning; confident; resourceful; witty || distrustful; vindictive; obfuscatory; independent


Raymond is an observer, first and foremost. While not quiet by any stretch of the term - often he speaks first and longest, and enjoys engaging others in conversation - he views interaction as a tool to gain information or persuade others. He will wring every ounce of value out of empty chatter and put it to use if he can. He has a well-developed sense of humor and uses it often, which makes the rare times he loses his temper all the more shocking when they occur.

He is affable as often as he can be and treats others with genuine respect until they prove themselves unworthy of it. As far as Raymond is concerned, the importance of one's political station is either completely unrelated to or negatively correlated with the respect that they deserve. He enjoys giving gifts to those he cares about, and is pretty good at remembering things about other individuals even if he's only met them once. People are important to him, even if he keeps very few of them close enough to potentially hurt him.

Raymond keeps a cool head, doesn't spoil for a fight, and generally won't willingly get into combat unless he has no other choice or has already guaranteed a positive outcome for himself. He adheres pretty strictly to the measure twice, cut once school of thinking and isn't afraid of speaking frankly with others. He is what one might call a voice of reason. This restraint, patience, and prudence are seen as necessary because when he does get tilted he tends to tilt off the face of the planet and will stop at nothing to destroy or dismantle who- or whatever has wronged him.

He has a strong sense of personal justice but little patience for any concept of law and order, so his methods of achieving what he deems to be right can become quite grey at times. Having been burned by the establishment once, he would prefer to defer to his own standards and principles, and views reason as the most potent tool for determining morality. He values loyalty above all else and does not break ties lightly. As such, he still views Calliope as his queen despite them having left both her kingdom and her throne long, long behind, and will go to great lengths to assist or defend her.



While exactly what Raymond is is far less important than who he has become, it might be beneficial to know that he began his life as a respected yet unremarkable member of a tribal race called rendari horses, which were known for their brightly colored coats, bladed tails, and fierce dispositions. The rendari took pride in their rituals and discipline - a necessity in a society where even the very young carry weapons - and Raymond would have lived and died as a defender of his clan but for the cruelty of ambition.

Where some preferred to lend their strengths toward conquest, the dal'rend of Raymond's clan hoped only for peace and prosperity among his people. Neighboring societies made far better allies than victims in his eye, and years of honest toil had carved out a stronghold and a budding diplomatic network with other rendari clans and foreigners alike. But some among the clan thirsted quietly for the glorious tales told of blademasters and bloodshed from the days of old. They chose to practice their new ethos first upon the dal'rend and those who shared his vision, murdering them in their sleep before they could raise the alarm.

For the last time in his life, Raymond was blinded by his own naivete.

Only a warning from the lips of a dying comrade spared him from the same grisly fate. Faced with the prospect of a valiant, suicidal charge against the usurpers, Raymond was forced to flee.

After that day, he seemed to disappear as far as the clan could tell, and the fate of one wounded exile was no bother to them when there was conquest to be had. But the new dal'rend would find as they worked to cement their power that the wilderness suddenly seemed more treacherous for his war parties; allies dried up like water in the desert. Strangers anticipated their tactics and thwarted them more often than not. The rituals that had kept them and their blades keen and ready for generations were suddenly a crippling weakness.

Raymond moved on only when word came that the new dal'rend had fallen, his stronghold left for the carrion birds. He carried nothing with him but himself - every trinket his words had bought traded away again just as quickly, every drop of blood spilt to further his cause left to stain only his memories - and the lessons of his ugly work. He watched everyone with the distrustful scrutiny of a hungry dog and exploited their strength to fortify his weakness. He fought with information where his tail blade could not hope to reach. Honor was a child's fantasy. Even the sacred traditions of his people were not too high a price to pay for justice. He could never show his face among the rendari horses again.

With no home of his own Raymond did what any self-respecting outcast would do and started walking. Various shenanigans ensued - none of which are collectively important, except to say that they happened and served to propel him forward in his own narrative, hardening him against such fancies as hope, charity, and law - until he arrived at Ravos.

It was full of all the intrigue and dangerous tribalism that had done him so poorly in the past, but the land was steeped in strange magic and preyed upon his curiosity. It was then that he met Calliope.

She was more beast than unicorn. He offered his strength to her cause at first by the sheer ballsiness of her pitch, but grew respect the honesty of her savage elegance and her reckless pursuit of a sort of justice he understood well. The allegiance he had meant to give as a means to obtain leverage for himself grew into proper loyalty the better he came to know her. When the rift called them to leave Ravos and Velius behind, he did not hesitate.

But the rift was a vicious thing. He arrived to find Shrike - Calliope's closest companion - dead, and Calliope herself mad with vengeful fury. Only the cool logic of his own harsh lesson, now long past, was sufficient to calm her bloodwrath. But she was not one to be harnessed and led by well-placed words; she was a roiling sea in a tempest, depthless passion and terrible conviction. He might save her life by soothing her rage, but nothing could turn her from her hunt. Accompanied by his new companion Ruth - a strange hairless kitten found near death in the western riftlands and nursed back to health by Florentine - Raymond returned to Velius, to the seat of Calliope's once and future power, and returned with a silver cuff he had forged both as a focus for her power and a token of his loyalty.

He developed a strong bond with the spirited kitten on their shared journey, though he would never have admitted his fondness for her out loud. Instead he poured all of his remaining spellforging power into the delicate sapphire-adorned collar she wore. The enchanted collar would protect its wearer from virtually all harm, both physical and magical, thus ensuring her safety. Together they returned to the Rift, where he presented Calliope with the token from her lost kingdom.

When the rift fell to ruin, Raymond left with her, but not without cost. This time, as they crossed through the tumultuous Rift, Ruth lost her grip on his back and was torn loose, tumbling deep into the heart of the rift.

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