Pyrrha




Icarian

Offline

Cosmos Equine Warden of Icarus Novice
Alignment Species Rank Buff
21 Mare — she/her 15.2 hh 1,945ʜs
Age Sex Height Currency

Appearance

forged in the stars Pyrrha is a golden red dun with faint dark, red-brown barring on her forearms and gaskin, and a dorsal stripe ‒ callbacks to an extinct, ancestor species. She has a white blaze that extends down from her forehead to between her nostrils. She has keen, green-grey eyes with a cruelly intelligent glint.
She is a medium-light, hardy looking horse ‒ her type most resembles that of the Barb horse. She is built for endurance and speed.

Sitting high and proud on her brow is a pair of antlers, sharply-pointed and adorned with runes and ritualistic markings in yellow-gold paint.

Pyrrha’s hair is wild and wind-swept, it ranges in colour from red-brown to pale strawberry-blond in the lengths. She wears her mane in a mass of long, loose locks, forelock pulled from her face; sometimes adorned with braids. There are always thick, dreaded sections in the lengths, owed to the wind and wild nature of her existence. Her tail is left long.

Pyrrha wears black clay paint over the crown of her head, covering her ears, the lower tines of her antlers and eyes; it drips down her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, like blood or tears. On her forehead, she wears a bright red circle with three bronze-gold rays protruding down – a symbol of cosmic forces (the Red Star). On her right shoulder, in black paint, is a three-clawed scratch mark – Cosmos' Claw, branding of her devotion to the father by the Abbas. Pyrrha sports decorative bands around her and legs – colourful, intricate beadwork native to her tribal area. She wears a small animal bone through her nostrils.

Tucked into the band of her right front leg, she carried the Blade of Icarus, with it's bronze, weighty handle and prismatic, luminous opal blade.


Personality


Pyrrha is a soul divided, moved by the tides of the sky;


Perhaps, when she was young, Pyrrha was a free-spirited, sweet girl--

And then the sun and the lean sea of sand hardened her. Now, she is a feature of her environment and her devotion – a bronze woman with a sandstone heart; fire combusting and consuming in her core.

She does everything with a fierceness that bites. She is callous and sharp; she is a viper in the sand. She is a demand, with very little patience for those that do not aquiece. She is straightforward; there is no room for softness in her vast, unforgiving world. She can be blindly obstinate in her opinions and beliefs, a set-in-stone morality that has more than once blinded her to the subtleties in a situation. Pyrrha is suspicious and insular, will greet almost nobody with a welcome, but with cold hostility.

Deeply loyal to her tribe, any softness that may be excavated from this woman’s meridional aspect is reserved for the desert and those found worthy of it. Love is hard to find, though it undoubtedly exists, as fiercely guarded as anything within her. For those outside of this hallowed sandscape, she has only distrust and antipathy – the ivory towers and cobbled streets of places like Morthalion being as foreign and contrary to nature as she can imagine.


She giggled and chased comets as they hurled through the night sky --

Come nightfall, Pyrrha changes.

So unlike the coiled snake below a sharp sun, she opens to the moon like a hibiscus unfurling its petals to the diffuse glow. It can be fragile, the thinnest of peaces where that spark of fire can be seen rippling below the surface; or is can be a consuming slake of her so-called sunfire (the word her mother used to describe her growing attitude as a girl), leaving her softened and receptive to the universe and all within.

No, she is never passive, never completely sheds her armor. But the violence dims to a dull glowing ember, what replaces is it is open and meditative. She still protects herself, is careful with how much she bares.
sunfire &
moonlight

cosmos, give me strength Pyrrha was born to, and raised in, the Abbas tribe of Dirtharest, devotees of the Father, Cosmos. As such, she is deeply devoted to the Sky, the Universe and everything of the Great Above.

Fanatic, zealot – none of these things would be far off of describing Pyrrha’s worship of Cosmos. She has the potential for violence in defense of her true God; on the other hand, she has seen this unerring devotion rip great, painful divides in her family, tribe and own soul. She has lost sister, cousin and friend to strayed paths, all of whom were swiftly excommunicated. The expectation was that Pyrrha would do that same.

And for many, many years she did.

These binds are tested daily by her own desire for her family, whole; her position in the Icarus tribe, wherein her in-born prejudices serve only harmful ends; and by her own growing and maturing and figuring out her own place in the Universe.

History

“Cosmos arranged his stars”

pre-dating Totem
Cosmos arranged his stars in blessing;
A fire burned bright, washing the nest in a dance of red and orange that threw mother's shadow in strange splays across the wind-eaten stone. She had nursed it carefully to its wild conflagration, busying herself with this first creation – until contractions forced her down, the primal need to encourage her young to hasten growing between the shuddering columns of her ribs.

Push.

Pyrrha was born under the eyes of Cosmos – He smiled.

She grew up below the stars – babbling the names of constellations and giving them names of her own. She played under the restless sun – frolicking in the mountainous cave system with her sister and cousins.

It was carefree, for a time.
And then father would retire to a tight circle of tribal leaders, speaking in hushed voice of blood.

Unrest in far-off lands (the acrid, black curls of smoke blotting out the Nothern sky) was soothed over with devotion – climbing the Threnody Mountain spires to chart the stars, watch how they blinked and arranged themselves; noting those that seemed to fall like so many dead things across the dark sky. Wondering where they were going; who they might be. Reading the shapes of clouds as they furled and unfurled around one another, clasping great, billowy hands.

In this, she became lost, or, perhaps, found – subsumed. It became her and, of course, for this she was embraced wholly by her parents and the Abbas, having suffered the betrayal of their first-born, whose eyes had turned downcast from the skies.

They needed her to be better;
They made sure she was night-bound and sky-ward; they made certain she would not slip and fall, that she would carry the torch of the Father across generations. Sing his songs – dance and chant his spirit to the tribe. She was branded with markings of his touch – the black clawing on her right shoulder; the scorching red star on her forehead, emblematic of her unending vigilance to the Great Above.

In this sequestration from the outside world, she grew – hard and beautiful and cruelly unwavering; perhaps more willful than anyone had anticipated. She grew callous and wild, and yet, so did she come to terms with the bleeding of her family. Her sister Balathet. Her cousin Khatar. Their turn from the path frightened her, confused her, but in maturity, she found it in her to open to them, to bare her guilt to them, perhaps, one day – to the dismay of her parents. Revealing, perhaps, the only chink in her armor to date: those who once shared quiet moments under the stars with her.
“There is naught beyond the sand sea”

Totem; Year One, Lumenor
Year One of Totem’s recorded history began with the shriek of a pygmy dragon as it alighted upon a sandstone outcropping, holding its scaled leg out in impatience towards the sleep-deprived Pyrrha. The message hushed behind the royal wax seal would trouble her already fitful sleep – the last of the King’s wardens was dead, slain by Snatchers. Paragons across the land, called to his opulent chamber in the beating heart of that pale, heatless city to petition for oversight of the disparate, threatened lands of Nordlys.

The Universe roiled in her sleep. It grew dark and obscured by the curled claws of coming menace. As she woke, coloured stars unfurled in the sky, Guides drawing her across the sea divide, further and further North on some woe-begotten undertaking.

Cosmos, give me strength.

The Green Guide was the last to show itself, hanging over the capitol like a portent of doom. When the father summons, she follows, through the crowded, cobbled hell of Morthalion and into the oaken jaws of the palace, candlelight drawing concerned, purplish shadows between her and Hessander, high on his throne.

Pyrrha was chosen by the Grimnodas King to be the Warden of the South, given the Blade of Icarus, and turned back to Dirtharest to bolster her people against the shroud that encircles.


Relationships

sister - Balathet
cousin - Khatar


Assets

Magic



Varwulfar



Arms & Armor


Blade of the Icarus

As the Warden of the South, Pyrrha is in possession of the Blade of Icarus, an opal blade with a bronze handle.



Trinkets & Accessories

Tassled, beadwork bands around her throat and legs
Bone through her nose
4.5 10 5 64 Novice 0
ATK DEF DAM HP BUFF VP
3 5 6 8 0 0 0 0
STR SPD AGL END WP AR SR VL

Battle

Warrior

Battle VP: 0 Novice

Alchemy

Alchemy VP: 0 Novice

Stealth

Stealth VP: 0 Novice

Credits

reference by Elizahveta
banner and avatar by Rhiaan
fullbody by AmeAmeridian
chalk in history by Artistic-Pineapple
chibi by siliencely




Player

OOC name: Berb
Characters: Stellanor, Isaac
Plotter: link
Threadlog: link
Table Tracker: link


Contact

Discord:
Deviantart: