__________________QUICK STATS
Name Mollia Cedenmyre, or "Mollia Ravenblood" depending on who you ask
Age 32
Gender female
Species Human, Cursed
Ethnicity Adelan
Height 5'10"
Occupation Sellsword
Residence Wanderer
__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF
Physical Description
Mollia has a head of long, curly, unkempt black hair that reaches the middle of her torso if left uncombed and untangled; it likely touches her waist if properly kept, or pulled straight. It gets in her way during battle, so she often wears it in a loose ponytail behind her, or cuts it short— no longer than the nape of her neck. Due to the unique circumstances of her bloodline, it matters not; it grows back fairly quickly.
She has a conventionally beautiful face, save for a small, vertical scar from a cut she once took on the right side of her jaw. Full lips, high cheekbones, obsidian black eyes, and fairly thick eyelashes are the most striking features to anyone that takes a glance at her. Unfortunately, she almost never smiles; As such, Mollia's facial expression often sits somewhere between "Too tired to deal with your crap right now" and outright disdain. Light does not reflect back out of her eyes— she looks almost dead, or at least unfocused in that regard.
True to her Adelan blood, Mollia is built fairly tall and strong, with solid-set shoulders and well defined muscles across her torso and arms. Unlike most Adelans, Mollia is almost ghostly pale; her skin holding just enough melanin pigment to be considered skin in the first place. Her body is covered in the scars of countless battles; wounds that have healed, but taken their toll on her. Notably, there is a deep, heavy scar between the mounds of her chest, one which extends to her back as well; something pierced straight through her, at some point.
Regardless of the climate she finds herself in, it is uncommon for Mollia to be seen without her armor; A set of heavy leather armor, laden with various wolves' and other animals' fur and plated with steel pauldrons and tassets. The reinforced leather hauberk of her armor extends to her legs, not unlike a long coat, with fastenable buttons the entire way down the middle for ease of removal. Fur-lined, steel-reinforced gauntlets protect her hands, and similar sabatons protect her feet and ankles.
Mollia is equipped with a plethora of potions which line a blackened leather belt on her waist, as well as three weapons at all times; A fine iron dagger, enchanted with some sort of magic meant to reduce the rate at which it dulled, sits in a holster on the left side of her belt. Meanwhile, she carries a one-handed battleaxe, atop which sits a pointed spearhead, on her right side. Meanwhile, strapped to her back is a canister of crossbow bolts, and "Phirma"— a marvel of Connlaothian engineering. A crossbow somewhere around half of Mollia's own size, the weapon was commissioned with a composite design, instead of a traditional recurve design. With a split-limb setup, built-in adjustable bolt-cocking stirrup at it's front, and stern, heavy-set wooden base, Phirma is designed for consistency and reliability at a moment's notice over all else.
Personality
Mollia is a decidedly grim person. Small talk, socializing and even interacting with other people as a whole are things she keeps to an absolute minimum, focusing on herself and whatever her current objective might be. It doesn't mean she's incapable of holding a conversation, or that she's socially awkward— she simply chooses not to be a part of frivolous interactions unless pressed into them, or someone actively pursues conversation with her. She often lives in the silence of the world around her; Turning off her mind when she can, in an attempt to find something akin to peace, or solace otherwise.
She doesn't believe in her own happiness, or hope, or future. She has those things once, and now they're gone— irrevocably taken from her, never to be reclaimed in this mortal coil. As such, she doesn't pursue her own happiness; just her personal motives. She harbors no illusions of finding happiness, or a reason to live after achieving said motives, and doesn't see herself being convinced otherwise by anyone else. She's also already come to terms with her likely and inevitable end, walking the path she walks; however, even if only as a corpse, she'll not give up the course that sustains her.
Magic/Abilities
A brutal composite of a warrior, archer, and mage, Mollia is fairly capable with her axemanship, and can bolster her melee combat with a few simple, yet practical magical spells she has learned over the years, such as enchanting her axe with magical flames, or calling gusts of wind to kick up dust around her, creating smokescreens. She is equipped with a variety of potions, both designed to help mend wounds and poison enemies if need be. But perhaps most impressively, she possesses a curse— One which, under the right circumstances, allows her to transform into a large, black, bear-like monster capable of great feats of strength and savagery, oftentimes in an attempt to overpower her enemies where all else fails. The transformation doesn't last forever, however, and drains her of all her strength when it comes undone, requiring her to rest for several days before she can recover enough to be capable of fighting again.
Relationships
History
Mollia was born to a cursed Adellan bloodline. The Ravenblood lineage was of sorcery and secrecy; one that could trace it's history back to their Serendipity roots, and quite proud as such. The women of the Ravenblood lineage, however, were cursed by a great evil; Those who possessed the natural talent for magic were capable of, under certain circumstances, transforming into large, bear-like monsters, with strength enough to destroy their foes where magic might fail them. Often the dominant partner in a relationship, the women of the Ravenblood line seek out partners with enough magical compatibility to bear a strong, magically inclined child; Often resulting in loveless marriages. That was how Mollia was born, and raised to think.
She didn't subscribe to this logic, however; As a child, and even growing into her teen years, Mollia cared very little for the idea of continuing the bloodline, or becoming a strong mage. She grew up with a romantic heart; The oppression of her mother's dictations leading her to seek true love over something like magical prosperity. As a result, eventually, she ran away from home with enough gold to afford a road wagon away from Adela and to the outskirts of Darken Vei. There, she met the man of her dreams; A travelling merchant by the name of Levan. Mollia had gotten lost in the forests surrounding the Darken Vei, and before she could find any true danger in the woods, she found him. It was love at first sight, as they say, and Levan proved both a capable man and partner, helping Mollia to settle down in Serendipity, caring for her— and before long, the two became happily married, with a daughter of their own.
Mollia had everything she could've ever wanted; A life free of her mother's whims, a happy family, a partner that cared for and loved her every bit as much as she cared for him. It was, unfortunately, not meant to last forever; One evening, after having gone out into the markets of Darken Vei to shop for dinner, Mollia saw a dark smoke burning from the direction of her family's little home near the edge of the city. Her first instinct was to rush home, afraid for her family's livelihood; Yet when she arrived, she saw that all was fine, and the smoke had vanished. She entered her home to find her husband and daughter sitting together, enjoying a pleasant conversation. Everything seemed fine... Until she realized that they were not alone. No, a mysterious visitor had been seated with them, of pale skin and violet hair, with a mysterious smile... And as their eyes met, the change occurred. Mollia didn't know why; Not immediately. She could feel it in her blood, coursing through her veins, overwhelming her senses. She fell over in agony, her body twisting and growing, black fur coating skin, nails growing to become claws... And her life was changed forever.
It would've been a mercy if she had been lost in madness for what came next... But she wasn't. Her mind was quite clear, though her body moved against her will. Her beloved leapt forth, between herself and their daughter, in an attempt to protect her... Oh, how Mollia begged and pleaded, trapped in her own mind, that he would simply run away. Her claws ripped into him, slaughtering her beloved in so many blows until there was little left of him. Her daughter was next; Despite her best efforts, Mollia struck her down as well, leaving her laying motionless on the floor with a single blow. Her own family, gone, by her hands. Her monstrous body turned to the mysterious man, who merely smiled in glee before casting a spell of fire on her, meant to burn her alive, and the house along with it. Mollia could not move, and resigned herself to an agonizing death as the house burned down, with her and her family inside it.
That was where her story should've ended; It didn't. Perhaps it was the magic of her transformed state... perhaps it was the pure, unadulterated hatred she bore in her heart for what had become of her family... Perhaps it was her dying wish that the evils inflicted upon her be repaid 1000 fold. Whatever the case, long after the fires that destroyed her home and life were spent, Mollia awoke again. Weak, scarred, and broken, she found the strength to free herself from the debris of her fallen home. Her husband's charred corpse lay not far from her own; Her daughter's body, nowhere to be found. She mourned; cries and screams of her own pain, and the pain of all that she'd lost filling the night skies, until she could cry no more, and all that was left was a hollow vessel, fueled only by the drive to find out who brought this hell upon her, and make them pay for it. She buried what was left of her beloved's corpse, and with it, the last remnants of her former life, before setting off on a life-long journey of revenge.
It's been 5 years since that fateful day. Mollia had grown from a wistful widow into a cold-hearted weapon of vengence, forged by her many struggles and hunts in search of who, or what, had taken her life from her that fateful day.
__________________THREAD TRACKER
Current Threads
Complete Threads
