Lyneia

.:Basic Information:.

Name: Runicism
Character Name: Lyneia Vyliad (Lih-nay-ah Vih-lee-ad)
Alias/Nickname: N/A
Race: Huvel (Human mother, Elsyven father)
True Age: 30
Apparent Age: Mid-late teens (16-18)
Sex: Female
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 121 lbs
Hair Color/Style: Her hair is a soft chocolate brown, taking after her human mother. However, in brighter light it becomes obvious that there are subtle blonde highlights throughout. Most people would not think that the highlights were naturally occurring, but they are actually the influence of her Elsyven side. The style varies in length. While short overall, the front portion is kept longer, parted three quarters to the right side and flows out slightly to the side and then curls back in, stopping no further than her jaw line. Because of the offset part, the right front band of hair tends to sweep down across her right eye. Occasionally, she will use a simple, black clip to keep her hair from falling over her face. Moving from the front to the back of the head, her hair quickly tapers to a shorter cut that rings her head, styled with raised layers.
Eyes: Brown, though they seem lighter and glassier than would be normal for human eyes. It's subtle, in that an observer might notice something "off", but probably wouldn't be able to specifically say what it is.
Marks/Scars/Tattoos: None.
Physical Appearance: Lyneia has a slim, but toned athletic build. While she does not have a muscular frame by any means, a careful observer would be able to note that she must maintain fitness with some kind of regular exercise. However, having not yet reached full adulthood, she still comes across as being young and frail at times. She has fair skin, with only the slightest hint of a tan. Her relaxed expression seems flat and muted, and has been previously mistaken for boredom or even sadness. The highlights in her hair will shimmer ever-so-slightly when caught at the right angle in the sun. When standing at rest, she will often shift her weight to one leg, let her hips go one way and her head tilt the other. This posture no doubt adds to the appearance of being bored and disinterested.
Occupation/Class: Ninja, Spy

.:Secondary Information:.

Philosophy: "I will bring honor my own way…"
Magic Schools: N/A
Carried Possessions: Lyneia's only treasured possession is a small silver ring given to her by her mother. It is a simple piece of jewelry- polished silver with the clan mark engraved into it at 90 degree intervals. She does not wear the ring, but instead carries it on a thin silver chain. With the chain, the ring could be hung around the neck, but Lyneia rarely does this too and prefers to keep the ring tucked away in an inside pocket. For her miscellaneous day to day supplies, she carries a slim cylindrical bag, made of soft felt-like leather. The bag is carried on the back, with the long single strap being slung diagonally across the front of the body. The lower portion of the strap has a buckled which decouples quickly from the bag when yanked on, thus freeing the body from the bag quickly.
Clothing and Armor: Lyneia's clothes are generally monochrome with a lot of grays and blacks, or at the most consist of unassuming neutral colors. Her outfit, both top and bottom, is form-fitting, though not so tight as to restrict movement. There are no identifying marks of any kind on the garments. A charcoal grey bandage is wrapped around her left pant leg, starting from the ankle and moving up halfway to the knee. The only piece of clothing that might look out of the ordinary would be the base layer for her upper body. As usual, the black piece hugs her body lightly, but what draws attention is that it only has a single sleeve. From the collar that wraps snuggly around the lower part of the neck, the piece transitions to a full right sleeve, but cuts off above the shoulder on the left, leaving the entire left arm exposed. Along the forearm of the right sleeve are a series of thin, very light weight, rectangular metal plates with dull grey matte finishes. The protection they offer is minimal, but not entirely negligible. In public, to disguise the more conspicuous base layer, Lyneia wears a light, loose fitting overcoat made of delicate leather. This overcoat has full sleeves for both arms, but is cropped short, reaching only the bottom of her ribcage.
Weapons: The most obvious weapon on Lyneia is the long single bladed knife with no guard that she keeps strapped to her right thigh. Someone watching her carefully might also notice the pair of smaller throwing knives that are tucked under the grey bandage around her left shin, the tips of the handles peeking out just enough for her to reach easily. Strapped to her bare left forearm is a thin metal sheath, made of the same flimsy material as the panels on her one sleeve, containing a trio of small throwing stars. A shuko is worn on her left hand, though it typically just appears as a protective glove.

.:Personal Information:.

Likes: Peace and quiet, people who earn her trust, rain, furry animals
Dislikes: Blood, crowds, racists, arrogance, small talk
Merits: Agile, alert, loyal, honest
Flaws: Withdrawn, Sarcastic, Cynical, Suspicious of others, Temper, Indecisive, Hard on herself
Worst Fear: Taking the life of another
Personality:

Lyneia is a quiet individual. She's not a social butterfly, and in many cases would probably prefer to be alone, avoiding busy crowds when possible. While withdrawn and uneasy in these social settings, she is not a complete hermit. She opens up to people she considers friends, but she only feels comfortable calling someone a friend after getting to know the person. Unfortunately this problem is cyclical because she has no interest in struggling through a conversation with a new acquaintance, and therefore, in regular situations, rarely forms a bond with anyone. She would explain, in a very cynical manner that she's just being honest to herself. If she were to meet a stranger at the local pub or on the street, does she really care what this person does for a living, or what kind of family they have? No, so she reasons that asking about such things is a waste of everyone's time. Those who attempt to open up to Lyneia first are usually met with some suspicion. Having said that, she does a reasonable job at faking interest when it is necessary for her profession.

While it is very easy for Lyneia to come off as being socially rude, she maintains strong morals and a good social conscience. Her upbringing in a ninja clan strongly emphasized the sworn word. As such, Lyneia has a strong sense of honesty and loyalty which she, in fact, prides herself on. Furthermore, as a Huvel she is fully aware of prejudice and empathizes with any who experience it, regardless of the reason.

While trained as a ninja, under the tutelage of her father, Lyneia becomes distraught at the thought of assassination. Though fiercely loyal to her clan, she realized she could not stomach the more grim deeds of the profession. Torn between her obligation to her father and her obligation to herself, she became unhappy and disillusioned.

History:

Lyneia was born into a small, mobile ninja clan. A rarity as a Huvel, Lyneia's human mother and Elsyven father were both ninjas who had supposedly fallen in love after years of working side by side. At least this was what Lyneia's mother had explained to Lyneia when she was little. Regarding the subject, her father remained expressionless and never spoke a word about it. What her father had done instead was try to instill in her as much of the Elsyven culture as possible.

"Lyneia," her father began to explain one night when he had taken her out to practice the accuracy of her throwing stars. "You need to understand that emotional outbursts are considered a weakness among our people."

Lyneia rolled her eyes, flicked the small metal star in her hand at the target and said, "I know... I know..." This was not the first time she had received the lecture. Nonetheless she could not hope to meet the expectations set by her father, though she understood the importance. Her father merely wanted to ensure that she would be accepted by Elsyven culture. But no matter the number of lectures she received from her father, she knew that she could not suppress her human side, nor did she feel that she should be forced to do so. Yes, she had a temper at times and she easily became frustrated with herself during training. But this was normal, not something to be ashamed of.

Life within the clan was highly structured. Lyneia's mother and father taught her a strict sense of discipline. You wake up at this time. You train at this time. You eat at this time. Days ran with clockwork efficiency. Her parents initiated her training as a ninja as soon as her fine motor skills were developed. It had started with simple drills to improve fitness, and gradually branched off to more applied exercises. Often she was left in the care of one of the other adults in the clan, while her parents were away on their own tasks or missions. Not that it required much to care for Lyneia. She was a good child, and she worked hard to make her mother and father proud. Her father especially.

Her first official job for the clan came when she was 16, despite the fact that, with half Elsyven blood, she was still just a child. The tasks were easy enough though. Generally nothing more than information collection at a nearby town, and she excelled at it. She would return home after a successful outing to a smile and warm hug from her mother. She would then turn to look at her father, who would simply nod. Lyneia knew within herself that this was just her father's way. He was proud of her too.

Years later, at the age of 22, she received a landmark assignment.

"Assassination," stated the elder clansman. Lyneia looked up with widened eyes at her father who stood passively beside her. He noticed her stare, looked down, quietly nodded and turned to leave as the elder clansman went on to explain the details to Lyneia.

Her heart thumped violently in her chest. Over and over and over. Her heavy breathing, deafening. Lyneia sat slumped against the alley wall, wedged between a pair of barrels. The moon shimmered brightly off the rain slicked path, a grey drizzled still lightly fluttering down from the sky. In the shadow of the alley, Lyneia nervously fingered her knife.

"This will be a simple task," the elder clansman had assured. "The target is a sloth, with no combat experience. Do not be concerned about your youth."

Lyneia grit her teeth, and with eyes closed slowly took in a breath. The unsettling sound of shuffling footsteps faded into existence. Lyneia slowly released her breath. The meandering steps grew louder. This was the target for sure. The location was right. The time was right. The shuffling... right. Her tiny hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of her knife and slipped it out from its sheath. Lyneia held back a sharp gasp as the silhouette of the target shuffled into view. Go now. Go now. Go NOW. Lyneia urged herself forward with a clumsy lunge from her hiding spot, scuffling across the grimy alley floor, splashing through a puddle.

The silhouette stopped suddenly, hearing the sound. "Hmm?" His head jerked around and looked directly into the alley. "Who's there?"

Lyneia wanted to scream. She wanted to run away. Instead she sprinted forward, and leapt straight into the man, her knife sinking in with a dull, wet thud. Her terrified eyes locked onto the man's eyes stunned with fear and confusion. Lyneia's gaze darted to her knife, lodged into the man's arm that had come across his body to protect himself. She panicked. Her element of surprised was gone. The man still lived. Without thinking her left hand shot up and slapped itself across the man's mouth, warm sticky spittle coating it as he tried to scream. No, no, no! Please die! Please die! Please... PLEASE! Lyneia's right hand ripped itself away from the knife lodged in the man's struggling arm, fingered a small throwing knife into her grip, and jammed it into the man's jugular.

Lyneia returned home. Blood stained her hands and clothes, and marred her face. Her mother brought over a warm washcloth and began to wipe away the blood. Her father simply nodded.

She had killed a man. This haunted her mercilessly. This was the kind of thing her life would involve? This is what her mother and father had done... how many times? She didn't want to remember seeing the life drain from the man's eyes. She didn't want to remember how his body clenched and fell limp and sickly in a pool of blood. She didn't want to remember the disappointed frown on her father's face when she adamantly refused to do subsequent jobs. In tears, she had begged them not to send her.

Torn between her obligations to her father and clan, and her obligations to herself, Lyneia grew despondent over the next couple of years. Yet she could not tell her father. Her mother saw the conflict within her, and with motherly compassion, Lyneia was brought aside.

"Lyn honey... Tell me what's wrong," urged her mother in a soft nurturing voice. "Don't be afraid". Lyneia cried again that day, held firmly in her mother's embrace.

On her 26th birthday, Lyneia parted ways with the rest of the clan. "Find your own path," said her mother with a smile and tears. "Find what makes you happy. But promise us one thing."

"Of course," said Lyneia quietly.

"Promise us, your mother and father, that you won't forget who you are. You are a part of this family and we know you will uphold its honor. And always remember that we love you."

"I promise."

Now, several years apart from her clan and family, Lyneia holds her promise. In honor of all her father had taught her, she is determined to stay true to her family, yet find her own way to bring honor.