Sariel Swiftblood
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~ 18 Dusk Soar Moon, 1452 AL
~ 24 Years Old
Life has always been pretty simple for Sariel. A day of training here, a day of hunting there, some time spent studying at school. For most of her life, she knew what she was going to be. A guard, simple as that. There were no prospects of a better life out there, one that boasted of legendary tales and epic fights. Though of course, like many her age she longed for something more, she was content with the life that she was currently living.
Of course, sometimes life just stops being simple. When the runaway daughter of a dead Shield captain comes wandering into her life, Sariel starts to question everything she's ever known, including whether she should be striving for more out of life.
The other woman - a tall blonde with a long, dark wood bow strung across her back - eyes you warily. Assessing you.
"You carry yourself differently to most bartenders I've seen," she says evenly, head titled slightly to the left.
Your heartbeat quickens. Brow furrows. It's not as if this woman knows who you could've been before, all those years ago, but the way she looks at you says she knows there's something more and that itself is cause enough for concern.
"Redbarrow has it's fair share of bandits," you reply - almost as evenly but not quite managing to tame all of your fear. "Growing up there, you learn how to handle yourself."
There's a short pause as she considers your answer, head still tilted out of curiosity. Then the moment passes and she smiles, half genuine and half like a cat's caught it's prey.
Physical Description
Sariel is above the average height for a human in Ma’rune, standing tall at 5 foot 9 inches. Though she is slim, she isn’t lacking in muscles, they are just less obvious or defined than some of her fellow guards or companions. She favours dexterity and endurance over physical strength.
Part of the reason that she is so physically fit is that her parents impose a strict training regime upon her. It is not unheard of for Sariel to skip out on this training, especially if she is bored, but most of the time she will stick to the routine. But these rigorous years of training have not come without their setbacks.
Her parents weren't cruel, put pushing her to her limits meant that Sariel ended up with myriad cuts and bruises after particularly long or brutal training sessions. Her lack of physical strength, particularly in comparison to her mother’s own strength, often ends up as the main focus for these training sessions. This has led to a few scars across her torso being more apparent than others. Sariel has also ended up with more than her fair share of scars due to constantly feeling as though she needs to prove herself to others. The most noticeable of these being a gash across the back of her left hand that has never truly healed. It has also left her with a lack of feeling in her left hand.
“Sariel? Darling, what happened?” her mother asks, tone an octave too high and laced with concern. She takes Sariel’s hand in her own, turning it over to better inspect the blood oozing across her knuckles and down her wrist from the gaping gash drawn across frail skin. The sight of it spurs her to call out over her shoulder. “Lucas, get the emergency aid equipment now!”
She doesn’t wait for a response. Almost immediately, she settles into the seat beside Sariel and starts to soothe her; one hand running through dark blonde hair and the other tentatively wiping away the tears falling across Sariel’s cheeks. Sariel leans into her mother’s touch, hiccupping between sobs of grief and pain.
“It’ll be alright, darling. Don’t worry. We’ll get it sorted soon.”
The sharp lines of her long, angular face do well to mask the intelligence hidden behind emerald green eyes. People that don’t know her often mistake her for just another pretty face. Her skin has garnered an evenly spread tan due to her days spent working under clear, sunny skies. The exception to this being areas that are usually covered throughout most of the year, such as her chest and upper legs, though these areas are not starkly brighter.
She likes to wear her hair down, the fringe falling partially across the right side of her face, though its length is practical enough that she never feels pressured to tie it up. So long as she can keep her fringe pulled to the side and out of her eyes, she can get away with it being down in most situations.
Typically, Sariel will wear a sleeveless gambeson with a plain, grey undershirt underneath. She has a couple of bracers that were made on commission by the local leatherworker. These bracers are made of a standard brown leather. The first acts as an armguard on her right wrist to prevent injury during archery, covering her forearm, thumb and index finger. The second covers her forearm and the three middle fingers on her left hand. She also wears cloth trousers, typically either dark blue or very dark grey in colour, and leather boots. To accompany this look she has a one-sided leather pauldron that covers her right shoulder as well as a hooded cloak. The cloak stops just past her waist and the clasp sits off center, just above her left clavicle, so that it falls slightly more over her left shoulder.
Personal History
Sariel grew up in the small town of Zerac in the north eastern regions of Yondar. Surrounded by hills and valleys, as well as the forests to the north, she spent her younger years playing around these parts with the other children. Extremely popular with the other children, she would convince them to stray further from the town than necessary, which would often lead to them getting into trouble - either with their parents, or with the native wildlife.
Because of the mischief she would cause, her parents sought to provide her with a better sense of direction in life in the hopes that having her focus on the future would draw her away from childish notions of fun. It worked, for a while. Sariel found that training with a bow, or her mother's daggers, was entertaining enough and proved quite a challenge. Wanting to prove her capabilities to herself and her parents, she would spend hours training outside of those spent partaking in her mothers lessons.
Eventually, when Sariel was around 16 years old, the other children that she used to frequently play with had grown up wondering what had happened to their defacto leader, and sought her out. Realising that in focusing solely on her training she had been missing out on actually growing up, she wound up sneaking out after hours with the others to various parties.
Her parents would never find out about these dalliances with the other teenagers her age. Sariel had swiftly mastered the art of sneaking in and out of the house, something that was made all the easier by her mother's frequent and easily clocked shifts with the local guard.
“Remember that time we snuck out to Micah’s party?” Sariel asks, gently nudging Callie’s side.
Briefly, confusion creases Callie’s brow, but you see the slow realisation dawn on her as her cheeks begin to redden. Her eyes grow wide. “Oh gods, please don’t bring that up again.”
“Why not? We had fun, didn’t we?”
“I got grounded for weeks!” Callie cries before burying her face in her hands. All of her responses thereafter are muffled, exasperated things. “And all because you decided it would be a good idea to ‘make the party a little livelier’. I’m still not sure how you managed to avoid a scolding from your mother for that one.”
“Oh, years of practice. Besides, you. did. have. fun.” Every word is accentuated by a playful poke aimed at Callie’s ribs. She tries to fend Sariel off, but even her feigned annoyance can’t mask the smile on her face. Infectious as it is, you find a similar smile stretching across your own lips.
It didn't take long for Sariel to fall back into old habits, once again becoming a leader to the others and embracing her daring nature. Equipped with years of training and weapons to call her own, she would continue to venture further and further into the northern forests in spite of the dangers it posed. More often than not she would venture out alone, though she would never boast to the others how far she had journeyed, for fear of whatever repercussions would await should her parents find out.
By 23 years of age, she had been integrated into Zerac's town guard, alongside her mother, the adults who had coddled her growing up, and a few friends from her younger years. As a guard, she would ask to join the sweeps along the outskirts of town in order to fulfil her ever growing need to venture out to places she had never been. Should would also be the first to volunteer to acccompany merchants passing through town, hearing their stories and protecting them as they moved on to their next trading venture. This was often met with disapproval from her mother, but she never stopped Sariel from volunteering her efforts or prevented her from leaving the town borders.
Social
Family Ties
Growing up as an only child, Sariel’s immediate family includes just her mother, Terra Swiftblood, and her step father, Lucas Dunforth. She has met her step grandparents and her step uncle Rylan, but her mother has little family left to speak of. Sariel has never met her biological father, so she has no idea what her family is like on that side of the tree.
You find Sariel stretched out over the grass, looking out into the field before her. There in the distance a handful of guards are practising drills as the sun bears down overhead. One figure in particular catches your eye. Her hair, and eerily familiar dark blonde, is pulled into a neat and uniform bun. She leads the drills; you can just make out her faint shouts, calm and commanding.
“Have you told her you’re leaving yet?” you ask, glancing over at Sariel so that you can catch any changes in her expression, only to find that mask firmly in place.
Instead of the startled gasp you were expecting, Sariel just slowly cranes her neck up to look at you. At a glance she looks bored. But there, for a brief moment, you see a flicker of emotion creep into those dazzling emerald green irises. You barely know the woman, so assuming you know which emotion it was that cracked through her mask is absurd, but to your intuitive mind it looked a lot like fear.
“No, not yet,” she says softly. Her gaze wanders back to the field, to those guards, to the woman who is undoubtedly Sariel’s mother. “But I will.”
The relationship with her mother and step father is an amicable one. They aren’t exactly close, but they have been kind and loving parents over the years. When she was younger, Sariel always used to confide in the two of them and the family was thick as thieves, but as Sariel grew older and yearned for her independence, little by little she started to withdraw.
Following in her mother’s footsteps and becoming a guard means that she tends to spend a lot more time around her mother. It has turned their relationship into more of a work based one, strictly professional, which her mother laments whenever they try to spend time together outside of their work. On the other hand, it has led to her speaking to her step father when it comes to more personal matters, because Sariel feels she has an added level of privacy around him.
Religious Views
The Swiftbloods traditionally follow the teachings of the Church of Van-Hael. Sariel’s mother in particular is a very devout follower, attending sermons whenever possible and often dragging Sariel along for the ride. Over the years, those teachings have stuck. Though Sariel isn’t as devout, nor as eager to attend every possible sermon, she will still practice the Church’s teachings on a more personal level. Despite this, she will often joke to her friends that she is only in it for the festivals - but anyone who truly knows Sariel is well aware that this is little more than a joke
On the opposite end of the scale, her step-father doesn’t worship any deities. She finds his viewpoint interesting considering she has grown up around so many others who share her beliefs, so she especially enjoys discussing the topic with him.
When it comes to other deities, most of her opinions of them are formed from the opinions of the Church, since those teachings are the ones she grew up with. This means that her view on Valis and Sar - the deities worshipped by the Nightsingers - are particularly negative. Whenever she and Yevelda discuss the topic of deities and religions it can get quite heated because of their opposing viewpoints, so their friends try their best to avoid bringing it up.
Class
Ranger
Species
Human*
Family
Terra Swiftblood - Mother
Lucas Dunforth - Step Father
What Does She Like?
One might think the town life suits Sariel to perfection, especially considering her social skills and her boastful tales of various trysts. But she actually prefers the expansive forests surrounding Zerac to the lively bustle of the town itself. The solitude that she can find within the forests affords her a comforting peace that she is unable to replicate elsewhere. Her favourite spot in particular is a small grove northeast of Zerac that hides a lovely pond that, when the moonlight shines just right into the clearing, can illuminate the entire width and breadth of the grove.
Sariel isn’t inclined to share her own stories (partially because she feels that she doesn’t have any interesting ones to tell). That doesn’t stop her from asking every person travelling through Zerac for theirs. She will listen for hours, regardless of the topic. From stories of epic journeys to those that regale the almost routine lives of some, she doesn’t discriminate, they all fascinate her.
What Does She Dislike?
Storms in Zerac are, thankfully, few and far between because Sariel despises them. The rain is heavy and turns the roads to mud, the lightning that crackles through the sky is too vibrant, too haunting, and the thunder that follows leaves Sariel’s heart pounding with an anxious ache. Any time she gets caught out in a storm, she will seek the comfort of the closest shelter or, if that isn’t viable, the comfort of those around her. This has happened a couple of times whilst she has been on duty and the other guards have teased her mercilessly for ‘being scared of a little bit of bad weather’.
Loneliness can easily tug at the heart and weigh down the mind. Sariel much prefers to be around others - close friends, acquaintances, family. Even spending time with strangers is better than being alone in her eyes.
The finality of saying goodbye to someone, regardless of whether the time between their next meeting is going to be relatively short or quite long, has always worried Sariel. ‘What ifs’ cloud her mind with every farewell. She feels it is a strange fear to have, being so afraid of each and every goodbye potentially being her last, but she is unable to move past that fear.
Personal Connections
Callie Goodbarrel
When they first met as children, Callie was shy and barely able to step out of her comfort zone, but Sariel was determined to become friends with her. It took a while - Sariel’s loud personality might have scared her off initially - but as teenagers they began to hang around each other more often. As they spent more time together, Sariel would confide in Callie about various personal issues. Now she considers Callie to be her closest friend.
Varis Liadon
When Varis first came to town he was the latest enigma, curiosity piqued for all. But it wasn’t until Sariel started working for the guard that she met him properly. She was tasked with picking up a batch of freshly crafted armour and Varis just so happened to be the one manning the forge that day. Though her attempts to flirt with him were met with firm refusals, Sariel found herself going back to the forge just so that she could spend time with Varis and talk to him.
Yevelda
A lot of people would assume that Sariel and Yevelda despise each other considering the sheer number of arguments they always seem to get into. But on the contrary, Sariel finds their ‘heated discussions’ riveting (and maybe she does have a little too much fun poking the proverbial bear). They are also terrible gossips. Put them in a room together and they can talk for hours on end about the latest rumour making the rounds through Zerac.
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