Duchess Arielle Bérengère de Lyonesse

Duchess de Lyonesse Arielle Bérengère (a.k.a. Maiden of the Sword)

Arielle is to many in Lyonesse the epitome of what a knight should be. She cuts an impressive figure, particularly in the full plate she oft wears, her honey-brown hair finely trimmed. She holds herself with a confidence that few can muster, and her emerald eyes have a fierceness about them. Some would argue that the scar that cleaves from her nose to under her chin disfigures her, but to her loyal subjects, it is a sign of the lengths she is willing to go for them.
She is, without a doubt, one of the most consummate duelists across the planes. She trains every day without fail, and has fought her entire life to earn that title. It is, after all, the reason she is known as the Maiden of the Sword by her troops, a title she wears proudly.
Said to have been blessed by the Lady of the Lake, Arielle carries Le Rugissement du Lion. She is not the first to wield it, nor shall she be the last. Le Rugissement du Lion is a mystical weapon, said to be granted to deserving knights by the Lady herself, it is enchanted such that it fills the wielder with a supernatural strength. This strength is such that they may face the fiercest of foes, and stand against them, the playing field leveled.

Mental characteristics

Personal history

Arielle’s tale, as all others, begins at her birth. Her mother was not a faithful woman, and so her father was a constant unknown. Still, the father she knew was a gentle soul, who treated her as much a princess as he could manage. It was all for naught however, as with the birth of her sister a mere three years later, her mother fled, leaving the younger child behind, and taking Arielle with her.
The next two years were spent on the road, with little more than bread and water to sustain them. It was her mother’s fault however, as she repeatedly turned away the offers of the villagers. Whatever she hoped to twist Arielle into failed, for the young girl had a heart of steel, and wore the hardship like a badge. Indeed, even as her mother faltered, Arielle pushed on.
Eventually, Arielle left her mother in a small village in the south of Lyonesse, turning her attention to the capital. Barely ten, the world did not seem that much scarier than the creature she had left behind. And as she adventured, she grew, the flame in her chest driving her to acts of brazen zealotry, that often left her worse for wear in a medic’s tent, with a poor medic she could not pay.
However, she bit off more than she could chew on the turn of her twelfth birthday, in which she found herself facing a multi-headed beast, a hydra from the planes that had somehow wandered far, far from home. And her life would have ended there, had the Duke of Lyonesse, Cyril Vallier de Lyonesse, and a contingent of his knights arrived. But Arielle did not sit idle as they attacked, jamming a stick into the mouth of one of the heads as it pulled back to breath fire.
As impressed as he was by the young woman’s bravery, it was not until Arielle fully explained her situation that the Duke took pity upon her, and took her home to Leucreal. Cyril had been such a devotee to his people, that despite his skill with the blade, he had never sought out the Grail, nor had he pursued a wife, less that leave them even a margin more defenceless. So to him, the young girl he had found willing to face down a hydra was somewhat of a blessing.
That confrontation however, had left Arielle with more than just physical scars. She would dread each night, for as she closed her eyes, the flash of teeth, and fire, would haunt her dreams. She did not tell her adoptive father, for fear of worrying him, instead turning her attentions to her studies. Both the sword and the book held equal interest to the young teenager, but she learnt them regardless, finding that the blade came naturally to her.
It was in the Lady that she found peace. Due to her mother’s actions, she never knew stability, nor had she ever truly been taught, but it was the simple faith in that mysterious figure that turned her life down a new path.
Arielle became a welcome sight around Leucreal. She, along with her beauty, had only grown in the following years. A quick flick of her hair brought the young knights, and a mixture of childish immaturity and teenage hubris soon had her using them for everything she desired. Even if her father was the Duke, there was a lot he would allow, for he was responsible.
Her faith, as well as her morales, had guttered in the softer years at the castle, and Arielle paid them no mind. Rumours spread, and were quashed, and Arielle continued to beguile those around her. It, like all good things, came to an end however, when her father, truly tired of her antics, sent her to the capital to train as a knight.
It was sometime after her eighteenth birthday that the nightmares returned. In an instant she was transported back to that terrifying night, the hydra above her, roaring. It took three days for her father to arrive. And it was only when he embraced her did her breathing truly slow.
Though neither the doctors, nor her father, could be sure of what had caused the memory resurfacing, Arielle saw it as a sign, one from the Lady herself. Her father, knowing how hard-headed his daughter could be, begged that she spent at least one more year training before leaving. The argument that followed was such that it took the King himself interceding to pull them apart.
Exactly one year later, Arielle said her goodbyes, and with a sword at her hip, set off into the wilderness.
However, her journey from the outset was not an easy one, as the Lady, for whatever reason, granted her no further visions for two entire years. During this time, she followed the vow of the Questing Knight, never spending two nights in the same place, all her worldly possessions left in Leucreal.
She spent her time moving between villages, taking on whatever beast haunted them, from wolves to manticores. Each fight was a gruelling trial, and one that taught her more both about the world, and how each of the different creatures fought. Soon, the fights began to shrink in duration as she became more and more adept. And with each of her victories, so grew her arrogance, and soon she often spoke of herself at great lengths.
It was almost two years after her departure that she was granted her first proper vision by the Lady. Again, it was of teeth, and blood, and whispered in her ear were the words of warning, telling her to release her arrogance, to take up a vow of humility. However, so inflated was her ego that she was certain of her victory against whatever challenge the Lady would place before her.
However, it was on the very next night she was given a particular challenge by the nearby village. A hydra had been sighted haunting the edges of the nearby forest, and given her self-proclaimed expertise, they begged her to either drive it off, or slay it. Despite the flashes of her memory, she took on the villagers request, and set off towards the forest.
It did not take long for Arielle to find the beast, slumbering deep within the forest. However, as she crept towards it, she found her limbs starting to shake. And as she raised her blade, she felt her body freeze. For the scar on the throat of one of its heads was the same as that which she had given to a beast, no, this beast, nearly eight years earlier.
The beast stirred, and Arielle stumbled back, blade in a guard position. Two dozen eyes focused onto her, each one burning with the knowledge that she was the one who had hurt it long ago. And Arielle knew, in that same instant, that she would not be able to kill this monster, much less drive it away. Still, drawing on the steel in her heart, she pulled herself into combat.
What happened next in that forest is known to very few people, but when Arielle emerged from that forest, she bore a huge wound, running from her eye to her chin, and one of the many heads of the hydra. Telling the villagers that they would no longer need fear it, she threw aside her blade and walked into the nearest temple.
When she returned the next morning, her eyes blazed with new-found faith. She was a changed woman, and upon drawing her sword from the dirt where it lay, she set about her quest with renewed vigour. Her journey from that tiny village took her slowly west, to Bordeleaux, and the tournament being held there.
This was to be her next trial, it seemed, and one that she undertook with a certain amount of reverence. Where once she would have approached it with arrogance, now she donned a helmet, choosing caution instead. Each round was its own challenge for Arielle, each for trained in their own unique fighting style. All fell before her though, each defeated by her own skill and wit, until she was placed into the final round.
Her final opponent was, as she was, hidden behind a helm. And only when she was soundly beaten, did he remove his helm, revealing the Duke of Bordeleaux, who with a hearty smile helped her back onto her feet.
The next few years of Arielle’s questing were relatively quiet, the Lady guiding her slowly, but surely, throughout Lyomesse. She slew monsters, and helped villages, but beyond that, nothing happened. She continued to improve her skills, fighting or duelling virtually everyday. She still never spent more than one night in any one location, and had put aside the offer of a gift from the Duke of Bordeleaux.
Still, all good things come to an end, and so, halfway through her ninth year of questing, she received an extraordinary vision. She saw fire, and death, and a million scales that flashed in the light. And there, between the flickers of a dream, she saw a terrible beast, a dragon, roaring as it stood over a burning village. Unable to ignore such a vision, she awoke, before heading to a village she recognised. The village where she had left her mother behind.
As much as she wished to rush to the village, she had faith that the Lady would not alert her if the situation was immediately dire, and so instead, she started to gather an army. Only once she had recruited several units of men-at-arms, and a trio of trebuchets, did she set out for the village.
The village was already evacuating when Arielle’s pseudo army arrived, the silhouette of the dragon already approaching in the dying light of the setting sun. Having the trebuchets behind a hill, Arielle found herself drawn to the centre of the village. Kneeling down, she planted her sword into the earth, and began to pray. The light of the Lady filled her, and as the dragon landed in front of her, Arielle felt no fear.
For but a brief moment, she and the dragon conversed, before the fight erupted between them. Even as flames spewed from the beast’s mouth, the knight was moving, darting beneath the gout of fire. That fire was also the signal for the trebuchets to begin firing, and even as her sword bounced from the dragon’s scales, the first barrage slammed into the ground around them, one of the huge stones landing a little too close for comfort to her, but another crashing into the left wing of the monster.
Even as it roared in pain, Arielle started to climb up one of its forelimbs. It tried to shake her off, before snapping angrily at her, but the combination of the pain from its wings, and the sheer confusion of the entire situation gave her the precious seconds she needed. Unfortunately, the scales atop the dragon proved no less resistant to her blade, and though she felt the light within her, doubt crept into her mind.
The second hail of boulders rained down upon them, one slamming into the dragon’s back, and as it roared, she saw a weakness. Running up its spine, she leapt forward, clinging to its snout. Now thoroughly dazed by pain, the dragon tried weakly to shake her from its mouth. But it could not, and with little effort, she slid into its mouth, before driving her blade up, through the roof of its mouth.
The dragon did not die quietly, nor slowly. Indeed, it hurt for Arielle to watch the dragon die, even if she knew its intentions. It itself had confirmed as much.
With the deed done, Arielle left the village behind, another vision already granted to her. The next six weeks were spent in the deepest forests of Lyonesse, each step guided by some unseen force through the misty woods. Eventually, she emerged into a clearing, the moon shining overhead, and in the middle, a solitary figure.
The Green Knight.
“None shall pass.”
Three words, filling Arielle with an equal mixture of fear, and awe.
Standing before her, was her final challenge. A tear welled in her eye. Ten long years, ten years of arduous journeying, culminating in this moment.
The fight did not last long.
True sword fights never did.
Arielle stared at that expressionless helm, his blade against her throat. But her blade, crucially, was between the gap in his armour, where the spectral knight’s armpit would have been.
For a moment, he considered her, before lifting his blade from her throat, and walking into the woods. A path, narrow and overgrown, appeared for her.
When Arielle returned to Leucreal, it was not as the young, arrogant teenager she had been. She was a Grail Knight, a chosen of the Lady herself. And her father could not be prouder. Ceding his Duchy to her, he stepped out of the limelight, finally able to pursue a life for himself. And Arielle took to her title like a duck to water.

Year of Birth

387

Circumstances of Birth

Her mother was not a faithful woman, and so her father was a constant unknown. Still, the father she knew was a gentle soul, who treated her as much a princess as he could manage.

Gender

Female

Eyes

Fierce, Emerald

Hair

Honey-Brown, cut short

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Scarred, Tanned

Height

5'8"