Princess Ashlyn Alarian
I don't think there's anyone who quite matches up to Ashlyn, honestly. She is the light of my life, and a beacon to so many others.Ashlyn Alarian is an aasimar paladin and Champion of Sarenrae, a former bard, and current heiress to the Aletheian Empire. Though she was born over a thousand years ago in an entirely different time, she has been welcomed into the current Aletheian royal family and considers them the only blood family she has left; Emperor Aneirin 'Cyne' of Aletheia regularly names her as his favourite aunt (often prefixing many a "great-" before that). Ashlyn is engaged to Mery Eventide, and has an adopted daughter in Midna Alarian; though her travels keep her away from them often, they constantly keep in touch via Cyne's Books of Communication. She's firmly on the side of law and justice, and would give anything to defend her friends and fight the forces of evil.
General Physical Condition
Apparel & Accessories
The Lost Princess was an Aletheian myth for years. A mythical princess stolen from her family... I suppose we must all just be glad that one day, she found her way home.
A Long, Long Time AgoIn years long past, Empress Angeline Aletheia and her King Consort, Edward Alarian, were extremely proud to announce the birth of their firstborn daughter. Her name was Ashlyn, and she was perfect to them. Whilst she was never excited to read, she adored her first 'training sessions' where her father would guide her wooden blades, and happily played along with her mother's attempts to teach her how to sing and dance. She was a model princess, obedient yet brave, and stunningly gorgeous even at a young age. As an aasimar, her bloodline hailed back to angels and divine servants, giving her hair a metallic tint and her peachy skin a warm golden shimmer, and her soft voice was enough to melt the heart of any who considered defying her will. She was too young when violence broke out. As she lay in her bed, recovering from a strong bout of flu, assassins struck. The palace was set alight and, in the chaos, her father suffered a blow that left him unconscious and her undefended. She was 11 years old when they took her. A pawn to be used in war, held ransom by the neighbouring nation of Ordan. Her mother was given the choice: her heiress for their surrender. The Empress, with a heavy heart, declined. The princess never would see her home again, but nor would she perish in foreign lands. Time passed, never once touching her. Her cell fell to pieces, taking her memories of home with it, but leaving her free to wander, forever lost, her memories forever fading into oblivion. Or... so it seemed.
Ashlyn: Adventurer, Bard, and Heroine
You know, I didn't expect the random bard that the guard had found to actually be a princess. Let alone my great-great-great-etc aunt.After a string of attempted kidnappings and a flight through Serendel Forest, Ashlyn found herself in Port Amarin at the same time a guard known as Vanbrute Ironbeard was charged with proving his worth by defending the town from smugglers. Her lawful nature prevailed, and she insisted on helping. Her bardic magics proved instrumental in defeating them, and preventing the magical beast they'd brought in from causing further chaos. Her claims of royalty - for though she couldn't remember her family, she knew of her title - intrigued the partly-undercover Lord Cyne Undria, who recruited the fledgling party for a simple bandit infiltration mission to follow up on the smugglers. It was here that she began to shine. Whilst she did suffer serious injuries from simple door traps and a monstrous clockwork zombie abomination, she managed to rescue a sorceress named Mery Eventide from the abuse of a mysterious alchemist known as 'E' and the manipulations of a bandit group known as the Crimson Claw. She also assisted in turning Kazric Szithna, one of the leading bandits, to their side - much to the surprise of Cyne - after viciously executing the dhampir squad leader for his brutal crimes and evil nature. Continuing to help in Port Amarin led them to the Church of All-Worship, where a traumatised samsaran woman told them of a brutal massacre that had occurred inside. Ashlyn led the charge, dragging even the still-evil Kazric along with them. They discovered the captain of the guard, Iryani Lilan, had been chained to an altar and her essence channelled into an evil gemstone that projected a dark antipaladin towards them. The horrifying discovery lead them to a brutal fight in which Kazric gave his life. It was only by virtue of luck that they found a scroll of Reincarnate shortly after the fight, bringing back the drow as a half-orc instead. Afterwards, Ashlyn proudly used the rescue of Captain Lilan to plead for Vanbrute to be freed from his service to return home, leading to an incredibly biased dwarven trial that ended with Vanbrute's freedom... and the death of multiple townspeople. As the judgement was given, a member of the jury - a stunningly beautiful woman named Lady Cedrella Marchelle - threw a fireball into the audience in anger and fled the scene. Mery, who Ashlyn had become steadily closer to, was one of those injured, and gravely so. Whilst she didn't die, narrowly surviving by rite of her draconic bloodline, the close call was enough to terrify Ashlyn. She no longer wanted to sing, dance and perform arcane magic. No, she wanted to be able to protect the ones she cared about, and to wreak vengeance on those who spread evil across the world. As the party bid their farewells to Vanbrute and welcomed a wizard named Pin Whisperbreath to the party, Ashlyn began her training. A paladin of Iomedae named Forgall took her under his wing in the Sylvancliffs, putting her through numerous seemingly-pointless training exercises to hone her will and force her to prove her worth as she suffered the vengeful aftereffects of abandoning the arcane in the form of an oracle's curse. Her training was cut short by an earthquake that tore through the land and a panicked letter from Ilendras informing them of a deadly monster that was slowly killing the land... and all its inhabitants.
Encountering the ShardsThe party raced to Ilendras, swiftly meeting with the Mages Guild present there. Ashlyn was highly suspicious of the guild's secretive leader, Elias, particularly when she used her newfound paladin abilities to detect his evil aura - not that she could do much about it then. The party continued to investigate the strange monstrosity, and regrettably, Ashlyn was left behind when they found the need to descend into the Underdark (as she would have likely tried to murder many of the drow there). When they returned, it was with news that her suspicions had been confirmed: they had needed to rescue Liese Celadrion, sister to partymate Azyel Lathronon, from Elias, and she was furious when he later appeared before their fight against the Gemstone of Life. The fight was rough. The Gemstone manifested as a horrific creature that had been draining souls, and she fought against it with great determination to prevent it from continuing. When Sarenrae, her goddess, had blessed her as her Champion, she had been delighted - and also accepting of her duty. When they fought the gemstone, the first glimmers of that duty began to manifest. In the aftermath, when they were transported to the realm of Death herself, Ashlyn was ecstatic to be able to meet a genuine angel. Her inner light was strong enough that he noticed and praised her, even gifting her with a feather of his own for her to draw on in times of need, and her faith pure enough that Pharasma felt it safe to trust them with the truth of the artifacts that had drawn them into her domain - and with a mission to find and destroy them before the forces of evil could utilise them.
Accomplishments & Achievements
Failures & Embarrassments
Morality & Philosophy
Savvies & Ineptitudes
Likes & Dislikes
Virtues & Personality perks
Vices & Personality flaws
Hobbies & Pets
Towards Ashlyn Alarian
Towards Emperor Aneirin 'Cyne' of Aletheia
Nicknames & Petnames
He tends to call her 'grandmother' and similar family-based nicknames.
Ashlyn doesn't approve of his methods. But still loves him as family. Cyne doesn't care for her fervent religiousness, nor does he care so much about the law. And he finds her naive & paranoid nature to be endlessly amusing. However, he admires her might in battle and ability to uphold the law no matter what, and essentially views her as another sibling (given their similar mental ages).
Towards Ashlyn Alarian
Towards Cid La Flaga
Wealth & Financial state
"I am Ashlyn Alarian, chosen of Sarenrae. Shield to those who can not defend themselves. I have naught much else to say." To which the Emperor smiled and asked "We know not how long you may be gone or if you will return, what does this mean for you and your family?" "I go happily knowing I may never return and I leave them knowing that they have a home and will never wander and be lost. Knowing this I go to try and save the world and possibly die happily knowing that not all I have done was futile."It was then the Emperor that smiled and revealed that in the rafters hidden behind an Illusion was a sizable council to whom he asked their judgement, they deemed us worthy and thus we sat down and enjoyed a nice dinner together.
Letter to Lord Andron
An old man with fierce blue eyes ringed in gold sits atop a throne, a rough eyebrow raised in question at the aristocratic woman before him. As her eyes flash blood-red, the vision vanishes. Golden desert sands fill your view as an orc woman, body mostly crafted of rough metal cybernetics, plunges a gauntlet-clad hand through the heart of a tall, dark-skinned figure bearing a series of dotted tattoos. As she wrenches it out, a glimpse of something blacker than night comes into view for a millisecond before the scene changes. Deep water surrounds you, its inky blackness only penetrated by the blank white stare of a blue-skinned woman who, to Ashlyn, seems strangely familiar. As a tentacle wraps around her extended limb, you're taken away, and thrown into a maelstrom of images. Armies clashing upon a battlefield, their banners – of which you count at least four separate factions - stained in blood. A darkened tower upon a desolate plain, wrapped in black fire that pushes up against an invisible shield... that buckles and cracks against the pressure. A great storm of winds and water, descending on the lands and devastating all in its path. A young girl with hair like fire, her skin patterned with turquoise runes, rummaging around in her mother's Bag of Holding and collapsing as the runes seem to react to something within. A black-haired man in a foreign land, kissing the hand of an ethereal beauty as a blade finds its home within his back. A small woman wearing stress upon her face holding two small children, each with pointed ears and slight tusks, against her. The clash of two blades in a seemingly endless expanse of black, furious white eyes meeting fanatical red. A roar echoes through the mindscape as their blades meet, rumbling through your very souls – and you can feel the change in vision this time. A teenaged girl, clad in pink, her golden hair matted and face stained with tears, falling unconscious in the arms of a man with the gleaming face of a golden dragon. An older ratfolk woman placing her wrist in a machine and looking out across the skies as electricity crackles around her. A young elven girl placing a bouquet of nightshade atop a freshly-buried grave before an older girl roughly yanks her away. And, finally, an aasimar woman laughing as she carefully arranges the corset of her clearly-annoyed older brother – who appears to be dressed in a gorgeous ballgown.To say the least today was incredibly exciting. It began with a vision of the past and future. Of people I've known once and people I haven't yet met. Though my friends were annoyed I feel as though we had the best possible ending to the events that transpired this day. Firstly, a Thunderbird caused a bit of a ruckus outside town. I know them to live near waterfalls and that they are good omens, so naturally excited to see one. My companions were also excited, so much so that Cid threatened to make it his "bitch" so that he try and tame it I believe. I did my best to calm the Thunderbird. Of course it wasn't a simple task. An ancient Magma Dragon had become excited by the Volcanic eruption that had been caused by our battle in the under dark. We teleported over to speak to the Dragon and learned that he was simply enjoying the explosive nature of the event. I could feel the desire to battle this ancient beast emanating from my companions, but thankfully I was able to talk them down using my crown that informed us that only woe would come from combating the Dragon. As we left the Dragon declared that it knew we were champions shocking most of the my friends. Now here is where hell began for me. I have become even more terrified for those I love. There was a being impersonating and kidnapping and replacing Mery for an unknown period of time. There was one upside to it all, I learned that I can trust Cid completely. The moment I began to act he assisted me as best he could, though I had no intention to hurt her as long as she complied Cid rushed to help me defeat my foe. However, Cyne threw himself in my way, either he doubted my resolve or he knew some secret I know naught of. I know naught which is worse, but he has once again insulted my honor. It hurts to know mine own blood has no faith in me. I believe I will have to ask Mery what she thinks we should do about this fake that has been taking her place. If it were my choice I would hide her away in the palace, but I feel that her and Midna would only feel like birds in a gilded cage. How I wish that times were safer so that I could settle down and live with them. I wish we had met a hundred years earlier during my wanderings, we could have lived a peaceful life together. I should hire a tutor to teach Midna some self defense. Possibly hire them both a body guard. Ill consult Mery and Midna about how they feel about this. I believe I'll send a letter to Lord Andron asking for consul, he is a Steward after all I'm sure he can provide some wisdom or references. I hope he does not think me an inconvenience.
MOTHER’S LETTER For my Dearest Ashlyn, From the moment you were born, we loved you. My pregnancy was quite unwelcomed by many in the Empire, who questioned me for becoming pregnant during a war, but your father and I deemed it worth it. We wanted you, my child. When you opened sky-blue eyes and laughed up at us, your skin radiant, your touch warm and welcoming, we could do nothing but fall for you. Wed feared that youd be born a human, losing the angelic heritage both your father and I hold dear, yet you displayed its hallmarks from your very first hour. I took time away from my work as Empress to raise you; your father did similar. We wanted you to know us, to learn to love us, and we wanted to teach you so much - I showed you the way of the harp, the violin, the piano, and your father taught you how to trick the servants and tease your playmates. No matter what we taught, though, you were always quite independent - you snuck into the kitchens, once, taking a frying pan and using it against a boy whod made one of your friends cry. You were only 4 years old at the time, and your father was incredibly proud. He swore hed teach you how to use it properly when you were older, alongside other blades, and Id always thought he meant when youd reached adulthood until I walked in upon him putting you in a small suit of armour, looking like it belonged to a halfling, at age 7. You were so happy in it. Whilst you spent time bonding with your father via the blades and via tricks, I tried to teach you some of the finesse of conversation and political situation at the time, about the wars and struggles we faced. It was not pleasant to put this on a child. But you were my child, and you needed to be prepared for the worst. You always stayed so positive and idealistic about it, swearing that youd stop them for us - we had no idea what was coming. It is my fault we lost you. It is my fault that the assassins were able to break in - our palace was recovering from a bout of illness, and we were short on guards, yet I didnt think to ensure your safety above heirlooms and artefacts. They took you, wounded your father and set off explosives. So many of our servants perished in the fires – your nursemaid, my ladies-in-waiting, our kitchen staff... it was horrible, and yet I had never felt more pain than realizing that you were gone. Our Lady's blessing restored your father, but no magic could locate you. We turned to desperation, calling in wizardry and sorcery for assistance, to little avail. It was after a year, soon after what would have been your 12th birthday, that I received a letter bearing the mark of Ordan. They had you. They included a picture – you were skinny, underfed, but alive. Your beautiful hair had been pulled back and they were keeping you in the clothes of a peasant, no sign of finery nor armour, but you werent harmed. They demanded that we surrender our borderlands to them for your safe release and return. They wanted land closer to Gothadrun, allegedly. Giving them access to our borderless southern coast would have spelt war for our homeland, however. I couldnt risk it. Thousands of lives hung in the balance. We declined, and never saw you again. It has been fifty long years since then, with not a sound. We crushed Ordan's attempt at an attack, and demanded information from those we captured – nothing. Fifty years. You have two siblings, now. Arthur and Celia. Arthur is taller, his build resembling your fathers, but he favours debates and politics over the blade. His smile has aspects of yours, and his personality– oh, if youd grown up together, youd be almost inseparable. Hes just as positive and driven as you always were, and as the elder of the two, will carry that flame on to lead the nation one day. Celia, meanwhile, is so unlike you – shes a scholar, intrigued by the world and desperate to know all there is, but fearful of brawls. I will always love you, Ashlyn. You were my precious daughter and heiress, and it pains me greatly to write this—you deserved a life so much better than what you were given. I can only hope that you passed peacefully and without much pain. Goodbye, my sweetest child. Love, Your mother, Empress Angeline Aletheia of the Aletheian Empire ((ooc:This fuckin letter makes me tear up holy shit Han g fuckin g.))
FATHER’S LETTER Dear Ashlyn, Im not one for words, unlike your mother. My place is on the battlefield. I trust that shes written enough for both of us by now, anyway. You have been, and will remain, my angel. When things get tough, I think of you, your mother, your siblings, and it's enough to give hope, to help us fight past any breaking point. The Lady Sarenrae may have only blessed us with your presence for 11 years, but those years were wonderful, and Ive missed you every day since. I refuse to believe youre truly gone. We never saw your body, and Ordanians wouldnt kill a child. So, to you, my little angel, I leave this amulet. If you are miraculously alive, its function will reveal itself to you when the time is right. But even without the magic, it should remind you of us. Remind you of your real home. I can only hope that you'll find this and be able to use it one day. I love you, Ashlyn. Goodbye, with the ever-burning hope that we'll meet again. Your father, King Consort Edward Alarian of the Aletheian Empire, High Commander and General of the Kingsguard.
LETTER OF INVITATION Dearest Lady Alarian of the Everflame, Your recent defeat of the beast threatening Serendel Forest and assistance in Port Amarin, Ilendras and the Sylvancliffs have created for you a fearsome reputation as a warrior of the light, a fair paladin of your Goddess. It is due to these exploits that we cordially invite you and a guest of your choosing to the annual Starswept Masquerade Ball at the Moonlit Palace, on the final day of Autumn - the 31st of Lamashan. The celebrations will begin at 4pm, and will continue until 2am. Lodgings, if necessary or requested, will be provided to you at the Palace. This year, the ball will be themed around the colours of Winter itself, as we say farewell to the remnants of Autumn's warmth and welcome the cool touch of Winter - please wear formal attire in a pleasing blend of the following colours, using cool tones only: Blue, white, silver, green, pink, purple, red, cream and brown. We also request that you wear a mask to fit our theme; professional craftsmen will be available if you so require them. The Ball is strictly weapons-free, though you may store your weapons on the premises, and due to your deitys gifts, we must also request that you do not use your powers at the Ball unless directly bidden by the Lady Sarenrae herself or in defence of the Realm. We hope to see you there! On a more personal note, Lady Alarian. We have heard through our son, Cyne, that you are considered a Princess; however, we are not aware of the nature of your royalty. Due to your status as one of the Lady Sarenraes favoured Champions, a Hero of the Forests and as one born of celestial blood, this must be discussed in person. Upon arrival in Undria, if you so choose to attend the Ball, please visit the Palace, as we have much to discuss. If you are indeed one of our family, or of similar stature, then there is some important information you need to know. Yours sincerely, Lord Andron of Undria, Duke of the Undric Region, Steward of Aletheia and Prince of the Empire.