Straya The Black Heart
Straya Blackheart of The Cirradrine:
Her’s is one of the elder lineages. The Cirradrine line, it is said, emerged from the shadows cast by the flash of a million stars. Straya was a young and beautiful Cimmerian Maiden when her world came shattering down around her. She had just married her betrothed who was the heir to the Cimmerian Kingdoms and as such, next in line to sit on the throne of the Symbring Council of Twelve. The throne changed hands every 6 years and after an appalling reign just prior, where the rights and freedoms of millions were taken away and those not of Symbring blood was all but enslaved in the elvan realms, a promise of a return to normality shined brightly. The prior leader, refusing to concede the seat of power launched an attack on the Cimmerian. They slaughtered the Symbring of the Cimmerian as they celebrated including Straya's husband and as her city burned she fled with as many of her people as she could. This was accomplished with the help of the only thing that could. Straya, a young and inexperienced sorceress attempted to summon an Archonish Paladin but an error in her casting brought forth into the world a demon. (a Dorrokie War King named...) Without the proper wards in place for such a being, Straya could not control it. It took control of her and possessed her. This did in fact work and thousands of her people escaped through a portal and the world changed forever. Now Straya, who was loving and peaceful, became full of hate and the demon slowly buried her soul and assumed full control. Two generations passed with no sign of Straya as the demon's control over her people grew. A very selective breeding program ensured the power of the Cimmerian would only increase and the reign of terror that followed very nearly destroyed her people. Those that could, escaped creating the Six Cimmerian nations of today and The corrupted bloodlines of those that remained became the Shadow'shar.
Straya’s Tale
Chapter I
Dorrokinal: Conceived in the Blood of Gods
Straya stood before the woman, a deep, stern scowl across her face. The pregnant Shadowsharr priestess of Straya Magnifar, self-proclaimed Divine Queen of all her people, raised her swollen and broken face to eye her mother. She was strapped wrists and ankles to a torcher and execution device known as “The Tree of Truth.” It lives up to its name. This woman is one of Stray's many children; children kept isolated from all others outside of her lineage, and breeding is strictly regulated. The interrogation will only end with the identity of the guilty father, and that end will only come in death. The pain becomes too much, and while she never speaks a name, her eyes tell all. Straya's own followed her gaze and landed on one of her sons. She sadistically thanked her for her honesty, turns back to her daughter, and tells the woman in a low, hushed voice that she had a reward for her truthful answer. She slits her belly open and lifts the now viable and breathing child still covered in her blood before her as her life spells to the earth. The child opens his eyes and looks at his mother squarely. She smiled at him, and as the light of her life dims, she utters and final phrase, "my life for you." The woman lifts her gaze back to her mother and smiles to see the words had their intended result. Straya's eyes burned with rage as she watched the woman take her last breath and death wash over her.
Straya Baby talks to her grandson as she turns from her now-deceased daughter to her other 30 children assembled for this lesson. Baridie, she called out, invoking the name of her son, Identified by the rapidly cooling shell of her daughter, A daughter she once held in high regard. Would you like to meet your son, "Baridie?" she asked, calm down and dripping from each word. The crowd all turned their eyes to the dark elf standing in the back, trying to be inconspicuous. Of all her children, these two were the last she would have suspected of such treachery. "Come forward, Baridie," she called again this time, making eye contact with her enforcers. The elf tried to bolt but tripped over the foot of Tressah, one of Straya's youngest. He fell hard to the black basalt. He cried out as the bone in his right knee cracked on impact; his collapse continued, catching himself with his hands and shattering his wrist, and planting his face on the unforgiving stone. Blood splashed across the paving as his nose and cheek impacted and slid across the rough stone. Hands of iron seized him by wrists and shoulders, and hefted roughly to his feet. His eyes met hers, and the blood ran away from his brain. He began to pass out from the shock and agony of it all. A smashing gauntlet brought him back as blood rush to his shattered cheek.
Straya lifted the child at arm's length, turning him and examining him. She focused her eyes from the baby on a man standing near at hand. She locked eyes with him, and he winced, reflective at the fire burning deep within Her gaze. Straya shook her head, and the scribe scratched something in a massive tome. He returned his eyes to hers and, with a nod, turned and hurriedly walked toward the Castle gate.
Straya turns her attention back to her doomed progeny. "What a waste," she said to nobody and everyone. Cradling the child in one arm, she reached out with her other and gently raised her son's chin. His eyes met hers. Terror, that is what she wanted to see. She smiled at him as he did not disappoint. She dropped his face, and a scowl replaced her smile. "I have these rules in place for a reason," she stated, "our goals depend upon it. By this violation," she turned her eyes back to the elf and in a hushed but harsher voice, "you have set me back by a generation."
A fire flickered in her Stare, and thin red lines like veins began to glow from beneath her flesh. Her hands flamed light molten iron, and heat radiated from her like a furnace. "Your death shall serve as a portent." she raised her unoccupied arm, and it became engulfed in flames. The child in her other began to wail as the fires shrouded him. He was quite safe for now in her grasp, and she glanced at the child, smiled, and reached out her burning hand. With but the slightest of touches, her son burst into flames. The enforcers dropped their charge as agonizing screams erupted from him. Straya Crouched down to make eye contact with her engulfed son enshrouded in the flames that consumed him. She reached out to caress his blistering face and watched his agonized eyes until the light of life left them.
Mental characteristics
Morality & Philosophy
Straya the Black Soul is a pure sadist, sociopath and psychopath. She is happiest inflicting pain. She uses sexuality and psychology to get what she wants and the pain she inflicts is sexually arousing with the shedding of blood and the kill simply orgasmic. This blood lust run completely contrary to the nature of the Elvin race. Elves take killing very seriously with a cast separating those who may kill and all others who won't even acknowledge a killer until they are cleansed. The post killing cleansing ritual is a grueling, painful and time consuming, physical, psychological and spiritual "rebirth". Straya, in contrast, bathes in the blood of her victims and delights in the cries of the tormented. She has a vision of a world in witch her people rule over a population of slaves for the slaughter. She believes only a world of her design is worthy of her presence and anyone or anything that would hinder her in that schema is a existential threat and her greatest enemy.
The queen uses both blood and tortuous killing to maintain a psychological hold on her people and a physical control through division of labor and strict resources.
Relationships
Current Location
Species
Ethnicity
Age
At least 5,000 years but true age is forgotten
Circumstances of Birth
She had a normal birth
Circumstances of Death
Legendary...
Spouses
Ottoa Rohing
(spouse)
Siblings
Children
Gender
Now that is a good question. She is female by birth but now is so much more.
Eyes
Her eyes are the color of polished brass with flecks of orange that flash like tiny embers.
Hair
Her hair is the color of molten brass that glistens in the light like strands of golden silk, with streaks bronze interspersed throughout.
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
She still wears the golden brown hue of her Cimmerian kindred of the time of her birth.
Height
5'2'' but seems much larger when she wishes
Weight
145lbs
Appears in...
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