|Name||Queen of Baron
Queen of Blood
The Mournful Blade
The Raven Goddess
|Hair Color||Dark Green|
|Occupation||Queen of Baron
Dutchess of House Bloodraven
|Partner||King Guthrie Laoghaire|
|Base of Operations||Palace of Baron|
|Family||Aeron Bloodraven (Brother)
Agrona Bloodraven (Sister)
Epona Bloodraven (Niece)
|Primary Job||Dark Knight|
Regal, calm, powerful, Damara takes pride in her noble blood, holding an air of emenating power and control. Using this sense of dignity to her advantage, playing out debates and using her skills in converse to keep up with the political agendas of her equals and inferiors.
Immensely popular admist the common folk themselves, Damara seeks to keep the stance of a benevolent, but strong willed ruler. To hold the peace but always further the cause of Baron as a whole itself first and foremost. Damara seeks to play a more pivitol role in relations with other nations, acting as an ambassador of sorts in times of international crisis in place of the King or for her own family.
Strongest among the Dark Knights, she wields unparalleled power and influence. Reknowned throughout Baron for her unquantifiable strength, and control over Elder and Black magics has earned her the title of The Mournful Blade, a legacy of Dark Knights being born from her leadership. Fighting on the battlefields fronts, Damara leads her armies under a blood red standard, emblazoned with the crest of the Ravenhold. With her stance, and her prowess in battle, Damara has the undying loyalty of the Raven Legions as well as the many armies in Baron.
A forerunner of Baron itself, the former Countess never backs down from a threat. Whether internal, external, or the King himself. Knowing well herself the laws of Baron, embodying it, she refuses to allow his personal desires influence the destiny of the strong nation. Knowing well that strength is indeed the key to power, she seeks to counter act the darkness that she is sure Guthrie will plunge their realm into for his selfish obsessions.
Hate Breeds HateEdit
In the darkness of Baron, deep within the realm... the Royal Houses vied for the throne. Whitetail, Empirus, and many others were all seeking to obtain the seat for the throne once their king died. The time for his death was nearing... everyone could sense it. The civil war was already formed from the peasants, and the chaos that ensued afterwards was paramount. The lives of the current King and Queen was in jepordy, and no matter how well the Royal Houses disguised it... all seeked to fill his place.
Bloodraven was no exemption, and the Count and Countess of the Ravenhold had given birth to a pair of twins, Aeron Bloodraven, and Damara Bloodraven. They would be the ones to obtain the throne... preparing themselves for the future, they provided them both with care. Raising them with a single thought in mind: To bring Baron back to it's former glory..." the children at a young age were put through physical stress, engaging them to manifest magical abilities early on. This would later produce trauma on their minds, particularly her brother, Aeron. Removing their emotions, they began to act as heartless beings... moving forward only to project the future they desired. As well, a bitter rivalry formed inbetween the twins...
Their attempts were not unnoticed, however, and a house sent out an assassin to the Ravenhold. This assassin would be astonished to find that his targets were the two children, and not the current countess and count. Killing children... the assassin felt his honor wane, knowing now... that the entirety of Baron was in flux... and good from the land was finally gone.
Drawing his blade, he prepared to slay the twins in their sleep. But as he pulled his sword back, the thunk thunk sound filled the air. Raising his brow, he glanced over his shoulder, two wooden darts in his back, bleeding from two arrow wounds... realizing that he had been played, he pulled back the covers to find nothing more then a stuffed blanket...
The guards had been slain on the way. The security had been poor at best. And now he knew why... seeing the children in the dark corner of the room, crossbows cocked and armed for another strike. His contract wasn't even real. Putting the pieces together, the assassin realized too late that there was no rival house that seeked this children dead yet, or atleast had the gall to hire someone to eliminate them. Bloodraven itself had hired him, under an alias, he was sure...
But to what ends?
And as two more bolts flew across the room, preparing to end his life. He had his answer. Bloodraven was culling the weak, and the twins were about to pass their test.
Early Leadership, Forcing Her HandEdit
It didn't take long for their parents to install them into the Dark Knights, undeterred by the fact even though they were much younger then the usual candidates. Death was likely, failure seemed immenant. However, both Aeron and Damara knew that the task ahead was to bring Bloodraven into power, and they initiated into the fold of the Dark Knights at the young age of fifteen.
Aeron would first take the Rite of the Vessel, physically stronger then his sister, bulkier in build, for someone his age, her twin brother was a behemoth amidst his peers. Damara following suit, to the astonishment of the House and to Aeron himself.
Aeron took pleasure seeing his sister choose the same path in which he took. Aeron was no fool, and realized the potential threat that Damara she herself would become. Only one could ascend the thrones, dark thoughts filled his mind. Above all else, Aeron was corrupted at birth, he hungered for power. Attention, and fame meant nothing to him. He needed to rule, and his sister was the only thing standing in his way.
Damara saw straight through him.
Through the emotional facades, they both strove to outdo one another. Training hard, not only to ensure their vision... but to ensure that Baron was secure from the failures of the Laoghaires. Deep hate filled their bodies, their minds racing every minute of every day formulating their dreams. Hearing the shouts of their commanding officers, they dropped down the ground countless days, doing an ungodly amount of exercises. Through it all, Damara would require the least amount of magical reinforcement. Her will pulled her forward, and despite her reserves of mana, she never once dove into them for support. The pain was her only friend. Though many saw it as weakness leaving the body, that was not true to her.
Pain was her ally, it told her body when it had reached it's limits. Warning her that the end was near, she knew that it helped her. Through the shouts and yells, through the cold calculative stairs, she passed every test that her superiors made her go through. Bloody, sweaty, angry tears, the heiress to the Bloodraven never faltered. She was quiet and unerring, and when failure seemed likely... when all others seemed to outdo her, to push her down... Damara shoved them back in the best way possible.
Proving them all wrong. The words, "Go to hell." were words all too familiar with her, and she threw them to those that disbelieved her strength.
After two years... Damara had proven her ability to pass the rite, physically stronger though Aeron may have been. Her willpower was undeniable, and her preseverence lead to her strength. She crushed the competition, quelled the weakness in her body, and she was ready for the next step. But matters occuring within her house postponed it momentarily...
Ravenhold were about to lose their headship. Her father was falling ill, and someone was going to take his place, Damara hoped that her mother would be the placeholder till she finished her training. Words of anguish filled the letter, personally written from her mother... she knew that her mother was unfit for duty in holding the Raven Legions under her command.
That place would fall to Agrona Bloodraven, but for now... she had to take role as countess. Returning to Ravenhold, she took the time to sign all the official papers, obtaining the signet ring of rulership...
It would be too much for Aeron once he heard. Angry that he had been unalerted, that the sole factoring difference in who was ruler of the Ravenhost was a difference in a few seconds of birthing. Filled with an unholy rage, Aeron stormed to his sister upon her return, challenging her to a duel to the death. The battle would be unlived, the superiors declaring that the rite of such a challenge was only available to those that completed the rest of the rites.
Family No MoreEdit
Aeron and Damara no longer believed that the ties of family dictated allegiance to each other. The bond of blood was broken, and Aeron could not be convinced to quell his anger, his thirst to grant his King and Queen glory. To prove that the Ravenhost was the symbol of Baron, that he would obtain true victory for his rulers. But his sister... was not so easily fooled.
She knew that Baron was in for tough times... the Countess of Bloodraven prepared herself for the coming future. It was not long before she took on the Rite of the Spirit, taking the least amount of time for the young woman, she shaved off the usual period of training. A prodigy with magical arts when pressured in combat, she held a control over it, infusing Aether into her body. She pushed herself to the edge, and her physical body was honed to protect herself from any damage her Elder Magic may have dealt to her own body. Toying with Black Magic as well in these years, Damara was unafraid of the consequences of practicing the arts.
Knowing that to truly rule, that playing with fire is inevitable, but sacrifices must be made. Pain was a sign of evolution. And she was evolving into the next stage in her life... to lead Bloodraven. To protect Baron with all her heart. Damara paid the price for her powers and skills... determining that she must pass all the rites in order to ensure the strength of her family. That way she would never be doubted...
That way, when the raven's shadow was cast over the earth, that the guilty would cower in fear. That the proud nation would stand strong behind her, and behind it's King and Queen in turn. Never to fall prey to weakness as it was now...
It was on the day she passed the Rite of the Sorcerer that she determined that her nation's protection and safety was her only goal. To uphold it's beliefs, it's ideas, and to embody it's future.
Banner of the Bloodraven Rises HighEdit
Over the many years that followed, Damara would achieve and accel past all the Rites involved in becoming a Dark Knight. Insueing this path, she sacrificed an unknowable amount of time in channeling her powers. Never once giving up on training and becoming the best she could for Baron. Strained beyond her breaking points, Damara bears physical and mental scars over the years she trained.
Even being the first to train directly under the Dark Knight Primearch, his name... was Anmir the Deathblow. the one who held command over the contingents. And despite how well grouped the military of Baron may have been, they still could become free agents. They were not bound to serve Baron... and if one were to went rogue, they could break the chain of command. They could dissolve the order, the cycle of law and life within the nation.
Damara sought to continue training under this man. To recieve all tutelage she could.
However, time was not on her side... the kingdom of Baron was about to be under siege, from within. The favored house of Baron, the House Crestfall, was preparing for war. And it had came... launching a full on assault against the other houses, the armies of Crestfall marched strong across the land, heading to the capital city of Durnakh, undeterred. Crestfall was reknowned for it's massive military force, and it's collective of dangerous mages, many within the house themselves were extremely talented Arcanists and Black Mages.
The threat was clear, and war was being waged. The surprise preemptive strike had given the 'favored' house the chance to take as many outposts and keeps in a short period of time... giving them the advantage. And on the way to Durnakh, it was the next target.
Ravenhold... culls...Gathering the Raven Legions, at the time... only numbering in the thousands, paling in comparison to the fury of the legions that Crestfall held under their sway. It was even rumored that many powerful dark knights and dragoons had joined the ranks of the usurpers. They were marching straight for the capital, resting for but a day per siege. The war would be short lived... for if Durnakh fell, Ravenhold would be pulled to kneel under a false king and queen. And Aeron and Damara would not stand for it...
Aeron joined her, hearing the call. The screech of the Raven House called out for blood. Retrieving all villagers out of the way while they could, Damara made ready her mind and body. Together, the siblings would put aside their differences. They were about to be put to the test. Baron would prove itself weak if they failed, and she would not let her House fall to the likes of Crestfall.
The odds against them, both Damara and Aeron pushed their armies to the front lines of Durnakh, preparing a defensive hold. Digging in their heels, their divisions set to hold and not move. Even the grand gates of Durnakh itself were sealed shut. Leaving it so that the Raven Legions had no where to run to but the walls.
"We will not run! We will cull the weak! Ravenhost, we will devour the wicked! Stand your ground, prepare to be reborn, for this day... we emerge from the weakness of our past, and we carve away Baron's evil!"
These words rang true, and the legions raised the banners of the Bloodraven. Fires were lit, mages readied at the back. Only Dark Knights and Fighters headed the front lines, with other provisional melee ranks. Mounted with steeds, and a few behemoths... they watched as the legions numbering hundreds of thousands marched to the front doors of Baron's Crown City.
"We shall not be victims today! Crestfall, we do not feel fear! Before you die, I grant you the honor of a quick defeat!" Damara readied her blade, with Aeron by her side... he nodded to her. Charging forward, Damara on foot, Aeron on his void black steed. They gladly took the first move... turning the defensive hold, into an offensive charge. "Victory through death!"
The Culling had begun.
Never would one see such violence as they did that day. Bodies fell to the ground, the banners of Crestfall flapping in the winds, pitted against the lone Bloodraven Host, preventing their entry to remove the King and Queen from their frail leadership. Aeron leaped off his mount, beheading many Dark Knights that had once been his fellows, tearing them apart. It was as if the ocean had focused it's full power against a tiny anthill, and he was drowning them in the blood of their brothers and sisters.
Damara followed suit, casting Warp to vanish across the field in a heartbeat. All her powers coming together at once, peeling away the life of as many mages as she could. One down, ten down, twenty down, a hundred down... so many fell at her feet. Causing the very magical energies that the mages relied on so much, to be their undoing. Detonating the rows of mages, bringing murder to the masses. She was unphased, splashing the mounted fighters that challenged her with blasts of electrical and fiery Black Magic, their armor only proved to be against them, melting them, scorching them alive within the protective casings.
And as the brunt force of Crestfall attempted to dominate Bloodraven... it was proving difficult, if not impossible. The aggresive defense was perfect. The strategies that the Ravenhost were implamenting far out did Crestfalls own, they were targeting the weak points of their invasion, and causing that weakness to spread... melting away the front lines.
The Raven Legions became impassable. And as they attempted to push forward with additional forces, calling in the siege weapons to break down the back of the defense, it would be too late. Aeron and his forces met the bombardiers with the full fury of the Vessel, destroying the siege engines with his own hands, fighting the creatures that may have been they themselves the weapons, or carrying them. Burning the trebuchets, bastilas, and catapults with a magical siege of their own.
The Siege of Durnakh was quickly turned around. Damara at the head quickly made way to the commanding officers in the back, slicing through the weakness that Crestfall had so easily allowed. They were ill-prepared. The concept that their numbers would overpower her fully trained and realized army was a foolish thought. The armies of Crestfall quickly retreated, fear entering the hearts of the divisions they commanded, all was lost. The attempt to sack the kingdom was ending in failure. And now, their lives were to pay.
With the retreat of Crestfalls Armies, Bloodraven claimed victory. Cheering loud chants, battle cries went through the air. And the entire city of Durnakh would look out and see what Damara had brought, with Aeron as her hand. Stomping their feet, clanging their shields and weapons, they let out a cry so loud the clouds parted way. All would know today who saved the lives of those within...
And as Aeron looked to the capital, he raised his sword. Damara looked onward to her destination... the House of Crestfall. To eliminate the threat once and for all. Punishment would be dealt out, and Baron would continue to root out the evil in the lands. Damara realized now that the nation had became weak through it's leadership, and now all would fear the very banners that held the crest of the blood soaked raven.
"Victory! Ahroo! Ahroo! Ahroo!" The Culling War was going to come to a close...
And on that day, Damara with her host went to Crestfall, letting Aeron and his contingents stay behind to protect King and Queen Laoghaire personally. With her remaining forces, she went to the city of Crestfall itself, armed to the teeth with an empowered fervor. She made her way into the inner keep, charging forward with the strongest of her armies, allowing her officers to command the invasion from outside.
They would make the surrender quick, so no more of her own men's lives would be wasted.
Marching inside, with but a total of four other of her best Dark Knight comrades, she charged into the inner sanctum of Crestfall, to meet the Count and Countess and force an early surrender and a stop to the sieges all over the other territories of Baron.
Bringing her blade up, she was surprised to see what lay in her way.
Duel of Fates, Defeating the PastEdit
Damara's eyes decieved her, how could this be? How could this ever have occured to her? Standing infront of the thrones of the count and countess of Crestfall, was her mentor and the leader of the Dark Knights himself, Anmir the Deathblow. The strongest of all her brethren, she herself had been tutored and trained under him for many years.
He was the only one in her way.
Anmir stood still in his pale armor, unphased by her entry. He knew why she was here, and he had made sure to take the precautions of protecting the usurpers who had began the coup. Looking to Damara, he awaited her outburst. Knowing too well that the bond between them would be severed the moment the fight engaged.
"How could you do this Anmir?" shock wracked her body, and her fellows readied their blades... Anmir looked at her through his visor, his bulky gear seemed too heavy for one mortal to support. But Aeron was a living testiment to the might of the Vessel. Anmir's strength, intelligence, and power was monumental. All of Baron heard his name, all held him in high respects, even the current King and Queen.
But now... that reality was blown apart. Anmir replied, more so out of courtesy, to ease her mind. The truth would ring true this night. He knew that corruption stemmed from the superiors, but coddling it with security and protection would not change it... it would only ensure it's survival. No, the only way to remove corruption was to cut off it's head. "Cutting off the head of the snake itself. Baron is in shambles, our appointed King and Queen are dragging us down with them. We need strong leaders, and House Crestfall can obtain that vision. Damara, you know well enough that weakness has seeped into every single resident of the Veil. It's a curse that can't be removed unless everything is erased and rewritten."
These words shook Damara, it was a power play with words supplying justification. Hesitation was in her hands, and she felt the first tears of mixed emotion, sorrow and anger, "Anmir, you damned bastard! You stupid, pigheaded fool! You taught me that weakness must be culled, but we do not allow madness to take over our thoughts! This is insane Anmir, we are to abide and embody the law!" His very actions made all of Baron look weak...
Hate fueled every cell in her body, her aura aflame with newfound energy. Accepting the fact that this man was now her enemy. That one of the few people that had earned her respect was now going to meet her blade.Anmir rolled his shoulder, drawing his large claymore and placing the tip on the ground, holding the base at his palm, waiting for her to make the first move. "Make your move Damara. I have already made mine, and nothing is going to change either of our decisions."
Damara felt her body quake with new potential, dropping her visor down for the battle. Aether surged within and around her, drawing her wicked snaked claymore, she warped forward, casting a spell straight before hand. A flurry of thoughts, with undeniable control, she performed the combination flawlessly. Her movements exploded with energy, blade dancing around the throne room. Followed suit by her comrades, they made their way to the fray.
Anmir was no petty foe, and his giant blade collided directly into the first strikes that Damara sent. Parrying them, he grasped the Aether around him with a titanic grip, drawing fiery energy into his palms, superheating the air infront of him. The super heated aether lit aflame, and the dangerous Fira spell went outward. All of the Dark Knights splayed out in different directions, evading the barrage of magical fire.
Never had Damara faced such an advesary, the man brought down a barrage of attacks, perfect strokes of his might blade, baring down on them. A wild animal, they had no where to go but to fight him head on. Her comrades prepared a coordinated attack, launching a barrage of icey bolts to halt his steps. The man broke the blitzkrieg of icicles with little more then a whim, unleashing a wave of torrenting fire around him, consuming the area.
Damara felt the heat on her armor, felt the kinetic force, the sheer pressure her mentor continued to bring down on them. It was astonishing how well the leader of the Dark Knights fought. Watching the intensity of the fight, Anmir pulled his arm vertically backwards, and brought it down. Swinging his weapon with such force that her ally that dared attempt to deflect the blow was crushed beneath it's weight. True to his name... Deathblow.
The fall of her ally drove her allies into a frenzy, thrusting their blades forward, each of them spraying down black magic on him. Damara herself whipped her weapon across her body, a spinning motion giving the snaked claymore the blow enough force to knock back Anmir. Damara did not stop there, preventing his retaliation, she and her men brought cascading slashes and stabs.
Anmir deflected as many as he could, enduring the many blows. His countless years of training provided him the endurance to take on this group of skilled men and women, all whom he had seen train... his pride swelled, feeling that Damara was on par with his own skills.
Death would be his victory. Either hers, or his own.
Gripping his weapon with two hands, he performed a reverse-horizontal strike, taking the two immediate Dark Knights by surprise, slashing them through the armor, and sending them flying across the ground. Alive, bleeding out, and now out of the fight.
All that stood in his way, was Damara and the remaining Sorcerer Knight.
The Sorcerer Knight prepared words of arcane intent, his body glowing a sickly cyan color, phasing into his body. Anmir felt his life energy being drained into the figure, pulling his strength forcefully out of him. Damara took her chance, watching as Anmir was weak for the moment, she prepared to decapitate the man before her, giving Anmir the final rite in death. Honor, and quick.
It was met with Anmir's own blade, bringing his weapon up to clash with her own. Locking blades, he gripped her hand with his monsterous grip, gauntlet squeezing tight. Anmir began to laugh with a malicious rasp, energy was gathering around them. "All this residual Aether..." glancing directly through his visor to meet Damaras own. Not letting go. Aether began to surge in the room, wafting around them. The magical life force was beginning to vibrate at levels Damara had never seen before.
Anmir knew was going to die, but he was not going to let it be for nothing. "I am proud to have seen you grow strong. And I am I honored to die with you, Damara. Life is not an option anymore, Baron is ruined... and if the vision of Cresfall must fade, so too shall you." Anmir was preparing to unleash the channeled might of a focus Mana Void.
"I am sorry Anmir, but you are wrong." suddenly, his vision grew blurry, shadows danced across his sight. Blots of ink filled his head, blood seeping from his mouth. While he had prepared the spell for the final piece, she had cast a spell known only to the mightiest of Arcanists and Dark Knights...
Blood exploded from his lips, pooling out of his helmet's visor and every joint and opening in his armored shell dripped the red liquid. And with this, Damara whispered her final words to Anmir, "I am sorry old friend... rest well. I will bring Baron back to it's glory, I promise." letting go of the locked hold, she grasped his hand from hers, letting him drop to the floor.
"Die in peace knowing your vision will come true."
The words bore no falsehood, Damara looked to her surviving knights, and to the Count and Countess, who had watched the entire event before them from the farest area from the door way, on their thrones. Unphased by the events, they held no guilt to see the symbol of the Dark Knights die for them. They did not respect him or his dream, all they wanted was power. Damara pointed her weapon to them both, "You are now prisoners of House Bloodraven for treason, and multiple war crimes against Baron and it's capital, Durnakh. You are given the right of fair trial for your sins, and you will be punished accordingly after your sentence has been dealt." "As well, I require you bring your armies to an immediate surrender, lest you meet an early sentencing..."
And on that day, Damara felt the pain she had never felt. The death of a mentor, the fall of the Dark Knights. Weakness had been culled, and though the ways to obtain the vision that Anmir had taken were wrong, they rang true. Baron was weak, and it needed to be renewed in the image it once held. No more dissidence, no crime, nor sin would exist here. It would be cut off and burned. House Bloodraven had it's new purpose, bringing Baron to it's rightful place in the order of the world, a symbol of power, of perfect order.
Despite the events that occured that day, Damara would never speak of her battle with Anmir, declaring her an honorable man in which she would not pit her voice against, even though his weakness had broke his rationality. She would not sully the vision he, and she wished to come true just so it could be put on legal papers to declare the events that took place.
In this turn of events, and returning to the Capital of Durnakh, Damara was given leadership over the Dark Knights for her deeds that day, in defending the crown. With this action given, the Countess of Ravenhold earned her title, the Mournful Blade, and would lead the generations of Dark Knights into a brighter future in which they would be united, not divided by house and ambitions.
A single, united Baron, all Houses serving loyally under the King and Queen.
Bethrothal of Guthrie, Time for ChangeEdit
Claymore of the Raven GodEdit
Curved and winding like a serpent, the claymore steined black with the blood of countless lives it has taken. Tempered with hate and the desire to slay, the claymore has been passed down since the founding of the Bloodraven themselves. And despite the noble blood that Ravenhold now possesses, in ancient times, far before Sin came to use in the Machina Wars, the weapon was wielded by warriors of the Bloodraven Clan. Worshipping countless deities, but above all else was the Raven God itself. Believing that if the being they worshipped would ever journey into their realm, they carved it a weapon for it to wield while on their plane. Made from the finest materials, the weapons power is not measured by magical might, but the ability to unlock it's users killer instinct.
Hand of Anmir, DeathblowEdit
Forged and tempered with the aid of Pyreflies, Deathblow was constructed from the finest craftsmen in Bevelle and Kehacec, the capitals of Troia and Damcyan alike. Anmir required the perfect weapon in which he could wield on the battlefield. The weapon's immense weight requires the strongest of Dark Knights to hold, magically enhanced, it imprints the user with the power to build up kinetic energy in turn for a concentrated strike. In which Deathblow would later be reknowned, using the weapon alone, he could fend off a flurry of attacks. Deathblow absorbing kinetic energy, it only grew stronger the harder one proceeded to hit it. This energy stored, it allows the user to unleash it's energy in a aether slash. Damara having taken the weapon after claiming victory over Anmir, she wields this blade as well as her Claymore when entering a battlefield.