Character OTS


Björn & Lirr

Couple OTS


Arête Spyridon
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  • OOC Name: Randalin
  • Total Posts: 17 (Find All Posts)
  • Rank: Arrhule Commoner
  • Age & Season: 8 (Winter ❅)
  • Species Equine
  • Lineage: Settler
  • Height: 17.2hh
  • Sex: Mare
  • Crystals: 295
  • Tag: @[Arête]


Mate: Tetsuo, murdered; Valor, missing
Offspring: Waeyr, murdered, Davri, My light in the darkness, Nimue, My hope in the shadows

She smells of a pitch black winter's night wrapped in a layer of smoke; the coldest of flames.

Face and Voice Claim: Jaime Murray

Outpost Items



Her build comes from a mix of Warlander and Rocky Mountain Horse blood, leaving her muscular and beautifully structured. Her pelt is blue-black all over with the exception of where it reaches her muzzle fading into a pinkish-grey as well a pale crescent moon on her right shoulder. She also bears under each eye two silver dots broken up by a marking similar to a canine tooth and followed by a third silver dot. A line of four grey-white horns marches down her face with shortest two serving as start and finish and half circles cut out of the middle (and larger) two. Her mane and tail are both comprised of snowy strands, her leonine tail entirely draped with the silky hair instead of the standard where only the end is covered. Grey-black hooves meet the ground and wrapped around each hoof starts a blue flame that entwines each leg to the knee. She can banish the flames entirely and has enough control over them to selectively ignite or banish them. The eyes that see the world are ghostly white with no pupil and change to a glowing blue, still without pupils, depending on her mood.

Update December 2017:

In the wake of the ambush by Sevastos, Arête is now in possession of armor. It is black and appears almost feathered in its appearance. It fits her like a second skin, in no way constricting her movements while retaining maximum protection. The armor covers her entire body and up the length of her neck; only leaving the upper half of her throat and her legs open but still encasing her mane to avoid it becoming used against her There is also a section covering her face and cheeks, perfectly fitting around each horn and sculpted to her bones like it truly is one with her flesh.

Update February 2018:

The heartbroken mare now bears wings comprised of shadow which she can retract and display at will; a true reflection of the darkness that threatens to swallow her.


Arête does not adhere to anyone's rules but her own and is willing to go to questionable lengths to stick to them. She, however, adheres to a moral code developed by her king and former mate. Her previous station as a queen means nothing to her in this life yet she retains her lofty air and imperial mannerisms. Arête trusts no one without proof of their worth; her keen observation skills greatly aid her in making character judgments. She consistently comes across as cold, warm or an odd mixture of both giving others the impression of multiple personalities. In reality she is unapologetically who she is and responds only in truths whether they are cold or warm. To summarize, she is bold, brave and unflinchingly loyal once her trust is gained.

Update January 2018:

Though nothing has changed, some of her traits are now more enhanced than before. She is more aloof, reserved and prone to physical expressions of dislike. Her wariness is at an all time high and her trust now near impossible to gain.


Before Elysium:

She was raised to be nothing less than the perfect queen.

Her uncle took her in at a young age after the death of her parents, she cannot recall what age she joined him, but she will forever remember the gleam in his eyes when he set sight on his fair niece. Avarice.

Her daily lessons started that night, hours spent dripping sweat as he grilled into her the knowledge of their kingdom as well as the neighboring kingdoms alternating with workout after workout. This went on for months until he deemed her in shape enough to begin what he called the “real” lessons. Her days swiftly became filled a brutal routine of waking up, studying with her tutor for the first half of the day and then meeting with the combat trainers arranged by her uncle until he determined she had enough. The traditional education she craved, despite the harsh punishments for any failures. The physical aspects of her preparation (as that horrific excuse for an uncle called it) were vicious and cruel; the men he brought to train her were instructed to keep attacking until she successfully blocked three strikes. The number increased over time until she could knock unconscious any who were brought before her; several opponents at once. ”Any queen worth anything in this godforsaken land will be able to defend her king” Those words echoed in her mind daily, her uncle sure to repeat them often. Any failure was met with swift and brutal punishment ranging from a beating during which she was held immobile to starvation.

Then came the day when he added an additional set of lessons; how to please a man.

Of course, he could not allow her to be sullied before she was presented as a candidate to the king, but he did force her to watch the act performed by numerous others. He dragged his niece to brothels and paid the whores and gentry there to allow Arête to watch and learn.

The first two years of her life are comprised of stark memories, the harshness of her life keeping the past firmly lit and well remembered.

Eventually, the day came when her uncle dragged her to the palace where the king was set to choose his final queen, the last piece of his harem. She felt no excitement, only horror; she was too young to become a bride and too traumatized from life with her greedy relative to feel anything else. He forced her to stand upright, looking tall and proud, no trace of past abuse visible on her dark features with a smile gracing her lips. The king wandered down the line until he came to her. His narrowed eyes relaxed, the lines smoothing out and his mouth twisting into a soft smile that revealed him to not be as old as she thought. Though she had only seen two winters, she realized he was only four years her senior and that gave her a fraction of a measure of comfort; she thought herself about to be wed to an old man.

They stared each other down, her uncle shifting restlessly to her right at the defiance brimming in her cerulean stare. He taught her to bow and smile demurely, always being subservient to the king unless called upon for defense. Yet, here she stood, locked in a silent battle of wills until that smile stretched into a grin and he blinked once; chuckling as he touched his muzzle to hers. Tetsuo chose her as his final queen and immediately a guard surrounded her, shoving her uncle out of the way and placing her in a protective bubble with her soon to be husband at her side. He introduced himself quietly, knowing because of his extensive reach and stealth network; all she went through before standing in his foyer. Despite earlier bravery, she trembled now and he took notice, motioning to his guard to lead them to a more secluded area; his child-bride’s fear moved him in ways he could not have prepared for.

They walked together through a labyrinth for a time in utter silence, her lost in terrified thoughts of her impending rape and him pondering how best to sooth and ensure her that he truly meant no harm. Eventually he heard her sigh softly before peering at him with now pale eyes and she whispered that she did not wish to be a mother just yet; her words shaking almost as much as her body. The king’s heart broke for the child—far too young to be anyone’s bride, and instantly he reached for her, wrapping his neck around hers. His soft words reassured her that he did not intend to act on their new relationship until she called for him. He gave her the oath of the king and she gave him the first of many smiles throughout their time together.

Time passed and their relationship progressed into an earth-shattering love that consumed them both; she became his favored queen and he became the very air she breathed.

And yet, there was no physical relationship beyond basic affection, their marriage left unconsummated and her uncle left in the cold. His plans entirely foiled by a clever king and stubborn queen.

At the age of four, two years after he first told her that she will be the one to summon him, she whispered the words to the guard stationed in her salon that brought him to her. Their first night together was all that she dreamt it would be and all that he ever wanted to experience for the rest of their lives.

A few months later, she found herself to be with child, and the couple quickly prepared everything for the boy or girl who would be their heir. As the favored one, only children of their union were eligible to rule. A handful of months later and their son, Waeyr, greeted the world with a squall and his father’s piercing blood-red stare. The kingdom celebrated for a week the long awaited arrival of an heir, murmurs of the queen’s infertility quickly thrown into the gutter.

They were not prepared for what awaited them on the final day of the festivities. Her uncle, driven by his greed and hatred of the pair that were to be his financial salvation, gave their enemy an in. At the closing ceremony of their child’s arrival celebration, the palace was ambushed. Her memories of this night are crystal clear and will forever remain that way, but she does not speak of it…her worst failure. She chooses to smudge those memories into a hazy existence anytime they threaten to surface but will recite the facts if pushed:

A traitor led an army from a neighboring kingdom that long had his eye on his more prosperous neighbor and attacked. During the assault, his numbers overwhelmed the guard present and captured her beloved and child. Waeyr’s cries will forever echo in the chaotic region of her brain alongside the horror filled gaze of her king as he watched from his knees as the Raider approached Arête. The Raider (she will not give name to evil), forced her to watch as they slit her beloved’s throat and left him to bleed out, a whispered promise of undying love reaching her ears as the life bled from his eyes. The evil man turned then, his lustful gaze darting over her trembling form, before coming to rest on her son. She shrieked, twisted, turned, and pulled to no avail…they held her fast and turned her face to watch the same treatment befall the newborn she barely knew but loved with the entirety of her soul.

Rage like nothing else swam in her veins and she lost control, her eyes bled to a color to match Tetsuo’s; a color they have never shown again; blood-red. Here is where her memory becomes faulty and she does not recall much beyond blurring shapes and terrified screams as she tore through her captors and ran for her life. Her beloved’s final wish singing her a song of courage as she did as he bid and saved herself; nothing to be gained from remaining in torment.

Enter Elysium:

At age five she made her way to Elysium after a little less than a year of hiding and looking over her shoulder. She knew she killed many during her escape but that the Raider survived and she dare not settle anywhere close to her former home. Upon entry into this new land she came across several faces but the one that broke her heart a second time, despite breaking from tradition and forgoing the second year of morning required in her culture. Her king wanted her to be happy and Valor made her come alive again…even if their time together was not long enough. The dragon fought another valiantly and won a home where he invited her to rule by his side as Khaleesi; his queen. The thought terrified her, the trauma of her youth came rushing back to wake her in the dead of night; cold sweat dripping down her spine. She accepted the offer though, sure in his love despite her partially mended heart. Shortly after accepting the role, they conceived her second child, and she thought their life perfect.

However, while heavily pregnant and unable to properly defend herself a brute of a stallion, Sevastos, ambushed the Khaleesi almost killing her and the unborn child in her womb. Thankfully, Arête was blessed with healing magic and managed to barely save their lives enough for the herd’s healer to take over. The dragon screamed his furious promises of vengeance for attacking his mate and then poured his love onto her while she healed; again she thought their life wonderful despite the assault. With Shakaya’s herbal remedies and Arête’s magic (once restored through rest) she made a quick recovery only to find her mate had vanished.

She noticed his absence during her time cooped up in a cavern but assumed he was running the herd and tracking down the man who ambushed her.


He was gone.

She cried her rage into the night skies when no one could hear except her faithful shadow and personal guard, Ozereus. For many nights he comforted her, offering encouragement in amounts unusual for the apathetic beast until one night she gave into the whispering Darkness just a bit and hardened her heart. Davri met the world that night, her dragon daughter, and light battled with the overwhelming despair.

Light won, her daughter’s innocent features lighting up her life once again and drawing her away from the oppressive Darkness that continued to murmur quietly in her ear each night when she tried to sleep. A week or so went by and she heard rumors of her mate’s attack on a neighboring herd, Crucis. In that moment, memories desperately repressed came tearing the forefront of her brain and dragged her under to relive the torture of her king and firstborn’s deaths. Valor was no longer her mate after that for how could she be with one who, in her mind, behaved exactly as the Raider?

What of Crucis’ queen? Her thoughts tormented her with the idea of Valor attacking a pregnant mare in the way Sevastos attacked her and she knew she needed to seek the ruler out. So, against Ozereus’ recommendation she sought out the Wolf, Etain. As the sole ruler of her land, it was up to her to make amends before possible war broke out, even though she had nothing to do with the challenge issued to the Wolf of Acrux. The two queens met and reached an accord meant to seal their two lands together; the marriage of Nazareth and Davri. Then the two disappeared before the two youths could interact (to her knowledge) and a frozen heart broke anew.

Her heart closed itself off even more than before and she limped on, a shadow of her previous self until a solution presented itself in the form of Lael.

He wanted her herd, Carinae, and she did not want to rule anymore; having long ago sworn to never hold the mantle of sovereign again and failing to uphold that oath in the face of the dragon.

She gave into him, his diplomatic words soothing her in a way she didn’t realize she needed until he murmured the words. Carinae had a new ruler and she was free. Word came from Etain shortly after, they had traveled to a new land and though she did not reveal much; she did extend the offer of sending Davri there…apparently still willing to wed their children. Arête, after much deliberation, accepted and sent Davri on her way after arranging for Ozereus to escort her as far as the border.

A few weeks later and she pined for her Light in the Darkness and set out to ensure her safe arrival, freeing Ozereus from his oath that bound him to her service. The Fallen took to the skies and though she does not know where he is, she hopes to one day reunite with the shadowy beast who has become an uncle to her daughter and the greatest friend she has to date.

Between Elysium and Fimbulvetr:

The journey from one land to the other was not overwhelming in length nor did she feel any anxiety over the rougher types she ran across. Anytime a blackened soul dared to look upon her with any expression other than pleasant neutrality her onyx armor snapped into pace while cerulean flames lit in her eyes and around each leg. Her specter wings, a reflection of her own internal darkness, would appear and the combination never failed to ensure her safe passage; she made it clear she would rend the flesh from their bones should they try anything against her.

Eventually, two weeks into her trek, she ran across a lone man who looked at her with pleasant disinterest and simply dipped his chin as she walked by. A wisp of a smile danced across her lips and she turned to peer back at the stranger with curiosity alight in her gaze. His features were plain compared to the uniquely designed faces she came to know inside Elysium’s borders and she did not realize how much she craved the normal until seeing him. Without fully thinking her actions through she turned back to address him and they shared a benign, pleasant-enough conversation; never once did her armaments make an appearance.

He asked if she would care to rest the night where he was staying and she found herself replying in the affirmative before she realized it. Arête stayed that night and the next, until the days turned into a week and she found herself laughing when, prior to meeting this Itachi, she never laughed anymore. His thoughtful, sometimes irritable, questions and responses brought out a side to her not seen in the world for quite some time. Eventually after a night of too many drinks and depressing stories, the pair fell into bed together and remained there for the next several days, content to take comfort from each other. Despite knowing their relationship would only ever be of friendship, Arête truly did not mind, having not found such a source of peace since the death of her first mate.

As the weeks flew by, she knew their time together needed to end and sensed that he knew as well; his experience in the world exceeding hers by several years. She longed to reunite with her daughter but began to feel torn between Davri and the unborn growing steadily in her womb that deserved to know her wonderful father. Itachi made the decision for her, gently telling her that though he would come if called, his spirit desired to roam freely and she respected his will. After all, she knew before their first physical interaction, that this was only ever meant to be a fling. They parted on perfect terms with the agreement to pass messages to the other as a way of checking in and providing updates on the child he may never see.

Though their time was brief and she moved on to become a single parent of two now, Itachi forevermore holds a special place in her fractured heart; a heart he aided in beginning to mend.

Time flew by and eventually Nimue, her youngest daughter, found a group willing to care for the yearling and she desperately wanted to go. So, with a tearful goodbye or two, the pair parted with promises of remaining in touch and reuniting periodically. The separation fractured the healing lines of her heart and she began to plummet in a downward spiral once more; her sole reminder of the man who soothed the aching chasm of her soul now gone.

She wandered aimlessly for several weeks after their departure from one another scarcely eating or drinking; consuming just enough nourishment to keep herself from dying…how could she keep her promise of reuniting with her daughters if she fled this realm?

Enter Fimbulvetr:

Who knows what the future holds for the twice-broken moon?

Energy Manipulation


Apprentice: She is able to heal small scrapes, cuts, and bruises through manipulation of the injured party’s cells, but it leaves her drained of energy for a short time after.

Adept: Her abilities grow to include setting bones and speeding the healing process, she can also provide a small energy boost to those around her. The cost increases, sapping her of her own strength for a time.

Master: The ability to manipulate the energy of others expands to include sapping them of their strength (approved by other role-player), fracturing their bones, and entirely healing a broken bone should she choose. Her price for such feats is staggering but manageable; the level of rest required after increases but the pull on her own energy is lessened at this level.

Virtuoso: She is proficient enough to now offset the energy she expels by taking the energy from nature around her; killing plants, grasses, and even trees to restore her. The ability to boost the levels of another is now solely limited to what she can provide herself and pull from the environment. Her healing abilities include any injury and all illnesses. The cost of such strength and power is steep; after longer uses she will need rest and potentially healing of her own depending on the level of energy manipulated. On a smaller scale, the drawbacks have become minimal and she can use these skills with only a small resting period afterwards.



Profile Picture: Charlie--X
Under Appearance: Carhartt
Under Personality: Arcanums
Itachi & Arête: samuRAI-same