Blint Family/Vahanian

The Early Years:

Vahanian Blint, brother to Leatho and Lillian. He began his career as a noble in Madina, but quickly joined the realm of Aurvandil. After proving himself a capable commander and natural leader he was appointed Duke of the Margrivate of Tower Fatmilak and named the Arbiter of Justice. He spent many years in these positions, but eventually, the weight of war and the combined forces of the enemies of Aurvandil led him to leave Dwilight in shame. He spent several years as a reaver, pirate, and mercenary until he met Katerina. He fell in love with her immediately and she with him.

Life in the North:

He gave up his ignoble ways for her and made a home for them in the North of Beluterra, among the people of Thalmarkin. He spent years with her, serving as a lord of the Wailing Woods and a protector of its people. During the 6th Daimon invasion of Beluterra, he took command of a large force of Thalmarkin soldiers. They proved to be extremely effective in combat, and with wills made of iron. In an attempt to destroy him, a Daimon Warband kidnapped Katerina, and Vahanian's firstborn daughter, Ellaria. Vahanian was soon captured as well, he spent weeks at the hands of the Daimons, as did his family. They did not survive imprisonment. When Vahanian escaped, he and 10 other Northmen hunted that Warband for months. Eventually finding it and Vahanian killed its leader in battle. After the invasion ended, Vahanian secluded himself from the world, sequestering himself away in the northern mountains of Thalmarkin.

A New Oath:

Vahanian had been growing tired of the internal politics in Thalmarkin, he felt the ruling council had lost sight of the true vision and purpose of the Northernmost realm on Beluterra. When he heard his older brother and only living sibling, Leatho had sworn himself and their family to House JeVondair, Vahanian was intrigued. He soon learned that there was a southern Queen, a Rania Eastersand JeVondair, whom had issued a call to arms for any nobles looking for a life to dedicate themselves to. With the loss of his family, and his waning patience for the politics of Thalmarkin, Vahanian answered the call. He was soon after tasked with Traveling to the Shattered Vales and establishing a foothold there alongside a man he'd never met. Kethan D'Espana. At their first meeting the two men established a friendship that would persist through time and distance.

Grief Devours Reason

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint Message sent to all nobles in Rines (9 recipients) - 15 days, 22 hours, 53 minutes ago

Vahanian waited on the sands of the arena. This particular arena was one that he'd ordered constructed during his time as steward and all the workers in this section were rather fond of him. They afforded him private use of their sands whenever he asked.

Today Vahanian felt neutral. His emotions had been in flux since Stheno's death, most days he was submerged beneath the waves of grief and pain, but today he felt oddly in control. Perhaps the anticipation of friendly competition with an old friend was lifting his spirits. Vahanian saw a figure approach from the other side of the Arena, he recognized the outline as Kethan and then he began his pre-match ritual. He crouched down and picked up a handful of the sand from the arena and smelled it, breathing in the scent of the grains. He rubbed his hands together letting the sand fall between his palms and back to the ground, before clapping once and removing any excess sand.

He stood, he was slightly taller than average at about 6 feet high, he wore a sleeveless, form fitting tunic. His arms were decorated with the tell tale signs of a swordsmen. Scattered white scars of mistakes and battles won and lost adorned his muscles. His hair was tied back in a loose braid with a black sateen ribbon. He wore dark trousers and leather boots. A weapon rack was off to the side that held an assortment of weaponry.

Kethan approached and bowed his head to Vahanian. "Good to see you, my friend." Vahanian bowed his head and responded in kind. He gestured to the weapon rack and allowed Kethan to select his weapon first. Vahanian was a bit surprised that Kethan went for the short sword. Vahanian towered over his friend by nearly a foot, he had a greater reach and he hadn't been frail and close to death a few days ago.

The thought of Kethan's recovery brought back a flood of emotions, Vahanian fought them with all his might. He fought the irrationality that crept into his brain. He hated the irrational, it had no place here, it only served to cause things to be unorganized and disorderly. Vahanian hated those things, but despite his best efforts he couldn't keep a thought from pervading his mind, he couldn't help but think that if not for Kethan, Stheno might still be alive. He walked over to the weapon rack and grabbed twin short swords. He wasn't in full control of himself and that only fueled his anger.

The two friends squared off. With a practiced eye Vahanian read the battle on Kethan, he could smell it, taste it, hear it. Today it sung of cowardice. Today it tasted of neutrality. Today it smelled of caution. Today it looked like fear.

The arbiter of the match called the start and Vahanian launched his attack. Baldwin watched in great anticipation. He loved watching his master fight. With short swords Vahanian usually started slow, but today was different. Baldwin was shocked at the aggressiveness of Vahanian's attacks. Kethan held his own, for a time. But the sheer force and onslaught of Vahanian's attacks were causing him to tire. There was a moment when it appeared as though Vahanian had overextended himself, and Kethan was surprisingly fast. He countered and slashed at Vahanian. The clang of steel was the first indicator of who was going to win.

Kethan had chosen short swords because he thought speed would be his advantage. He clearly didn't know Vahanian's own personal affinity for short swords. They were, arguably, his favorite and best weapon, and it showed. Kethan and Vahanian locked blades for a brief moment, until Vahanian kicked Kethan square in the chest. Launching the man backwards. He recovered well, which spoke volumes to his experience as a soldier. But Vahanian was not deterred. He moved in while Kethan was still on his knees, and batted away his sword. Vahanian moved past Kethan and slashed downwards, harder than he'd meant to and cut deeper than he meant to. Kethan grunted and fell forward. The Arbiter called the match Vahanian's victory, but as soon as Vahanian saw the blood pooling on the sand, he felt like anything but a victor.

The Arbiter rushed forward and Vahanian was still in the throws of his emotions. This time he was overcome with shame and dishonor. He leveled his blade at the Arbiter, the point just touching his throat and through gritted teeth said "I will see to him." The Arbiter swallowed, hands outstretched to show he meant no harm and backed away.

"Baldwin! The Healers!" Vahanian barked. Baldwin nodded and hurried off. Vahanian knelt next to his unconscious friend and lowered his head. mumbling under his breath. He cut a strip of tunic off with a blade and wrapped it as tightly as he could around Kethan's torso, giving him a makeshift bandage. "Forgive me, old friend. I'm not yet myself." Vahanian whispered to Kethan.

–

Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana

(Personal message to Vahanian Blint) - 10 days, 23 hours, 17 minutes ago

It was the day.

When sunrise came, Kethan was already preparing himself. Today was the day he would be fighting Vahanian for the first time. The past few weeks since Stheno's death had been a roller coaster of emotions, ebbing and flowing between the downs of reflection and memories and the ups of excitement and challenges since he had been chosen Grand Inquisitor.

Once he was ready, he took a deep breath and began walking towards the arena where Vahanian had suggested to meet. It was very early, but the streets of Rines were already alive with the movement of peasants, traders and artisans as they got ready to begin their work. He had no problem finding the fighting grounds, and he saw his old friend waiting for him when he entered the place.

As he walked towards him, he saw Vahanian crouching and picking some sand, probably some sort of ritualistic preparation for the match. He waited for him to finish, and closed his eyes to mentally prepare as well. When he opened them, Vahanian was already standing up, and Kethan's anticipation for the fight began waning a little. Vahanian was much taller than him, at least a foot if not more, and the old man was considerably heavier and more robust as well. He knew that, of course, but he hadn't had to fight him before, and he could feel his nerves flaring up when considering the likely outcome of the match. It didn't help to know the reputation Vahanian had, a proficient master of the blade and probably much more skilled than he was after so many years without practicing.

Kethan couldn't also avoid looking at Vahanian's arms, covered in the many scars of previous fights. He had his fair share of battle marks, most of them coming from Daimons during the last Invasion, but he had to admit that he felt intimidated. He had chosen a relatively tight tunic as well, dark green in color, for it was his favorite, as well as dark brown trousers and light leather boots, all properly fitted. Trying to regain control of his emotions, he bowed his head to Vahanian and greeted him, with Vahanian replying in kind. He then turned to the weapon rack and immediately went for a particularly light shortsword, which seemed to surprise Vahanian somewhat. Kethan had been considering it, and given the size difference and greater reach of his opponent, he had decided that speed would be his best asset on this match.

He was also surprised when his friend picked dual shortswords, and he wondered what was in Vahanian's mind. It was a very unusual choice, and it required a lot of skill to properly pull through. However, he quickly lost that train of thought when he looked at Vahanian's eyes.

Anger. There was anger in those eyes, and a promise for pain and a swift ending. If that was part of Vahanian's battle mask to intimidate his opponents even more, he could definitely feel it working. He shuffled his weight between his feet, feeling uncomfortable and not sure anymore about the battle. His fighting stance was a dead give away of his chosen tactic for the match, a very neutral and conservative style to simply know Vahanian through the duel. When the arbiter called the start, he barely reacted in time.

Vahanian launched himself like a wounded lion, his strikes just as fast and powerful as Kethan had feared. He was sweating to simply hold his position, and did not dare to even attack for fear of missing a parry. That was why, when Vahanian overextended himself, he launched a punishment strike as fast as his muscles would allow him.

But it wasn't fast enough. Kethan didn't know if Vahanian had tricked him or if his recovery had just been exceptionally swift, but there wasn't much else he could do now but watch. He watched, too slow and weak to react in time, as Vahanian's kick launched him backwards to the ground. He watched, still trying to get on his feet, as Vahanian batted away his sword. He watched, defenseless, as his friend moved past him and slashed downwards, cutting deep in a curve from behind his left shoulder all the way to the side of his lower ribs. With a grunt of pain, Kethan fell forward, darkness coming to welcome him as he embraced his unconsciousness.

When he woke up, his wound bandaged and already under the care of the healers, Kethan could not help but wonder why Vahanian had behaved like that. Goosebumps came when he considered the possibility that it may have been intentional, and he felt the room spin around, covered in sweat, for the many nights it took his wound to become yet another scar.

–

Ecstasy In Grehk

You carefully work the ritual inscribed on your scroll of Ecstasy.

You carefully perform the ritual described on the scroll, and when it finishes, you wait expectantly for something to happen. Nothing seems to. Disappointed, you clean up the area where you performed the ritual and start to head home, when you pass a comely peasant, and feel a sudden stirring of lust. By the time you have made it back, you have seen—and heard—many unmistakable signs that the scroll is working.

Population Boom in Grehk just in Your seneschal brings you word of an inexplicable population boom in Grehk. 689 babies have apparently been born recently.

– Ecstasy Spell Casting

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint

Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (36 recipients) - just in

Vahanian could feel the magic emanating from the scroll case he carried. It made his arm, and tattoo tingle. He walked through the halls of the White Citadel until he came to the stair that led to the rooftop gardens. He wound his way through the carefully tended paths and found the outcrop of the garden where he'd tried spell-casting once before. He was entirely alone, save for his chief advisor, Baldwin, who stood back and said nothing. He was a little more familiar with the process this time around, having witnessed the Oracle handle more magic than he though possible and still demand more.

He lit the braziers with the torch, discarding it in the fourth brazier and readied himself. He removed his thick cloak and placed the scroll case in front of him. He studied it, mentally picking it up and examining it in his mind. He wanted to do this right, the people of Grehk needed this. He remembered Rania starting to sing, and he remembered her voice guided his own to the right resonance. He tried that again, only it didn't feel right, didn't feel the same. He was about to proceed anyway when something deep within his mind stopped him. He needed to focus. He drew his sword and sat down, taking a whetstone and running it along the blade in a careful and methodical manner. The sound of the stone on the steel was oddly calming to him, the sound it made resonated with him, he began to try to match the tone with his own humming. When he felt he was hitting the right resonance with both whetstone and humming he closed his eyes, and reached out with his mind, his will, and his spirit. He could feel himself reach out towards the scroll, and was suddenly thrown about in the tumultuous storm of sounds and resonances, it was too much, to messy. He couldn't find the order to it. He relaxed, and let go. Retreating, in his mind, back to the whetstone and his humming.

He just relaxed, waiting, for the right resonance to come. He decided to take the scroll from it's case, but not unfurl it just yet. Looking at the magic infused parchment he was filled with memories, emotions, and pain. It made him think of Stheno. His heartbeat quickened and he could feel his face redden with anger and sadness. He didn't fight the emotion. He let it in, but slowly, methodically, and carefully. In his mind, he placed each emotion in his place. The ferocity of his anger, the pain of his sadness, the rawness of his regret.

He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter until his knuckles went white, and he hummed. Then it hit him all at once, the power of the magic swarmed to his call, but not as sound. As color. He saw the hues of red, and pink, and orange, and undertones of blue. He stood and grabbed the scroll with his left hand and holding onto his sword with his right. He began reciting the enchantment, each word sparked a different color in his mind, Orange, pink, red, blue, red, red, red, pink, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, orange, pink, pink, orange, orange, blue, blue and finally. White.

He pierced the scroll with his blade as he recited the last enchantment and it burst into flames. He slammed it to the stones he stood upon and held it there. Concentrating on the emotions and the colors that flooded his mind. Willing them into and through his body. His tattoo burned, his vision went white as he became the focal point for the magic that swirled around him. He released that energy directing out and up and over his beloved city, he choked out a sob as the last of the energy released from his body and he gasped for air. The scroll sputtered out, charred and expended, and Vahanian was filled with a sense of failure. He grew weary, and felt totally drained. He needed food, and he needed sleep. As he stood, sheathed his sword and started the trek back to his chambers, he wandered through the halls of the White Citadel. He needed to think before he rested.

As he walked through the halls of the citadel, he started to feel at peace. It was subtle. He relaxed a bit more, and turned a corner he very clearly got the smell of lilies and lavender. It reminded him of Katerina. He kept wandering through the halls and as he turned back towards his chambers, he caught sight of her standing in the doorway, beckoning him to join him in their chambers. He felt his heart skip a beat, as he saw her in all her beauty. The curls of her black hair, the shinning emerald green eyes that made him feel totally vulnerable and totally safe at the same time. The sweet, pure innocent joy in her laugh, and the nearly blinding brilliance and infectiousness of her smile. He was filled with so much love, so much desire, and so much longing for her. She faded from view and he turned around looking for her not ready for her to leave. He turned back towards his chamber doors, but she was gone. He was faced with just the sturdy oak door and the joys of his memories of her.

– Vahanian Blint