Name: Rora Tyche
Age: 31
Gender: female
Race: human
Appearance: Rora stands just shy of 5'7. Her life has left her with a powerful build and although she is nit the tallest she commands a certain amount of presence. Thankfully she has spent enough time working on her speed and agility that she has a wiry kind of strength. She naturaly as paler skin but the last few years of working on her farm has left her with quite the tan. Her arms and legs a very scarred whether from training or actual combat, and besides a large scar on her side the only other notable mark is the burned x on her left shoulder over the mark of Dismorigan. Her hair is a dark brown that she used to keep clipped up to the tops of her shoulders but she has let it grow down to the bottom of her shoulder blades. Her eyes are an even darker brown than her hair but if you look closely they have hints of gold around the very edge. She is missing the pinky finger on her left hand, an older injury from some of her earlier battles. She tends to where very simple cloths colored brown or green. Her shoes are leather with thick soles that has been toughened.
From whence do you reign?: Dismorigan
Occupation: Retired mercenary and soldier. Lives off of a small farm.
Essence Manifestation: Extension
Personality: Rora tends to be pretty raw and gruff. She is not mean it is just that she is not under any illusion as to how the world really is. If she thinks you are weak she will tell you, if you mess up she will make sure you know about it. But she has more patients then seems possible and if someone is willing to learn she is willing to share what she knows. That being said if someone asks her to teach them and then complains about it she will drop them faster than anything. She can be a bit temperamental at times but this mostly comes into play when anyone mentions her previous profession. While she insists that she is retired and perfectly happy being so she is going a bit stir crazy and although she can be a bit sarcastic she welcomes company and maybe even a bit of adventure.
Background: Rora spent the first few years of her life living with her parents in a fairly sized house in Dismorigan. Relatively speaking her early years were normal, perhaps her parents were a bit more absent then a normal pair but it's hard to juggle a child as well as full time jobs as mercenaries. While her early years might have been normal when she hit six years old the training started. In the beginning it was not so tough but as she got older the training got more intense. Every from self defense to herbalism, and while to some it looked like they were grooming her to be a perfect little soldier they saw it in a much different light. No one in their family had lived passed the age of sixty, such was the nature of their trade, and her parents were not about to loose their only child, they were going to give her a fighting chance.
But Rora had the mind of a mercenary and at the age of eighteen she was off on her own, forming a small team with a few other mercenaries. It was during this time that she found her essence. They were tasked with raiding a supply caravan but found their target much more heavily armed than they had been lead to believe. Fighting desperately Rora called a retreat turning just in time to see one of her friends falling with a knife in his ribs. Charging forward she didn't have time to think just to act, reaching out her hands she found them grasping the handle of something very solid. Not even bothering to look she swung the long sword around and quickly dispatched the attacker. Quickly she grabbed her comrade and beat a hasty retreat. Her ally survived but he had quite the pretty scar to remember the encounter by. However it was not meant to last and indeed it ended just as she turned twenty.
Rora was both a threat and a possible resource for the Dismorigan nation so rather than try and get rid of her she was drafted instead along with two of her mercenary partners. For the first few years she did not see much combat, her mercenary training made the armies own regiment seem not so bad but her commanding officers did not trust her. The feeling was mutual. Rora for her part had to be very careful, essence was not something to be shown off and so any practicing that she did do had to been done quietly and discreetly. Thankfully she had at least to allies to help her keep a weathered eye out. Eventually she started to see more action and more battles. Most were only small skirmishes but it was something and Rora soon gained respect from her fellow soldiers and her commanding officers. And even if she never made it very far in the ranks she could be trusted to give her honest opinion and still do what she was told. Those under her command saw her as fine commander and it was a rare thing indeed for her squad to loose a member.
For eight years that was her life but like many things time makes it go stale. She was in her prime and she was ready for something different. It wasn't that the fighting and the thrill itself was getting old, it was just that she was tired and she had killed so many that she no longer even felt a hint of guilt or discomfort when she took a life. And something about that numb feeling scared her. However one day one of her original mercenary friends was caught practicing essence, normally he might have gotten away with a lashing and a sharp reprimand but this was the third time he had been caught and the old king was not so forgiving. Rora tried everything to get him out of there, bribing, blackmailing, trying to use every favor that was owed to her. None of it worked, and her friend was put to death. That was a heavy blow to Rora and a week later she was discharged herself for "disorderly" conduct. Before she left the symbol of the kingdom that had been tattooed on her shoulder, a mark she had been given in her early years as a soldier, had a large X burned across it to show that she had been sent away. After that she found herself a quiet little farm near the river, somewhere that was within a days ride of the city but that was far enough away from prying eyes. Almost every week she travels into town to visit some of the friends she made in the army. The days that she stays home are always filled with either farm chores or training, or some times both.
Fear: loosing all sense of people's worth. Being unable to help someone when it is needed the most.
Quirks: She keeps her house strictly in order something that she picked up from the military, and she gets quite annoyed if people start to mess with her stuff. She tends to tap her fingers or anything she is holding when she is thinking.
