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Hannah Ivalyn, Discussion in 'Profiles' started by Lightascetic, Aug 1, 2013.
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post Sep 30 2013, 04:04 PM
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Skylessia Characters
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QUOTE("Lightascetic @ post: 15514, member: 382")
Name: Hannah Ivalyn

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Nationality: Plegia

Allegiance: N/A

Class: Mage

Level: 10

Weapon Levels: Magic ©

Weapons:

Strepitoso © (Potency, Martial)

Hannah strikes a swift chord, generating a straight flying bolt of sound, much like an arrow in terms of trajectory. Upon impact, the bolt slams into its target, applying concussive force that can easily knock the average man off his feet.

Irato Forza © (Defensive, Potency, Area of Effect)

An unfocused chord that reaches an almost sonic pitch. With a short range, Hannah uses this spell to clear the area around her of threats. Affected targets are knocked several feet away. Not as impactful as Strepitoso.

Disjunct Prestissimo © (Delay, Killer)

Hannah runs her fingers across her harp, building up static energy. Beginning with a low chord, Hannah swiftly plays a higher chord in order to unleash a bolt of lightning that travels extremely fast. Difficult to aim, which also adds to the charge-up time.

Volante Sostenuto (E) (Nonlethal)

Hannah repeatedly plays high chords, generating a steadily blowing gust in the direction she is playing.


Appearance:
Hannah is slightly short for her age. From travelling and performing, her fitness is relative and her body is lean. Her blonde hair falls in curtains around her head: once braided and carefully maintained, recently she has allowed it to flow free. Her once sparkling hazel eyes have dulled, taking on a sombre hue. Her lips appear very soft and still, as they no longer see much use. Her ears are slightly bent, which she finds useful for tucking her hair behind.

Hannah’s attire mainly consists of a red-dyed tunic, a faded purple travel skirt and white leggings. Dark brown shin-high boots, comfortably worn in rarely ever leave her feet. A well-made one strap bag carries all of her possessions reasonably.

Strapped to her thigh is her trust harp: fashioned from an exquisite wood and fitted with exquisite strings. Perfect etchings finish the instrument with a touch of class, while Hannah’s surname is carved on the underside of the one-handed music-maker. The strings are well used but sturdy with quality and simple enchantments.

Personality:
Once enigmatic and cheerful, Hannah has become withdrawn and quiet. Her confidence has diminished, leaving an unsure, timid girl that easily sways to other people’s wishes. The only time which a flicker of her former self returns is when Hannah is playing her beloved harp. Losing herself in her own music is one of the only ways she can pursue happiness, although she is reluctant to share her gift fully with others since the incident. Listening to other people playing music also soothes her considerably. Hearing somebody sing, however, is torture for her.

Unless the situation concerns self-defence, Hannah lacks motivation for most things that require perseverance. Due to her inability to speak, she has resorted to communicating the only way she knows how: through music. She has long since forgotten most of her well-developed social practises. If she smiles, the person who causes it should feel very fortunate.



Backstory:
Hannah was born into a simple family in the Plegian countryside. An only child, she experienced the full affection of her parents. Her father was a skilled woodworker, often commissioned to craft instruments, tools or ornaments. Her mother spent most of her time as a seamstress: both common professions, yet humble. Hannah’s father worked from a shed attached to the back of their hut, meaning he was never too far from home and his daughter.

For the first few years of the war, Hannah’s family were unaffected. The countryside surrounding their house remained untarnished by the scars of battle. It wasn’t until the last year when a fleeing company of Plegians were pursued ruthlessly by Ylissean soldiers, desperate to end the conflict. Hannah was 7 years old when her father burst through the door. He bundled up a pack with clothes, provisions and as much gold as he could scramble together. Lastly, he pressed into the top of the pack his prized possession: a hand-crafted harp that he played to Hannah before she went to sleep. Too young to understand why she had to go, but old enough to understand the danger she was in, Hannah didn’t argue with her parent’s decision to send her away.

When the skirmish hit moments later, two desperate Plegian soldiers clambered into the hut. It wasn’t long before the Ylissean cavalry descended on the hut, shattering the wooden beams and thatched walls with steel. In the confusion, Hannah’s parents were killed…

Well, that’s what she assumed. Following her father’s instructions, Hannah ran as far as she could without looking back. When her little lungs could heave no longer, she collapsed against a rocky outcrop on the other side of the plains. From the distance, she could just about make out the ruins of her childhood home, now destroyed. Remembering the way to the local village, Hannah made her way, hiding from anybody that came along the path. Upon arriving, she was soon taken into an orphanage. She never forgot her parents, but soon the war was over and her life attained a sense of normality once more.

Her life was basic, just as before. Her matron was a kind lady, but Hannah didn’t receive the level of affection that she had gotten from two ever-present parents. In their memory, and in order to soothe the ache of loneliness, Hannah often played the harp her father had given to her. Completely untrained, she found that she was very capable at stringing notes into melodies. As she became one of the older children, Hannah would play lullabies to the younger orphans. She also enjoyed singing to herself, but would only allow herself to do so when nobody else was around. It wasn’t until she was overheard from her secret spot: a small woodland on the edge of the village, that she realised she could sing. Hannah had felt particularly down that evening, so had snuck out of the orphanage. In the stillness of night, her voice carried to the tavern.

The man who interrupted her was a rather wealthy individual with an ear for entertainment. Early next morning, a 15 year-old Hannah left behind her life at the orphanage, accompanying this wealthy stranger to Plegia’s capital. After one rendition at a busy inn, Hannah was adored. Her name was passed on my many an aristocratic mouth until her pockets were lined with plenty of gold. To match her performances, Hannah’s personality flourished. She became confident and cheery, spreading happiness wherever her harp strings played. She continued in this fashion for several years, building renown as the ‘Merry Maven’. In her later years, she was playing concerts as opposed to tavern jigs. They were always sold out; a detail that did not sit well with everybody in her audiences. After her last performance to date, Hannah returned to the local tavern as she always did, her pockets jangling with coin. She settled down with a glass of ice-cold winterberry juice as she always did. As the refreshing liquid slid down her throat, the door to her room flew open, a garbed figure standing in the doorway. Before she could do so much as stand, the figure was chanting at an alarming rate. Having dabbled in magic herself on her travels, Hannah could feel the mystical charge in the man’s words. Unable to react, the spell was cast. A sharp flash of light consumed her vision, leaving her crumpled against her bed. The Tavern staff hurried upstairs after the commotion, but arrived to find Hannah alone. Once she came to, one of the waiters asked if she was okay. When she tried to reply, no sound passed her lips. Like a nightmare, it dawned on her that she had been silenced.

Hannah spent days at the inn, cancelling her next concerts. Her fears grew as not even a sliver of her voice returned. Her associates abandoned her. Tearful, Hannah left the busting city scene of Plegia to wonder the countryside and deserts, her harp her only companion. Mourning her condemned silence, Hannah withdrew into herself, her presence only recognisable by slow, solemn notes that flowed from her once cheer-creating harp.

Notes:
Hannah no longer has a voice. She attempt to communicate with her harp.
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