Valencia
Appearance
Petite, lithe and slender, with a faint hint of muscle tone, Valencia does not strike an imposing figure at all. Raven locks cascade down to her shoulders, framing a delicate oval face adorned with soft, lime green eyes, a small straight nose and full lips; indeed, she would be attractive were her expression not caught in a perpetual half-scowl.
Usually seen wearing a sea green knee length dress and carrying an ash staff, 6 feet in length.
When garbed for battle, she dons a linen gambeson,a set of plate vambraces and a mail gorget. Less a stylistic choice and more of a fiscally practical one, as she cannot afford better.
Skills and Abilities
Weaponmaster - Despite appearances, Valencia is highly skilled in all forms of armed combat. Her preferred weapons are polearms, as they compensate well for her slight stature and often lackluster physical strength (compared to most other warriors).
Acrobat - Valencia is a skilled acrobat, capable of great feats of balance, agility and flexibility, a talent she puts to good use in her fighting technique.
Personality
Calm, quiet, deliberative, warm, even-tempered, proud
Biography and Lore
The taverns of the Outer City were alive with gossip of the latest brawl at the market.
"Did you see it? No? Well -"
" - It was like a cat toying with a mouse! Then she- "
"Has to be a stunt, there's no way she could've -"
They were, of course, talking about the brief altercation between a petite Human woman and a surly Nordenfiir mercenary earlier in the day, which resulted in an astonishingly swift and decisive victory for the former. Details of what caused the altercation were muddled, but for those who got to witness it first hand, one thing was clear: things were never as they seemed.
And while she would have you think otherwise, on the subject of martial prowess the woman who now called herself Valencia would be the very embodiment of that adage.
Born the only child of an Anirian Guard captain of House Virak, it was a given that militaristic pursuits would be the cornerstone of her early life; as the only child, it was expected of her to follow her father's footsteps. And so it was that a military upbringing would be thrust upon her. While they were commoners, her family had influence. And so it was decided that she should go to the officer's academy for her education. Looking back, she supposed that she didn't mind it much; growing up in Vel Anir was much more ... physical than most other societies, perhaps save for the Orcs and the Nordenfiir. She had no one to truly call a friend growing up, largely due to her, uh, unfriendly appearance. In fact, she was often picked on physically for it. Of course, her small stature often meant she was at a disadvantage physically compared to most of her peers, so she had to rely on the natural strength of her petite frame : agility. That's not to say that her peers were lumbering brutes, no - far from it! She was just faster and more flexible than they were was all. Sometimes much faster, even.
Her formative years rolled on by as expected for a youth officer of the Anirian Guard, which is to say save for the occasional duel and mass brawls, was rather uneventful. As she grew older she showed a natural talent for tactics and strategy. On the subject of personal combat, she discovered that her quick footwork and catlike nimbleness alone was not enough to get by, a lesson she learned more than once as her fellow trainees and peers began coming into their own as warriors. While it it was still difficult for them to connect their training blades with her body during sparring sessions, it wasn't infrequent enough to shrug it off as "lucky hits". The once aloof girl began attending to her training in earnest, at first as a defense mechanism but quickly developing into a burning passion. She consumed martial manuscripts feverishly, devouring every scrap of technique and form that she could glean from their pages. She visited the illustrious fencing schools of the city, seeking instruction but often being turned away. due to her low birth Yet this did not deter her in the slightest. She would ambush students of the styles she wanted to learn, and through countless beatings (her opponent received them, most of the time) learned much.
By the age of 16 she was consistently besting most of her martial instructors save for one(her hand-to-hand and wrestling instructor, to be exact) and by the time she was thrust into the role of soldier, she had developed a fearsome reputation for her skill at arms. Ever the dutiful daughter, she spent the first few years of her adulthood following her family's wishes, taking up a post commanding a squadron of outriders. A match was made for her with a younger son of a distant cousin of her liege House, and it looked like she was moving up in the world. She had not given up her penchant for dueling, and her men had taken to calling her the "Little Conqueror" for her feats, somethng she took great pride in. However for reasons only she knows she deserted the Guard one day, taking on the name Valencia. For this, she is no longer welcome inside the walls of Vel Anir or Anirian society, and is being hunted intermittently by House Virak.
Four years have gone by since then, and the woman now is no longer the same prideful youth of the past. In those years, she had managed to garner significant notoriety for her escapades and feats as a mercenary, and rumors began circulating about the Wardancer; lethal grace given form was what the rumors said about her, and what began as true accounts quickly became embellished tales of epic clashes. Notably, these stories all had terribly inaccurate descriptions of her, something that pleased her greatly as it misdirected her targets' expectations, as well as keeing her identity relatively anonymous to the public. These days, she has left largely left behind mercenary work in favor of being an instructor.
She was not infallible however, for despite all her skill at arms there were still others who were better than she was. It went without saying that she was often outmatched in a contest of raw strength, but she had also encountered opponents who could outpace her speed, outwit and outsmart her, outlast her endurance, and there were many who were as skilled as or even outclass her with their preferred weapon. She learned the hard way that for all her skill and reflexes, there was precious little she could do against magic. The massive burn across her back served as a constant reminder of her hubris. She had survived these defeats, been humbled by her stripes, and had gleaned much from her experiences, tempering herself into the calm,collected warrior she is today. She has lost her taste for spectacle, preferring to finish her fights swiftly. On that matter, she was no longer keen to seek out trouble either, her personality having mellowed considerably. It was one thing to draw first blood, another to take a life; and after years of campaigning as a sellsword, she had had her fill of death. Where before she had been eager to thrust herself into life and death battles, she soon discovered that she preferred it if she did not need to do so. Indeed, while she had become acclimatized to death and killing, she simply did not have the stomach for it, and her current fighting style accordingly reflected this, aiming to disarm and force her opponent to yield rather than cause serious harm or death. Where once her passion for mastery burned bright, these days the fire had died down considerably, acknowledging that there were simply too many forms to learn and that she would have to be content with what she knew now. But perhaps the greatest trait of the Wardancer is her adaptability; her vast knowledge of form and style often meant that she had an answer ready for her opponent, and though she did not always emerge the victor, at the end of the day, is not living to see another day victory enough?
With her journey complete, she had originally arrived in Alliria to build a new life for herself. She offers her services as a combat instructor, advertising herself in both the Inner and Outer Cities, though none take her seriously. Without clients and steady income, she lives hand to mouth most days, surviving by taking on odd jobs. Eventually this wasn't enough, and she has moved on in search of greener pastures.
A woman of her particular talents would find her skillset in high demand, yet her four years in exile has cast a long shadow in her wake. On the run from her past, as well as new enemies made from her time as a sellsword have earned her many life grudges. For this reason she has come to adopt an almost pacifist approach to combat, avoiding the use of lethal force unless absolutely necessary. She did not need more ill will.