Ranna Anakanos

Biographical information

Birthplace Mavallos, Northern Amol-Kalit Born Died Age 42 Home Saknne estates of Vené Tanyakoettir Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Human Sub-Race Gender Female Height 6'1 Mass Mesomorphic build; lean Hair color Darkish-brown Eye color Warm amber Skin color Brown

Political information

Affiliation(s) Occupation Knight Clan(s) Caste Domain Masters Apprentices Alias(es)

Out-of-character information

Writer Feryke Created on Avatar RuneQuest by Chaosium

Still very much WIP I have to literally go to work right n

Ayl-Maltene Ranna Anakanos, a woman of Kaliti ancestry, could first be noted by her warm amber eyes; the dark specks of colour found in them offered a pleasing contrast to their surrounding warmth. She was always quick to smile with those eyes in friendly company. Here a twinkle in them as she laughed, there a playful dance whenever she found herself amused by something said in jest or confidence.

As her years and stresses wore on, so too did the crow's feet flanking her eyes. Although never to the effect of diminishing their youthful luster. They were only ever an indication of having lived her life the way all living things do, with no regret, even as time left its marks.

What had left perhaps more evident marks was the scarring across her countenance, made all the more prominent in the way it ofttimes contrasted harshly against her coppery skin. As the wrinkles were the scars of acknowledging age and frequent use, the wounds she suffered were the result of experience, farewell memories of the way she earned the right to be considered a seasoned warrior.

The remainder of Ranna's body held many such testaments, too: now healed scarring that crossed over and across developed forearms; a fragmented gash across her collarbone like that of creeping moss; even a missing pinky finger upon her left hand.

All of this and more was but a small hint of a more exhaustive list of blemishes of every shape and size that littered her torso and legs, ultimately out of sight.

The developed musculature of her body certainly did not detract from the impression this gave, but the opposite, helping provide an even greater impression of a resilience tempered through the forge of a knight's trials. She would wear them with the confidence of a woman who found no shame in being marked by all she had endured.

For it meant only that she stood proudly, still.

Her hair was of a darker shade of brown, nearly black, with a deep colouration that bore no inkling of grey amongst its well-kept tresses that were more often than not tied up into a braided bun at the back of her head, preferring the practicality of keeping hair tightly bound. Yet there were always some stray strands to frame her oval features as they escaped confinement, usually to be tucked behind her ears when she noticed. They contrasted in a pleasant way against the lighter hues of her tanned skin.

While she did not restrict herself from the wearing of any particular garment, what Ranna - Ranna 'the Immovable' was most well known for was her suit of armor

The armor she wore in daily practice was

***

For a woman who could at times be caring, heartfelt, even maternal in some situations, Ranna was no more nor no less than someone who pursued her duties with a passion bordering on zealotry when the need arose. That was to say that while her personality was decided in part by her morals, it was outweighed by far in where the other person fell within her tenets. She lived rigorously by a code.

What else could one say? That her foremost duty was the observance of her vows without rest, without ceremony or pretense? Only a commitment that she would continue to endeavor towards, day by day. That she would seek out every remaining source of corruption and wipe it out if she could, for she must; the alternative was a world where the strong would always prey upon the weak without recompense. Not a future she would have liked to dwell upon.

For those who had no truck with evil, as well as those she served in the Household of Vené Tanyakoettir, Ranna was a woman known to be trusted, reliable, and determined. And at times even ruthlessly so, depending upon the task asked of her. It was something to be respected, and she cultivated it, however unintentionally, by treating all those who crossed her path with an unbroken word and unerring courtesy.

When she gave her word, it was almost always to be kept.

And like all great knights of yore, her courtesy helped maintain her above image. Even those she knew to be enemies, either present or potential, were yet given civil reply when spoken to; she rarely made herself the cause of discord, whether through word or deed.

Only when youthful insolence was tempered by discipline, zealotry by selflessness, did the knight reach a point where she understood herself to be a servant of the people, both to the individual as she was to the whole. Even as her devotion remained, it was but a distant whisper of a more egregious animal, nowadays redirected in healthier ways than the indiscriminate thrashing against a world replete with nuance.

Unlike those she pledged her service to in the trade city of Saknne, her homeland in the northernmost reaches of Amol-Kalit was a different story altogether; the women of the village of Mavallos had no other choice but to reject the pampered lifestyle of those who lived in the great urban sprawls of the south.

Her childhood amidst the villages of the great desert meant that she inherited a far more difficult existence. She could not afford to blanch at it, as the only person in custody of the girl's safekeeping was herself, no one else. It was a fact of life that matured someone faster than their few years in this world might suggest.

To those villagers, life had never been a kind thing, nor ever one with luxury.

Therefore they had adopted a way of living more suitable to their environment. Where even the children learnt all manner of skills from a young age; how to hunt, forage, survive in the wasteland beyond the safety of walls and constant vigilance by a village militia. Ranna as a child learned more of a world without comfort than most would in the entirety of their lives.

So it was not such a strange thing to have accepted an offer that promised a life worth living for, and dying for. Where souls made angry by circumstance could be refined into blades capable of cleaving through even the most stalwart opposition that stood against them. And at a young age, a still angry girl accepted the calling.

The Priestesshood of Wrought Spears accepted all who knocked upon its gnarled doors, finding no lack of acolytes capable of enduring the endless training that entry into their order would promise. The angry girl who had been accepted in the ranks found the rigorous training easy enough; not a day went by where she felt her muscles hadn't yet been pushed beyond exhaustion, in one fashion or another.

But it was the beginning, a fleeting glimpse of how the rest of her life might look.

And as the months passed into years, Ranna found that she had outgrown much of the anger that had sent her to join. The freedom from it was a welcome sensation, as to continue in the way she had - vengeful and full of hurt - would have placed her immortal soul in danger. As for her body, she had welcomed one and every challenge all.

Eventually her duties had taken her to the cities, whereupon she met the Lady Samirya, soon to be Lady Vené Tanyakoettir.

To say they fell in love would have been an misinterpretation to most, for it was a platonic kind of love that the two women shared for one another. And they had met only by circumstance and a sense of duty, for the Priestesshood of Wrought Spears did not shy away from the task of bodyguarding, however looked down upon by other orders it might have been.

Ashamed as she was at the time to admit it, Ranna had enjoyed the presence of the cultured woman and her outlook of a world once narrowed by an overweening sense of duty. She had been prepared for difficultly, as she always had, but found the mission to be one where there was more than enough time to sit, and talk.

They were of a similar age, that had helped a little to bridge the overwhelming gap of lived experience.

When the Lady Samirya asked for the continued service of a woman who intrigued her as much as she had intrigued the noble woman in waiting, she had been unable to say no, at least by the end. At the time she had demurred and continued on with her service to the order, finding more comfort in the familiarity of routine rather than the gamble of abandoning it all for an uncertain future.

Until the day her own sense of duty, ironically honed by the Priestesshood, was what pushed her to finally leave its sanctuary. Not that they were duplicitous in their purpose, or shamed her in some way to serve, but it was first and foremost a business where their tributes ended in filling the great temple's coffers. To then be used for greater things; to be spent on community and expansion of their holdings, as much as their tenets promised.

They were not selfish in her eyes, but they were not as intent on the singlemindedness they had trained her for. And perhaps not quite as altruistic as she would've liked, having been raised by their own holy institution that preached a great deal of things.

And so she left, simple as that. An amiable affair colored little by drama.

Ayl-Maltene Ranna Anakanos had served them well in many ways, all of it dutifully performed until the very end. She was permitted to leave with her marque of service and enough references to carry her through the brief period of unemployment. Not to mention the offer that yet remained - the service to the House Vené Tanyakoettir


While there was little to say of what the following years would bring, as so much of it was the same as her life before, it was a life still wracked by all sorts of events, both big and small. Her service to her new House bringing with it its fair share of incidents, mishaps, and duties that often took her much further than the safety of the walls and gates of Saknne.

At some point she would earn all those colorful titles of hers, such as 'the Immovable' and so on. She hadn't encouraged such a thing but neither would she completely disregard them, knowing the sobriquets to either be apt or well-deserved.

Whether that was due to the actions she took on behest of her House, or of the several knightly orders she held a... tenuous membership towards, it was rather difficult to say. All she knew was that she enjoyed the work presented, and held to her vows wherever and whenever they might be made.

Perhaps most notably to her lady's children, one Sitra Vené Tanyakoettir in particular.