Knights of Tezoth

Alsira Vecchi d'Arcrede



Milady Alsira Vecchi d'Arcrede, Knight of the Moon Shadow from Forum, servant of Ciel Pinkoflight


The fateful union of a doom-laden deck cuts the game short.
A ring of treachery births the radiance of a sorrowful star.
The universe of the old light will dim.
Constellations of thousands that are ten in another.
United by fate, united by the finale, united by the outcome.
Is it a delight to the spirit, or poison to the heart?
The last question flickers in the mind.


276
Alsira's first life memory was herself: as if watching from the outside a curled-up little bundle, cast against its will into this unjust, much-suffering world. The second was her mother's eyes: sky-deep, relieved yet sorrowful, filled with that caring love of which no other living creature is capable. In those gentle eyes dissolved the sadness and loneliness of a thousand-year imprisonment, and every last particle of the past scattered away. She remembered nothing more from her infancy.
Alsira's mother passed away shortly after childbirth. In the crimson rays of the summer sunset, the bloody harvest paid its cruel toll for the soul that had been born. Somewhere in the fields, a lone raven cawed hoarsely.

279
Children sometimes like to gnaw on anything, but Alsira surpassed all her peers in that regard. The maids of the Vecchi household wandered about with hastily bandaged hands: once the little girl sank her sharp teeth into a finger, all was lost!
She endured bathing procedures only slightly better than sunlight: it seemed something subconsciously instilled in the girl an unshakable aversion. Much later she trained herself to endure them without inner discomfort, but alas: no pleasure was to be gained from taking baths or sunbathing.
And her hair color and eye shade resembled neither her father nor her mother. Had it not been for the family's solid reputation, this could have become grounds for all sorts of gossip...

282
When Alsira threw tantrums, strange things sometimes happened in the Vecchi estate. Tableware exploded in the servants' hands, cabinet glass shattered, wall lamps fell. Once she "shot off" the ear of a jesting kitchen boy; at least the lad himself swore to it up and down.
Friendship with the neighbor children also did not work out. Once, before the eyes of her astonished playmates, the girl sank her teeth into the throat of a gift kitten. The wound, of course, turned out to be trivial and the pet was unharmed. Alsira had no more friends or pets after that.

283
That year, noisy festivities were held in the capital... And quiet Forum saw the return from the front of Alsira's elder brother, heir to the Vecchi line. He returned a cripple embittered at the whole world, with only one surviving hand — and that one missing a pair of fingers.
"You think I went with Deus out of a sense of duty, of high ideals? Ha! I simply could not stay in the same house as you, you fat lump, and that spawn that killed my mother! One more day, and I would have strangled her with my own hands — but now, as it seems, it was not meant to be!" — he shook his stump before his father, spitting with rage.
Soon the brother was moved to a city apartment closer to the infirmary. They never spoke again.

285
Young Alsira could not stand the Kanamian missionaries. Not a month passed without her father inviting those costumed, prim clowns and other religious charlatans. Fingering heavy rosaries, jingling medallions and crosses, they took some measurements, babbled incantations, shook their heads in resignation, whispered something to her father, then pulled sweaty skullcaps over their bald spots and hastily scurried away — not forgetting, of course, generous donations for the needs of yet another church. The girl understood little of that nonsense, but certain phrases about "possession," "a curse," and "an evil spirit" did reach her.
On one such day, the child was placed in the center of a circle chalked on the floor with some runic symbols around its edge. A young priest with sun imagery on his robe made her recite the words of an Aconian prayer. At some point, little Alsira's insides were engulfed in flames, and a deep scar briefly appeared on her neck. Until that day she had never felt such pain and resentment, never seen her father in such anger, nor a preacher in such fear. At least from then on, the religious inquiries ceased forever.

286
The house of Vecchi d'Arcrede is a young shoot on Tezothian soil. In literal translation, Vecchi means "ancient" or "age-old," and Arcrede is the name of the settlers' homeland. Like celestials descending from the great solar city during the Age of Discovery, the descendants of this ancient dynasty settled in the central lands. Hot Sanbornia, progressive Kanamia, peace-loving Olivus — each of these regions was open to cooperation in its own way, but the last of them proved dearest to the current branch. Alsira's ancestors brought with them astonishing military technologies, historical sciences, marvelous crafts, and even firearms.
Unsurprisingly, this surname soon joined the ranks of distinguished Tezothian families. The girl's father bore the title of Knight of the Oak Grove. Huge as an oak and just as broad, this man nevertheless had a good-natured disposition and a sensitive soul. For a peaceful region, these qualities were quite acceptable.
The Vecchi household lived by the Aconian calendar, drilled the titles of illustrious forebears, shared the secrets of the solar kingdom and of peoples forgotten in an even more distant era, the skills of a legendary martial school... But the little girl herself never managed to find in her soul acceptance of even one of these concepts. She felt neither Margel by her father's line nor Tezoth by her mother's. She was a stranger in this world.

287
The enormous library, occupying the entire western wing of the estate, soon became Alsira's favorite place. There, among the faceless bookshelves stretching up to the very ceiling, the girl hid from the nagging governesses, and on lonely nights she would read herself deep into the faded stories of a long-gone past.
Her favorite reading was a collection of tales from the era of her family dynasty's founding. When her soul was especially sad, she would open the volume about a brave company in the service of a divine princess. Their motley adventures charged her with positivity, and the hot-air balloon scene made her laugh sincerely.
When her heart craved heroism, she would pick from the shelf the story of the adventures of the founder of the Vecchi dynasty. According to that fable, their forefather, hailing from Arcrede, led a company across half the world, outwitted an invincible sorcerer, won victory in the arena while cursed, bent an ifrit to his will, slew a sand monster, rescued his future wife from the clutches of treacherous pirates, destroyed the beast that had ravaged his homeland, took first place at the capital's tournament, clashed in battle with a holy demigoddess and emerged without a single scratch, saved the empire from a skeleton king, found nineteen ancient obelisks, and much more besides...
But Alsira's favorite remained the thousand-page romance between a mysterious foreign priestess and a hardened scoundrel with a hope for redemption buried deep in his soul. That tale held a special place among her innocent-romantic fantasies and dreams, displacing more useful scholarly knowledge and sciences. Only as she grew up did she sadly conclude that such a fantastic fairy tale could not possibly be a product of reality.

288
Whether it was the influence of literature, the fruit of a vivid imagination, or the result of some other cause, from then on her dreams often returned her to events so illusorily distant that the very integrity of her consciousness and perception of reality was involuntarily called into question. In some, she gave orders to a gang of cutthroats; in others, she soared above land and water; in still others, she created black holes in the middle of the battlefield; in yet others, she drank human blood... But the ending remained invariably nightmarish: in it, Alsira was always beheaded by an unknown man to whom she had entrusted her heart. She did not know his name, did not remember his face, did not hear his voice, but she knew in her mind that he was her past, present, and future, each time waking with a frozen scream in her stiffened body.

Around this time she became seriously interested in sewing and small crafts; she made various trinkets, dressed self-tailored dolls, gave them the names of characters from her nightmares, and acted out scenes from ancient chronicles. She was not allowed beyond the family courtyard, and no new acquaintances among her peers appeared. After her mother's death, her father received almost no guests, so no interesting pastime could be counted on besides reading literature and playing at doll expeditions.

292
On her sixteenth year, her father was scolding Alsira for yet another missed lesson when his face was suddenly twisted by a heart-wrenching grimace, and he collapsed right in the middle of his study. Old man Vecchi never managed to recover from the stroke, becoming a hostage of his massive body. The Knight of the Oak Grove withered and crumbled literally before one's eyes... Barely able to move the tips of his trembling lips, he whispered rare instructions and orders to the servants, sinking further into oblivion with each passing week. Trusted people continued to handle family affairs, the Vecchi holdings noticeably thinned out, and the business passed to partners.

293
Accepting the inevitable, Alsira visited her elder brother. Deep down she hoped to find forgiveness and support: though disfigured by war, this man was to take the head of the Tezothian dynasty. But establishing friendly relations was not to be:
"..Are you a witch or a Sithi, or some other spawn of filth? Did you think I wouldn't guess? First you killed my mother, then you crippled my father, and now you've come for me? Enough! I will not allow you to defile the sunlight any longer!"
In an instant, the emptied bottle in the cripple's hand was replaced by a pistol; two shots followed with wind-pellet rounds. The first struck Alsira in the chest, the second splattered the man's own brains across the wall.
Bleeding out on the dirty floor, she thought this was probably a deserved ending. But instead of the expected peace, with a new beat of her fluttering heart, her consciousness was flooded by a chilling vision of the raven stranger, and her soul was filled with frosty terror. She realized she very, very much did not want to die. Somehow turning onto her side, the girl crawled to the dead man's hand, from which blood streamed in a crimson trickle... She never found the strength to report the incident to her paralysis-bound father.

296
Today, yet another match picked out by her father fell apart.
"..My family is wealthy but not distinguished, while your dynasty is known and respected but lacks heirs, milady. There would be no word "love" in our union, and I do not wish to spend my life beholding the echoes of suffering on your charming face."
Planting a farewell kiss on Alsira's chilled hand, the suitor hastened to leave the garden. Compared to the previous candidates, he seemed to her the most worthy young man. He had not even been fazed when the girl, in fright, knocked the engagement ring from his outstretched hand. The servants then spent until noon searching for him in the estate's thickets.

Alsira always knew that her duty to the family name would take first place in her life. She was ready to greet her husband after his service surrounded by a host of merry children, to faithfully defend his name in high society, to surround him with care and love, to keep the home hearth cozy — and yet..
At every moment of closeness or trust, her soul was seized by the mortal terror of imminent death. A feeling infinitely ancient yet just as vivid, like a parasite lodged in the back alleys of her subconscious. At first she convinced herself that this sensation was caused by feminine immaturity, restless character traits, and a vivid imagination, but in the end she concluded that what lay behind it was that very romantic emotion which some unknown force would not allow her to experience.

297
What is life? Every action, every thought seems woven from the threads of an invisible puppeteer, written by the pen of a faceless author, entangled in the web of ephemeral reality and déjà vu. She had seen all of this before, but in a different cut, spewed forth by chaos.

Mornings and days until sunset the girl spent in bed or reading; evenings in administrative work and household matters; sometimes she molded all sorts of absurd trinkets and ornaments. Of the numerous staff of servants, only time-tested people now remained in the Vecchi estate; most of the rooms stood empty, doors shut, shutters lowered. She did not find it attractive to reveal her peculiarities in high society, though she herself appeared there often: conversing with interesting people and friendly meetings helped dilute the haze of fabricated memories. She also went out on assignments for the stewardess of the local lands; not for nothing did the family motto of the d'Arcrede house contain the words "Loyalty, valor, family."

But Alsira's favorite time remained the nights. As soon as the last rays hid behind the plains' horizon, she would soar into the sky above the sleeping flower gardens on her pegasus. Darkness dispelled only by the pure glow of the moon, the whistle of wind in her ears, pleasant coolness on her face, the mad world frozen in repose beneath her feet. It seemed her very being futilely strove to reach the pale night luminary, each time cut short by the limits of fragile human nature.
..At what moment the deceased Knight of the Oak Grove was replaced by the Knight of the Moon Shadow, she did not remember herself.

At dawn, gathering a fresh bouquet of flowers, the last heiress of a thousand-year dynasty would visit the oak grove that spread a little way off from the estate. They said this particular breed of tree had been preserved and carried through the ages from their native mountain land. Crossing the grove, Alsira would bring the flowers to the family crypt. The silent guardian statues met her with stony indifference.
Recently, her father had been added to the family section of mother and son. One last spot remained.


Gender
Women of Tezoth receive +1 to Trainability

Attributes
Mind: 10
Body: 14
Insight: 15
Energy: 24
Aesthetics: 17

Skills


Olive
The character skips a turn but restores AP.


Turning Point
As a team leader, in exchange for 1 AP the character may withdraw themselves and their allies from combat, provided their ability to move is not restricted. They may also spend 1 AP to instantly refresh the turns of all their allies. Both parts of this ability may be used only once per battle. Acting alone, the character may also spend 1 AP to non-lethally take down a single target, provided that target does not pose a high-class threat (a dragon terrorizing peasants, a knight, etc.). This part of the ability is also used only once per battle and with the character's weapon.


Spear
The character may use a spear without penalty.


Riding
The character may ride horses and other animals.


Jeweler
The character may improve equipment in exchange for AP and one unit of ikazkan or ifillium alloy.


Leadership
The character may pass their turn to allies, +1 to allies' SP.


Grace of Revaniel
The character may restore health and heal from negative effects, injuries, and illnesses by drinking another's blood.
Protection from mental influences.
In exchange for 1 AP, the character expends a specified amount of health and deals corresponding damage to all targets on the attack line (range: map).


Dance of d'Arcrede
+2% to evasion per unit of Energy, receives no defensive bonuses from equipment.
The character does not require a healer's attention to survive if they dealt no damage in this battle.
In exchange for 3 AP, deals 50% spirit damage to the enemy, doubled for each target slain by them in this battle, and always hits.
- A philosophy of asceticism and peaceableness that became the foundation for a special self-defense training program. As the founder of the dynasty said: "Be a mountain stream that weaves among sharp cliffs; in the hour of need, become a raging torrent that shatters even the hardest stone."

*Forgot to ask whether Trainability is spent on the dynasty perk, so ±1 in the remainder

Equipment
Right hand: Flower Needle.

- An exquisite spear forged by the master smiths of Forum and reinforced with Aconium alloy (bad description, if anything); the grip is bound with ash from the grove near the estate; engraved with the d'Arcrede heraldic initials and the dynastic oath.
Left hand: -
Body: Elegant attire.
- Embroidered by the finest masters of Forum; with this, one need not be ashamed either to appear in high society or to represent the lady in resolving regional matters.
Head: Neck scarf.
- Made of soft silk in snow-white tones. (without the clasp as in the pic...)
Legs: Mirror shoes.
- By the hand of a master from the solar city, they seem as if fashioned from dark crystal. Despite their refined appearance, moving in them is more than comfortable.
Hands: Patterned cuffs.
- They complete the aesthetic look, yet do not hinder movement when using weapons.
Shoulders: Flower mantle.
- The design includes a colorful combination of flowers native to Forum and the oak symbol of the Vecchi house.
Other 1: Broken sword.
- According to family legend, this weapon was once wielded by the founding father of the Vecchi house, named Linearс. A gift for great merits presented by the goddess of light herself, alloyed and enchanted by the greatest masters of a forgotten era, with it the glorious warrior performed his epic deeds. It is believed that after his soul turned to the light, a bolt of lightning struck the blade, and the unbreakable edge shattered into fragments. By established custom, every heir of the house must carry the sword's remains with them, awaiting the hour when the goddess deems them worthy to reunite the blade once more. Over the past centuries, however, no reliable confirmation of even a single such case has been found.
Other 2: Family signet ring of d'Arcrede.
- The seal depicts the dynastic crest with the capital letters of the family name. Its design was undertaken by Fantassius Vecchi — the second most renowned representative of the dynasty. It was under him that the archives were gathered together, reliable chronicles of the ancient era and of the family's own origins were recorded, and the traditions and customs they follow to this day were established.
Other 3: Family miniature.
- A smaller relative of the large portrait adorning the drawing room of the Vecchi estate. Commissioned from a renowned regional artist. It was painted shortly before Alsira's own birth. In it, the whole family was happy for the last time.

- Pegasus named Luna
- Spare horse in the stable at the estate

Inventory
50 gold
Flask of healing potion. Restores 50% health, has five charges that recharge in towns.
Vial of blood. Wrapped in the packaging of a simple medicinal remedy.
Jeweler's tools.