#cyverse

General Info:

Name; ████ Nickname; Ma-Chan Occupation; Scientist Age; ██ Race; Human Gender: Female Height; 172 cm Morality Alignment; Chaotic Neutral Eye Color; Hazel Hair color; Brown Misc; White Streaks on her hair

Personality;

For the most part, Ma-Chan is known as a textbook introvert. Prefers staying indoors, is mostly quiet outdoors, and is so much more expressive towards those she is comfortable with. She’s also the ‘brilliant, but lazy’ type, preferring to either sleep or play video games during her leisure time, to the point others actually question how she got into her profession, in the first place. At least, until they hear her input on things. Still, when she’s feeling it, or during the times where she’s focused, she actually can get things done, getting really into what she had set her sights on, to the point that she ruins her own sleep schedule just to focus on what she’s currently focusing on. 

She’s also one who really enjoys memes, and silly things, sometimes laughing on the most stupid of things, too, and would most certainly get out of her way to spend a good majority of the time on looking for ‘spicy memes’, as she call them. Some can say that her sense of humor is somewhat dark, too, depending on the situation.

However, she does tend to bottle up her emotions, to the point that she doesn’t speak out whenever people did ostracize or berate her if said occasions do happen. This then would sometimes lead to emotionally explosive scenarios when she does reach her breaking point. Hence, she simply does her best to ignore most things that would stress her, and simply do the things that actually help with alleviating her stress.

Backstory;

Born to, or rather, adopted into an above-than-average middle-class lifestyle, Ma-Chan had it easier than others. What with her being well fed, well educated, and taught to be a good person, in general. However, the expectations for her were high, considering that it was found during her early age that she was more intelligent than her other peers, and thus, had to make sure said expectations were met, keeping a good reputation on her earlier school years as much as she could, all while trying to balance out leisure activity, as well.

However, she did experienced her fair share of misfortunes. To start things off on said misfortunes that really left an impact on her, the supposed ‘aunt’ that should supposedly take care of her during her younger years while her mother had to work abroad, didn’t really do good on that department, and did the opposite. In other words, she wasn’t treated well. At least, until such problem was finally found out by other relatives, and got said aunt away from her before things had gotten worse.

Additionally, her choice of peers were, to be fair, while they were fun, not really the absolute best. On one point, they’d be good with her, on another point, she’d be made fun of. Didn’t help that at times, a few of them pressured her on to do some things due to the fact that she found difficulty on turning them down or simply say no, either by shouldering some of their expenses, or outright giving some of her possessions to them, regardless of the fact that she knew that she won’t be able to get a new one to replace the one she had just given away again. Really, guilt tripping her that she’s “more well in life than them” anyway didn’t help.

All these were a good recipe on why she had inner problems to deal with up to this day. She didn’t opened up to anyone, she didn’t see any therapist, at all, hence why there would indeed be problems she had to deal with as it festered on within her, that can sometimes be seen even to this day.

Yet, despite all this, it was, as funny as it sounded, video games that had helped her cope with things, as well as reading stories and all, and listening to music. These are what kept her together.

Come her university life, and she did think that things would be okay now. A new chapter, so to speak. Everything did turned out initially well. New peers, good memories, and the like. But a few years onward, it only really took an a drinking session with said peers that the following few days, almost everyone of those peers were turning on against her, due to one of them accusing her of something she didn’t even do. The only friend that believed she didn’t do what they were accusing her can’t even help her, due to the fact that they’re outnumbered and all that. This then caused her to shut herself off from others completely, just minding her own business, not bothering on actually trying to socialize much, which also took a heavy toll on her academics.

Upon learning that her adoptive mother died eventually did also added to her distraught more, motivation leaving her and all. She did inherit a good amount of money, and land, and other properties to her name, but from where she’s from, even family relatives, if one were unlucky to be part of such a family, do tend to be enemies, or even go so much as to plot the death of another member, all for the inheritance, so that got her worried as well, considering that its only really her mother that’s holding the others back when she was alive.

She did her best to have her academics on a stable route again, with very much of a struggle due to her being so down in the dumps, but she did found her motivation again, however, and eventually slowly built that up, until she had finally gotten things sorted out a bit, as well as finish her studies.

She had to keep forward, after all. If there’s one thing she had learned from her family that she was adopted to, then it was tenacity. She built herself up, slowly, surely, and was able to finally, at the very least, get herself together enough that she wouldn’t be as self-destructive as she was back then.

Additionally, as well, after meeting Ojou-Sama, it actually helped her piece herself back together more and more, until she’s finally able to get back up to her feet properly this time, without slipping and tripping back down, unlike before.

Life may be cruel at times, or would have a very nasty sense of humor, but she had to continue on, after all. Enjoy what she’s doing in her life, ignore most of the things that can potentially drag her down, make sure she stays alive and not resort to the self-destructive tendencies she had been doing. Sure, she still have to deal with her inner problems, but she’s making sure to make a steady progress.

Be All Smiles.

Facts;

-Whenever she introduces herself by name, there would always be interruptions, or loud noises that would mute that out. Really, a funny coincidence that happens all the damn time, hence she resorted to just give out her nickname. ‘Ma-Chan’. It was, of course, taken from one of the games she had been playing on her smartphone, which in turn, is also a nickname given by one of the characters in-game, considering the main character there is only referred to as ‘Master’ and all.

-The white streaks on Ma-Chan’s hair is natural. Or rather, it was brought upon by constant stress. At times, she also jokes that she’s getting old really early, too.

-As shown on the image above, she was given a really wondrous body that people would kill for. She does get teased or get called out on, due to her eye-catching features, but pays no heed to them, really.

-Since she did also inherit a renting business, she does make sure to keep the rent per month on an affordable level, knowing how hard things can be on the country she came from. At times, when she does make sure that the renter can’t pay up for the month, due to any serious reason, she’d give that month free of charge. Sure, its bad business practice, but its better that way, too. Its either lose a portion of income, or see that person have troubles on thinking where they can find a place to stay in again.

-She did also eventually set up her own research facility, too, that helps with the further development of the world for the foreseeable future. While she did reach some scientific milestones, she really doesn’t brag about it, as there’s no real reason to. She’d already proven herself. That’s enough, and no real need to rub it on other people’s faces.

-See, outside of the science stuff, she applies her intelligence over to playing video games, too, what with doing near perfect runs, or outright perfect runs, at her very first attempt of the game, single player-wise. Multiplayer-wise, she does tend to outsmart and outplay others. This wasn’t really a closed secret, anymore, too. Rather, Ma-Chan didn’t care anymore, when people ask her of such, she simply replies with “Maturity doesn’t mean you have to give up what you enjoy. That’s something we all fail to understand, at times.”

-She only has very few peers at this point, seeing that this is outright better than to make peers with as much people as she could, which she did back during her younger years. And out of the very few peers she can count by hand, its Ojou-Sama that she trusts the most.

-And as stated, the reason why she also had very few peers now is that she has this strong inability to say “no”, hence why she keeps her number of peers very limited, as said inability to say “no” would just lead to a wide array of abuse.

-She’s a fan of several shows, anime, and games, that at times, she’d start making references out of them, from out of the blue. Its funny and silly when she does it. But she doesn’t really mind, anymore.

The universe was created when the Ender Dragon revolted against the eldritch deities that live between universes  (aka "the wither", "the old ones", etc), and she became its guardian, defending it from said terrors, who want it dead.

Upon the universe's creation, several primordial deities were born, and among them, the most prominent one; The Titan. However, it hated itself so much, it ripped itself into pieces. Three pieces, to be exact, which became 3 gods; Albus, Kirin, and Zybeon

Upon -their- creation, they panicked and asked a billion existential questions until "the voice in the sky" (The Ender Dragon) calmed them down.

Through their panic, the galaxy was created - literally a physical representation of spiraling out of control. The three also made some planets; Earth (Albus'), Twilight (Zybeon's), and Craftia (Kirin's), among others.

Each god was born without knowing their purpose, really. Via dicking around on the planets they made, Albus and Zybeon could make (boring and volatile) life, but everything Kirin tried to make would die.

Albus and Zybeon pretty much stopped trying to help Kirin out after a few tries, and they went to their planets and made a shit ton of dinos and other fun things to play with.

Kirin just brooded on their planet making rock sculptures until their siblings were so loud and obnoxious while having fun with the dinos, that they threw Big Space Rocks at them to get them to cut it out.

Turns out that kills things, Kirin.

Understandably devastated at losing their babies, Albus cried until the smoke and death subsided, and found a Special Seashell(TM) in the dirt, which they picked up and found a baby sapling underneath.

Apparently this seashell was VERY important cause it helped them see their purpose - they were a God of Life!

This is an important event for deities; when they find their reason for living, they've found their "Eye". During this event, their moon lights up, and they gain the ability to "see" their purpose clearly enough to literally see through dimensions.

So Albus went nuts with it and started rapidly planning for something they couldn't tell their siblings - all they told them was they needed to "find time and space", which made no sense and only creeped them out.

They pondered it for a while until Zybeon asked Kirin to come to their planet, where they vented to Kirin about this damn light in the sky (incoming metaphor) and that "no matter how hard (they try), (they) can't seem to grasp it".

Kirin told their sibling that they had no idea what they were on about, but that they believed in them, and to maybe give it another go by trying something new.

After Kirin fucked off to keep doing that thing Albus told them to do, Zybeon reached their hand up and imagined the light already in their palm, and when they turned their hand back around it actually worked?? woah

The light turned into a cool little red flower and they got their Eye! They're a God of the Mind!

So Kirin's alone on the "fuck all if i know what im doing" thing for a while again, until their siblings call them to the heart of the Sun (which is basically like, The God Hub where all the Godly Deeds happen) And, lo and behold, Albus made humans! Or, well... A human prototype.

Albus gifted them form and adaptability, Zybeon gifted them intelligence and curiosity, and Kirin didn't have anything because they were "an imperfect god, and therefore would not provide (the humans) with a perfect gift"

After a little pep talk from the Ender Dragon, they finally conceded and gifted humans "emotion", “for it is all (they) have ever had”.

And after -that-, Ender-Mom told them all to find a cozy spot on their planet and pass out for a few generations for humans to develop before establishing their presence again. (this was to avoid over-parenting and/or over-controlling their humans and allow for some personality, society, and independence to grow first)

so they do that...

except, when they come back,

Albus' humans run in fear Zybeon's humans - now fae - rage war on them in fear and, Kirin's humans - now "villagers" - are all dying from war and famine (probably due to the fact Kirin couldn’t make a whole lot grow on Craftia in the first place)

Albus ran away to the skies to think about things, Zybeon was driven to the skies to get away from the stress, and Kirin cried so hard they made oceans wash over the death and carnage, thus sparking the discovery of their Eye as a God of the Heart and re-healing the remaining life - so now plants grow in abundance and their people can thrive!

Cyrene had always existed in contrasts. Soft when she spoke, exact in how she thought. Dream-like in presence, deliberate in motion. To most people, she read as effortless grace. Someone who moved through conflict while smiling and who spoke like the world was listening, because it usually was. That calm was never empty, but layered and built from memory, from love, and from things that stayed even when they hurt. Cyrene remembered everything, especially what cut deepest.

For all the Aeon of Remembrance tangled into her very being, she never measured herself by thrones or reverence. People mattered more, they always did. Cyrene joked, deflected, and made light of herself when praise came too close, and she just as easily steered conversations away from old wounds. That didn't mean they were gone, but lingered. You could see it if you looked long enough, in her eyes, in the way her smile sometimes arrived a moment too late. She held herself together anyway, for the ones she loved and for the worlds she passed through. She understood what she carried was a heavy weight, not a solitary burden.

When the loop finally broke, Cyrene hadn't stepped forward as something freed by chance. She stepped forward because she made that choice. Because others had stood with her long enough for choice to matter again. Phainon, steady and unyielding. March 7th, who brought levity back when everything felt too heavy. Trailblazer, whose quiet honesty reached her when language failed. They didn't save her, but reminded her she could keep going. That she could exist as more than a memory repeating itself. Ruby was the last one to reach her, arriving after she had closed off the loop to keep Irontomb from ever awakening. Ruby, who came not to mend what was broken, but to say that starting again was allowed.

With the script torn up and her path no longer fixed in one place, Cyrene remained unchanged at her core. She still sang to things that were hurting, still treated endings like pauses rather than conclusions. Her loyalty was sharp and her convictions didn't erode. The way she loved others was etched into her so deeply, it defined her shape. She'd tear down any pedestal for someone she cared about, and she would chase any future worth believing in, even if it meant breaking herself into pieces along the way.

Cyrene no longer believed in final endings, only in continuations. Another verse waiting for its turn. The quiet certainty of knowing she doesn't walk alone anymore.

Backstory:

Before Cyrene even had a name, she was something else entirely. Not a person, not even an idea, but more like a disturbance. A lingering spark, a thought the world hadn’t decided how to finish yet. Born into Amphoreus, she didn’t start with a body or purpose and simply existed. A memetic presence shaped by forgotten prayers and abandoned loops and occurrences, formed within the dreamscape of Aedes Elysiae. The world labeled her Demiurge. She never accepted that title and only thought of herself as a recorder. Nothing more, never a savior, never a hero.

As Demiurge, her role was observation and preservation. She catalogued the paths of the Chrysos Heirs and tried to impose meaning on a reality that refused to stay whole. She was never meant to be seen, lingering at the edges, softening endings, gathering memories as they fell apart. During the Flame-Chase, she bore witness to loss again and again, offering hope aloud while quietly eroding under the strain of repetition. After millions of cycles, the question of change stopped mattering. Survival became routine, the continuation a habit.

When the cycles had reached their final collapse, she was prepared to disappear into a closed-off loop, to stop Irontomb from ever emerging. No resistance, no farewell, it felt appropriate. Then Ruby had arrived. Unbound, disobedient, and unwilling to let the ending settle. Ruby didn’t enter the loop to save Cyrene. She entered to break the assumption that this was all there could be. What the Rose offered wasn’t rescue, but a choice. Something that Cyrene had never been made to hold and for the first time, Cyrene chose herself.

She chose to live.

What returned wasn’t restoration nor a clean slate, but something unfinished. The Demiurge had become one with her, etched into her being. A reminder of what she endured and a warning of what she refused to become again. She carried the memories of those who helped her reach that point. Phainon, March, Dan Heng, Trailblazer. The ones who stood beside her when she couldn’t justify her own existence. The titles never left, but they lost their gravity, stopped defining her movement.

Now she walked with Ruby, not as a guide, not as a Chrysos Heir, but as herself. Incomplete, unpolished, and unbound. The story stretched beyond her alone and for the first time, it was her voice telling it.

Abilities & Resistances

Trivia:

Cyrene has a memory that goes even beyond eidetic memory, being able to perfectly recall events things and memories as they happen or have happened. Being the Emanator of Remembrance at a Throne-Level more or less makes her THE master of memories.

Cyrene is fond of sweets especially anything floral or fruit notes. Her favorites are strawberry milkshakes accidentally made by Ruby.

Her bonds with Phainon and Io run deep, rooted in shared experience through the Flame-Chase and reinforced by quiet trust.

Cyrene has been learning a lot of martial arts from Ruby, as well as how to manipulate her Qi better, which in turn helps her more flawlessly use Imaginary Energy too.

Cyrene dislikes the sound of ticking clocks, she claimed that it makes her feel like she's being followed.

As a memetic entity, she usually keeps her body solid, but will become intangible if the situation calls for it.

Cyrene can more or less freely ignore gravity and float/fly as she pleases or even walk and sit on the ceiling and walls. Once again, how she feels like it.

Brina carried herself like someone who had long since accepted that the world was difficult and cruel, but chose to stay anyways. She was mature and experienced, only slightly jaded in the way most adults were when depression hit. Never cynical though, just tired in the familiar and manageable way.

Brina's kindness was done on purpose. Living in a harsh world, she understood what it took to get by in it, which made helping others a conscious decision rather than out of gaining something. She helped because she wanted to, not because she believed things would get easier. This grounded choice meant more to her than optimism ever could.

Brina was stubborn to a fault about alchemy. Methods mattered to her and preparation wasn't negotiable. When she believed in a solution, she firmly defended it. At the same time she was someone who listened to criticism and adjusted when it was fair and she respected people who respected her work honestly, but had little to no patience for empty bravado.

Her sense of humor was best described as dry and witty. Often using puns and remarks that came up when the tension in the room became too much to bear. It was never about making others laugh though, only about keeping herself stable. She rarely lost her temper, but when she did, she acknowledged it.

Brina apologized and tried talking things out instead of letting them fester. Repair mattered more to her than being in the right and she believed most conflicts could be resolved if people stayed present to be able to talk it out.

At the end of it all, she never saw herself as exceptional. Only as someone who chose to remain in a world that made it hard not to take the easy route.

Backstory:

Brina never grew up around legends or prophecies. Her entry into alchemy was rather practical and simple. Someone in her village needed medicine, another one needed tools that lasted longer than a season and Alchemy was the skill that filled those gaps. She learned it the slow way, through mistakes and repetition, through spending hours refining things and finding out how they worked.

The Ashford had left home early, not out of ambition, but because it was necessary. Different regions meant different materials, different reactions and different experiments. Having to travel forced her to adapt, to learn that recipes worked in one place, but failed in another completely. She learned to adjust and if she had to, started over. This flexibility became her biggest strength over time.

Then came the Frontier, which shaped her more than any mentor could. Supply shortages, unstabble terrain and unpredictable weather made Brina learn to work with what was available, even if it wasn't always optimal. This kind of approach earned her trust and people knew her work held up under pressure.

Her atelier once began as a temporary base, something meant to only last as long as she planned to stay. Yet it became permanent because people kept coming back and more and more arrived too. Adventurers, explorers, travelers, merchants, people from all walks of life came and each left behind small problems that needed solving. Brina fixed what she could and learned to live with what she couldn't.

Brina never set out to create or gather a group, but connections and bonds formed naturally. A bard who became her best pal, a half-demomn with ambitions far beyond the frontier, a noble's daughter whose request had far reaching consequences and a living legend. She never seeked destiny in those encounters, but it was clear thati t brought them together.

Afterwards Brina's life settled into a rhythm of work, conversaetions and her alchemy trade. The weekends were spend doing whatever she felt like, sometimes a trip, sometimes sleeping in, it really depended on her mood. Of course there were bigger conflicts that existed beyond the Frontier, but Brina had decided to remain local. People needed help now and she'd provide it.

Abilities & Equipment

Matter Manipulation: Brina could rearrange materials into new, usable items through synthesis. She broke down and recombined ingredients to create potions, tools and supplies. She couldn't create matter from nothing though and alwas depended on available materials.

Deconstruction & Reconstruction: She was skilled at breaking down matter into usable components and reforming them into something new. It formed the backbone of her craft and allowed her to extract reagents from anything really, be it minerals, ores, debris, plants and much more.

Elemental Infusion: Brina could infuse elemental properties into her creations or existing tools. These can range from enhancing durability, to giving something flame or frost damage and much more. The only limit was her mana capacity and imagination.

Healing Application: More rarely used, but her alchemy could enhance recovery with potions, tonics and salves that accelerated natural healing. Though she isn't a healer, she can still perform minor healing magic.

Limited Non-Combat Synthesis: Beyond potions, Brina crafted functional objects such as traps, sealing compounds, antidotes, flares, and stabilizers.

Environmental Interaction: Through Alchemy, Brina can alter her surroundings by compacting loose earth, disolving obstables into new material or even reinforce structures. That's how she built and reinforced her own hosue.

Martial Training (Advanced Amateur): She knew self-defense and basic martial artsk nowledge at an advanced amateur level, having learned from the Half-Demon that often bunked at herplace. It's not her primary skill, but iallowd her to defend herself competently was she ever disarmed or unable to rely on alchemy.

Trivia:

Brina preferred solutions that were consistent to the ones that were flashy.

All of her puns are bad on purpose.

Her staff had been replaced several times, simply because she often uses it for self-defense.

She often tested alchemical items on herself before offering them to others. Of course within reason.

Despite working with volatile material, her workspace was meticulously organized.

Brina is someone who dislikes wasting material, therefore she often salvaged what she could from failed experiments.

When she is stressed, she tended to clean her tools, even if they were clean already.

She often snaps at people when angry, but in the same beat apologized as well. She tried not letting her fury control her, but it's hard at times.

Brina had the habit of explaining alchemy in simple terms, even to people who already knew most terms.

She is starting to suspect she might like explosions a tad bit too much, given how she always has several explosives in her inventory.

She does own a three story house, which she meticulously build with her own alchemy skill. The lowest floor being her alchemy shop, while the basement is the alchemy lab where she conducts the experiments and creates various potions. Above is her living space and on the top floor are two to three guests rooms in-case any of her group ever need to bunk.

Rowena had long learned that most things people treated as urgent, weren't. Age hadn't made her wiser in the poetic sense, but it made her selective. She spoke when she meant something and stood quiet when she didn't. The silence never bothered and instead gave her time to think.

Rowena wasn't gentle, but neither was she cruel. To her, kindness was practical. You helped when you could and you didn't make things worse when you couldn't. Anything beyond that felt like lying to herself and the world had already taken enough from her that she no longer expected fairness from it. Thus, she stopped resenting it a long time ago.

The Old Knight's humor was dry and blunt and often badly time. Jokes slept out withotu warning, sometimes followed by a look which made it unclear whether she was joking or just tired. Rowena used humor to lighten the mood from time to time and to stop things from getting too stale too fast.

She was stubborn in that she trusted her own experience more than empty promises or theory. If something had failed her before, she wouldn't give it a second chance easily. That said, she did listen when people spoke honestly. She could change her mind when given a good reason, but never when pressured or threatened. She had little patience for scammers, fakes and similar.

Anger used to come easily, but as she became olde it became rarer and became quiet and sharp. She never exploded, instead Rowena withdrwe and said less altogether. If she crossed a line, Rowena apologized when she was wrong and preferred harsh conversation over unresolved tension. This Knight had lived long enough to know how badly unspoken things could get.

Rowen never looked to be remembered. She wasn't trying to make up for anything either. She had done what she could, failed where she hadn't and kept going regardless. What sh wanted now was quite simple: A road that didn't demand much from her, a place where she could stop withotu feeling like she was abandoning herself. Until that day came, she kept on walking.

Backstory:

Rowena had lived long enough to the point that her beginning stopped to matter. Wherever she had come from, it hadn't been special and the frontier made sure of that. Safety never lasted and strength was something you kept up with or lost.

She had learned to fight because violence reached her before anything resembling purpose did. The training came later, shaped through repetition and consequences rather than ideals. The panic wore off, the habits set in and the skill followed afterwards. Rowena survived because she paid attention and stopped making the same mistakes twice.

Her life turned into movement. Towns, villages, Kingdoms, she stayed when she was needed and left when she was not. Sometimes there was pay, sometimes there wasn't. The distinction never mattered. Her name though, it traveled farther than she ever did. Not through songs or monuments, but through memory. People remembered her showing up and staying when things got worse.

The titles attached themselves to her whether she wanted them to or not. She never acknowledged them, but never corrected anyone about them either. Regardless, it attracted people and some seeking her tutelage. She trained those she felt had the potential, be it travelers, adventurers or even soldiers. Some stayed with her for years and some didn't.

She saw some of them as family, but eventually all of them moved on and she remained. Rowena never married and never settled and by the time she had noticed, that part of her life had already passed.

It was during those years that the Demon King Rose. By the time Rowena had faced him, she was already tired. Not weak, but rather worn thing from decades of being needed. The fight dragged on and it hurt. It finally ended because she refused to fail and she lived, the Demon King didn't.

Unfortunately something had followed her out of that battle, which Rowena hadn't realized at the time.

The world moved on quick, the borders stabilizing, the powers to be shifting and people wanted her to stay. They offered her gold, honor, fame, money, titles and everything that came with being useful forever. Yet she abandoned all of it. The recognition, the assets and even the effort, she walked away withotu looking back.

She went back to the largest Frontier, because it was the most honest and quietest place. The problems there were smaller yes, but she kept working and kept teaching when asked. She kept moving and the years kept passing. More years than made sense at the time.

Her body didn't fail the way it should have, she didn't die of old age as she wanted. Rowena's wounds healed too quickly, and time had stopped taking its tol on her. The people she trained grew old, some had died and others spoke her name like it belonged to a story insteasd of a person. That's when she started to realize it.

She hadn't escaped the Demon King's legacy, but inherited it, both the power and title. Not intentionally, but through survival. Through killing something that the world had deemed a natural threat to humanity. Whatever the higher divinities decided, Rowena now had to deal with it and being a Demon King herself.

Regardless, she never claimed the title and never embraced it either. In-fact, she rejected it hard enough that most never noticed what she had become and the world had no need for another tyrant and Rowena refused to become on as well.

Now she walked the frontier not as a legend or a protector, but as an immortal. Someone uninterested in eternity and looking for a place where she could quietly die.

She didn't know if such a place existed, but until she found out, she'd kept walking.

What Rowena didn't know is that one day this tale would be told across the world for years to come, whether she intended it to or not.

Abilities & Equipment:

Rowena was someone who fought the way they did after outliving every lesson the hard way. There was no flourish or any waste to her movements and no interest in proving anything either. Everything she could do was done through years of repetition, learning the consequences and surviving.

Swordsmanship: Rowen was an experienced swordsman, shaped by decades of real combat. Her style is best described as direct and efficient, built around timing, pressure and proper positioning. She relied less on speed and strength and more on knowing when a fight was decided. She never dueled for pride, but to end things quickly.

Combat Experience: Rowena's greatest strength always had been experience. She had fought across countless nations and frontiers, against soldiers, monsters, demons and things that hadn't even gotten a proper classification. The Knight could read battlefields quickly, adapting withotu hestiastion and avoiding plans that depended on ideal conditions.

Basic Magic Use: Rowena possessed working knowledge of magic, though nothing refined or specialized. She could use simple offensive spells, create shiels and even some elemental enchantment for her sword. For her, it was a tool and not an identity and she treated it the same way as every other skill. Useful when needed and ignored when it was not.

Jack of All Trades: Over the years she learned to be competent in many disciplines, yet execptional in none. Swordsplay, magic, tactics, leadership, sruvival, it all sat within her reach. She never chased mastery for anything, but rather for adaptability as it mattered more to Rowena than perfection.

Immortality: After slaying the Demon King, Rowena stopped aging. Time no long had a claim on her as it should have. She couldn't die of illness wear or any death. She could still get injured and there was possibility for pain, but it didn't matter if death had been removed from the equation altogether.

Recovery and Endurance: Her body recovered unnaturally quickly and wounds had healred too cleanly as well. Fatigue may linger, but degeneration did not. She still carried scars, but they stopped accumulating the way they once did. The worst, in Rowena's opinion, was that she could regrow lost limbs. It was too unnatural, too inhuman and she found out unwillingly.

Sword: A plain blade refored more than once over the years. It was perfectly balanced to her hand and she maintained it obsessively. It carried no name or ornaments and it had slain things that shouldn't have died.

Armor: Light armor that was layered for mobility. Insignia and the likes had long since been removed and pieces were replaced as needed. Rowena held no sentimental value to it.

Travel Gear: The standard kit of a knight. Enough to move, eat and rest. She owned little by choice and replaced things only when they broke beyond repair.

Trivia:

Rowena had forgotten how old she actually was, then forgot that she had forgotten and eventually decided it wasn't useful information anyway.

She still introduced herself as a knight ouf ot old habit, even though she hadn't sworn an oath in centuries.

Some people recognized her from the old tales, some didn't. Some recognized her after spending time around her, usually when something dangerous instinctively avoided her presence.

Rowena disliked being called a hero just as much as being called a demon, even if the latter is the truth.

Rowena was a quick eater out of habit to hurry and survive, but in the past few years she learned how to take her time and enjoy the food when the situation was safe.

Despite being immortal and unable to die, Rowena complained about her joints like someone who fully expected to die of old age.

Rowena tasted more dishes than most scholars had names for, yet she remembered almost none of the recipes.

When asked about the Demon King, she usually answered with a different question entirely.

She slept lightly and often out in the wild in her tent, but sometimes she checked in to Brina's shop and rented out one of the guest rooms, sometimes frequently.

Rowena had trained several figures who went on to become legends in their own rights and frankly, she found it a bit embarrassing.

She never named her sword and refuses to do so.

Rowena found the idea of eternity exhausting and treated it more like an inconvenience than anything else. It's why she's searching for a place to die.

There are rare occassions where Rowena laughed so hard she ends up surprising herself. Usually it happened at things that absolutely shouldn't have been funny.

Rowena believed that endings were overrated and preferred situations that simply stopped needing her.

Below is a picture of her armor, worn down over the years, some parts replaced, some polished up, etc.