Name: Lycia Burkett, Standard-Bearer to God Empress Vincinia of Kress
Race: Half Orc
Sexual Preference: Lesbian
Weapons and Spells:
The Breaker - The weapon of her father, it is her only inheritance from the orcish side of her lineage. A hefty stone blade stolen from the grip of a statue of a long dead kingdom, it is not mystical in nature... it is simply quite dense and heavy. Its tip has long been missing, the entire weapon measuring three feet in length, only two of it "blade", if it could be called such. Blunted from years of disuse in the hands of her father and his father before him, the stone blade is more a bludgeoning weapon than anything else.
Banner of Kress - The once proud colors of a kingdom trampled underfoot a decade ago adorn Lycia's weapon of choice. The verdant green and blue of the flag are long faded, but the crimson remains impossibly vibrant... as if frequently refreshed by the blood of her enemies. The business end of the halberd is dull and dirty except for the gleaming and frequently sharpened edge.
Stalwart - A gift of the God Empress, her armor was forged by dwarven crafters commissioned by Vincincia herself. It is well made and light despite its massive size, and is otherwise unremarkable save for a peculiar spell placed upon it that makes it always close at hand when Lycia has need of it.
Righteous Fury - A gift of her heritage, despite the rigorous training and discipline of her human upbringing, the wild viciousness of her orcish side smolders inside. When she is set upon a task in battle she is unstoppable, ignoring all but the most telling wounds until after the battle haze fades.
Eyes: Black, though they are said to glow blue when she is in the grip of a frenzy.
Skin: Dull green
Height: 6' 9”
Weight: 230 lbs.
Lycia is a roadmap of pain, reddened scars are strewn across her body, their origins as common as blades to some which seem suspiciously like bite marks. Her face remains untouched thanks to the habit of wearing her helm into battle to protect her eyes. It is the only part of her toned frame that has not been pierced or burned by the caress of war.
Despite her roughness, when not in her armor, she dresses in a manner befitting a knight... though like her body, the elegant velvets and silk are heavily disused. Stained and tattered, her garments were likely once exceedingly expensive before she wore them to numerous battles. When questioned as to the nature of the suspicious stains and tatters across her vest, she tends to explain it away with a demure, "You should see the other guy..."
The Island Kingdom of Kress stood untouchable for three hundred years, its God Empress appointed by mandate of the Five Lords at the corners of the world. Over a decade has passed since those words held any meaning. Lycia Burkett stood at the side of the God Empress Vincincia when Kress was laid low, her years of devotion and discipline leading her down a long path to failure.
A missionary of Kress, Lycia's mother traveled the world of Sileona, spreading the gospels of her homeland. The Five Lords that protected the Eternal Kingdom surrounded by the sea and stone walls that had not been challenged in centuries. It was outside these walls that her mother was raped by one of the savages of the Unenlightened Lands. The fruit of the coupling was born within the walls of Kress, and were Lycia of a lesser family, she would have been put down as a nameless shame. But her mother shared the name the God Empress once owned before she was elevated to the throne and given her divinity.
And though half the blood in the babe's veins was that of a monster, noble blood weighed down the other half of the scales. Thusly she was raised as all women of the holy lineage, bearing the burden of a life of discipline and honor. Forced to restrain her orcish tendencies, she still found solace in the blade, excelling at combative arts far more readily than her other courtly studies. Devoting herself to a life of duty, her mixed lineage keeping her from raising too high within the noble hierarchy, she began a career in her early teens as a Retainer to the nobles and missionaries of Kress who were sent abroad.
The silent shadow of Kress' vocal nobility, she soon garnered a reputation on both sides of the wall, one that eventually saw her recruited into the personal guard of the God Empress. She was given the honor and privilege of carrying the standard of Kress, a banner that had hung over the head of the God Empress in all of her previous incarnations, back to the beginning, when the first stones of the wall were laid out. She would have spent the remainder of her days in this task no doubt, guarding the standard and its unending Empress... until the Tyrant came.
Unchallenged for centuries, the sheer power of his forces overwhelmed the arrogant city that was so long protected by the sea. The God Empress gave Lycia her final task as the flames grew higher, a list of missionaries and nobles who were beyond the wall. Amongst them she would find the one worthy of the banner and the seat of Kress. The Empress was unending after all. The Five Lords who held up the corners of the world had already chosen Vincincia's successor. Lycia need only find her...
Eleven years have passed, Kress largely forgotten except in snide jokes amongst those of the Unenlightened Lands. No one speaks of the Five Lords or the Corners of the World. No one knows of the glory of the God Empress or remembers her warm smile. It only took Lycia three years to confirm that all of the people on her list were dead and that the Lords had abandoned the people of Kress, assuming they had ever existed in the first place.
The faith of her homeland had been a fanciful story. There was no reward waiting for her loyalty. She was the sole survivor of a kingdom three miles across, that had arrogantly thought they were the favored children of gods that didn't even exist. The philosophies and ethics she had spent her youth learning were based on myth and wishful thinking. Yet this revelation hardly gave her a moment's pause.
Even if her God Empress was mortal after all, Lycia had known her. No one was alive to speak for the glory of the Five Lords or Kress, and the world was well rid of those lies. But Lycia had known the warmth and secret fears of a woman who had been a Goddess to her people. If she were not divine and beyond the reach of blood, Lycia would have called her grandmother.
No one spoke of Kress anymore... but they still spoke of Lycia and her banner. They would speak of her fury. And so they have, even as the tyranny spread and darkness looms, there are those who still talk of the vicious last daughter of Kress. She hides amongst the half-orcs, rallying troops on an impossible crusade of vengeance. Not one for pretty stories and fables, she still pays heed to the Dragon Kings and has come out of hiding once more to see that the spark of hope these new heroes bring is fanned.