Nymeria, Female, Nyalcom

[nymeria]

Name: Nymeria Valdis
Age: 233
Gender: Female
Pack: Nyalcom
Desired Rank: Alpha Female
Appearance:

Nymeria is a young woman with a shock of tousled, often tangled blonde hair and a wiry frame. Between these features, the mischievous glint in her large brown eyes, and her fiendish smile, she looks feral even when walking on two legs. Her movements are jaunty, and swaggering, but not without an odd grace. There is a hungry look to her that has only a little to do with her thinness; she has the manic look of a woman never sated.

When transformed, Nymeria passes as a long-legged wolf with a white-blonde pelt. Though tall for a wolf, and especially so for a female, her structure is lean. The litheness of her human body only becomes more exaggerated in the wolf's almost gaunt silhouette. Her fur is often matted from fording ice-cold rivers, or streaked with mud after crawling belly-down through underbrush. A fresh kill never fails to stain her maw crimson.

If Nymeria is beautiful, hers is the beauty of the dangerous undercurrent of nature.

Personality:

Nymeria is an opportunistic predator who rarely lets something like honor get in the way of victory. It's not that Nymeria is afraid to die; quite the opposite. She'll fight eagerly even when the odds are against her... but she'll fight dirty without a second thought. If the woman had a motto, "All's fair in love and war" wouldn't be too off the mark.

Prone to chasing potentially fatal entertainments, Nymeria enjoys provoking the easily provoked. She'll act unexpectedly to keep an enemy off balance, or even just to a look of surprise on their face. In combat she is ruthless and extremely deadly; she's made a name for herself by defeating larger, stronger, more experienced opponents.

Despite her vicious reputation, Nymeria has also been known to show mercy to those who yield. Her ferocity against her enemies is in service of her pack, and she fights for them without question. While her own personal safety doesn't seem to concern her overly much, she is shrewd and clever when it comes to leading the Nyalcom.

History:

For Nymeria Valdis to become Alpha was one part love, two parts luck, and three parts cold-blooded murder.

I. Love

Nymeria's mother, Elaine, was a lone werewolf, and without a pack of her own, fell in love with a human man. Their romance progressed swiftly, and it wasn't long before Elaine was with child.

She turned her lover without permission and without warning, coming on him like a grey terror in the night, fangs and fur. It was just one bite, and Elaine fled afterwards, only slinking back to their home the morning after. She'd done it on the dark of the moon, so that there was a full month before the first change, hoping that it'd give her lover the strength to survive it.

He did, but not without consequence. In the day after his first change, Elaine confessed what she'd done, and that she was pregnant. They fought and argued, but ultimately did not separate. For a few short months, they lived in peace, until the day the hunters arrived.

They were self-fashioned wolf hunters, and it had been easy enough for the to track down a newly turned werewolf and the young mother with a swollen belly. They were driven from their home, and took refuge deep in the forest, living in a cave set over a waterfall. Eventually the hunters stopped searching, and one night Nymeria's father pronounced that the next day they would leave to find another home, a real home.

When they left their freezing cave that morning, the morning light was bright and the air was cold. The spray from the waterfall cast up prisms of rainbows, and everything tasted of freedom. Together, Elaine and her consort took their first few steps into their free life.

The man lost his footing on a wet-slick stone, and with barely more than a surprised "Oh" fell over the waterfall. His neck was broken instantly when he landed on her jagged rocks below.

II. Luck

Wandering alone, hungry, cold, and very far along in her pregnancy, Elaine could barely stand to keep herself going. One particularly dismal night, with a baby kicking inside of her and hunger gnawing at her core, she began to seriously consider taking her own life. She didn't have a proper blade, which would make it difficult, but she could find a cliff of her own if she tried. It would be kinder to end things now than bring a baby into the world which she couldn't care for. The woods were too deep, and even if there was game, she couldn't catch any in this state.

That was the night she was discovered by Nyalcom scouts. They instantly understood her for a loner, and she begged her case before them, and then again before their Alpha and his partner. She was taken in, and in less than a week gave birth to a squalling, underweight daughter. This was her first great stroke of luck.

Several months after Nymeria's birth, Elaine bonded with a Nyalcom werewolf and took his last name. Cort Valdis was the head of the pack's military. A weapons master in his human form, and a nightmarish beast as a wolf, Cort was nevertheless a loving husband and a dutiful father. Though her mother was always distant, Cort didn't seem to mind that Nymeria wasn't his own flesh and blood. From a young age she trained with him, and naturally grew into a devastatingly talented warrior. When she began to transition into young adulthood, Nymeria would frequently go on scouting missions and even raids with the reset of the pack's most elite fighters. Her pack brothers and sisters (though mostly brothers) respected her prowess, and her fellow soldiers would die for her - and her them. Nymeria's mother may have been a loner, but Nymeria had never been anything only than a Nyalcom wolf.

The second stroke of luck came when she was training with her fellows in one of the combat pits. They had set up a mock tournament, and she was holding her own against males who outweighed her and could easily overpower her if she allowed them to get a good enough hold on her. "It's not about size or strength or speed, Nym," Cort would always tell her. "It's about who wants it more." And no one ever wanted to win as much as Nymeria Valdis.

The Alpha, Duren Olar, had been searching for Cort that day. Duren was a somewhat short man, but powerfully built and attractive, his hair a shock of black with that was just starting to grey. When he found the man at the combat pit, he glanced down without thinking much of it. An hour later he was still there - had taken a seat to watch - when they dragged Nymeria up and out of the pit. She'd been bleeding from a dozen different wounds, some worse than others, and had a dislocated shoulder. She could barely hold herself up for her exhaustion... but she'd won. And whatever Duren had seen in that battered, blood-smeared young woman, it would change the course of Nyalcom history.

III. Rulin

Nymeria had been made part of Duren's personal guard, and by now the rest of the pack's military-minded wolves were practically her own to command. Not only were they extremely loyal to her, but Duren gave her almost full leave when it came to dispatching them. She knew them in a way that he didn't, and he often deferred to her judge of character. The son of the Alpha male before him, Duren's family had passed down leadership for centuries. He had lived a relatively soft life, though he had a taste for songs of glory and enjoyed reading books about grand battles. He fancied himself a warrior-at-heart, but his skill as a fighter was mediocre at best. Still, he was no coward, and he loved the thrill of combat. Perhaps that was why he began infatuated with his little warrior pet, and named her Guard Captain.

Duren's interest in Nymeria very slowly, and very subtly, began to cross the threshold of propriety. His Alpha female, Seriss, did not appreciate the insinuations, but she was not inclined to add to the gossip by trying to throw Nymeria out. She did act coldly towards the young blonde warrior, however, and wasn't above the occasional verbal slight. Neither of these things ever seemed to trouble Nymeria at all.

When Duren received word that the Rulin Alphas were claiming to never have descended from the Nyalcom, he flew into a rage. The split had been a festering wound for his family for the entirety of their leadership; from father to son the hatred was passed down, intensifying instead of fading. Only Duren's son, Coenthal, seemed to be different in this regard. The young man had no love for the Rulin, but he didn't froth at the mouth every time he thought they'd slighted the Nyalcom in some way. Even though his son argued that words were wind, and the Rulin could say whatever they liked - it didn't make it any more true, Duren would not let the injustice stand.

When the raid and assassination were being planned, Nymeria came to Duren alone. "Let me help you," she'd said. Then she'd told him her plan. Duren listened, and after a time, agreed.

Months later, the sounds of screaming and tearing flesh and howling and metal clanging on metal filled the air as the Rulin estate was attacked. Duren had raced to meet Nymeria, raced to meet the Alpha who would dare deny his true lineage. She had promised to corner him, or lead him astray. Then, Duren had thought, I will have my revenge, and the revenge of my father's fathers. He ran as swiftly as two legs would carry him, down a hallway of the family's castle. At the end would be a door, and through that door would be the circular room at the base of a main tower. There, the lie that defined his family's history would end. He reached the door, and already tasting his retribution, let it swing open. It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at.

Nymeria stood over the crumpled human body of Rulin's Alpha male. Blood spread beneath them in a dark pool, so thick that you couldn't see the stone beneath. She was human too, but blood painted her mouth and cheeks, running all the way down her front. With that much blood, it was hard to tell if she'd torn out the Alpha's throat as human or wolf.

Before Duren could question her, Nymeria walked to him. It hadn't quite struck him yet that he'd been robbed of vengeance, or that she'd tricked him. Was it a trick? Had she ever said that he would be the one to kill the Alpha?

"His death is yours, Duren." Her voice was thick, coated with the blood of his greatest enemy. "You slew him, in a great fight. Single combat, Alpha to Alpha." Nymeria stepped closer to him, and the heat of her victory seemed to bake off of her. "The stuff of legends," she purred, and Duren met her eyes. They weren't their usual brown, but a smoldering, molten gold.

"Yes," he agreed dully. "Yes. I slew him." Nymeria smiled at him, and then pressed her lips to his. Something inside of him trembled, drew away in caution. This woman was dangerous, and this was the first time he thought that he might not be able to control her. That she wasn't a weapon to direct or a beautiful warrior at his side to make him seem more regal, more glorious. All those nagging thoughts went away when her tongue touched his.

He could taste the Alpha's death, and it was enough.

IV. Loose Ends

Nymeria waited until the Alpha's son, Coenthal, was away on some extended mission. The time came when he left to patrol along one of the pack's outermost territories in a mountain range. The plan was to spend half a year on the other side, making sure that the pack's territory was kept in tact had was being respected. Once they received word that he'd make it to the other side of the mountain range, and that snow was now falling heavily along the passes (as it was won't to do that time of year), Nymeria approached Duren.

He looked at her differently, after what had happened the night of the raid. Part of it was lust, but there was something almost like fear there, occasionally. Not fear of her directly, but fear of what she was capable of. Fear that perhaps he was foolish enough to love her, and that she did not share the sentiment. Part of him had been broken when she'd kissed him, the blood of Rulin's Alpha still on her lips. As time passed, he'd realized that it was because he'd confronted his own death there, too. Duren Olar had become jarringly aware that he was mortal, that he was no true warrior, and that if his name was remembered in songs it would be for a deed he hadn't done. He might have hated Nymeria for all of it, and especially for the last part, but he couldn't bring himself to. If she hadn't killed the Rulin Alpha, it could have easily been Duren's blood on that tower floor. That, and he loved her.

Which was why she was able to convince him to let her challenge Seriss for the right to be named Alpha, to lead by his side. Duren put up a good fight - he was not so ignoble to immediately dismiss his partner, and they did have a grown son - but the resistance had been futile. He found he couldn't deny her, and even though he knew he was coming undone, he couldn't stop himself.

It could barely have been called a combat; Nymeria very quickly dominated the other werewolf, possibly out of mercy. When she gave Seriss a chance to yield, the older wolf didn't take it. Nymeria didn't give her a second one.

V. Wedding

Though a messenger bird took word to Coenthal about his mother's death and Nymeria's new position, he gathered his small escort and began to head back at once. With the snow in the mountains, he'd never make it back in time.

It was a ritual of the Olar family, that on the day of the wedding, two partners could ask a boon of each other. Either could ask for anything they liked, and each was obliged to do everything in their power to satisfy that boon. The female of the pair went first, and Duren recited the traditional line. "What would you ask of me?" When his turn came, he planned to ask for many children.

Nymeria did not hesitate. She never did. "Single-combat. To the victor, Alpha of Nyalcom. To the loser, death."

It should have surprised him, but it did not. And even as the cries rose up around him, some outraged and others holding them back, all Duren could say was a soft "Oh."

VI. Alpha

Though Duren put up more of a fight than Seriss, the battle was still over quickly enough. I was a full, Seriss. He thought, shifting back to his human form as he drew away from the blonde wolf before him. I will see you soon, and tell you how sorry I am. As his fur gave way to flesh, claws to fingernails, and fangs to regular teeth, Nymeria watched him. It was a sign of surrender, but he knew very well that he would not live beyond this fight. To the loser, death.

Nymeria began to transform as well, until at least she stood before him, the sunlight as pretty in her hair as it ever was. Duren was bleeding heavily, and didn't stand. He had to look up at her from the dirt; she'd mangled one of his legs.

"Why?" Duren asked, because it seemed important. He'd accepted his fate. Perhaps he'd known this woman would be his destruction all along. After letting others believe he killed another Alpha, after permitting Nymeria to challenge Seriss, he deserved this. Still, he wanted to know why. He would have given her anything, had already made her Alpha. What else could she desire? Was all this death and chaos done simply to prove she could?

The warrior stared down at him. "Because you are weak."

Duren had thought he was beyond caring, but he had been wrong. That was more painful than any of his wounds; to hear that the woman he'd given everything for thought him weak. I'm a greater fool than I even knew. He imagined all the times he'd tried to regale her with accounts of his glorious battles, which had been sparse and distinctly not glorious. What a fool.

"Nyalcom needs strength of arms, true leadership. Nyalcom needs an Alpha that would do anything to make her truly great. You are weak. Attacks have been increasing along our borders for a hundred years, and rather than quell them, you rage over the petty insults of another pack."

Words are wind, Duren remembered his son saying, trying to advise him. Yes, words were wind, and Nymeria had eaten the words of Rulin's Alpha, just before she'd eaten his throat.

"The downward spiral stops here. The day of Olar rule is over." Nymeria stepped towards him, and someone handed her a dagger.The other soldiers, Duren realized. Yes. They adored her. They had often requested leave to defend the outer territories, or even to conquer the unclaimed, and Duren had repeatedly denied them. The lands his father had left them should be plenty enough, he had reasoned. And when even those had grown smaller, lost to neglect or rivalry, he had done nothing. If a battle wasn't grandly fought for some noble cause, he'd wanted no part in it.

"Nyalcom will rise," Nymeria said in a low voice, as if it were a promise. In one fluid motion she leaned down, and with a flick of her wrist, opened his throat. The dagger was so sharp he barely felt the chill of the blade before his own hot blood was pouring out. As his life pumping out of his new second-smile, Duren heard the deafening roar of soldiers chanting.

"Nymeria of Nyalcom!" They shouted. "Alpha Nymeria!"

Though the world was going dim at the edged, Duren looked upon his killer. Her eyes were that same brilliant color that he'd seen the night she'd killed another Alpha. Molten gold.

Silently he prayed that they would look on him one last time, before he left this world. They did not.

Relatives:

Mother: Elaine Valdis. Alive.
Foster-Father: Cort Valdis. Alive.

RP Sample:

RP Sample: t didn't take long to find him, but Mazikeen wasn't really expecting it to. He was a familiar face within the guild, and not exactly difficult to track. She couldn't know if he would entertain her company or not, but she knew he'd be too proud to alter his usual courses of action to avoid her. Besides, how could he avoid her? Even she barely knew what she did with her days.

Mazikeen waited, sitting on the overhang of a building across from where the Horde battlemasters gathered in Shattrath. She leaned against the stone behind her, one of her legs hanging down, the other propped up. She wasn't thinking anything: her mind was blissfully blank. Her objective was simple for the moment, and she wasted no energy wondering or fretting over how the meeting would go.

Whatever was going to happen would happen, and that was just dandy for her. Besides, no use stirring up that damned confusion again. So she lounged, tucked in the shade, eyeing the place where the battlemasters called the fighters out of the conquered (or lost) territories.

She cricked her neck to the side, hearing a few of the joints popping. Then, she saw Alkaiser. He was a good head shorter than the trolls and orcs pouring out of a recent battle, but the bright silver hair was easy enough to spot. Mazikeen watched him for a little while longer, wondering if he'd head right back in again. They'd all done that hadn't they? She knew plenty of the old Silverguard had hopped from fight to fight, contested territory to contested territory.

No sense waitin' more. Mazikeen pushed of from her perch, and landed quietly on the ground below. Making sure she was in his blindspot (it looked like he might have been putting his name down for another battle) she walked over to him. It wasn't long before she stepped up beside him, looking over his shoulder. "I'm sure they can make do without one more knight on this run, eh?"

Other:

Other Characters:

[~Nighthunter~]

Accepted

Really good job on the history, you did not go over board, I enjoyed it.