House Varodyr[Looking For More Members]

[KoTo 610]

 

 
The former Adunian clan and Oren noble House MacCray, House Varodyr is a noble house lead by Lord Malric Varodyr. Having cut all political ties to the Adunians many years before, House Varodyr is completely and utterly sworn to the the Divine Emperor. The Varodyrs yearn to serve the Church, the divine Emperor, and the Creator’s will. Religious, patriotic and zealous in nature, the House does what it believes is best for the glory and will of the Creator and his servants. 
 

 

History

 

Founding

 

Cray abandoned his own non religious Adunian family. Left with his wife in search of a better way to serve God and his country. Cray left for Aegis, wandered for a while and after years of journeying, found his way to Al’Khazar where he decided to settle. Cray served the Church the best he could, being a man of great piety. Over time, his family expanded, not with Elves as was the Adunian way, but with Humans. Angus, his son, served the church, as his father had before him. His son took on his name, MacCray (son of Cray) and carried the name down for generations.

 

So went the years for Clan MacCray, leal servitude to the church and to Oren and the blood continued getting ever more diluted due to the MacCray’s exclusion of Elves in courtship to the family. The men who served the military were simple soldiers, it could never be said that the Clan of MacCray were extravagant. They preferred this life however, and most importantly, it kept them humble.

 

Tales of House McCray

 

A great sense of piety and devotion allowed James MacCray to execute the rebelling Nords. After the barbaric Nord’s rebellion had crashed and burnt, King Enor ordered the death of all the surviving warriors. James loved this duty, he ended the lives of the blasphemous Nords with pleasure, which gave him the nickname of “the Executioner”. James would not be the first to go above and beyond for servitude of the Empire.

 
When the undead assaulted Galahar, George MacCray noticed a priest stuck in a burning church. In the chaos that ensued, no one noticed the priest, except of George. George risked his life to save the priest but at a cost, he was terribly burnt. George MacCray received commendation for saving a priest from Undead assault on Galahar. George’s bravery earned him the nickname of “the Saviour”. The loyalty to church and state never wavered, which was why those in the family who blasphemed, would be banished. 
 
There was never any reason for this to happen in the family until Michael McCray. As the cataclysmic events that were spelling the end for Aegis were beginning to unfold, Michael's son lost faith in the church and began to blaspheme. Michael McCray “the Vigilant” would have none of it, his son was disowned and cast away from Clan MacCray. The name of the son seems to have been erased from family history due to how heinous his blasphemy was. It would stand as a warning to all further family members to stay loyal.
 
Thomas MacCray is perhaps one of the most honoured family members of Clan MacCray. In Aegis’ final apocalyptic hours, Thomas performed a great feat of bravery and gave the greatest sacrifice of all; his life. Thomas selflessly stayed behind to ensure that the last of the citizens could travel through the Verge portal. Thomas’ nickname “the Martyr” was given to him by his family members in honour of his extreme bravery and courage. Thomas MacCray was presumed dead, as he did not come through the Verge himself. Thomas is held in the highest regard in the MacCray family, an aspiration for all family members to be.
 

A generation had passed since the transition between Aegis and the new land, named Asulon. Oren had divided, been destroyed, warred with itself and been reunited once more by the Divine Emperor Godfrey. Roy MacCray, the grandson of Thomas the Martyr, had heard much of their kin, the Adunians and their slow return to their “former glory”. He had taken it upon himself, to reunite his family with their kin as they had in the days of old. And so the family moved to Ildon and slowly began to live amongst them again. He had wed a 2nd cousin of the Chivay brothers, Elena Chivay and had 4 children, Maric, Eric, Noah and Kyle. Roy had become close to Count Artorus Elendil, the leader of the Adunians. Artorus had taken such a liking to him, he had him knighted. However the bliss didn't last for long.

 

Blood Mage Massacre

 

It was the dead of night, Roy was away at war. It was just Maric, his mother and his grandfather. Maric had gone to the study, lying by the fire and playing with the family hunting dog. His mother and grandfather were still sitting in the dining room, talking about various subjects. Suddenly the screams of the servants outside could be heard. The front door was kicked down and two tall hooded men walked in, their robes a deep blood red, with different marks them. The two at the table jumped up and stared at the men, wide eyed with fear. The dog jumped from Maric and ran out the house, while Maric went to hide behind the door, looking through the gap, watching the two men. One of them reached his arm out in the direction of Maric’s grandfather. He clenched his fist and suddenly the grandfather dropped dead to the floor. Maric’s mother reached over to a large bread knife on the table.

 

Maric burst out from behind the door, running at one of the Blood mages. But he simply held out his arm, moving his fingers about to control Maric. He stopped him dead in his tracks while the other one did the same to his Mother. The first blood mage motioned with his hand and his mother walked slowly and oddly towards Maric, she looked as if she was fighting it but to no avail. As she reached him, the Blood mage raised his arm slightly and so did she. He was controlling her like a puppet. She brought her hand with the knife towards Maric’s face, tears streaming down her own, whilst Maric stared wide eyed with fear. As the knife made contact with his flesh, he screamed out in agony, tears now streaming down his own face. The knife cut deep into him from the right side of his nose all the way down to his jaw line. The blood dripped down his face like a waterfall, mixing with the tears. Once the knife had finished its line, Maric was tossed to the side through the magic once more. He looked up from the floor through tear filled eyes, barely conscious. He looked towards his mother who was looking at him with such sorrow. The Blood Mage controlling her moved his hands around some more, forcing her to bring the knife back down, but this time towards herself. Suddenly she thrusted the knife into her own gut, quickly bringing it upwards towards her chest, causing a large vertical gash. The Blood Mage released his hold over her and they both left the house as she fell to the ground, dead.

 

Rise of House Varodyr

 

A four years after the funeral of Elena MacCray (previously Chivay), Maric and his brothers went away at sea around the Holy Lands for a little over a year. They trained, the fought and they grew. But when they had returned home all had changed. The MacCrays had been granted nobility within the new Holy Oren Empire. Barons of Rivia. Roy MacCray was not the man he used to be. He was solemn, he was always disinterested and often spent his time behind closed doors with the now Duke Artorus Elendil. Reports of the Rhodirs, age-long enemies of the Adunians, rising up again, taking arms and stirring trouble. Maric knew something was happening, but he never spoke against his father. Things were quiet for a year. A single year. But once again, everything started to go downhill.

 
One day, whilst inspecting the site of the new and improved Rivia, Lord Roy was ambushed by a group of the Rhodir. They spoke in a foreign tongue and wore strange iron masks. They shot an arrow through his knee and carried him off into the darkness of the night. With his father’s mysterious absence, Maric was forced to take over the running of House MacCray and the organisation of the new Rivia. For months, search parties were sent out to find him, but with no avail. The construction of Rivia continued and Maric dealt with all the affairs of House MacCray, yet still no word of Roy.
 
Yet one day, the sound of trotting hooves could be heard outside the Ildon gates. The Rhodirs, rode into the town, their iron masks on and armor shining. Maric ran out of the house, his Messer sword drawn along with many other town guards. Though suddenly everyone stopped, as Duke Artorus came out of his keep and walked calmly towards the intruders, unarmed. A few words were spoken as Maric began to shove past the crowd that had gathered, trying to see what was happening. And then he saw his father, lying down over the side of the leader’s horse. His leg was bandaged but covered in blood. Duke Artorus nodded to the leader, who then allowed Maric to come closer and help his father down. Shocked at what had just happened, Maric wasn't in the least interested in questioning the Duke over what had happened. But he knew something was not right.
 
Weeks had passed since his father was released from captivity and though he could walk, he could not do so without a walking stick. He didn't seem to be getting either. Each day, he seemed to be getting sicker and sicker, complaining of pains in his legs and getting occasional fevers. The doctor had suggested that Maric take over the duties of the House, to keep his father as stress-free as possible. But when House Elendil were involved in a rebellion conspiracy with House Tarus and Duke Artorus was slain, this was becoming ever more difficult. All eyes were on the Adunians and Maric was ashamed. Ashamed that his kin were so treacherous do even be involved in something like this, whether they complied or not.
 
Over the next year, Maric began to distance himself from Duke Torrhen Elendil, Artorus’ son, and the rest of the Adunians. He was disgusted that they were involved in something against the Divine Emperor. But he did not speak out for fear of stressing his father. For a year or two, things were quiet. If the Adunians were plotting again, they were doing so in secret. The construction of the city was coming along well and all was well...except for Roy. His health had begun to deteriorate again. He had taken a fever and was showing no sign of getting better.
 
Though suddenly a terrible storm began to sweep across the land, wreaking havoc on the realm, flooding it and destroying everything in its path. Ildon had received warning of this, as had everyone else and began to herd everyone onto the prepared ships of Oren. Maric, his brother, his uncle and his now severely ill father. And so once more they sailed off into the horizon, like in the days of Aegis, leaving their riches, their land and their destroyed home behind them. But the sea life did not do Roy good. His fever got critically worse and he soon passed away. His body was buried at sea. 
 
After months of sailing they had finally found the volcanic island of Elysium. Over the course of the next year the Orenians had settled, built houses and started to make a new life for themselves. The Adunians had starting stirring things up again. Maric soon received a message from a man named Hanrahan, gathering the Adunian clans for a meeting. But Maric was not interested. With the death of his father, he was now head of the House. He would no longer tolerate the Adunian’s treachery. He would have no part in it. More notices from his kin were sent, but he ignored them all. Weeks later, while sitting in his new house in the New Arethor, shouts were heard as his brother Eric ran up the stairs. He began shouting about an Adunian revolt and Hanrahan. The Adunians had rebelled! Though it wasn't all of them, Maric didn't care. This was the final straw. He would undo his father’s mistake and do what his ancestor Cray had done so long ago. 
 

And so Lord Maric was released from his vassalage to House Elendil. And instead, High Pontiff Lucien I had him swear an oath of fealty to the Holy Church of the True Creator. Now a church vassal, Maric had begun to cut all of Adunia out of his life. He had a new crest commissioned, new tabards, new flags and even a new name. His life in service to the church had begun. House Varodyr was born.

 

Father and Son, the Northern Peril

 

Through the freezing cold and blistering winds, Maric trudged continuously onwards, the howling gales biting his face over and over. He no longer felt it though. After so many years hauled up in the frozen hell that was the North, it no longer bothered him. He had lost track how long they were up there for, must’ve been six or seven years, but there was no way to tell. Up north the sun barely shone, all there is is white. The damned blinding white of the snow, the damned shadow of the dark clouds and the ever lurking presence of the damned beasts that prowled the mountains and canyons. It was all damned, the Creator couldn’t possibly be present in a place like this. But Maric knew different. For seven years the Creator had watched over him, his favourite son, his chosen, his right hand, his sword. The Creator had guided him and protected him, as well as his young son, now molded and formed by the harsh North.

 

Together they had ventured where others had not, survived what others did not and did what others could not. For seven years they had been moving ever so slowly, from cave to cave, ruin to ruin, camp to camp, avoiding the terrible beasts and surviving the unnatural cold. But after disease, hunger, a ship crash and four deaths they continued to soldier on, hoping and praying that they would find a way home. Maric knew that he had to, he knew there was no way the Creator would spare him from such hell needlessly. The Creator’s will was clear to Maric. Adorned in the leather tabard of what appeared to be slain Teutonic Order scout, thick bear and wolf pelt cloak that he was forced to skin himself (atop his own chainmail and clothes), he pushed onwards, protecting his fifteen year old son, Malric, with his makeshift cloak from the winds and cold. He continuously muttered into the wind, prayers of hope and prayers of salvation, begging the Creator to finally guide him to the edge of hell and back home. Because Maric was almost beaten. He was tired, he was wounded and he was scared, for his own and for his son’s life. But his suffering was not in vain.

 

Daring to expose his eyes to the wind again to look up ahead, he could glimpse something in the distance. His eyes burned from the icy wind but his instincts told him to weather through it. He couldn’t take any chances. What if it was another boarman war party? What if it was some kind of northern beast? What if it was something worse than that? He couldn’t take any chances. Maric began to slow, hugging his son closer to him beneath the cloak. One hand wrapped around his son, the other shielding his eyes from the wind and snow, he began to edge towards the mountain wall, pressing themselves up against the cold stone in an attempt to stay out of sight. They continued to edge forward, but far slower now, attempting to not alert whatever was out there to their presence.

 

They shuffled through the snow, pressed up against the grey mountain wall, moving closer and closer to a small ridge coming down from the top. Small, but big enough to hide behind. As they moved slower, Maric began to notice something. The wind had lessened, the snow was more shallow, it was warmer than before and the skies appeared to be brighter. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Was this the torture of some dark mage nearby? Or was this the real thing...had the Creator finally delivered him from the darkness? Reaching the small rock wall up ahead, Maric took off his cloak, draping it around his son and pushing him to the corner where the rock and the mountain met. Maric looked deep into Malric’s green eyes, pressing a finger against his own lips, signalling for him to be silent. Malric never knew anything other than to obey his father. He knew that up here Maric didn’t tell him to do things for no reason.

 

Suddenly realising how cold this place really was, he began to shake and shudder, keeping close to the rock and moving slowly towards open air. As he moved, his iron pauldrons began to creak and scrape against each other, making loud screeching sounds. With every sound, Maric winced and grimaced, terrified that whatever was out there would hear him. Taking in a deep breath of the frigid air, he poked his head out slowly, squinting to see through the wind and snow. The harder he looked, the more his eyes hurt him, but he knew he could make out two figures. And they looked human. Shaking his head in disbelief, Maric looked again, sure that couldn’t be real. But it was. Two Strelts of House Carrion were walking down through the narrow gorge, spears in hand and wrapped in cloth and fur.

 

Maric crouched close to the ground, his heart was now beating quickly. He hadn’t seen another living human being besides his son in two years, let alone anyone from the South. Who knows what had happened in the decade he had been gone? But he knew this was his only chance. Ushering his son over to him quickly, he began to slowly stand up, now hoping to be seen. Raising his hand in the air to show they were empty and pulling his son towards him, he called out to them, shaking now from both the cold and a bit of fear. He had not ever dealt with the Raevir. As soon as he made a sound though, the Strelts had jumped to attention, aiming their weapons at both father and son and moving as fast as they could towards them. The soldiers exchanged a look between each other before turning back to them, relaxing slightly. Maric knew that their suffering had finally ended. After telling the Strelts their names, they were taken back to one of their northern outposts, where they were fed and sheltered, something they had desperately missed.

 

 

Come the morning Maric and his son rode south on two northern destriers provided to them by the outpost’s commander. They passed through the now ruined Castle Greywyn, the once stoic fortress of Hanseti and rode further south. But the moment they stepped out of the old Teutonic Keep, they saw it; lush, rolling hills and deep green forests. Maric looked up to the light blue sky, feeling the sun wash over his face. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and simply smiled. The Creator had delivered them. They rode for days, as fast as they could towards the Krelm in Kralta, searching for the High Pontiff, Owyn II. Finally they arrived, only to find Owyn sick and bedridden, his time in this world was nearly finished. But Maric had to see him. Owyn had consented to see Maric, whom he had dubbed “the Herald of the North” and heard his tale. After ten years of pain and agony, Maric and his son had returned home.

 

Disappearance of Maric

 

It all happened so fast, that night. Even though he tried to act normal, like nothing was wrong, I knew something was going on. My father was not his true self. He seemed uneasy, like something serious had happened. I even asked him if everything was alright, and he merely brushed the question off, like it was nothing. He talked about me about the church, about duties, about obligations, like something were to happen. I was a fool to think it wouldn't. He told me about his secret stash, it's location, where he hid all of his treasures, three years ago, when we returned from the North and claimed the Silverblade Manor as our own.

 

After that, I simply went upstairs and fell asleep. The morning after, I waked to find him gone, with a bare minimum amount of gear and supplies. So I looked into his chest, and found a note, from him. I won't make tell of the details of the letter here, but it made clear that he had gone, for good this time. But that was not all of it. At the very end of the letter, a short, daring sentence I read, a sentence I read with utmost shock and awe.

 

"House Varodyr is in your hands now, may the Creator light your path."

 

And thus I, Malric the first of mine name, became known as Lord of House Varodyr.

 

--An  Excerpt From the Journal of Malric Varodyr.

 

Traits

 

Physical

 

The family members of House Varodyr are first and foremost Northerners. Their build is tall and strong (average between 5"9 and 6"2), but never exceeded more than 6”4. In Maric’s blood line, the line that he and his son share, the eyes are an ice blue and their hair a dark brown. On both sides of the family their skins are fairly pale but their hair colour and eye colour may vary.

 

Personalities

 

The personalities of the Varodyr’s vary, however their teachings and upbringings are pretty much the same. They have been taught loyalty, patriotism, religion and racial superiority almost from birth. They will have had it drummed into them as children, teens and adults until it almost defines their very being. These principles and ideas will have been pushed on to them, forcing them to believe that those philosophies are the only correct ones. Any other “blasphemous or heretical” thoughts will have been beaten out of them at a very young age. Of course there are exceptions, but the defining character traits are due to their upbringing.

 

 

Ranks

 

-Conscript-

 

Those who have not yet reached the rank of Ensign, conscripts will try their best to become an official part of the arm of the House.

 

-Ensign-

 

Full-fledged members of the force, the Ensigns form the bulk of its strength. To be pious and zealous is expected of a common Ensign, as is their patriotism and love for the Kingdom of Oren.

 

-Sergeant of House Varodyr -

 

Masters at Arms command squads of Ensigns, and are expected to show a great deal of ruthlessness when dealing with insubordination within the ranks.

 

-Despot-

 

Despots are the ones who lead the soldiers into battle, and act as the monitors of the Sergeants. This position is reserved for the most proven members of the Varodyr's retainers.

 

-Lord of House Varodyr-

 

Equipment:

 

Upon joining the force, every man regardless of rank receives daily rations, a bunk, a set of finest armor and an accompanying weapon of choice.

 

When one reaches the rank of Ensign, he gains unlimited rations and weekly supplies of armor and weapons, and payment, which is as follows:

 

Ensign- 100 minas per Elven week.

 

Master at Arms- 150 minas per Elven Week.

 

Despot- 200 minas per elven week.

 

Application:

 

MC Name

 

RP Name:

 

Race:

 

Age:

Faith:

 

Previous Combat Experience:

 

Affiliations with other groups:

 

Would you be willing to swear loyalty to House Varodyr and Lord Malric Varodyr:

 

--

 

Family Members Living

 

Lord Malric Varodyr[KoToTamoPeva]- Son of Maric, Lord of House Varodyr, Baron of Knightshill and Knight-Justicar of the Decterum.

 

Lord Siegfried Varodyr[Firespirit44]- Lord of Ard Kerrack, Holy Knight of Ruska.

 

Eoran Varodyr[vacant]- Cousin to Maric, Ex-Crusader. 

 

Valencia Varodyr[vacant]- Eoran's Wife. 

 

Jowan Varodyr[vacant]- Son of Eoran and Margery. 

 

Fiona Varodyr[TheBareSheet]-  Sister to Eoran. 

 

Family Tree

 

http://www.familyecho.com/?p=GJS8K&c=15a2u6itapf&f=616039523633756455

 

OOC: Playing a Varodyr

 

If you're interested in playing a Varodyr, simply fill out this short form.  You can currently apply only for Valencia or Jowan.

 

MC Name:

 

Timezone:

 

Do you have Skype and Teamspeak(required):

 

Which vacant character do you wish to play(if there isn't one available, we can figure it out over PMs):

 

Will this be your main character:

 

Anything else:

[XkynarethX 109]

MC Name:

XkynarethX

Timezone:

GMT+1

Do you have Skype and Teamspeak(required):

Both.

Which vacant character do you wish to play(if there isn't one available, we can figure it out over PMs):

Eoran Varadyr

Will this be your main character:

Yes.

Anything else:

No.

[KoTo 610]

MC Name:

XkynarethX

Timezone:

GMT+1

Do you have Skype and Teamspeak(required):

Both.

Which vacant character do you wish to play(if there isn't one available, we can figure it out over PMs):

Eoran Varadyr

Will this be your main character:

Yes.

Anything else:

No.

 

Accepted.

[Schneebo 1593]

MC Name:

Frottimer

Timezone:

Eastern Standard Time (USA)

Do you have Skype and Teamspeak(required):

Yes I do

Which vacant character do you wish to play(if there isn't one available, we can figure it out over PMs):

Jowan

Will this be your main character:

I play all my characters evenly quite honestly 

Anything else:

Nope that is it

[KoTo 610]

MC Name:

Frottimer

Timezone:

Eastern Standard Time (USA)

Do you have Skype and Teamspeak(required):

Yes I do

Which vacant character do you wish to play(if there isn't one available, we can figure it out over PMs):

Jowan

Will this be your main character:

I play all my characters evenly quite honestly 

Anything else:

Nope that is it

 

Accepted.

[TEEbrown 348]

MC Name:

grey_oracle (alt account)

Timezone:

Est

Do you have Skype and Teamspeak(required):

Yes, but I prefer not to use it while roleplaying.

Which vacant character do you wish to play(if there isn't one available, we can figure it out over PMs):

Jowan Varodyr

Will this be your main character:

Time will be split evenly between this and my other Char.

Anything else:

Not that I can think of.

[TheBareSheet 194]

OOC: Playing a Varodyr

If you're interested in playing a Varodyr, simply fill out this short form.

MC Name: PianoEby

Timezone: GMT +8

Do you have Skype and Teamspeak(required): Yes. See profile.

Which vacant character do you wish to play(if there isn't one available, we can figure it out over PMs): Fiona Varodyr

Will this be your main character: Secondary

Anything else: Dunno. I prefer ready made character, so maybe you can figure with firespirit44, a more detailed character. What I got now is "a sharp witted but shy daughter that has tendencies to blurt without thinking aspirations in life is one of knowledge". I don't even thats grammatically correct. :P Apparently, in shorter form "shy but smart lipped reprobate."

[Goldd 126]

MC Name: MrGoldd

 

Timezone: EST

 

Do you have Skype and Teamspeak(required):

I have skype.

Which vacant character do you wish to play(if there isn't one available, we can figure it out over PMs):

Valencia

 

Will this be your main character: It all depends, though for now I'll say Secondary.

 

Anything else:

If you need I can really play anything. Male, female, warrior, scholar. I just want to rejoin Oren role-play.

[cruzazul 2815]

MC Name:

cruzazul8

 

Timezone:

CST or GMT +1

 

Do you have Skype and Teamspeak(required):

Mhm

 

Which vacant character do you wish to play(if there isn't one available, we can figure it out over PMs):

Eoran

 

Will this be your main character:

Probably

 

Anything else:

Nah

[Haribo 385]

Signus Cross is the bastard son of Guy Varodir. Don't know if that would be included in the family tree or not.

[3andD 1722]

Why is guy varodyr not on the list. Prince of Balion and grand cross

[nppeck 601]

MC Name: nppeck

Timezone: EST

Do you have Skype and Teamspeak(required): Yes 

Which vacant character do you wish to play(if there isn't one available, we can figure it out over PMs): Eric Varondyr if anyone isn't playing him.

Will this be your main character: Yes 

Anything else: No

[ToenailTickler 290]

Why is guy varodyr not on the list. Prince of Balion and grand cross

I killed Guy Varodyr Remember?

[Archbishop 1784]

                                                               - Snip - 

[KoTo 610]

House Varodyr is now hiring able--bodied men to join it's ranks! Deus Magnus!

 

[Application in the OP]