Riolas Wintersun

Home

• Text

  "My son, you are the last standing Heir of the Wintersun House. I have trained you in every way that I can, as has your mother done what she can. You knew this day would come, and we knew it as well; we can only hope that we did our best. You have mastered the sword, the art of Fire, and the ways of the Arcane. You have completed every lesson that we set before you with flying colors. You have proven yourself worthy... And now, you are to be known as the Patriarch of Wintersun."
  
  The servants all gazed upon Riolas, all of which were smiling proudly. They had watched him from birth, his first steps, his undying will to complete things the best he could... they had witnessed it all, and stood by his family through it all. He arose from the kneeling position, and kept his eyes upon his father, who was holding a blade, sheathed away in the scabbard.
  
  "Despite my frail health, I want to be the one to do this. Riolas Wintersun, you are hereby named Patriarch, of the Wintersun House! And to commend your new position, this blade was made for only your use."
  
  He withdrew the blade, revealing its wicked design. It looked to be made of living magma, a powerful burning heat emanating from it.
  
  "This blade is known as Slagspike, Blade of Living Magma. It will serve you to the end of your days, and will not serve anyone but you. Should anyone else ever attempt to command it, it will disobey, and strike out at the thief. Now... We know what must be done. Come, Riolas; It is time."
  
  Riolas nodded, and he knew exactly what his father meant. He followed him out of the chamber, and through the various rooms of the large estate, until they reached the outside. His father stood some distance away, his sickly health making it very difficult to remain standing. He hacked violently, though he still smiled towards his son.
  
  "I am proud of you. I always have been; Never forget that."
  
  "I will never forget, Father. ...Thank you, for everything."
  
  Riolas began charging a powerful flame spell. He watched his father close his eyes while the incantation was performed, remembering all of the good times. Riolas felt a few tears run out of his eyes, but this is what must be done. After what felt like several minutes of charging his spell, he unleashed it upon his father, multiple phoenix mouths forming and breathing ruinous fire on the man.
  
  "From the flame, we are reborn... Not as what we once were, but as something greater..." Riolas said to himself, as his father was reduced to nothing but ash. The servants reacted accordingly, tucking the ashes away in a burial urn. When this was finished, Riolas looked out to the servants with a smile.
  
  "My father was a great man. You all served both him and my mother for many years, and for that, I thank you. But I must ask that you do the same for me. With their passing, we cannot let our House fade away. Instead, we will live on, and continue with what my father wanted; the VERY BEST! FOR HOUSE WINTERSUN!"
  
  "FOR HOUSE WINTERSUN!" The servants boomed in unison. He smiled at this, and made his way back into the estate. There was much to be done.

• Playstyles Chart

  Style	Will RP	Might RP	Will Never RP
  Style Private Adventurous Open World	Will RP Fantasy Combat Violence Horror	Might RP Sexual Themes Character Injury Traumatic Experiences	Will Never RP Character Perma-death Mass Fratricide Heavy Gore