Name: Keturah (Ket-who-ra) Asher (Ash-her)
Name Meaning: Keturah = Burned; Asher= Blessed
Clan: Drow
Gender: Female
Age: 100

Species: Dark Elf.

Rank: Common Warrior- Mounted.

Weapon:


Neshomalah was presented to Keturah when she came of age by her mother. It was not a relic, it wasn'teven a heritage thing. Merely, it was just a weapon for its own means. It had no significance to it. Its name, however, seems to hold some sort of significance to her. She is well skilled in using it, both on foot and mounted on her Lizard.



Malachi was given to Keturah by her lover the night before he left. She adores this weapon as much as she does him, though she isn't as good with the sword as she is with Neshomalah.



Her least used weapon, Achdus is was given to her by the Quarter Mistress as her first military issued weapon. She is a fair shot with it, though not as good as many of the Light Elfs.

Familiar: Riding Lizard- Shachath (shaw-Chawth) Meaning: Destroyer.
Appears to be very spikey from afar, large spikes covering the lizard from head to tail. He is coloured a deep black, to sort of dirty dark brown, splotched with a golden brown in some areas. He is about fifteen meters in length, having an exceptionally long tail that he uses to balence his body as it scurries through awkward areas of the cave systems and such places as that. He is rather slender and flexable, as well as being able to reach speeds that rival any other creature on this earth. Shachath was one of the few that have been taken from the wild as a youngling and raised by hand to combat against most creatures and other Elf's. As Keturah is the one that raised him like this, she is the only one that he allows to ride him. His shoulders standing just above the shortest of Drows, this creature is realatively small compared to his fellow Lizards, however, this is an advantage as it is easier for Keturah to ride him into cramped areas where others cannot go.

Speacial Abiities: Keturah speaciallises in re-con missions where she is either alone, or in a small group. She seems incapabe of standing too many people at once, and is more useful in gaining territory information and mission that take the upmost secrecy. However, when she is forced to fight within large groups, she is never seen without being mounted on her Lizard, or having Shachath by her side somewhere. She choses to fight with staff weapons or dagger when on foot, and Neshomalah when mounted.

Appearance:

Keturah has a regal kind of appearence that hides her lack of heritage amoungst Drow's. Her eyes, a red tinted amber, often mistaked for bredded crimson are slanted and rather armond in shape, cat-like against her soft unbemished deep dark-grey skin, like a streak of obsidian ash. She stands about 4'7", and with a quite slender, well toned body, even for a Drow. Her lack of height and strikingness that the other Drow have compared to her earn her a rather intimidated appearence when in company of other females. Her hair is slong, feathered so that the tips of the bottom layer of her hair. In the light, it whiteness can sometimes be mistaken for silver, however, not always and only to the unobservant.

She doesn't wear jewellery of any kind on her body. With the exception of but one thing, and that is a piece of amber that she keeps slung around her neck on a couple cords of leather so she wouldn't lose it. She usually wears tight fitting leather armour, even when she isn't fighting. It is light and easy to move in, faded black leather so that it suits her skin and her environment.

Personality:
Quiet, but she won't back down from a challenge.she values freedom and loyalty above all things and can be spontaneous at times, especially when she's around strangers. Has a bad habit of saying what comes to her mind and being painfully honest. Keturah refused to believe in romance and love and all that "mushy chicky stuff" ever since she was a child. Unable to commit to a relationship, she prefers not to socialise at all, instead content to travel with her dragon. She'll often come across as a cold person with the tendency to annoy people easily, but truely, she only wishes not to harm their feelings when she has to disapear during the night. She will have the tendancy to snap at people that are just plain annoying her and Keturah holds no patience for those who seek death.

History:
Not much can be said about her history. She was born to a low ranking officer, her father barely not even worth mentioning. She was raised to be a better fighter then that of her mother, training and fighting every day since she was old enough to hold a staff weapon, as her mother wanted her to experience a better life then what she had done. When she was about 60, still in her childhood, she met a young man, a Drow male, that was unnaturally tall, standing about 5'5". He was not like most Drow males, whom are submissive to the woman, and tend to be of lower class. He seemed to be compulsively violent, commanding, and strong willed, despite his almost slave like lifestyle. He had completely entced her, along with many other Drow females. Keturah, naturally attracted to something so defiant to his race, began to train along side him each day, merely copying his movements. He was a fist fighter, and she was no good at hand to hand combat. It wasn't long before he was stopping her through 'their training sessions', fixing her footing, and her stance, and instructing her on how to throw the punches and hits. For a long time, even as they became close, he didn't know her name. Instead, he had called her "Neshomalah". She had taken to calling him "Malachi". Neither knew each others names.

At 70, she was told that she would be signing up for the mounted squad of Drow military. When she found this out, Keturah refused blank to be given a Riding Lizard from the breeders. Instead, she went into the deepest depths of the cave systems where the wild Lizards roam. It took her an entire week to find a nest. It took her a day to sneak herself into the nest and pick out a tiny male Lizard, about the size of a greyhound, and take him as her own. When she returned to the base carrying Shachath in her hands, she was greeted only by Malachi, the only Drow that didn't see her as a raving idiot for wanting to raise her own mount. Other the years, he helped her feed and train with the Lizard till she was wise enough to take care of him by herself. Though, the time they spent with each other made them extremely close. Though Keturah didn't believe in such a thing as love, she contemplated that it could be the very reason why she had the possesive need to have Malachi for herself and no one else.

It was only five years ago that horror struck her. When Malahi came of age, he was instantly signed up for going into battle. Keturah was horrorified at the aspeact of loosing the only person she really cared for. Her mother, her father, they were nothing compared to how she felt and wanted her training partner. Yet, it wasn't to the night before they dispatched him that she came to him. It was in the privacy of the cave springs that they joined together, and finally told each other their names. He called himself Madai. Keturah couldn't help but laugh at the irony of his name, before covering his face with gentle kisses.

When Madai left, Keturah found herself feeling lonely and abandoned. She trained harder, faster then ever before, needing to become the best, if not for herself, but so she would be able to see Malachi more often then once every month. On her 98th birthday, she was presented with a long spear from her mother that was designed for both foot combat as well as mounted. She called it 'Neshomalah', because the word meant so much to her. Where as her sword was named 'Malachi'. She soon enough joined the mounted squad, then was instantly moved into a re-con unit. She works hard, striving to see a day when the Drows can finlly be a peace, and she can be with Madai in peace.

Other:
All names are in Hebrew.

Neshomalah = Sweetheart/sweetsoul
Malachi = My angel, my messenger.
Madai = Strife/War

Role-play Sample: Taken from MSR, character Le'vire.

One bothered to see the shadow melting into a figure, a figure of a man, the controller of the power here on this grave. One could smell it, the darkness, the sense of dormant evil resting in this new mans heart, waiting, just waiting to be set alight, to reach its catalyst, and grow. Oh the God of Shadow, was this who this man was? One scoffed at this impossible claim, before turning Ones gaze to the dragon, curious of the little creature, and what in Gaia's Heart made it think that it could stand before One and growl so threateningly. Silly, pathetic animal.

Le'vire cocked his head, two-toned eyes gazing at this new man with utter curiousity,taking in his stature and the humerous, but also strained way he spoke. Slowly, the murderer looked to the Shadow man's feet, and made gazed over every muscle in the strangers form, taking in the adnomen muscles visable under his shirt, the scars on his arms and face, and the silver cross and silver dragon pendant that hung from the necklace. Le'vire cocked his head the other way, looking much like a confused puppy as thought crossed his twisted mind.


Ones thoughts centered onto that cross at the strangers throat, eyes narrowing down to glare at it. One hated religeon, dispised the amount of dependance these sickenly mortal humans put into something that didnt exsist. Looking to the other pendant, One took note of the Tyger Eye, and the silver dragon that seemed to resemble the animal that growled at One, supposedly trying to threaten One into submission to it and its mate's 'greatness'. One's eyes finally met with the crystalline dark purple of the stranger and was amazed. Strange was thisis place. Full of magic, yet none usefull against One, full of intrigueing mortals, yet, so far, nothing that met Ones eye.


Stepping back onto Tar's grave, Le'vire placed the heel of his boot against the headstone, his head still cocked at an odd angle. Smiling a little manically, somthing in his mind told him to wait, just watch for a moment. This could be fun, this could be a new thing for him. Playing with his prey, like a kitten and its first mouse. The idea gave him a pleasurable shiver that ran over his spine, down to his toes. It was wonderful, amazing, a new plan.

"Tell me..." Le'vire purred, leaning back on the foot that rested against Tar's grave, a crazed smile over his pale lips as he stared widely at the stranger. "What would you do if I rufused to clense my soul of my sins..?"