Trying something new here – sharing excerpts of my stories and my adventures.

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Eliana knew, as the blows from the dagger started hitting her and tearing through her armor like paper, that she was going to die. She had no time to even think of fighting back panic – all that filled her mind was “not now, oh please not now, please please please…” She once again felt the insistent, insidious tug of the dagger’s dark magic, this time not simply nudging but gripping and yanking at the very seat of her soul, and she couldn’t help it: she screamed.

And was suddenly filled with a feeling of light.

Of peace.

Of well-being.

Of… honestly, of confusion. Because she wasn’t dead.

She felt Altariel pulling back from his flurry of attack – she’d closed her eyes – and her heart still beat. Her soul was still safe. She felt possibly the worst and weakest she’d felt in her life… but she was alive.

That cannot be possible. I know my body. I know my battles. I know that I could not have survived that attack, and that was not a healing spell I felt – not that, I believe, any of Gianni’s spells could have saved me in that moment. It felt… well, it felt like Her.

The feeling returned, briefly, like a ghost of a warm breeze, with just a hint of admiration, encouraging Eliana to open her eyes once more.

Altariel glowered.

Her companions yelled – the dire bear was actually roaring.

Eliana flexed her fingers, took stock of her body. No doubt about it – she was weak enough to fall any second. She knew that, before she’d trained herself to ignore her own pain, she would have fainted already. She knew that moving now would hurt.

She also knew that she had one last major power left to her name. And she knew that whoever She was, she would approve. And since Eliana knew that She was the reason that she’d survived at all, this seemed like the best return gesture.

So she held tight her sword, and let loose with a strike of retribution.

As she felt the blade sink home, slipping between joints of Altariel’s armor, she watched his eyes go wide with shock, and she honestly felt like laughing. I may not be able to fell you on my own, she thought, but I am not alone. He winced as yet another crossbow bolt zipped into his shoulder, and again as a bullet struck his ribs, and yet again as she yanked her blade free.

A sense of warning – no words, but a feeling. An almost regretful feeling.

Eliana shook her head. The now-familiar sensation of Gianni’s healing crept through her limbs, but Eliana knew it wouldn’t likely matter. Altariel could kill her faster than Gianni could heal her. And whatever She had done, Eliana had a very strong feeling that it was all that She could give.. at least for now. But it was enough, because blood had started dripping from Altariel’s armor, and she could see him struggling to focus as he began the intricate gestures and chants of a likely-deadly spell. Since he was distracted, she tried another swipe at him, but she swung wide, and she knew she wouldn’t likely have time for another.

So she closed her eyes once more, and took a deep breath. Take care of them. Let them know that I’ll come back if I can.

Let my children know – let Artemis know – that I love them more than words can possibly say.

She didn’t hear an answer, but she didn’t expect one. And she didn’t need one – because here, in the arms of her goddess, fulfilling her purpose, she had faith. This was what needed to be. This was what she was created to be. And all would be well.

I’m ready.

With one final shout, Altariel’s destructive power washed over her, a wave of pain shredding her into thousands of tiny pieces-

-and she was gone.

My name is Eliana, and I am a paladin.

All else is secondary.

I’ve always been a fighter. Eschewing the careful, frilly, more typically ladylike existence of my two elder sisters, I instead begged my father to let me hold his sword. I spent hours hanging around the practice field, getting into mock battles with sticks, and challenging the cleaning staff to single combat. Perhaps my parents were more patient than most would be- they had no sons, so my father indulged my whims, and when he passed my mother honored his wishes for me more than the gossip of others.

I’ve also always loved stories. When I held my mock battles, they were often to the tales I’d begged from my nurse, or the stories told around the fire at winter-time. My father held me enthralled with his recounting of his own lifetime. I may have wished to be a soldier, or a knight, but not solely for the sake of the fighting itself. I may have gotten a not-entirely-charitable amount of glee from knocking an opponent head over heels, but my true inspiration came from the hope that I could fight for something worthwhile someday- that I could be like the people in my books of history and fairy tales.

I didn’t understand until I was ten, eleven, twelve years old how much suffering was an inherent part of those stories I so loved. I began to understand when unrest stirred on our borders. I got my first taste when we received the news that the wars crossing dynasts abroad were coming for us. I felt sorrow, fear, and something like despair when the elven invasion, the Signar Dynast’s eventual and inevitable takeover of our country, stopped being gentle and instead crashed across our people like a wave. I was sixteen years old when my father died in a last stand, when our capital finally fell. When the leading general of the invading forces made my mother, the queen of Inderinon, kneel before him as he mocked her, I truly understood suffering. My heart cried out for my mother, my country, my home. And it was then that I, Princess Eliana Valenti of deposed Inderinon, made my vow and received my calling.

I would fight with honor and courage. I would fight for all that was right and true. I would fight so that one day, a free human kingdom would stand again in the lands of Vanovasi. So I swore, and so I did, although even then, I had no idea how long and strange the tale of that fight would be.

How could I? After all, my story was only just begun.

from the journals of Queen Eliana Emalliani of Archaedia; presumed age of document approximately 983 AC

Hello and Welcome!

This blog will include the thoughts and feelings of my character, Eliana. I’ll be reblogging and commenting on content from the #paladin and #gaming tags, as well as sharing art and writing of my own creation. As mentioned in the description, Eliana is my (tinygandalfarmy) creation; her setting is cowritten by myself and @jadeshadow88, and there is a mostly inactive blog with setting details at @vanovasidnd. Please feel free to interact through the askbox or reblogs – most posts will be replied to in-character unless it’s impossible to answer them thoroughly.