Fae Cromwell

Sex: Female
Age: 1000+ (?)
Height: 5’5”
Weight: ???
Hair: Sunflower Blonde
Eyes: Cerulean
Race: Half-Demon
Alignment: Heel

Entrance Music:




Strategy: Fae stays quick on her feet and fast on the attack. She doesn't often stay close to her target for too long and fights them over a long period of skirmishes, whittling at their life through intermittent frenzies and quick slashes. Wild and reckless, she favors quantity over quality on the attack. She often uses her enhanced agility to her advantage, leaping to high points and running along narrow surfaces to get around her opponents or just out of their reach in order to taunt them. Her opponents should worry most about keeping her entertained. The more bored she gets, the less she cares for her adversary’s well being for the sake of deriving whatever enjoyment she can from things.

Type: Nimble Skirmisher
Style: N/A

Favorite Moves:
- High Kicks
- Sentons
- Jabs
- Eyerakes
- Foot Stomps
- Biting
- Licking

Finishing Moves:
Pierce Shot - Fae fires off a high-impact shot that uses the entire weight of her upper body into her foe’s sternum. Effective at taking down larger foes, the shockwave is also beneficial in dispersing gelatinous material and hammering invertebrate enemies.

In Action:

Vvulf Hunt - Fea rushes her opponent and land a punch to their gut to wind them. Using her enhanced speed and strength, she follows up with a series of punches to take them off the ground before finishing with a high kick to their jaw that send the opponent flying. For tougher adversaries, she’s known to leap high and finish them with a slam.

In Action:

Physical Stats
Endurance: ★★★★☆

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Strength: ★★★☆☆  

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Speed: ★★★★☆

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Defense: ★☆☆☆☆

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Technique: ★★★☆☆  

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Wrestling Stats
Strikes: ★★★★☆

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Submissions: ★★☆☆☆

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Powerhouse: ★☆☆☆☆

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Aerial: ★★★☆☆

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Counters: ★☆☆☆☆

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Powers/Quirks
Lycanthropy: She can transform parts of her body at will to wolf-like proportions. She’ll summon ferocious claws to slash her foes, powerful hind legs to leap high above the ground, or even a pair of vicious jaws to rip apart larger prey.
Night Vision: Can see extremely well in the dark and through foliage, perhaps even better than in daylight.
Enhanced Smell: Possesses nearly 40 times the amount of olfactory receptors than the average human owing to her Lycan mutations. She can pick up scents from over a mile away and familiarize them to a specific object/person.
Eternal Youth:(?) While not immortal, if the current Librarium records are to be trusted, Fae never ages.
Psychic Block: Any attempts to control her directly will fail. She has demons of her own…
Wolven Cloak: The daemon’s skull transforms into a fully sentient cloak, which Fae wears to recover from battle, healing wounds and restoring stamina gradually over a period of time. It can also see in directions separate from its owner, combining two fields of vision through a psychic link.


Personality: Blood, money, sex, and food. If there are any other reasons to wade through this boring, stuck-up world, Fae couldn’t care less for them.  She’s a vain creature of impulse and habit, unwilling to - or simply incapable of - putting the slightest bit of serious thought into her actions. Assassinating great and revered kings, terrorizing a humble farmer’s livestock, scaring little kids into dropping their baskets of goodies, none of it makes much difference. If it sounds fun to Fae at the time, she'll almost certainly do it. Her lawless nature makes her as untrustworthy as she is dangerous. Loyalty is and always will be a fickle and fleeting thing for her. The best ways to get on her warm side are by offering any of the four aforementioned luxuries that she can’t live without.

Apperance: "Wild" is a rather fitting description. Her slim, toned body is of admirable build and perfectly accentuated by her tanned, tight skin. Despite centuries of wandering, her body hasn't aged a day since her imprisonment, retaining the appearance of her early twenties. Her sky blue eyes seem to descend forever. Prefers loose attire and lost all semblance of modesty with constantly shifting trends. No, she isn't fixing her hair.

Ring Attire:

Cloaked:

Abilities:

Peace Sign:

Functional...and Fashionable!:

Sunday Best:

High Kick:

Meeeaaatttttt...:

Fae Cromwell was sentenced to death on the seventh of Starfall, a cold evening on some unmarked year of the First Era.

Nearly a millennium ago.

That was what history told, written by aging fingers with minds too dull and bloodlines too dry to recall the precise events, nor the woman who perpetrated them.

The infamous Terror of Hyehall, the Assassin of Ten Thousand Princes, had finally been apprehended after the end of a long and noble hunt led by the King’s personal guard. After a just and fair trial, the villainous murderer was finally sentenced to a long-deserved public execution. The crowd gathered on a stormy day in the king’s capital, and at the break of dawn, the greatsword fell upon the fiend’s neck and the heaven’s rejoiced by unleashing their great bounty through the rays of the sun to sweep away the blood of the tainted. The jovial cheers that rang through the capital carried through the night and peace reigned over the kingdom once again.

Reality spins a different tale.

Fae was born into nothing and to no one. When she took her first life, it wasn’t for any particular reason. Just some highborn with pockets too big. Someone she thought needed to be taken down a peg and stealing was too much effort. She liked it, so she kept doing it. Before she knew it, she was somehow getting paid for it. A neighbor that saw too much, a convict that didn’t deserve to see it to trial, a granny holding out on her inheritance. To Fae, it made little difference. If it kept the landlord away, she was happy to take her trade from one side of the continent to the other for the right price. It satisfied her...for a while.

Soon the money wasn’t enough. She loved the thrill. She wanted more of it, seeking higher and grander targets to the point it made her careless. Eventually, she was caught, though one wouldn’t be able to sense her distress from the self-satisfied smile smeared across her face as she was thrown into a dark cell and the key tossed away.

The truth existed but in rumor, abound on the whispers of petty beggars and lesser folk suggesting that Fae was never truly executed. That on that cloudy day in the market square, a look-alike took her place. That the King wanted the world to think her dead. That she was still alive and isolated deep in the darkest depths of his estate. There, the King employed his Arch Necromancer to work all manner of rite and ritual on her body as he saw fit. To enact retribution on her body for the sake of the son she had taken away from him.

Fae couldn’t recall stabbing that particular back. She didn’t dwell on it. She knew it didn’t matter.

Nearly two years would pass. Two years of burning and cutting and poisoning and stretching and bending and breaking over and over again. She lost all feeling in her arms and legs. Her head felt weightless, the inside festered and throbbed unendingly in the dark. Soon, the experiments took her mind as well as her body, and the midnight halls echoed with her tortured laughter.

By the end of the following spring, Fae’s heart had grown weak and the next experiment was certain to be her last. A prime opportunity thought the Necromancer. He prepared a special test with his latest acquisition from a then-recent excavation. A malformed skull, the surface etched in language long-forgotten and with a curious viscid black pitch perpetually coating the underlying surface. Simply touching the relic drove anyone mad before their body gave to the insanity. The Necromancer sought to observe the results on Fae and placed it on her like a mask. Her body stiffened all at once.

And he waited...and waited…

...and...

A horrifying scream echoed throughout the castle, echoing into the night and sending a flock of ravens scattering in every direction. From her confines, Fae tore free with unparalleled strength, a vicious and crazed smile caught by the torchlight. Her body shifted and molted uncontrollably in patches of fur and shifting musculature, shapeshifting with unwieldy ferocity. In a blink, she became like a shadow with a fur hide, slashing her torturer in half before taking to the darkened corridors, screams and silence following in her wake. Her claws cleaved the stone walls and tattered the high cloths of the great hall before she leaped from the window to the dark of the storm outside, disappearing into the cascades below.

I think I like you, kid.

The words echoed in Fae's head when she awoke in the middle of a forest she didn’t recognize. A hazy memory didn’t help matters. The only thing to provide her with even the smallest hint of direction was a small, almost unnoticeable influence in the back of her head.

She watched the ebb and flow of time shift around her as she wandered. Kingdoms fell, cities rose in their place, and she drifted between them as the one constant. Reality and its relative nature became lost on her, weakening as her bond with the demon inside of her grew. His voice became clearer, her vision less hazy and more certain. Entwined in their mutual bloodlust, their two souls slowly meshed within the vessel that was Fae’s body. By the fifth century, she could finally see him through the mask. Their souls had fused and bound their fates together.

But Fae didn’t believe in stuff like that. For all the sweetly whispered words in her ears and the dark world she could see through the mask, she failed to care for much beyond the grass beneath her feet. All she knew was that she felt stronger. Faster. Hotter.

And she was really, really goddamn bored.

Fun Facts:
- Fae harbors some odd quirks owing to her mutations. She scratches herself behind her ear with her foot and has a habit of smelling people she just met. Just to name a couple.
- Barns, trees, and shacks are her favorite places to rest for the night. Cozy beds of inns and taverns make her oddly uncomfortable and she'd sooner sleep on the floor.
- An unabashed meat lover even when she was still human, Fae has an insatiable appetite for cooked beef and salted pork. She goes against even her basic instincts when she catches even a whiff of the stuff
- Fae is a surprisingly well-versed bookworm in the areas of arcane magic, alchemy, and poisons. Her heightened senses have given her a keen sense of deduction to effectively use this knowledge. While lacking in the professional capacity to make such things herself, she can identify the symptoms of nearly any virulent affliction and correctly identify an antidote. She’s similarly familiar with magic and can make a reasonable guess to the spell or incantation attempted by the left behind residue.



Record: 0 - 0 - 0

Wins: 0
Losses: 0
Draws: 0

Career Milestones:
- Newbie.

Friends: None
Allies: None
Rivals: None
Enemies: None
Crushes: None