Sol Invicta

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SOL INVICTA, THE FALLEN TITAN

“When I was born, he bathed me in fire and ushered a solemn phrase that weaved into the fibres of my immortal essence; but that essence has since then been tinged in ebon hellfire, and his fires have faded- I have been reborn and baptised by Order.”

Sol Invicta, a once illustrious Demi-Aengul who had accomplished many-a-feat including the near extinction of the dragonkin. The authority that brought ruin, death, and decay to the unorthodox species both present and future, for her word of power ushered throughout the annals of the Athna lineage. Although, this, and more prominently renowned as being the firstborn child of Xan, Aengul of Order and Guardianship alike she adopted the raw trait of ‘ORDER’ and ever since instated the doctrine of Order without mercy. Thereby extension, she was proclaimed both a grandiose leader albeit ripe with tyranny. Disobedience was never a factor in the Order she maintained and the death of their foes was an unrelenting statement.

However, when her reign was at its peak her brotherhood was ambushed via a fleet of draconic creatures, emblazing her mother’s homeland and in retaliation Sol Invicta summoned the Guardian’s Grimoire and with its seemingly boundless power transported the remnant forces of the first draft of the Order of the Golden Lance into the Fringe, the unrelenting force of Xan’s azure power incarnate tore her asunder, and their tyrannical Lady was presumed dead at the behest of her fair Father. Wrong, they were, and she found herself between the decrepit walls of her kiln. Nought but cinder and ash beneath a forest of flaring fire.

Although her immortal essence was bound to the kiln and with its existence, ensured hers, she could not perish via any mere feat. Eventually, she found herself reforming although many-a-year late. When Iblees and Aerial alike ravaged the lands of Aegis, heralding damnation, her catalyst provided ample protection in her dire time of need- albeit it wasn't up until the amassed power brought havoc and tore the earth asunder, producing the gaping abyss we know today was when she fell.

And as she fell, so did her immortal essence, her fires faded.

Except, death is a fallacy when faced with an Immortal.

And by extension, her fires reformed.

Her kiln bound betwixt the tenebrous panels of the ever consuming Abyss, now tinged in an ebon mass to signify her fallen status; she was left to her own devices, abandoned by her Father. And it was then that she discovered the Legion to which she cradled betwixt her everloving limbs, bringing life into their decrepit husks and brought them into a newfound era to which they would stand as her vanguard. An army to her heart.

With the Legion she had developed, she pursued the concept of Order within the tenebrous realm of the Abyss, conquering a large sect of land to accompany her growing empire, consisting of her spectral-esque forces and the unorthodox alike; her prowess and capability drew in a myriad of folk to which her very own Order began its evolution. From one sect, to two, the Fallen Titan adopted the myriad of lost souls roaming the depths of the Abyss, heralding their souls past this life, to the new, where they may rejoice in the loving embrace of their forefathers and Maker alike; those that remained, equipped an onyx cloak to conceal their undying features- her numbers increased substantially into a horrific, abhorrent force.

Though it wasn't until the Titan sought the Temple of Yore, situated betwixt the annals of the tenebrous Abyss- proclaiming the temple as hers, it would mean a grandiose goal to the completion of her goal. The subjugation of the Abyss to preserve her acute sense of Order- was, when the great, skeletal beast took notice of her advancing forces. He took flight, accompanying him his Dragonflight. Both sides clashed in a myriad of skirmishes and sieges alike, demolishing one another with the full intent of Mordring protecting the historical contents of the Abyss- The Temple of the Black Sun, against Sol Invicta’s intent of demolishing it and instating one anew, kindling for her flame.

However, come the climax of their inevitable battle Mordring had deceived a sect of Sol Invicta’s gathering- and she would later come to realise the negativity of her waywardness. The ebon depths, unorthodoxly ignited via ebon hellfire spewed from the likes of Mordring and Ykella alike in their mock battle of weening down one another’s foes produced a grandiose battlefield, broken and torn, the earth split asunder with a seemingly eternal spout of azure liquid cascading from the heavens above.

Mordring set foot upon the sacred land of what once was Aegis, footsteps ripe with a melancholic crunch as his joints clanked with his advancement upon the invading force- staff raised, the pseudo-Aengul was beckoned by the lamented Lich, whose hand was forced by the Fallen Titan, so she were duly dubbed. With solemn tranquility bequeathing the decrepit homeland, a bell tolled, the key signification to Sol Invicta’s arrival as she emerged from between the onyx passage to reveal a set of wings, wrapped in an azure hue, clad in a gilded suit with chain cast from an ebon mass to signify her fallen status- albeit were the grandiose great hammer clasped betwixt her digits with the reminiscent bell atop its spine, monstrous in size- the equivalent to a grand mace. With a split of her jaws, the elder lady spoke with a tone exhuming with raw authority albeit soothing to the ears of those she commandeered as her forces. A lullaby, to settle the dumbed minds of those she cradled dear.

They took to one knee as she settled atop the earth, great hammer raised toward the unorthodox Mordring who stood stalwart before the final frontier that would be his demise- his life, his home, and that what he swore to protect were at risk- although Mordring the Gallant wasn’t without his deceit. She did, indeed, speak aloud to those present:

“Ashen Ones, thou needn’t cower behind the unorthodox Mordring, a soul once noble- once illustrious, now decrepit and warped from its former image. Kindling for the Eternal Fire, I will take it all, and thine souls shalt be baptised by mine fire of yore; rise, my children, and let us claim fuel for the fire.”

Albeit weren’t up until she’d noticed her army wouldn’t raise, forced into a catatonic state at the behest of Mordring with an object clutched betwixt his ivory digits- poised high, they were damned to deaf and silence, unable to recognise the simple notion of adhering their commander. It provided ample time for a rogue faction situated within the ranks of Sol Invicta to take their opportunity, and that they did. For the Titan found her frame hunched backwards, emphasising a curve whilst the jawbone of a deceased dragon, slaughtered by her hands and no other had found itself lodged into the spine of Ykella, and out through her frame- effectively impaled through and through.

Unable to perish by the simple notion nor live right, an ethereal ritual had begun to take place whilst the artefact clutched by Mordring shattered- enabling Ykella’s forces to arise, but they remained poised, sundered by the illiterate cries of their Lady. Mordring’s forces took their chance, and promptly massacred through the denizen of her men and women alike whilst they remained stoic, worshipping their forlorn lady; ushering their prayers to their respective undead lord.

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Tortured souls brought to their inevitable demise, only to be reinstated back into their everlasting selves; rot, gore, and undeath. Mordring took his advance, producing a scathed blade which he wielded to cleave her wings in two- severing them from her frame, and the Lich promptly buried the blade betwixt her shoulder-blades in two, separate circles- prying outward, he began the notion of a meagre blood eagle, allowing the mixture of scarlet and fluorescent blood to flow free from her newfound wounds.

With newly drawn wings split wide, revealing the panels of her mangled spine, muscle, and vein alike- the abhorrent Lich splattered a rune of Gods bloods beneath her feet, binding the Demi-Aengul to the jawbone of the dragon until she perished. His last, final decree, after her forces had dwindled considerably was to retract- Ykella, crucified atop a hill overlooking the sanctuary would be punished with glowering onward toward that what she sought to conquest.

Both Mordring and Sol Invicta alike, bound to their respective positions- the custodian of the Abyss standing stalwart for fourteen days and thirteen nights whilst a murder of crows feasted upon her corpse, devouring the pallid flesh of Ykella- her screams of pure agony sundered the Abyss, bellowing across the entirety of its contents whilst strip-by-strip was cleaved free in minuscule sects, revealing an array of mangled flesh and bone beneath.

Eventually, she passed from her forced catatonic state, and back to her hearth where she would, she pressed into a state of reformation for how many ever years to come. Her once undying corpse now a riddled mess of rot and gore alike- lacking three limbs, hanging idle by a few strands of unrelenting flesh, atop the jawbone, it remained albeit lost to the primordial passage of time.

Although, now, time had passed. The remnant force of her legion, linked to the eternal fire had gathered and constructed two, ivory towers beside the first- the final frontier to their undying Lady’s heart, and there they took to one knee with their blade’s poised against the earth in their gesture of praise, ushering a silent worship. Decades would pass, then two centuries before she was permitted the right to reform; amidst fire and ash sprouted the limbs of Sol Invicta- a scorched woman, clad in ethereal steel, although. Something had changed.

The seeds of discord had been sown, a fire quenched elsewhere, and weaved into the fibres of Sol Invicta- albeit didn’t thwart her desire for subjugation and order, it empowered her need and so... She shifted her head upright to gaze toward the Black Sun, blade drawn from the fierce fires.

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"I shalt right what hath been wronged."

Redlines & Clarification

Sol Invicta scan be killed although she cannot be permanently killed unless her kiln was both ruptured and destroyed, thereby forcing her immortal essence to locate a new catalyst able to withhold its grandiose power; it is the equivalent to a pseudo-permanent kill- she cannot be re-animated via normalistic means and by extension, may take an hour, day, month, year, or years to reform.

Sol Invicta is the child of Xan although she adopted the raw trait of ‘Order’ which was weaved into her very fibres and is, by extension, the only concept Sol Invicta cares for in the mortal realm which she would aspire to obtain via any feat necessary.

With Sol Invicta's soul bound to the hearth of her now splintered kiln is viable for either corruption or cleansing at the behest of whomever; she may be moulded into an antagonistic force or a protagonistic force-- although she won’t have any excessive means against the server as a whole, this inducts flavour into the concept of being able to ‘corrupt’ or ‘cleanse’ an already Fallen Demi-Aengul instead of the usual kill.

By no means is Sol Invicta a means to bolster the Paladins ranks, she may be seen as their antagonistic or protagonistic force which is to be dictated through RP, although her doctrine implies conflict betwixt the two forces.

Sol Invicta possesses both martial prowess and magical; albeit solely confined to Paladinism it is an exemplified feat of ‘event magic’ which enables her to perform a variety of deeds- of which can be explained through her half-immortalism.

Ykella’s magical prowess is expansive and by extension, far more capable to manipulate the magic in its most rawest form; both old and new.

Events and interaction will span across multiple communities.