[center][color=red][big][b]Lorelei Haelioni, Crimson Guardian[/b][/big][/color]
[color=red][b]Servant of the Lady of the Light[/b][/color]
[color=red][i]"Well, it's certainly a less savage title than Crimson Axe."[/i][/color][/center]
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[color=red][big][b]The Defender[/b][/big][/color]
As her moniker would suggest, Lady Haelioni is, as a matter of fact, a noble chevalier. The headsman's axe she carries and wields with remarkable skill for a weapon meant for little other than ceremony possesses something of a reputation; that is, for bringing death swiftly and without suffering. As a protector rather than a warrior, it is her view that merely dispatching those who would threaten another for their own gain is enough. Making one's foes suffer unnecessarily is the mark of a mere sadist given a suit of plate mail rather than any being fit to bear the title of "knight."

Oftentimes, her knight errant-esque tendency to wander bearing little more than her armor, her axe, and the bare minimums for wilderness survival leave her without so much as a coin to her name. While never deigning behave as a common prostitute, possessing enough honor to prefer a night under the stars or an empty stomach to trading her womanhood for a bed or a meal, those she bears a certain fondness for will find her more than amicable to a night spent in one another's arms-- primarily hers, though, on account of her unusual stature. It may be an exaggeration to call her "great," but more men than may perhaps be fair have found themselves looking up to address her.

As a paragon of the endless firm benevolence that so encapsulates the virtues of her church, Lady Haelioni has received the highest honor; a boon of immortality from the goddess herself, to spread the gospel of acceptance and redemption for as long as she may have before a foe takes her life. It is for this very reason that she has never allowed her martial skills to atrophy, continually training herself and probably spending enough time sharpening her axe as to make any spectators feel uncomfortable. Her legend may ebb as the years pass, but she continues to walk dusty roads, seeking the injust in need of retribution and the downtrodden despairing at the cruelty of the world.

Truth be told, she prefers the downtrodden. Less cleaning up to do.

[color=red][big][b]The Lady of the Light, Protector and Benefactor[/b][/big][/color]
"Knight," while not an inaccurate descriptor for the Crimson Guardian, does not tell the whole tale. Paladin is more appropriate a moniker for Lady Haelioni; more specifically, a paladin of the Church of the Lady of the Light, she who rules over the bonds of affection and all that is righteous in this world. Bread to the hungry, shelter for the shivering, and love to all who wish for it. Such ideals of generosity must also come with selflessness-- in a word, only those who would allow themselves to freeze if it meant surrendering their sanctuary from a blizzard for the sake of another were allowed to take up arms in the name of the White Lady.

[color=red][collapse=The Wife][color=gray]The Hounds of the Abyss. Once, there was no band of brigands capable of such terror. Wild rumors surrounded their pillaging and brutality, suggesting that their claims of such a chasm as their true birthplace were no mere boasting. Whatever the origin of their infamous savagery (and supposed cannibalism) may have been, it made little difference to a newlywed. In his final moments, the husband had found the pain of the inhuman cutthroats to be too much to bear, crying out that he would betray his wife if only his life would be spared. None but the most cowardly would strike such a bargain, and none but the most desperate would hold a grain of hope that it would be honored.

Of course it wasn't. His bloody, mangled corpse was dropped at her threshold, a dagger planted in his back with its blade pierced through a note that implored her to surrender to the Hounds, insisting that she would not meet the same fate if only she would cooperate. Knowing that her whereabouts could only be discovered through some betrayal on the part of her late husband, she opted not to take the bait. What coin was left over after their honeymoon was soon exchanged for a blade and mail-- a purchase that, to a resident priest, looked to be little more than a thinly-disguised suicide attempt. Knowing he couldn't allow her to meet death or worse by way of the Hounds (as she most assuredly would in her current state), he begrudgingly agreed to instruct her in the ways of martial combat.[/color][/collapse][/color]
[color=red][collapse=Understanding][color=gray]And so it came to pass that the grieving wife honed herself with naught but selfishness in her mind. The swift, merciless removal of the Hounds would most certainly be a blow struck for peace, but under the guidance of the priest who had given in to her course of vengeance, she came to realize that there only one approach could prevail against Her heart and actions must be utterly unclouded. In a word, they must all be those of justice. If the Hounds were to be excised, it must not be revenge guiding her hand, but the conviction that their endless atrocities were deserving of death; nothing more, and absolutely nothing less.[/color][/collapse][/color]
[color=red][collapse=OOC][color=gray]Paladin of lawful hot snu-snu.

Most certainly not Titania from Fire Emblem, despite the fact that the images are blatantly of her. Look, [b][i]you[/i][/b] try finding art of busty women in full plate that isn't some Queen's Blade-tier cheesecake![/color][/collapse][/color]