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Another entry in
Though Valli's often been accused of looking like a seventeen-year old girl with the fashion sense of a mental patient, she doesn't mind all that much. She dresses how she likes, her fashion sense has become.. refined over the many, many years she's had to perfect it, and she doesn't find offense in the fact that others might not have as developed a taste for fashion as she does!
Valli's not actually a seventeen-year old girl at all, though. In fact, -very- technically, she's not a girl at all!
Valli, which is short for Valyarash, is a goddess. The physical incarnation of a goddess, to be sure. Often, the glittering, red-irised eyes or fox mask give her away, hallmarks as they are of her worship. Many cultures worship Valyarash as the goddess of the summertime, she who gives abundant light and rain, in equal and tempestuous measure.
From the fall of the Empire of Agataea in war and violence, to the slow, slow decline of the forests of Pal'vaen in the twilight years of the Elven race, Valyarash's experience stretches back to time beyond the recollection of most races, save perhaps the nigh-immortal ancients of dragonkind.
Valli is a mere shadow of her former self. Her powers and most of her divinity lost in the wake of some terrible calamity, far in the past, which nearly wiped her from the memory of the world itself, in the process, leaving only fragmented records of her powers and worships, far in the dark past. She retains few of her powers from her prior life, and almost none of her memories. Immortality is one of the few truly divine abilities she retains, which makes her impossible to truly kill. Her body can be slain, but her soul, or essence is untouchable, and it's return to physical form is detailed further below.
A few minor powers relating to her former domains of power remain hers, though they are nearly useless in a combat situation. And, she retains one artifact, a weapon forged by a loyal follower from the ancient times, blessed by her full measure of strength. An unadorned gladius, a wide, short sword with a steel handle and no cross guard, it is often sheathed against the small of her back, the leather of it's container worn smooth and shiny from constant use.
She searches for knowledge of her former power, and the scattered remnants of her former power, shattered and sundered during the cataclysm that nearly took the world itself. Shards of divinity, lurking in living beings, items of power or even places where she was once worshiped...
She has retained one other talent from her former times, a throwback to the earliest days of her worship, when she was related with something more than simply the summer. She was related to the gorging, the overabundant feeding that the summer brought, that animals and primitive civilizations carried on with to prepare themselves for the hard times of the winter to come.
The process of her soul's return to physical form is a highly demanding one. And it requires her to eat. A lot. Her body, thanks to the injured divine spark that burns in her, also has a far higher metabolism than a typical mortal would. Feeding on people, grown and living provides her with enough food to keep her body going. Though she can subsist on more normal means for a time, the spark of the soul within living beings is required to keep her own grievously wounded divine spark working.
If slain in any way, she will return to life, if not returned to it by another force, after a total of 24 hours. Her body, and her possessions fade away after a total of 12 hours, regardless of whether her possessions are removed from her or not. She will walk back to where she died, traveling from the shattered remains of her divine home, where her final shattered piece of divine life rests.
