Valerie Weaver, Royal Knight

Valerie was a small noble within the kingdom of Adrila, her father Victor Weaver having possession of a patch of land, but like with most who had the potential to usurp the King, the conditions weren't favorable and they weren't favorable namely for one reason - the proximity of his lands to the Kingdom of Khaerum. And while Valerie had a relatively carefree life up to the age of 10, the mercenaries incharge of protecting her father's lands having done a fair enough job up to that point, paid with decent fortune, food and shelter on behalf of the peasants who worked for him, that winter proved to be the last one she'd spend within the comforts of a noblewoman's bed.

When the vampires struck, it was sudden. Many of the soldiers spent time sheltered within their now permanent homes, and the guard forces had diminished a bit as a result of the tougher conditions. So the attack took the small noble estate by storm. The young lady hid out in her father's secret study behind a hidden door, her caretaker having taken her there in the wake of the attack whilst Viktor, being a competent wizard, took to the defense of his home. But a fate worse than death awaited her family and their subjects as the vampires not only overpowered them, but left the head of the family and his most zealous defenders alive, to be used for a feast that would last years.

She never heard of her father since, but all she knew upon leaving the study was that her home had become a twisted shadow of its former self, ransacked for riches and used for a bloody banquet of death. 

The tale spread and news soon came about the King's reaction to the ''tragedy'' that befell the Weaver bloodline. A tragedy celebrated with a feast in the Kingdom, no less. Atleast, that's what she told herself, for the only person she now despised more than the vampires themselves was the tyrant that called himself king but gave not a damn about his citizens, viewing them as either slaves or threats. Finding herself needing to sell off what little of her father's fortune was left, she made her living within a village under the name Victoria, leaving only one of her father's old blades in her person.

Years later, with ceaseless travels in and out of the village, spent swordfighting trees and wolves with a rusted blade, the woman had finally taken to not only strengthen her form but infact develop her own fighting style ( more below ), far from any swordfighting manuals utilizing the blades of an advancing civilization. She finally took the sword to a young blacksmith in her village and had it reforged to shine, further commissioning a second shortsword of a similar design. Difficult as her request was, she was felt herself ready to embark on a long journey at that point. 

That was the last time he'd seen the woman known as Victoria up until he eventually recognized the blade he himself had crafted join his own in the hours of his rising rebellion all the way to its very end. And the one that now stands beside his throne, ready to strike at anybody to dare threaten his rule.