Yea it's another one. Sorry XD

This one is based off an old RP but with the child of the two.

This roleplay is also based in an older time period and is also in Britain because we love that place. I bring to you the faeries deep in the woods of rolling Britain hills. And Rowan, a girl that was born in the wrong time where women are pushed to the sides. Be prepared for awkward moments and an adorable ol' faerie.

Name; Rowan Vita Stonewall

Age; 25 (Appeara to be around 20)

Gender; Female

Looks; Rowan has light brown skin, with cool undertones. There are small scars scattered along her body, mostly on her arms and torso, although there are larger marks as well. These are healed battle wounds from her time as a warrior. Her hair is around shoulder length, and slightly choppy, as Rowan cuts it herself. It is a dark, chocolate brown color, and curly. Originally, Rowan's hair was longer, as expected of a woman at the time, but was chipped short when she masqueraded as a boy, and has only recently began to grow back out.

Rowan's eyes are also dark brown, with little golden flecks in them that seem to capture the light. Rowan has a crooked and stern looking nose, with a strong jaw as well. Her brows are heavy, and there is a crease between them from stress and long nights of thinking. Rowan's lips are thin, and overall, she has plain features. It worked in her favor, as it was enough to fool people about her actual gender.

Rowan has a boxy figure, with strong, muscular arms from weilding a sword, along with other types of weapons. She is fit and in very good shape - something she continued even after leaving the Manor that she was trained as a Knight at. Rowan is 5'6 and lean, despite her muscular and cutting frame, and carries herself with pride. There is a lift to her chin and shoulders that speak of a spirit that is unable to be conquered or broken.

Personality; Rowan can't turn away when there is someone in trouble. She has always been this way, but the courage and kindness in her heart only increased after becoming a knight, where their purpose was to Protect and Help at any option.

Rowan cannot cook to save her life - or rather, she can cook just enough to make it. She is a proficient hunter, and is able to kill and cook her own meals over an open fire. Beyond that, though, and Rowan is clueless. As well, the sewing and stitching abilities Rowan has is limited to being able to mend her own clothes when they tear, or sewing up injuries, as Rowan was well trained in first aid practices.

Becoming a knight requires a lot of training, so Rowan has the ability to do many tasks at a basic level. One thing that is not basic, however, was Rowan's talent as a blacksmith. It was required of all pages to learn how to make one's own sword and mend armor before even starting on battle training.

Rowan is very active - she enjoys running, archery, sword fighting (both on and off of horseback), as well as simply riding horses in general. Rowan has a connection with many animals, the strongest being horses, to where she can understand what they are saying. With animals other than horses, Rowan is able to soothe them, and read their body language better than most people. It helps if she has been able to develops a friendship with the creature.

Rowan was originally a Princess - daughter of Gwendolyn, and adopted daughter of Aldwin - a powerful and well loved King and Queen of Britain. She never had an affinity or liking for the cushioned and prim palace life, and left under the cover of darkness one night at the young age of fourteen. Rowan has heard about a Manor many miles from her once-home that was well known for their training of some of the finest knights and warriors of Britain. Her stocky frame and boyish tendencies allowed her to pass as a male, and a letter called her Roman - the son of a small Lord who had come for training. The supposed Lord was in on the plan - Rowan sold her beloved and amazing warhorse Rein to him for some coins and permission to use his name. He didn't approve of her action, but hardly cared at the thought of having a horse from the King's army in his stables.

Although Rowan has started late, and had been throughly unprepared, after seven years of training, 'Roman' was fully and officially a Knight at the age of twenty-one. During the later half of her training, a war broke out, and continued on even after she had become a Knight. Rowan proved herself as a capable soldier, and was the warrior who rallied the troops at the Battle of Tych, (page 18 - made a small note and adjusted ages) and ended the war by killing the High Commander. Rowan did not want that attention placed on her, though, and asked for her role to remain a secret.

To this day, it still is.

The fact that Rowan has taken lives haunts her to this day. There is no pride hung on the fact that she was the reason that people are dead, even if they had malicious intent, and she was doing her job as a Knight. It is sickening, but Rowan cannot find it within herself to regret becoming a Knight, and finding a way to always help the people.

Afterwards, Rowan set off on her own at the age of twenty-two, fully proclaimed a knight, and having just ended the war.

There were many adventures had in the three years between setting off on her own, and settling down in the village at twenty-five to trade furs while she made some money, and took some time to breathe.

Age: 243 (Looks around 27)

Gender: Male

Race: Faerie

Appearance: A tall, willowy figure that stands at around 5'9 and looks as if a could strong wind could send him flying. Alvaro's skin is tan from being outside so much and it's dashed with freckles which are also from spending so much time outside. His shortish hair is butterscotch in color and is always rather messy with leaves and twigs tossed about in there but it isn't really that bad. Everything about him is sharp, from his cheekbones to his jawline, though this gives him a more elfish appearance than a violent one. Alvy has pointed ears that are pressed against his head a bit. From his temple to the side of his face is a strange green mark, almost like a tattoo that is made of swirls and lines. Large emerald green eyes are upturned and his perfectly simple eyebrows are almost always raised in a teasing expression. Despite being rather soft, Alvy is a little muscled though is actually less muscled than Rowan. Being so old, Alvaro can choose to expose his wings or not. When they are exposed, they are rather transparent, with intricate designs in each wing that are almost identical. Despite how weak they look, they can easily carry him for a whole day if needed though can easily be broken by any sort of weapon. He can only be killed by silver ;)

-Being a rather smart little dude, Alvaro is the 2nd in command of the resident faerie people. He takes care of most of the ins and outs of his people though he is allowed to take breaks. For faeries are wandering spirits and they understand that. Being one of the oldest faeries means he is given more loose rein than any younger faerie. This means he is out and about more than others, he also interacts with the humans more though his magic doesn't hold up too long and he has to disappear before his mark returns. After being hunted down to almost extinction, his kind hide in the deepest parts of the woods, making what he does more dangerous but more exciting too. Reading and flying are his favorite pastimes and he hopes to live long enough to see everything the world has to offer.

Extra: He can live up to 900 maybe a little over but he can still die before then.

Most faeries lived high in the treetops, away from any harm. This included Alvaro, who lived in one of the highest tree houses in the area. Which was one of the perks of being 2nd in command. It wasn't big though, a simple kitchen like area in the corner with a table and bookshelves that reached the ceiling and even then they were spilling out. There was no door though faeries respected others privacy above all else, there wasn't a need for a door. The windows were circles with a cross of wood inside of them, making four separate holes. There was a corner where there was a room divider where he could change privately where no one could see him.

Alvaro lit the fireplace with a kettle and began to make tea as he changed. A loose green shirt with holes in the back for his wings, faeries made clothes especially for these things. Alvy also wore light brown trousers with darker brown boots. Since he was comfortable at home, he allowed his wings to expand. They reached above his head and almost down to his knees. He hummed as his tea finished and he poured it into cups and set them down onto the table.

Now, Rowan worked as a horse trainer, and when she hunted, sold the pelts for money. Her mother had been outlandish in some aspects, with her horse riding and the way she would speak up, but her daughter was more manly than even her.

Money was low once more, so Rowan rode out on her pinto gelding named Frost, for the snowflake-like shapes on his nose and ears, with her crossbow and arrows. She was hunting. The woman found some freedom in hunting, for she was able to get away from the crowds and be one with nature, even if she did kill it.

Rowan hardly ever dressed as a woman any more, for the fear of the men she worked so hard to catch up with shun her, so it was a relief not have to lower her voice or bind her chest as she rode.

Soon after he finished pulling on the necklace, a messenger flew up to his doorframe. A polite smile on the young ones face. "Hello Alvaro, I do hope I am not bothering you; but Kori wanted to make sure that you had the rest of the week off of duty. She knows how much you like to work and how you'll ignore her if I don't remind you." Faeries tended to get straight to the point no matter what, and the little messenger was no different. "No you're not bothering me at all Orion. And yes I know, I remember. I'm still going out though. Tell Kori I said thank you." The young boy nodded and disappeared. Faeries aged differently than humans so the boy looked around 15 but could've been anywhere between 50 to 126 years old.

Alvy smiles lightly and soon flew out of his home. The sun's gentle morning rays sending shivers down Alvaro's spine. He waved down to the faeries who were at the trading center which was located on the ground and was heavily guarded by both magic and Guardian Faeries. Exiting town, Alvaro could feel the magic pull him as he left it's protection. The whole place disappearing quickly due to the magic. He touched the ground with light feet and quickly allowed his wings to collapse. The green mark on his face no longer flowing as it normally did inside the borders.

Although they did get along well and loved each other, Frost and Rowan did not have the same bond that Rein and Rowan had, where they had instantly clicked. It had taken lots of work to get Frost to do much of anything.

With a smile Alvaro walked gracefully through the forest. Half the time he was being followed by creatures of the woods. Foxes and squirrels were drawn to him due to both his age and magic. Alvy was known as the fixer of the forest. He fixed anyone's problems with the ease of a 248 year old faerie with magic. According to some, Alvaro had seen it all and knew exactly how to deal with any situation. He didn't, but he didn't deny the flattering comments anyways. Just a quick smile and that was about it.

Taking in a deep breath of the woodland air, Alvaro was just about to relax when an old rabbit hopped out in front of him. It didn't startled him but what the rabbit said did. "Oh dear, lead me to this bird." The rabbit began to hop off and Alvy followed. This led him to a sadly chirping bird. An arrow stuck through its wing. "Oh poor thing. How cruel for someone to leave you here like this." The bird began to waddle away, scared of Alvaro for he thought it was another human. "Do not worry young one," Alvy pointed at his mark on his face, "I will not harm you." The bird relaxed and Alvaro gently picked him up. "I'll bring you home and help heal you. I promise." And Alvaro began to walk home, for the trees were to thick to fly in.

Rowan can be a Hunter

Rowan dismounted, holding tight to the reins. She wouldn't put it past Frost to bolt on her. He was scratched up, bleeding from a few places where he hadn't moved fast enough. Rowan quietly sang as she looked him over, berating herself mentally for not bringing any bandages, or anything of the sort.