From a young age, Gwendolyn Goldweiss was told stories of angels by her parents and the other inhabitants of the peasant village in which she was born and raised. The villagers revered angels as being of great power, but also great compassion; beings who would smite the wicked, but show mercy to the innocent and the righteous. As Gwendolyn grew, she remained entranced by the stories of angels, and decided then that she would join the Holy Order of the Silver Flame, a group of knights and paladins whose deeds of goodness and bravery were renowned across the land, for the stories told that they were mortals of such great and incorruptible courage and virtue that angels would descend from the heavens to assist the holy warriors in their quests.
When Gwendolyn reached adolescence, she departed from her village to travel to the Palace of the Sun, the most sacred home of the Order of the Silver Flame, with the hope that they would allow her to join their ranks. The journey was long and arduous, but her determination was as strong as the steel sword that she carried across her back, and she did not ever relent in her quest.
Eventually, Gwendolyn reached the palace, and she was amazed at both its size and its majesty; with its towering spires and mighty walls made of white stone that had been so expertly carved and thoroughly polished that they reflected the sun in the sky, gleaming like a great beacon of light than shone across the land. Gwendolyn felt a great sense of elation and accomplishment, for she had reached the place of which she had heard stories and where she had imagined visiting.
Gwendolyn entered the palace, and announced both her presence and her purpose. A member of the order, with his armor shining bright, approached her, and identified himself as Sir Tristan, and he informed Gwendolyn that the Order accepted only the most devoted and pure-hearted of individuals. Only those who were resolute in their actions and free of moral corruption could become members, and those who were accepted would be required to constantly be vigilant and righteous, to never display cowardice when threatened by evil or to engage in behavior that would taint one’s virtue. Gwendolyn knew that maintaining such a strict and virtuous lifestyle would not be an easy task, but she was determined to become a member of the Order, so she accepted that rigorous requirement.
Therefore, Gwendolyn was accepted as a squire to Sir Tristan, and trained with other new recruits, learning numerous new skills, including the art of melee fighting, properly righteous behavior, and, eventually, the sacred spells and prayers that would grant the members of the Order the awesome holy power that they used to perform and accomplish their great deeds. Eventually, when the recruits and squires had completed their training, and were ready to be accepted as full members of the Order, the senior members informed them that they would be knighted by an angel, a holy being whose very presence was inspirational to the knights of the Order. Gwendolyn was amazed by this news; not only had she reached the citadel of the order that had been the object of her aspirations since childhood, she would actually meet one of the beings whom she so dearly admired.
When the day of the knighting ceremony arrived, Gwendolyn stood with the other recruits and squires in the castle’s courtyard, excited with anticipation. She was anxiously awaiting the appearance of the angel and her acceptance as a member of the order. For several tense moments, nothing occurred, the air still with anticipation, but, suddenly, a beam of blinding white light descended from the sky to touch the ground in the center of the courtyard. The beam was dazzling, so much so that Gwendolyn could not gaze directly into it without experiencing discomfort, but it also caused her to experience a sensation of warmth and comfort, as well. The beam then vanished, revealing a tall and majestic figure standing in the courtyard.
Clad in garment of shining gold and white, the figure had the form of a human woman, but her appearance was unlike that of any person whom Gwendolyn had ever before seen. She was head and shoulders taller than any person whom Gwendolyn had ever seen, and her beauty was almost otherworldly. From her long golden hair, to her flawless skin, to the massive wings, like those of a giant bird, that grew from her back, she was an image of such strength and grace that Gwendolyn actually felt her breath quicken and the beat of her heart accelerate. She had never seen an angel in actuality before, but she had read and heard stories of them, and she knew instantly that this being who stood before them was, without any doubt, an angel.
The angel spoke then, her voice as sweet as the sound of songbirds on a spring morning but also resonant like a temple’s bell, and introduced herself as Gabriella. She congratulated the new recruits of the Order, commending their strength and dedication to acting as warriors of righteousness and also explaining the great expectations that they would face when they were accepted as full members of the Order. Gabriella gave the recruits a chance to leave the Order, if they did not believe that they could commit themselves fully to it, but all of the recruits verbally asserted their dedication, and Gwendolyn was particularly vehement in doing so, expressing her desire to join the Order with all the passion that she could muster.
Gabriella nodded assent, and then drew forth the sword that she wore across her back. With almost unearthly grace and great flair, she touched each recruit with the blade, addressing them by name and declaring that she accepted them as full and true members of the Order of the Silver Flame, and that she expected nothing less than their complete and genuine dedication and devotion to the Order for the remainder of their lives. When Gabriella knighted Gwendolyn, Gwendolyn could feel her heart beating furiously, and her breathing becoming short and labored. She could practically feel the holy power radiating from Gabriella’s being, and while it, combined with Gabriella’s massive stature, did intimidate her, she felt reassured and invigorated by being in such close proximity to a being of such grace and power. Gwendolyn knew that she would remember this day for as long as she lived, as it was quite possibly the most significant day of her entire life. She swore, to both Gabriella and to herself, that she would be a devoted warrior of the holy order who promoted righteousness and opposed evil, and she promised herself that she would fight at Gabriella’s side for as long as the breath of life filled her being.
Therefore, Gwendolyn’s campaign as a holy warrior began, and she embarked upon various campaigns and quests in the name of justice and righteousness. She gained experience as a warrior, but also learned the importance of showing mercy and when to not fight for her cause, knowing that kindness and compassion were traits that exemplified virtue and distinguished them from their enemies. She became stronger in both body and will, and eventually distinguished herself as an exemplar of virtue and courage, a knight of Silver Flame, a holy warrior of righteousness and honor.
Now a fully-fledged warrior and seasoned veteran, Gwendolyn found herself a leader in her order, training others in the ways of virtue and righteousness, as she herself was once trained. During her time in the order, she fought many enemies, whom she regarded as vile and corrupt, and while she sought to show compassion and mercy to even those who sought to harm her, she eventually learned that some people were beyond redemption, and would continue to remain a threat unless killed. In particular, there was a cult dedicated to Molikroth, a demonic being of pure hatred and malice, whose followers delighted in killing and caused suffering without sympathy or remorse. To Gwendolyn, these people were deserving of her contempt, and she vanquished them without mercy, for she knew that they had none of their own.
Eventually, after several years of crusading and fighting against the forces of evil, Gwendolyn sought to return to her home village, to visit the family whom she had left and not seen in so long. Eager to see her parents and siblings again, she rode into town, proud and confident, her experience as a knight allowing her to tall and strong.
As she reached her house, her excitement increased, but, then, suddenly, the unexpected happened. Without warning, demonic cultists appeared and began attacking her village. Gwendolyn was horrorstruck; the cultists must have followed her home, waiting to strike when she was least expecting them to do so, seeking vengeance for the crusades of her order against them.
Wishing that she had brought her comrades in arms with her, Gwendolyn brandished her sword, to fight the invaders who had dared to attack her hometown and defends its citizens. She struck out, cutting down the cultists whose presence was defiling her sacred home. However, the cultists were simply too numerous; for each one she struck down, another took his place to continue the havoc. As she swung her sword, becoming frantic to drive away the demonic warriors, they began to surround her, closing in upon her like the jaws of a terrible beast. A blade brought down her horse from beneath her, and another pierced her side, drawing blood and sending horrible agony through her body.
Gwendolyn fell to the ground, her breath harsh and ragged and the taste of blood in her mouth. Her vision was hazy, but she saw that, with her defeat, the remaining villagers were offering little resistance, there being few trained warriors among them. The cultists gleefully struck down men, women, and children alike, and flung torches into to building to set them ablaze. As if to be cruel and sadistic, a cultist stabbed her a second time, making her couth up blood, and then walked away, laughing wickedly.
Gwendolyn sent out a desperate plea, a silent mental prayer to the angels of her order, hoping that at least one of them would arrive at her village and destroy the cultists before they killed everyone, but none appeared. Despairing, Gwendolyn could feel the live draining away from her, as her vision grew dark and her body grew cold. She would die here, in her home village, with the knowledge that she had failed to defend it and all of its inhabitants.
Suddenly, instead of complete blackness, Gwendolyn experienced a vision of blinding white and comforting warmth, and energy that she had never before experience. She had a vision of amazing places, places that she had never before seen, worlds beyond her own whose existence she could scarcely comprehend. As quickly and as suddenly as the vision had arrived, it departed, and Gwendolyn found herself again in her home village, awake and alert.
Gwendolyn stood, finding that her body did not show any signs of the wounds that she had received and she did not feel any pain at all; instead, she was filled with a sense of vigor and power that was unlike anything she had ever before experienced, an exhilarating and wonderful sensation that made her feel simultaneously elated and serene. Her senses had become enhanced, as well; the colors and details of the scenery were sharper than ever, she could hear even a tiny insect moving among the grass, and she could practically feel the slightest breeze of wind, although her newly-enhanced senses also magnified the horrid details of her ravaged hometown, as well, especially the scent of blood and fire, the maniacal laughter of the cultists, and the cries of pain from the villagers.
Gwendolyn happened to glance into a mirror among the ruins of a house, took a moment to gaze upon her reflection, and was amazed at what she beheld: her long, raven-black hair had become a shining silvery-white; her amber eyes had become brilliant sky blue; her skin had always been smooth and fair, but it now practically gleamed like polished ivory or alabaster; her stature seemed taller and more assertive; and, most amazingly of all, she had grown a pair of massive white-feathered wings, like those of a great eagle, from her back. The wings felt natural, as if she had always had them, like a second pair of arms.
Gwendolyn realized then what had occurred; she had heard stories of planeswalkers, beings of amazing power who could travel to realms beyond their own, to other planes of existence, and perform feats of which others could only dream, but she had never met such a being and had never imagined that she herself was one of them. In her moment of crisis, as she lay near death, her planeswalker spark had ignited, not only saving her life, but also causing her to transcend her mortal nature and become one of the angels whom she so greatly revered and admired.
After her moment of wondrous revelation had passed, Gwendolyn remembered that her village was still under attack by the cultists of Molikroth, and she knew that she could tolerate their presence no longer. Gwendolyn retrieved her fallen sword, and allowed the wondrous sense of power that she felt flow into its blade, which glowed a blazing white, like a torch, a shaft of pure light. The cultists noticed her, and some, upon seeing her angelic form and visage of righteous wrath, turned and fled, but other held their ground, ready to attack her, again, although Gwendolyn noticed that they were now very nervous.
Several cultists attacked her simultaneously, and Gwendolyn allowed them to strike her, but her skin turned away the blows of their weapons harmlessly, the same strikes that previously wounded her now feeling like little more than mosquito bites. Before the cultists could register than their attacks were now ineffective against her, Gwendolyn struck back, her sword now slicing through the cultists with little resistance, as if they were nothing more than stalks of wheat being harvested by a reaper.
The cultists screamed in agony as they died, but Gwendolyn took no joy in their deaths, knowing that to do so would make her no better than they were. Several more cultists attack her, this time by throwing burning torches at her, but she merely willed them away, and their flames were extinguished harmlessly.
Finally realizing that they could not defeat this righteous warrior, the remaining cultists fled, retreating like the cowards whom Gwendolyn knew them to be. After they had departed, Gwendolyn sheathed her sword, who glow winked out when she released it, and quickly began to search for survivors. However, she found none; the cultists had been very effective and cruel in their work, leaving no one alive after the attack. Gwendolyn found her parents among the piles of bodies and rubble, and, after wondering for a moment what to do next, held her hand over their bodies and channeled her power, willing her parents to be fully healed.
Her hands glowed with bright light, and her entire body felt warm, but her parents’ lifeless forms did not stir. Gwendolyn felt a crushing sense of despair as she realized that restoring life to the dead was beyond even her new angelic power. However, she decided then that she could not allow herself to give in to her despair and would continue the mission that she had begun when she had joined her order. She would crusade against the forces of evil and wickedness, to prevent other villages from suffering the same fate as hers, and her newfound power would be a great asset in that quest, allowing her to even work for the sake of goodness and righteousness across the entire multiverse. Gwendolyn then departed from the ruins of her village, saddened by its loss, but also strengthened by her renewed conviction and sense of purpose in her life, knowing that she had a mission to perform, and would not ever rest in it for as long as she drew breath. She was a holy warrior, and she would perform her holy mission for as long as evil existed.
enpc says... #2
So play her, tick her up once and then -6 for 24 flying damage. Seems broken. You'd be much better off just having it a fixed -3 or something for a single 4/4 flyer. Seems much more balanced. Then you could drop her CMC to 5.
August 18, 2018 10:54 a.m.