Ramza Mahdavi

Full Name: Ramza Mahdavi



Nickname(s): Fine with being called just Ram, Rammie is reserved for her nani only



Age: 28 years



Birthday: Winter



Race: Gerudo x Sheikah



Occupation: Guard, adventurer / sword for hire



Pronouns: She, her



Status: Single & afraid of commitment



School of Magic: Din (novice)



Beast Form: Mountain lion









Like most Gerudo women, she has a large and bulky stature, standing at an imposing 7'4" and a half (she insists that the half inch is very important). Her arms and legs are fittingly toned and rippling with trained muscle, along with her stomach that is commonly on display thanks to the 'minimalistic' nature of Gerudo clothing. Unlike the traditional red hair, hers is pure white, contrasting against her dark skin-tone. It parts off to the side, over her forehead and down her back, ending just beneath her butt, but she typically keeps it restrained in a ponytail or the occasional braid. The red color of her eyes are another oddity among her people and, coupled with her hair, is more reminiscent of a Sheikah. Anyone who points it out will get a verbal, or literal, kick in the ass.



Being fashionable isn’t really her main interest when it comes to clothes. She dresses more for comfort and movability rather than looks, obviously in lesser layers to avoid overheating from the desert climate the Gerudo live in, usually going with choli tops and baggy sirwal pants as are the usual in town. Since looking nice isn’t a priority, she’s not big on jewelry or wearing veils, unless the heat gets particularly hard to bear. The only accessories she really wears are golden bracers, mostly for protection rather than looks, and a chain belt she fastens around her waist.









Ramza comes off as very intense, tough, and self-assertive. She speaks her mind, no matter who it may offend or hurt, and tends to have a stubborn way about her. Once she sets her mind on something, its a difficult feat to get her to reconsider, unless you're someone she really admires or cares about. She's one of those people who does more doing than thinking, often finding (or creating) trouble and only stopping to ponder once the dust has settled. Or she's faced with the consequences of her actions, whichever comes first. When there's nothing going on, you can be certain that she's on the look-out for something to do, the more dangerous the better. She is, at least, extremely dedicated, always reluctant to back down from whatever challenge that presents itself



There are lots of heroes in Hyrule, but she doesn't consider herself one of them. The 'greater good' isn't that important to her — as long as her and her people are thriving, then she doesn't give much thought to what's happening to others, nor is she the kind of person to stick her neck out for those in need. She won't stand by and let people get slaughtered, of course, but if there's a beggar on the street, or a child nearby is crying, let's just say she won't be the first to stop and offer assistance. She wanted to become a warrior not to help people, but to fight bad guys and be respected. What's so bad about that?



As much as she tries to come off as self-assured and confident, she really... isn't. The fear of failure is a big motivator for her, failure which she feels is looming around every corner. She couldn't help the ones she loved in the past, there was always a chance she couldn't now. But she does her best to make sure that won't happen by throwing herself into training and practicing, always keeping an eye out for possible danger. She can only mess things up so many times before she's considered a lost cause by everyone, including herself.









An accidental byproduct of a short-lived love between a Sheikah warrior and a Gerudo clothesmaker, Ramza was brought up to believe she was a full-blooded Gerudo, a fact that she was proud of. Her unusual hair and eye color were an insecurity of hers as a child, which was a source of some personal doubt, but her mother always reassured her that she was just special, made to stand out rather than blend in. That's probably where her insufferable childhood ego got its start.



She was somewhat of a bully, to put it simply. She was the one that decided what kind of game would be played, then found ways to silence anyone that would try and protest — sometimes through not-so-friendly roughhousing. When she wasn't tormenting the other kids in their large settlement, she was at her mother's or nani's side, acting like the perfect little angel and being praised as such. She wasn't spoiled, exactly, but the love her family had for her was evident. Even in the absence of a father figure, there was never any feeling that something was missing from her home life.



When she was approaching her teen years, Ramza found a role model in a fellow Gerudo woman, the captain of the guard. She was strong, skilled, good-hearted, but most of all, admired. Everyone looked up to her and showed her respect. Ramza wanted to be just like her. So, naturally, she ran up and insisted that she trained her to be a good warrior, to which her role model agreed. Once her thirteenth birthday rolled around, the long process began.



She took to wielding weapons easily, easier than she did to the subjects her mother tried to teach her at home. Books had never been her strong point, nor did she inherit the cloth-involved skills of her mother, but she excelled when it came to athletics and other physically demanding tasks. When her body’s stamina gave out, her determination carried her the rest of the way. She was a fast-learner, too — when she was genuinely interested in what she was being taught, anyway.



Her mentor was pleased with her progress, at least in terms of her skill. When it came to honing the girl’s personality, though, she was left unimpressed. Thus, after training sessions, the pair would sit and meditate at a nearby oasis, focusing on achieving a quiet and calm state of mind. To everyone’s surprise, the few minutes of silent contemplation a day did actually help her calm down. If only a little bit, at least.



Years passed and she was shaping up to be a skilled young warrior. Then tragedy struck one day when her and the guard captain ventured out into the desert, intending to help out a smaller village in the wake of a leever attack, but their journey was cut short by a group of lizalfos. The lizard creatures jumped at them from where they hid, camouflaged against the rolling sand dunes.



Ramza charged at them without thinking, scimitar clenched in hand, and the electric lizalfos retaliated by discharging strong arcs of electricity. She was stunned momentarily, the weapon dropping from her hand. The older woman had to swoop in and help, but even with her skill, they were outnumbered and ill-equipped. She recognized this and told her pupil to retreat back to their village — but Ramza stubbornly didn’t listen.



While trying to continue fighting, the captain shoved her out of the way of an attack she didn’t see coming, the incoming spear impaling her instead. Watching the warrior she looked up to most fall to the ground, the life quickly draining out of her, was what finally made Ramza give in and run back to the settlement.



By the time she came back with some guards, it was too late.



She blamed herself for the incident, but it did inspire her to push herself further in training, maybe a bit too far. She went beyond the point of exhaustion, injuring herself on more occasion than one. Still, even when other people tried to stop her, she would find another way, searching for some way to wash the blood from her hands. Everyone said it wasn’t her fault, but it was. She didn’t fight hard enough, didn’t try hard enough. She wasn’t strong enough to protect anyone she cared about.



For the next three years Ramza dedicated herself to being the best fighter possible, honing her skills with any kind of weapon she could get her hands on. She did practice magic some, with the help of a Din researcher that lived in their village, but found she much preferred traditional weapons. Nothing else compared to the power she felt while wielding a spear or bow.



After she joined the village guard and some time had passed, the young woman found herself bored. A person could only spend so much time in a small, unchanging community before they got tired of the same old thing. Like anyone who was in their prime and wanting some change of scenery, or a challenge as in her case, she decided to pack up and search for a new place with new opportunities, even though the idea of leaving her hometown was daunting.



But, before she left, her mother had some news to share with her. News that she had kept a secret ever since she was born. It was the kind that led to Ramza not speaking to her again for years once she departed.



Her journey had no solid destination, simply wandering from one village within the desert to the next. She encountered many enemies, some she fought off, others she had no choice but to run from. She’d gotten smarter in that regard, at least. Eventually, she came across a surprisingly large settlement, which was bustling with trade and tourists, and that business was what drew her in. Unlike the place she had come from, this place was truly alive, not boringly stagnant.



It would be her home for the next few years. She joined the guard, as she’d done back home, and continued to dedicate her time to training. When things got dull in town, she’d venture out into the desert in search of creatures to fight or treasure to find. The best moment, in her opinion, was the time a molduga wandered too close to town and the whole squad of guards had to deal with it. The battle was long and difficult, but no lives were lost, plus she really enjoyed the adrenaline rush.



Like before, though, Ramza became bored of the same thing day in and day out. The regular influx of merchants and travelers lost its appeal. That is until a mysterious armor-clad figure came into town one day.



She sought him out at the tavern, curious and looking for something interesting as always, where he told her all about the adventures he had been on all over Hyrule. He spoke of fearsome monsters she’d never heard of, described places that she could only dream of being, but what caught her attention the most was the loot and treasures he found. The large, powerful sword he unsheathed from behind his back alone had her eyes bugging out of her head, hands clenched into fists to stop herself from reaching out just to see what it would feel like to hold such a weapon.



Needless to say, she was drawn in by the promise of a life of adventure.



Her quaint life in the settlement was traded for a life on the move, the desert she grew up in left behind as she set out on a journey of exploration and discovery. Everything new she came across was met with awe. She met countless new faces, some she got along with and others not so much, but they were all temporary fixtures until she moved on to other things, other places. There was no settling down now that she was on the move. The routine ways of her past were long-gone, which she was glad for.



Years had passed since she was last home and a longing to go back would start to rear its ugly head, even though she was enjoying her time going out on quests and fighting monsters. She wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with her mother, either, after being told she wasn’t actually full Gerudo. A quick visit wouldn’t hurt, though, right?



Coincidentally, her return home was shortly before the Starlight Festival was to be held, a prime opportunity for her and her mother to repair things, according to sweet old nani. Never one to deny her grandmother, Ramza begrudgingly agreed. She didn’t know that that night would end in such tragedies, including a very personal one.



When the monsters overran the city, she was among those who stood their ground and fought, though her efforts did little to save the lives that were lost. Among those were her own mother, who did her best to fight like a Gerudo warrior but was overtaken and killed there in the street. Yet another person Ramza cared about that she failed to protect.



Nothing had changed. Despite all her efforts, all the training and actual fighting she endured, she was still just as useless as she was at age fifteen.



She stayed home for a while after that, helping nani with the clothes shop in whatever ways she could, but the incident loomed over her head every day. She couldn’t get over the fact that her mother died thinking she’d hated her. The troubles plaguing the Zora didn’t concern her, nor did the battle in Eldin; she didn’t care about much of anything. The past year has been a lot of nothing, besides ignoring the all-out war being waged beyond the small village she spent her childhood in.



Recently, though, there’s been rumors going around about a new settlement in the works. Boring news, at first — until she learned that the Chief’s daughter was involved. That certainly changed things, didn’t it? Maybe it was a bit egotistical, but she came to believe that this was her chance at redemption, a chance to prove that she was more than her failure to protect the people she loved.









○ She’s an awful cook. If you don’t wanna deal with a huge fire, or be poisoned, don’t trust her to make food.

○ Since her mother made clothes, she knows some of the basics, which comes in handy when her own clothing is ripped or damaged in some fashion. She’ll ask for rupees from anyone else who needs it, though, no offense.

○ She hates the cold, mostly because she isn’t used to it. Thankfully she has Din magic up her sleeve to help out a little.

○ If you want her to do something, use some reverse psychology: tell her she can’t do it. She’ll do whatever it is with 110% of her power just to prove to you that she can.

○ Her favorite form of showing affection is physical touch. She gives the best bear hugs, though they can be a little hard on the ribs.

○ Voiceclaim is Vi from League of Legends.

○ “No amount of waiting will make you brave / No amount of fear will keep you safe.”

○ “I am the best at being a royal fuck-up!”