16-03-2013, 10:56 AM
Name: June Aloius Fiammata
Age: 24 Winters. (Birthday on 20th)
Height: 5'4" (64 Inches, 163 Centimeters)
Weight: About 130 Pounds
Description:
Wide light-Blue/Grey Eyes, wavy auburn hair, a light curvy frame held with bold confidence, and a well kept overall appearance that may identify with arrogance or trouble.
Backstory:
Life is a journey, thatâs what papa used to tell me.. Little did he know, I took it quite literally. Whenever things go south.. So do I. I just, kinda give up, and move on.. Reinvent myself.. So here I am, girl with at least four trades.. Yet no honest work. Iâm not sure where I am.. Iâve got an arrow head in my shoulder.. And the entire crew is dead, save for me, and one young passenger. Time to reinvent myself again, I guess..
But first, lets take a look at how we got here.. Iâve got all day to think about this, anyways.
I was born, to a simple miner, and a simple stoneworker, in a small settlement full of nothing but miners and stone workers. It was called âSolace Valleyâ, the story goes that there was no Xitian presence this far north before the Veld war, so escaped slaves and refugees could find their way here, and get honest happy work in the mines. They named us Solace, and our ancient name wasnât easy enough to translate into the trade language, so it stuck. Iâm not sure why the xitians never came here, they tell me itâs the cold, the harsh winters and frequent snows kill them, but lucins absolutely love it.. Anyways, Iâm getting off topic.. Dammit, canât think straight with this damn arrow in me..
I was raised a miner, of course. There arenât really many other jobs in solace valley, and in a humble settlement like that, you just do what your parents teach you. It wasnât bad, it felt good working down there, talking with my friends all day while we had our competitions to see who could make a mightier swing of the pick, or who could find the most usable ore. I grew up, papa taught me how to mine, but more importantly, how to be confident, and bold. Mama taught me how to cut stone, you donât use the skill too much, but it can be valuable for fixing some of the cheaper tools, and shaping out supports when you run out of wood. She also taught me how to love, how to smile, how to take care of myself and act respectable to others.. I miss the days when it was that simple, smiles and good manners..
So thatâs how I lived, mining, working stone, making friends. I was generally rather popular, something about a pretty face and a good smile, so I had lot of friends. I picked my fancy from among the boys, and started a courtship. Everyone held a good opinion of me, the people I worked with in the mines, my parents, my friends among the merchants who took the iron and gold we dug up to other towns like Long Night and Dark Meadow Keep, then even further south to the war ravaged city of Dranscey. After a while, the gods tired of our comfort I suppose.. And the ancestors failed to protect us, the earth began to shake. At first we thought nothing of it, just kept working. But it got worse, and worse.. Until one day, the mines just collapsed, with most of the workers still inside..
We were trapped, many of my friends, and my lover, died instantly.. It took four days for them to dig those of us that survived out. Four days of sitting cold in the darkness, watching my friends die of their injuries.. With nothing but the distant clinking of the rescuers pickaxes to comfort me.. When I finally got out, I couldnât move from my bed for weeks. My injuries were minor, bruises and cuts. But I just kept hearing it, the rumbling, the screams.. And I never stopped hearing it, not as long as I was still in Solace Valley. When papa finally got me to move from bed, and we tried to go to work, I nearly passed out just looking at the mines.. Over time it became clear, I would never enter that darkness again, even if the ground shaking had stopped. Just living in a town with nothing but those mines, became unbearable. Every day there was a reminder of my loss, it was driving me insane.. So I gathered my savings and a family idol to protect me.. I said good bye to my parents, and I left. Headed out with one of the merchant caravans, hoping to find a new home, with different work.
We passed by Dark Meadow, and were met with racism from the lucin garrison there, something about us being barbaric pagans. Whatever, they can take their beliefs straight to nether. We kept travelling, headed towards Dranscey, which was a sort of gateway city to the north, many said the battles fought there are what kept the xitians out of the rest of the region, and many a young man had left Solace Valley to go prove his strength in Dranscey, few returned. There was a sort of civil conflict raging when we got there, three armies waging over the ruins.. So we spent the next several days swinging a wide arch around the city, trying to avoid getting spotted and pulled into the fighting. Then we headed further south. It was a long journey to the next city, but the merchants seemed excited. They said it was called Provensia, and good money could be made there. I didnât think to ask what they meant to do to make the money, turns out my merchant friends were part time drug smugglers. When we arrived, we were met with suspicion from the guards, then open hands from shady men Iâd forever regret dealing with. We were able to get me an inn room for a pretty decent price by talking to one of the merchantâs friends, and I tried to settle in, got to looking for work.
It didnât take me long to realize there is little honest work in Provensia.. I was run dry on my savings, and once out of the good graces of the innkeeper, I was stuck in a very harsh place, the streets were full of crime, and it was a struggle defending myself, making sure I was always near a city guard.. Until eventually, a steward to a wealthy household came looking for servants. Plenty of others wanted the job, but apparently he wanted a pretty face to keep in his masterâs grace. I took the job, and spent the next several weeks of my life learning all the basics of cooking, cleaning, standing straight, pressing and folding laundry.. It was tedious, repetitive work.. But not bad, I got a small room in the cellar for it, and safety.. I continued the work, kept learning all I could, and when I got hungry and my insignificant pay couldnât hold me? Well.. I had unquestioned access to the kitchen. They either didnât mind me stealing food, or they didnât know.
Over time, I slowly got more and more bold. Tending to wealthy parties and serving drinks to the highborns, was a good way to figure out who had what resources. Over the next several years, I learned how to get into a place, and take what I needed.. I guess over time it was moreso what I wanted. It wasnât hard to find a fence in Provensia to drop what youâve taken, and I was saving for the day Iâd have enough to leave that life and become a merchant. Maybe leave Provensia.. After a while, I started getting a reputation. People were catching on that someone was stealing from them, beating their servants in suspicion, so I started leaving a mark. A half-eaten apple at the scene of each crime, and an open window where I made my escape. It drove the wealthy folk Iâd taken from insane, but it kept them from blaming anyone but me, and earned me a name. âApple.â It wasnât honest, or good work.. But I wonât lie, I enjoyed it. It was thrilling and adventurous, and I didnât need to worry about lacking anything anymore.. My savings were enough to cover most needs, and I had safety in the room provided me for the housekeeping I did in the day time, to retreat to every night.
But, life is a journey. Eventually, it would make me move on again.. I got bold, too bold. I went against every rule in Provensia. I crossed the family, the big one. The one that controlled everything.. The Martillo family.. I planned a heist, like any other. A jeweled necklace in a display case. Simple. No sooner than I had gotten into the house through a window, was a shadowy assassin standing directly in front of me, leaning on the wall.. Casually eating an apple⦠He had a belt full of all sorts of wicked and cruel knives, and one look said this was one of Martilloâs boys. Youâd hear rumors about them, they had a reputation. They would do cruel things, horrid things, just to make a point. And there was no escape from them.. I tried to play it cool, act confident.. Then he called me by my name, told me where I live. Talked a bit about the last few places I robbed.. He even knew where I came from. The people native to this city have a saying. âMartillo has eyes, everywhere.â Theyâd say, I never understood how right they were. I got a bit of mercy, I was useful, and apparently a Martillo assassin doesnât choke a woman with her own tongue, thatâs for men. I was flogged, then he had me do a few smuggling jobs.. And then blew my cover, my identity, to all the nobles and gave me a day head start to run. Luckily, I kept my friends among the merchants, and before the bounty hunters could catch up with me, I found my way onto a small merchant ship.
Life is a journey, I moved on, I adapted. It wasnât hard becoming friends with the other sailors, they taught me a few basics to make myself useful on the ship, and allowed a failed thief into their tightly knit crew. I was a sailing merchant.. Somehow, getting caught was one of the best things that had ever happened to me, the Martillo family did me a favor I couldnât begin to repay. Honest work, freedom on the high seas, good company.. Long nights spent sharing sailorâs tales and pub rumors, enjoying the adventure and trade spread before us.
But Life.. Is a journey. We were on a job to deliver disaster relief supplies, and a family of passengers, to some tiny town in the forbidden lands, when we were caught by them.. The bastards of the seas.. Pirates. First it was just another ship, maybe under the same employ we were.. But as it got closer and closer, the black flag made it very clear. We tried to out maneuver them, gain some distance, but they were faster. They fired arrows through our sails, then pulled alongside and suddenly were upon us, slashing cutlass swords and shooting arrows. They knew no bounds, everyone was a target. Before I could even find a weapon an arrow flew into my shoulder, and sent me to the ground.. Within minutes, I was out.. I donât know how long I was out, I just know that when I woke a panicked child was tugging at my shirt, and everyone else was dead. The ship had been robbed dry, left damaged and adrift, and we were running aground. I had little time to get up before the ship was pulled apart into a mass of wreckage in the sands.. And thatâs where I am..
I broke the arrow.. But I left the head in, I donât know how to remove it.. Or if I should.. I wrapped the shoulder tight with some spare rags.. But Iâm just getting too light headed to do much. Me and the kid were the only ones who survived.. We set up a sort of shelter in the wreckage and are living on what food was left on board.. Just waiting for someone to find us.. Or a hint of where we should go.. I think tomorrow Iâm going to try and bury the dead.. Life is a journey.. Life is a journey.. So where the nether is it taking me now?
A note on entry to the setting:
She would be entering with another new character Ice is applying, but I would like to save the entrance until after the map switch, due to too much strain trying to RP multiple characters in this environment. I would like to build, or see about the server builders building, some wreckage on a beach for her point of entry, but if that isn't acceptable she could have walked a ways from the wreckage to encounter the setting. She is entering with an injury.
Skills: (List is exhaustive)
-Miner Related:
*Capable Prospecting & Mining.
*Basic Stone Shaping, Masonry.
*Basic Tool Maintenance.
-Housekeeper Related:
*Basic Cooking.
*Advanced Cleaning, Laundry, Organizing, etc.
*Clear Speaking.
-Thief Related:
*Basic Stealth.
*Basic Acrobatics/Obstacle Scaling.
*Basic Lock Picking.
-Sailor/Merchant Related:
*Capable Riggings & Rope Work.
*Basic Understanding of Sailing Principals.
*Basic Understanding of Trading Principals.
A note on skills:
She may have a considerable number of skills, but because of the nature of her constant change, most of them are minor skills with only basic understandings. She also has a complete lack of combat and survival skills, always having lived in groups.
Fears & Disadvantages:
-Crippling fear of the underground.
-No combat ability, no defense experience.
-Paranoid of relationships and settling in, âlife is a journeyâ, there are no stops.
-Paranoid of guards.
-Immense fear of pirates.
-Lacks honest, useful trades, save one, that she is too afraid to use.
-Bad with sight of blood or injuries, very weak stomach.
Goals:
-Move on in life, adapt.
-Find new work.
-Keep head down.
-Avoid too many ties to one place.
-Keep Varien fed & safe.
-Manage the wreckage of the Oblivion Mist, bury the crew.
Personality:
-Outgoing, jovial.
-Pessimistic, but not discouraging.
-Bold, but not brave.
-Protective of assets, friends.
-Cowardly, flees from any fight.
-Eager to learn.
-Typically loud and vibrant, not inspiring of calm.
-Depressive mood swings, esp. when faced with past, or bad events.
-Weak stomach.
-Talkative, but only about small things.
-No taste for romance, fear of commitments.
Theme:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ymwf2ucOf...58F9BACB92
Age: 24 Winters. (Birthday on 20th)
Height: 5'4" (64 Inches, 163 Centimeters)
Weight: About 130 Pounds
Description:
Wide light-Blue/Grey Eyes, wavy auburn hair, a light curvy frame held with bold confidence, and a well kept overall appearance that may identify with arrogance or trouble.
Backstory:
Life is a journey, thatâs what papa used to tell me.. Little did he know, I took it quite literally. Whenever things go south.. So do I. I just, kinda give up, and move on.. Reinvent myself.. So here I am, girl with at least four trades.. Yet no honest work. Iâm not sure where I am.. Iâve got an arrow head in my shoulder.. And the entire crew is dead, save for me, and one young passenger. Time to reinvent myself again, I guess..
But first, lets take a look at how we got here.. Iâve got all day to think about this, anyways.
I was born, to a simple miner, and a simple stoneworker, in a small settlement full of nothing but miners and stone workers. It was called âSolace Valleyâ, the story goes that there was no Xitian presence this far north before the Veld war, so escaped slaves and refugees could find their way here, and get honest happy work in the mines. They named us Solace, and our ancient name wasnât easy enough to translate into the trade language, so it stuck. Iâm not sure why the xitians never came here, they tell me itâs the cold, the harsh winters and frequent snows kill them, but lucins absolutely love it.. Anyways, Iâm getting off topic.. Dammit, canât think straight with this damn arrow in me..
I was raised a miner, of course. There arenât really many other jobs in solace valley, and in a humble settlement like that, you just do what your parents teach you. It wasnât bad, it felt good working down there, talking with my friends all day while we had our competitions to see who could make a mightier swing of the pick, or who could find the most usable ore. I grew up, papa taught me how to mine, but more importantly, how to be confident, and bold. Mama taught me how to cut stone, you donât use the skill too much, but it can be valuable for fixing some of the cheaper tools, and shaping out supports when you run out of wood. She also taught me how to love, how to smile, how to take care of myself and act respectable to others.. I miss the days when it was that simple, smiles and good manners..
So thatâs how I lived, mining, working stone, making friends. I was generally rather popular, something about a pretty face and a good smile, so I had lot of friends. I picked my fancy from among the boys, and started a courtship. Everyone held a good opinion of me, the people I worked with in the mines, my parents, my friends among the merchants who took the iron and gold we dug up to other towns like Long Night and Dark Meadow Keep, then even further south to the war ravaged city of Dranscey. After a while, the gods tired of our comfort I suppose.. And the ancestors failed to protect us, the earth began to shake. At first we thought nothing of it, just kept working. But it got worse, and worse.. Until one day, the mines just collapsed, with most of the workers still inside..
We were trapped, many of my friends, and my lover, died instantly.. It took four days for them to dig those of us that survived out. Four days of sitting cold in the darkness, watching my friends die of their injuries.. With nothing but the distant clinking of the rescuers pickaxes to comfort me.. When I finally got out, I couldnât move from my bed for weeks. My injuries were minor, bruises and cuts. But I just kept hearing it, the rumbling, the screams.. And I never stopped hearing it, not as long as I was still in Solace Valley. When papa finally got me to move from bed, and we tried to go to work, I nearly passed out just looking at the mines.. Over time it became clear, I would never enter that darkness again, even if the ground shaking had stopped. Just living in a town with nothing but those mines, became unbearable. Every day there was a reminder of my loss, it was driving me insane.. So I gathered my savings and a family idol to protect me.. I said good bye to my parents, and I left. Headed out with one of the merchant caravans, hoping to find a new home, with different work.
We passed by Dark Meadow, and were met with racism from the lucin garrison there, something about us being barbaric pagans. Whatever, they can take their beliefs straight to nether. We kept travelling, headed towards Dranscey, which was a sort of gateway city to the north, many said the battles fought there are what kept the xitians out of the rest of the region, and many a young man had left Solace Valley to go prove his strength in Dranscey, few returned. There was a sort of civil conflict raging when we got there, three armies waging over the ruins.. So we spent the next several days swinging a wide arch around the city, trying to avoid getting spotted and pulled into the fighting. Then we headed further south. It was a long journey to the next city, but the merchants seemed excited. They said it was called Provensia, and good money could be made there. I didnât think to ask what they meant to do to make the money, turns out my merchant friends were part time drug smugglers. When we arrived, we were met with suspicion from the guards, then open hands from shady men Iâd forever regret dealing with. We were able to get me an inn room for a pretty decent price by talking to one of the merchantâs friends, and I tried to settle in, got to looking for work.
It didnât take me long to realize there is little honest work in Provensia.. I was run dry on my savings, and once out of the good graces of the innkeeper, I was stuck in a very harsh place, the streets were full of crime, and it was a struggle defending myself, making sure I was always near a city guard.. Until eventually, a steward to a wealthy household came looking for servants. Plenty of others wanted the job, but apparently he wanted a pretty face to keep in his masterâs grace. I took the job, and spent the next several weeks of my life learning all the basics of cooking, cleaning, standing straight, pressing and folding laundry.. It was tedious, repetitive work.. But not bad, I got a small room in the cellar for it, and safety.. I continued the work, kept learning all I could, and when I got hungry and my insignificant pay couldnât hold me? Well.. I had unquestioned access to the kitchen. They either didnât mind me stealing food, or they didnât know.
Over time, I slowly got more and more bold. Tending to wealthy parties and serving drinks to the highborns, was a good way to figure out who had what resources. Over the next several years, I learned how to get into a place, and take what I needed.. I guess over time it was moreso what I wanted. It wasnât hard to find a fence in Provensia to drop what youâve taken, and I was saving for the day Iâd have enough to leave that life and become a merchant. Maybe leave Provensia.. After a while, I started getting a reputation. People were catching on that someone was stealing from them, beating their servants in suspicion, so I started leaving a mark. A half-eaten apple at the scene of each crime, and an open window where I made my escape. It drove the wealthy folk Iâd taken from insane, but it kept them from blaming anyone but me, and earned me a name. âApple.â It wasnât honest, or good work.. But I wonât lie, I enjoyed it. It was thrilling and adventurous, and I didnât need to worry about lacking anything anymore.. My savings were enough to cover most needs, and I had safety in the room provided me for the housekeeping I did in the day time, to retreat to every night.
But, life is a journey. Eventually, it would make me move on again.. I got bold, too bold. I went against every rule in Provensia. I crossed the family, the big one. The one that controlled everything.. The Martillo family.. I planned a heist, like any other. A jeweled necklace in a display case. Simple. No sooner than I had gotten into the house through a window, was a shadowy assassin standing directly in front of me, leaning on the wall.. Casually eating an apple⦠He had a belt full of all sorts of wicked and cruel knives, and one look said this was one of Martilloâs boys. Youâd hear rumors about them, they had a reputation. They would do cruel things, horrid things, just to make a point. And there was no escape from them.. I tried to play it cool, act confident.. Then he called me by my name, told me where I live. Talked a bit about the last few places I robbed.. He even knew where I came from. The people native to this city have a saying. âMartillo has eyes, everywhere.â Theyâd say, I never understood how right they were. I got a bit of mercy, I was useful, and apparently a Martillo assassin doesnât choke a woman with her own tongue, thatâs for men. I was flogged, then he had me do a few smuggling jobs.. And then blew my cover, my identity, to all the nobles and gave me a day head start to run. Luckily, I kept my friends among the merchants, and before the bounty hunters could catch up with me, I found my way onto a small merchant ship.
Life is a journey, I moved on, I adapted. It wasnât hard becoming friends with the other sailors, they taught me a few basics to make myself useful on the ship, and allowed a failed thief into their tightly knit crew. I was a sailing merchant.. Somehow, getting caught was one of the best things that had ever happened to me, the Martillo family did me a favor I couldnât begin to repay. Honest work, freedom on the high seas, good company.. Long nights spent sharing sailorâs tales and pub rumors, enjoying the adventure and trade spread before us.
But Life.. Is a journey. We were on a job to deliver disaster relief supplies, and a family of passengers, to some tiny town in the forbidden lands, when we were caught by them.. The bastards of the seas.. Pirates. First it was just another ship, maybe under the same employ we were.. But as it got closer and closer, the black flag made it very clear. We tried to out maneuver them, gain some distance, but they were faster. They fired arrows through our sails, then pulled alongside and suddenly were upon us, slashing cutlass swords and shooting arrows. They knew no bounds, everyone was a target. Before I could even find a weapon an arrow flew into my shoulder, and sent me to the ground.. Within minutes, I was out.. I donât know how long I was out, I just know that when I woke a panicked child was tugging at my shirt, and everyone else was dead. The ship had been robbed dry, left damaged and adrift, and we were running aground. I had little time to get up before the ship was pulled apart into a mass of wreckage in the sands.. And thatâs where I am..
I broke the arrow.. But I left the head in, I donât know how to remove it.. Or if I should.. I wrapped the shoulder tight with some spare rags.. But Iâm just getting too light headed to do much. Me and the kid were the only ones who survived.. We set up a sort of shelter in the wreckage and are living on what food was left on board.. Just waiting for someone to find us.. Or a hint of where we should go.. I think tomorrow Iâm going to try and bury the dead.. Life is a journey.. Life is a journey.. So where the nether is it taking me now?
A note on entry to the setting:
She would be entering with another new character Ice is applying, but I would like to save the entrance until after the map switch, due to too much strain trying to RP multiple characters in this environment. I would like to build, or see about the server builders building, some wreckage on a beach for her point of entry, but if that isn't acceptable she could have walked a ways from the wreckage to encounter the setting. She is entering with an injury.
Skills: (List is exhaustive)
-Miner Related:
*Capable Prospecting & Mining.
*Basic Stone Shaping, Masonry.
*Basic Tool Maintenance.
-Housekeeper Related:
*Basic Cooking.
*Advanced Cleaning, Laundry, Organizing, etc.
*Clear Speaking.
-Thief Related:
*Basic Stealth.
*Basic Acrobatics/Obstacle Scaling.
*Basic Lock Picking.
-Sailor/Merchant Related:
*Capable Riggings & Rope Work.
*Basic Understanding of Sailing Principals.
*Basic Understanding of Trading Principals.
A note on skills:
She may have a considerable number of skills, but because of the nature of her constant change, most of them are minor skills with only basic understandings. She also has a complete lack of combat and survival skills, always having lived in groups.
Fears & Disadvantages:
-Crippling fear of the underground.
-No combat ability, no defense experience.
-Paranoid of relationships and settling in, âlife is a journeyâ, there are no stops.
-Paranoid of guards.
-Immense fear of pirates.
-Lacks honest, useful trades, save one, that she is too afraid to use.
-Bad with sight of blood or injuries, very weak stomach.
Goals:
-Move on in life, adapt.
-Find new work.
-Keep head down.
-Avoid too many ties to one place.
-Keep Varien fed & safe.
-Manage the wreckage of the Oblivion Mist, bury the crew.
Personality:
-Outgoing, jovial.
-Pessimistic, but not discouraging.
-Bold, but not brave.
-Protective of assets, friends.
-Cowardly, flees from any fight.
-Eager to learn.
-Typically loud and vibrant, not inspiring of calm.
-Depressive mood swings, esp. when faced with past, or bad events.
-Weak stomach.
-Talkative, but only about small things.
-No taste for romance, fear of commitments.
Theme:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ymwf2ucOf...58F9BACB92