3. Background: In a world controlled by the trade market, one clan stood above the rest. They called themselves the Valei and with their quick thinking minds and smart tongues, they manipulated and adapted the civilized territories to suit their wants and needs. Unlike the other clans, who held a form similar to a beast and were able to shape-shift to a specific animal form, the Valei were smooth skinned and unlike any creature to walk the planet. They were bright eyed and cunning, moving with a dangerous silence and almost alien compared to the others, and while history of the other clans could be traced back for centuries; the Valei had simply appeared one day from across the sea and commenced their casual takeover. The Valei had little respect for the other clans, seeing themselves as superior, and as their power grew so too did their cruelty.
Consumed by their greed and disrespect for the gifted lives bestowed upon them, the Valei were stripped of their grace and left to walk the world as lesser beings. Their ears lost their pointed ends and grew rounded in shape; they bled more freely and felt pain unlike anything they had ever known. Movement lost its fluency and they aged and died with utmost speed.
Society deemed them cursed and the other clans only aided in their fall. The Valei were forced from their ranks and status by brute force that their weakened forms could not defend against. Many died at this time and Valei numbers were reduced dramatically. Those that remained hid away in the wild lands, seeking solitude but finding themselves hunted at the Goddess’ command as a means of entertainment. The ones that were unable to flee the cities were captured and sold into slavery, killed or made to fight for their lives in the coliseums that they themselves had created.
Time passed and the story became a legend, an old story told to children before bed as a warning of what would happen should they misbehave. The clans continued to hold power, the shifters and the weres having become the leaders of the world and the Valei continued to serve, though the reason why was long forgotten. Those that performed acts of bravery and proved their usefulness, or fought in the Coliseum and won were deemed worthy of choice, and while still shunned by the clans, were liberated from slaver contract.
Chelle Vierren was a child of the Valei. Her mother, Brenai, was a servant in the house of Duke Lonore Arkess, a particularly wealthy clansman famed for their panther-like appearance and shape-shifting ability. Chelle’s father, Joh Vierren, had earned himself a reputation for his disregard for authority and refusal to back down. While a capable worker, Joh had too much spirit to be held down and after a series of fights, dismissals and escape attempts, had ended up in the possession of Lonore. In an attack from a rival clan, Joh proved a capable fighter and quick thinker and through his methods the manor was saved. Now indebted to the Valei man, Lonore offered Joh a single request. While most would have chosen freedom, Joh instead requested the protection of his unborn child, that the baby could not be touched, sold or traded so long as he was alive.
As Chelle approached her fifteenth birthday, her father was killed while attempting to break up a drunken fight amongst the other workers. Whatever protection his deal had put upon her was broken and the Duke was free to do with her as he pleased. A girl of her age was considered prime for 'entertainment' (whore, dancer, 'personal servant'... you get the gist of it.) The Valei slaves were close within their sanctions and word of the Dukes intentions spread quickly amongst the ranks. At the urgent request of her mother and with the aid of her co-workers, Chelle escaped the manor and into the wild lands. Many in her position would have died, or wandered the wilds until they went mad, but the gods had other plans for her.
By chance, Chelle stumbled upon one of the old roads that had been used when the Valei were at their prime. While overgrown and completely foreign to her, the road paved a path that kept her away from the dangerous undergrowth and mad creatures that lurked in the shadows. It gave a hope that it would lead her somewhere that an end was within sight. The supplies she'd left the manor with lasted her a few days and when that ran out Chelle was left with no choice but to press on. Weak and more exhausted than she'd ever been, Chelle had been on the verge of giving up when her journey brought her into contact with another on the lost roads. Black-market traders and a band of thieves known as the Aris also tread the path. A Valei man named Krane recognized her as one of his own and he along with his nephew, Jhett and his fellow trader, Relan, brought the girl to the port city of Das'nei.
The city was large and broken up via class and rank, or lack there-of. With Jhett as her guide, Chelle was taught how to survive in the city slums. She proved a natural climber and a fast hand when if came to pick pocketing. The roofs of the buildings became her new playground and as the years passed, both her skills and her determination grew. Chelle was bored with simple thievery. The girl knew she was good and wanted to try for more. With Jhett at her side, the pair ventured into more daring break-ins and with each victory, Chelle's eagerness grew. The castle of Baron Owen was their first major break, and while infiltration was a success, Chelle and Jhett underestimated the guard force. They were captured and scheduled for trial the following day.
The outcome was simple; Chelle would be sold in the slave market and Jhett would fight in the Coliseum. They were split up for the first time in years and in her desperate attempt to return to her closest friend, Chelle plucked the knife from the belt of a passing clan noble and attempted to fight her way free. She was quickly detained, but not before attracting the attention of a passing clansman. Her spark intrigued him and the Valei servant who walked at his side was dispatched to speak with her further. Questioning revealed her reasons for being on the market and upon relaying this to his master, Chelle was purchased.
Unlike what she'd expected, her new employer was a man that treated his workers well provided they followed his rules and did not question his orders. He was tall and lean with tanned skin and bright blue eyes. Around his right wrist he wore a single black band circlet. Shad was his name and he was very interested in Chelle's choice of profession. He called her Vie (Vee), claiming that he never bothered with first names and that her surname was too long.
For years Chelle, now Vie, worked under Shad's command, stealing from surrounding estates and castles at his request. While she aged with the rest of her crew, Shad never seemed to change in the slightest nor remove the band from his wrist. Story amongst the longer serving members of the group told that their wolfish leader had reigned for over two hundred years and never aged a day. Those that spoke however, were famous for their tall tales and half-truths and their stories were put off as nothing more than that. Vie was quick to dismiss the legends and carry on with her work. As her skills in thievery grew, Vie became a part of Shad’s Elites. The Elite’s walked at his side and were his best and most trusted companions. It was with this promotion that Vie learned the truth of the rumors. While she was still in the dark of how he did it, Shad had lived for 238 years and had reigned for 208 of those.
The life of crime continued until finally, they failed. A case was built against Shad and his Elites and his arrest was ordered. Armed soldiers storm the estate and Vie, Shad and two others of his personal guard were forced to retreat to the caves beneath the main home. Master hunters known as The Marksman were deployed to seek them out in the dark, stone maze. Shad’s guards were killed, leaving Vie and Shad to continue their escape.
Two crossbow bolts brought Shad to the ground, leaving him wounded and unable to move. Vie urged him to continue but her attempts were useless. With time he would heal and survive, but the hunters were closing in too fast. Shad muttered the truth of how he has lived as long as he has; the band on his wrist binds him to life. It does not make him immortal, but still very, very hard to kill.
Knowing that his time is up, Shad hands her the band from his wrist, telling her that his time is up and hers has now begun. Of the Marksman to approach first is Jhett, Vie’s lost companion from years ago. Recognizing his former friend at the side of his target, Jhett begged Vierren to stand back. She refused. Shad died with a smirk on his lips, pleased with his choice of an heir. To her fallen master she whispered a goodbye and slipped the band onto her wrist. Her head fell back, black leather fitting to her skin and she cried out. Her body reconstructed itself, rewriting her very being to be as Shad had been. The world tilted and faded out.
Darkness reigned for a time and Vie felt a strange calm run over her. The cave was gone, as were her fallen friends, enemies and everything else that had been there a moment before. A voice whispered to her, quiet but loud, distant but so close it was like they spoke right by her ear. It told her that it had been watching, that the path she had chosen was one few would ever be brave enough to so much as glance at, and that if she wanted, it would save her this one time. Ever cautious, she questioned the voice, asking identity, purpose and what was meant by 'save her'. The voice chuckled, and without answer, she was back in the cave. Around her the world moved slower than before, or perhaps it was that she moved faster. A quick kiss to the forehead of Shad and Vie fled the scene, quickly outrunning those who chased her and finding herself outside.
She ran, following no real course and simply pressing forward, knowing that she had to be away from the Marksman and out of sight. Shad's desert tower was not an option, and for the moment the port would be in lock down. Vie would have to still herself and wait, to use the time to recover and plan her next move. She was worn out, tired, and though she paid little attention to where she was going, Vie found herself staring at a small rundown shack, long neglected and falling apart. Within the building, or rather beneath it, was one of Shad's hidden bases, known only to his Elites and himself. If any had survived, this was the closest base to regroup at. Here, she would rest and wait.
The wait was one that would last forever. Weeks of hiding and waiting brought her nothing, so Vie was forced to step back into the world. She needed information, supplies and weapons, and there was only one person she knew she could depend on. A Clansman who was unlike the rest and who had never had an issue with her or her kind had played messenger and supply runner for Shad. His name was Fjork, and he was the closest thing Vie had to a friend. She knew the location of his home, and thus left a message coded that he would understand but no other would. They met, Fjork overjoyed to know that at least one had survived. She learned that Otello was dead and that Tarquin had vanished but was presumed dead due to the extent of his injuries. The tower had been mostly destroyed in the attack, it's people scattered or killed and the building itself left to crumble as a lesson to any who rebelled as Shad did. With Fjork on her side, Vie had a means of obtaining information and supplies as required..
Years passed, with Vie continuing her stealthy existance, waiting, seeking allies, refining her skills and preparing herself for what was to come. Ten years after the fall of Shad and Vie had not physically aged a day, thanks to the power of the bracelet she wore. She learned to walk amongst the clans without being noticed, to move like them when required so as not to give herself away. Fifteen years on and Vie finally returned to the tower. Broken down as the building was, the main supports of the tower still held strong and while looters had long since come and gone, Shad's inner sanctum remained hidden. Once inside, Vie lost herself in Shad's notes and books, learning from his research and deciding that she would finish what he had started. Shad had sought immortality, and now so would she. Movement in the tower caught her attention and when she went to investigate, Vie found two intruders. The men were clansman, but reckless and apparently uncaring. She hid, intent on ambushing one or both of them when the time was right. Before she could act, a knock to the head sent her to the floor.
When she opened her eyes, she was not where she was before
4. Personality: Vie is cocky, confident and ridiculously polite. She is curious about the world around her and the people and creatures that reside in it. The unknown scares her, so she makes an effort to know all there is to know about everything that she might better understand and curb any potential fear. She loves stories and conversation, and given her lifestyle the past few years, Vie almost craves a good chat. Well meaning as she is, there are times when her questioning gets her into trouble or causing offense to whom she speaks. It is rarely ever intended as such.
Make her mad and you will know about it. While she is a Valei, Vie is quick to stand up for herself provided the situation won't result in her immediate execution or imprisonment. It is this confident and defiant nature that allows her to disguise herself and walk amongst the clans without being detected as a Valei.
When relaxed, Vie is a happy young lady, quiet when she isn't in company and often found with her nose lost in the pages of a ridiculously large and complex book. She loves languages, and is quick to learn them. Often people take her small frame and clan as a sign of weakness. Vie quietly loves surprising people, and when she proves not only faster, but stronger and more skilled with a blade than first assumed, she can't help but feel a little smug.
5. Previous Game Developments: Nein.
6. Appearance: Vierren is, much as she doesn’t realize it, rather pretty. As if to stand against whatever flaws there were to her upbringing, she holds herself with an air of grace that is rare in girls of her age and background. She has a round face and long brown hair that is more often than not tied back with a strap of leather. The fringe she’d once worn has grown long, having initially stopped at her brow but now falling an inch past her chin. She doesn’t worry about it, rather preferring the longer, messier look of her thick hair than the shorter look that followed the fashions of her City but doesn’t suit her own personal preference. Most girls around her country had straight, dark hair that fell flat and perfect atop their heads; Vierren’s hair on the other hand had a natural, messy wave to it and as she’d discovered after falling victim to a pair of scissors, had a tendency to curl when it was too short. Her eyes are generally hazel, though they changed from time to time to a greener or browner shade depending a lot on what she wears or what kind of mood she’s in.
Body wise, Vierren is quite thin, perhaps too thin, partially on account of her build and partially due to the rough environment she’s been raised in. Regardless of her frame, Chelle is fit, agile and a brilliant climber. When it comes to swimming she’s no so capable, holding a quietly kept fear of large expanses of water that has put her off ever learning properly. While content to dance on the edge of the shore, throwing her in any further would result in panic and eventual rage. She has a birthmark on her left thigh the size of a thumb print but otherwise no definitive marking. Height wise she stands around 5’6”. On the middle finger of both hands she wears rings and each ear holds dual piercings in the lobe. The earrings worn are simple, small, silver hoops.
She favors comfort over class and will always take the option of pants or shorts over a dress. Never in her life has she worn a skirt, nor does she ever intend to. Though able to pull off the ‘feminine’ scene decently, Vie is something of a tomboy with no fear of getting dirty.
7. Abilities: Vie is light, fast and not afraid of heights. She can climb with ease and genuinely adores sitting somewhere high and dangerous without anything to hold her there or catch her if she falls. She’s quite good with knives and daggers and a fair shot with a bow, though given the lack of weaponry allowed on board, that doesn’t really matter too much. Having lived in the country for a sufficient part of her youth, Vie is also a good rider, namely of horses but she would adapt easily to another animal. As a thief for the most of her life, and a brilliant one at that, Vie is also an able lock picker and can move with almost perfect silence.
Sweet as she may appear on the outside, Vie can play the manipulative role when the need arises. The girl can lie without giving the game away and defend her false story with relative ease. In a way, this is used to test those she encounters; if they stick by their assumptions and fight to prove her wrong, Vie will offer a rare smile and happily spill the minimal information needed to get the person off her back. Then again, this could just be another lie… who knows.
8. Languages: English (Shenta), Kirovian
9. Items: Nothing but the clothes on her back and a leather band around her wrist that she is darn protective off. The band ties her to life and keeps her from illness. Wounds heal quickly and her pain tolerance is a little higher than it was without the band. This item is not magic, rather an artifact left from a far more advanced race. The mechanics of how it works are unknown to Vie, and she believes it to be a relic of her gods. But who are her gods..? (DO HO HO!)
10. Weapons: Twin blades that sheath across her lower back, a dagger in her left boot and a small knife on her thigh. 11. Writing sample - Third Person Prose: Vie shivered, frowning as she did so. Chilled as the desert night might have been, it was a weather condition she felt she should be used to by now. The shackles on her wrists were too big to sit comfortably, but not loose enough to slip free. Not a meter to her side sat a tall, lean man with sandy blonde hair. He was silent, staring at what she deemed a random place on the ground. He hadn't said a thing since they'd been arrested, and Vie found his lack of fight both a comfort and a bother. Smirking in the dark, the thin woman lashed out to lazily kick the man in the leg. "I'm not sorry, Sion. You started the fight just as much as I did."
The blonde man responded with an amused grunt, followed closely by a lazy drawl. "You don't sound worried, Vie. Faking it or are you just too stupid to realize how much shit you're in?" She kicked him again, harder this time. "I'll be out of this cell before sunrise, Sion. As for you, I cannot say the same. Who knows, perhaps I'll stick around to watch you hang." Her words were clipped, a smug undertone that had been hidden earlier slipping through.
He was non-responsive for a time, and Vie felt a slight hint of concern that perhaps she’d finally pushed him too far. It certainly wasn’t the first time they’d gotten into trouble because one or the other had refused to back down. The woman knew her companion wouldn’t leave her in the lurch and played on that more often than her conscious should have allowed. There were times when she felt a slight pang of guilt, and others, like now, where she almost felt sick from it. Their friendship was a strange one, a forbidden affection mingled with bickering and rivalry.
When the light haired man leaned towards her as well, their arms met at odd angles from the height differences between them. Vie, while proud, didn’t mind feeling small beside her accomplice, and with the hand that was able she reached to hold his arm and run her fingers lightly along the skin. In the darkness, Sion smirked, letting her hand tread it's course before reaching to seize it in his own. A light squeeze from a calloused hand and he let her go, dropping her hand away from his arm. "You know I wouldn't."
A short pause. Sion grunted in response. "Alright, slave. What's the plan?" he muttered, their usual bickering banter making a speedy return.
The woman grinned in response and shifted to her feet. "For starters mar Yern, get up. We've only a few hours until sunrise and I'll not be executed because you failed to keep up."
12. Writing sample - First Person Prose: Breathe, Vie. Just breathe. You're still alive and in one piece. Whoever they are, they've left your blades at your side and none of your supplies or equipment has been touched.
[Her breath steadies, a forced calm. The woman chooses to focus on her new surroundings as opposed to the book in her hand.]
These quarters, this building I'm in. Designed to contain and yet purposely left open to be explored. Am I to assume that this is no prison? Or that another lurks outside to strike me down should I choose to run.
[Another pause. The book is set down on a hard surface. She still doesn't seem to realize it's broadcasting. Footsteps light, the only indication of her movement is the coming and going of her musing voice.]
I've come this far, I will not fall. Not after everything. Not after you. If it is a fight they wish, then they will have it. Though perhaps the allowance of my things is something of a peace offering..? Hah. Most unlikely. I'll not let my guard down.
Lastly, come on over to the keep_ooc and introduce yourself! You are also welcome (and encouraged!) to say hello in our AIM chat, chatofthekeep. Get yourself settled in and if you have any questions, please contact a moderator!
Age: 23
Journal: xhannay
Contact: xhan23 @ aim
1. Character's Name: Chelle 'Vie' Vierren
2. Age: 38
3. Background:
In a world controlled by the trade market, one clan stood above the rest. They called themselves the Valei and with their quick thinking minds and smart tongues, they manipulated and adapted the civilized territories to suit their wants and needs. Unlike the other clans, who held a form similar to a beast and were able to shape-shift to a specific animal form, the Valei were smooth skinned and unlike any creature to walk the planet. They were bright eyed and cunning, moving with a dangerous silence and almost alien compared to the others, and while history of the other clans could be traced back for centuries; the Valei had simply appeared one day from across the sea and commenced their casual takeover. The Valei had little respect for the other clans, seeing themselves as superior, and as their power grew so too did their cruelty.
Consumed by their greed and disrespect for the gifted lives bestowed upon them, the Valei were stripped of their grace and left to walk the world as lesser beings. Their ears lost their pointed ends and grew rounded in shape; they bled more freely and felt pain unlike anything they had ever known. Movement lost its fluency and they aged and died with utmost speed.
Society deemed them cursed and the other clans only aided in their fall. The Valei were forced from their ranks and status by brute force that their weakened forms could not defend against. Many died at this time and Valei numbers were reduced dramatically. Those that remained hid away in the wild lands, seeking solitude but finding themselves hunted at the Goddess’ command as a means of entertainment. The ones that were unable to flee the cities were captured and sold into slavery, killed or made to fight for their lives in the coliseums that they themselves had created.
Time passed and the story became a legend, an old story told to children before bed as a warning of what would happen should they misbehave. The clans continued to hold power, the shifters and the weres having become the leaders of the world and the Valei continued to serve, though the reason why was long forgotten. Those that performed acts of bravery and proved their usefulness, or fought in the Coliseum and won were deemed worthy of choice, and while still shunned by the clans, were liberated from slaver contract.
Chelle Vierren was a child of the Valei. Her mother, Brenai, was a servant in the house of Duke Lonore Arkess, a particularly wealthy clansman famed for their panther-like appearance and shape-shifting ability. Chelle’s father, Joh Vierren, had earned himself a reputation for his disregard for authority and refusal to back down. While a capable worker, Joh had too much spirit to be held down and after a series of fights, dismissals and escape attempts, had ended up in the possession of Lonore. In an attack from a rival clan, Joh proved a capable fighter and quick thinker and through his methods the manor was saved. Now indebted to the Valei man, Lonore offered Joh a single request. While most would have chosen freedom, Joh instead requested the protection of his unborn child, that the baby could not be touched, sold or traded so long as he was alive.
As Chelle approached her fifteenth birthday, her father was killed while attempting to break up a drunken fight amongst the other workers. Whatever protection his deal had put upon her was broken and the Duke was free to do with her as he pleased. A girl of her age was considered prime for 'entertainment' (whore, dancer, 'personal servant'... you get the gist of it.) The Valei slaves were close within their sanctions and word of the Dukes intentions spread quickly amongst the ranks. At the urgent request of her mother and with the aid of her co-workers, Chelle escaped the manor and into the wild lands. Many in her position would have died, or wandered the wilds until they went mad, but the gods had other plans for her.
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The city was large and broken up via class and rank, or lack there-of. With Jhett as her guide, Chelle was taught how to survive in the city slums. She proved a natural climber and a fast hand when if came to pick pocketing. The roofs of the buildings became her new playground and as the years passed, both her skills and her determination grew. Chelle was bored with simple thievery. The girl knew she was good and wanted to try for more. With Jhett at her side, the pair ventured into more daring break-ins and with each victory, Chelle's eagerness grew. The castle of Baron Owen was their first major break, and while infiltration was a success, Chelle and Jhett underestimated the guard force. They were captured and scheduled for trial the following day.
The outcome was simple; Chelle would be sold in the slave market and Jhett would fight in the Coliseum. They were split up for the first time in years and in her desperate attempt to return to her closest friend, Chelle plucked the knife from the belt of a passing clan noble and attempted to fight her way free. She was quickly detained, but not before attracting the attention of a passing clansman. Her spark intrigued him and the Valei servant who walked at his side was dispatched to speak with her further. Questioning revealed her reasons for being on the market and upon relaying this to his master, Chelle was purchased.
Unlike what she'd expected, her new employer was a man that treated his workers well provided they followed his rules and did not question his orders. He was tall and lean with tanned skin and bright blue eyes. Around his right wrist he wore a single black band circlet. Shad was his name and he was very interested in Chelle's choice of profession. He called her Vie (Vee), claiming that he never bothered with first names and that her surname was too long.
For years Chelle, now Vie, worked under Shad's command, stealing from surrounding estates and castles at his request. While she aged with the rest of her crew, Shad never seemed to change in the slightest nor remove the band from his wrist. Story amongst the longer serving members of the group told that their wolfish leader had reigned for over two hundred years and never aged a day. Those that spoke however, were famous for their tall tales and half-truths and their stories were put off as nothing more than that. Vie was quick to dismiss the legends and carry on with her work. As her skills in thievery grew, Vie became a part of Shad’s Elites. The Elite’s walked at his side and were his best and most trusted companions. It was with this promotion that Vie learned the truth of the rumors. While she was still in the dark of how he did it, Shad had lived for 238 years and had reigned for 208 of those.
The life of crime continued until finally, they failed. A case was built against Shad and his Elites and his arrest was ordered. Armed soldiers storm the estate and Vie, Shad and two others of his personal guard were forced to retreat to the caves beneath the main home. Master hunters known as The Marksman were deployed to seek them out in the dark, stone maze. Shad’s guards were killed, leaving Vie and Shad to continue their escape.
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Knowing that his time is up, Shad hands her the band from his wrist, telling her that his time is up and hers has now begun. Of the Marksman to approach first is Jhett, Vie’s lost companion from years ago. Recognizing his former friend at the side of his target, Jhett begged Vierren to stand back. She refused. Shad died with a smirk on his lips, pleased with his choice of an heir. To her fallen master she whispered a goodbye and slipped the band onto her wrist. Her head fell back, black leather fitting to her skin and she cried out. Her body reconstructed itself, rewriting her very being to be as Shad had been. The world tilted and faded out.
Darkness reigned for a time and Vie felt a strange calm run over her. The cave was gone, as were her fallen friends, enemies and everything else that had been there a moment before. A voice whispered to her, quiet but loud, distant but so close it was like they spoke right by her ear. It told her that it had been watching, that the path she had chosen was one few would ever be brave enough to so much as glance at, and that if she wanted, it would save her this one time. Ever cautious, she questioned the voice, asking identity, purpose and what was meant by 'save her'. The voice chuckled, and without answer, she was back in the cave. Around her the world moved slower than before, or perhaps it was that she moved faster. A quick kiss to the forehead of Shad and Vie fled the scene, quickly outrunning those who chased her and finding herself outside.
She ran, following no real course and simply pressing forward, knowing that she had to be away from the Marksman and out of sight. Shad's desert tower was not an option, and for the moment the port would be in lock down. Vie would have to still herself and wait, to use the time to recover and plan her next move. She was worn out, tired, and though she paid little attention to where she was going, Vie found herself staring at a small rundown shack, long neglected and falling apart. Within the building, or rather beneath it, was one of Shad's hidden bases, known only to his Elites and himself. If any had survived, this was the closest base to regroup at. Here, she would rest and wait.
The wait was one that would last forever. Weeks of hiding and waiting brought her nothing, so Vie was forced to step back into the world. She needed information, supplies and weapons, and there was only one person she knew she could depend on. A Clansman who was unlike the rest and who had never had an issue with her or her kind had played messenger and supply runner for Shad. His name was Fjork, and he was the closest thing Vie had to a friend. She knew the location of his home, and thus left a message coded that he would understand but no other would. They met, Fjork overjoyed to know that at least one had survived. She learned that Otello was dead and that Tarquin had vanished but was presumed dead due to the extent of his injuries. The tower had been mostly destroyed in the attack, it's people scattered or killed and the building itself left to crumble as a lesson to any who rebelled as Shad did. With Fjork on her side, Vie had a means of obtaining information and supplies as required..
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When she opened her eyes, she was not where she was before
4. Personality:
Vie is cocky, confident and ridiculously polite. She is curious about the world around her and the people and creatures that reside in it. The unknown scares her, so she makes an effort to know all there is to know about everything that she might better understand and curb any potential fear. She loves stories and conversation, and given her lifestyle the past few years, Vie almost craves a good chat. Well meaning as she is, there are times when her questioning gets her into trouble or causing offense to whom she speaks. It is rarely ever intended as such.
Make her mad and you will know about it. While she is a Valei, Vie is quick to stand up for herself provided the situation won't result in her immediate execution or imprisonment. It is this confident and defiant nature that allows her to disguise herself and walk amongst the clans without being detected as a Valei.
When relaxed, Vie is a happy young lady, quiet when she isn't in company and often found with her nose lost in the pages of a ridiculously large and complex book. She loves languages, and is quick to learn them. Often people take her small frame and clan as a sign of weakness. Vie quietly loves surprising people, and when she proves not only faster, but stronger and more skilled with a blade than first assumed, she can't help but feel a little smug.
5. Previous Game Developments: Nein.
6. Appearance:
Vierren is, much as she doesn’t realize it, rather pretty. As if to stand against whatever flaws there were to her upbringing, she holds herself with an air of grace that is rare in girls of her age and background. She has a round face and long brown hair that is more often than not tied back with a strap of leather. The fringe she’d once worn has grown long, having initially stopped at her brow but now falling an inch past her chin. She doesn’t worry about it, rather preferring the longer, messier look of her thick hair than the shorter look that followed the fashions of her City but doesn’t suit her own personal preference. Most girls around her country had straight, dark hair that fell flat and perfect atop their heads; Vierren’s hair on the other hand had a natural, messy wave to it and as she’d discovered after falling victim to a pair of scissors, had a tendency to curl when it was too short. Her eyes are generally hazel, though they changed from time to time to a greener or browner shade depending a lot on what she wears or what kind of mood she’s in.
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She favors comfort over class and will always take the option of pants or shorts over a dress. Never in her life has she worn a skirt, nor does she ever intend to. Though able to pull off the ‘feminine’ scene decently, Vie is something of a tomboy with no fear of getting dirty.
7. Abilities:
Vie is light, fast and not afraid of heights. She can climb with ease and genuinely adores sitting somewhere high and dangerous without anything to hold her there or catch her if she falls. She’s quite good with knives and daggers and a fair shot with a bow, though given the lack of weaponry allowed on board, that doesn’t really matter too much. Having lived in the country for a sufficient part of her youth, Vie is also a good rider, namely of horses but she would adapt easily to another animal. As a thief for the most of her life, and a brilliant one at that, Vie is also an able lock picker and can move with almost perfect silence.
Sweet as she may appear on the outside, Vie can play the manipulative role when the need arises. The girl can lie without giving the game away and defend her false story with relative ease. In a way, this is used to test those she encounters; if they stick by their assumptions and fight to prove her wrong, Vie will offer a rare smile and happily spill the minimal information needed to get the person off her back. Then again, this could just be another lie… who knows.
8. Languages: English (Shenta), Kirovian
9. Items:
Nothing but the clothes on her back and a leather band around her wrist that she is darn protective off. The band ties her to life and keeps her from illness. Wounds heal quickly and her pain tolerance is a little higher than it was without the band. This item is not magic, rather an artifact left from a far more advanced race. The mechanics of how it works are unknown to Vie, and she believes it to be a relic of her gods. But who are her gods..? (DO HO HO!)
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Twin blades that sheath across her lower back, a dagger in her left boot and a small knife on her thigh.
11. Writing sample - Third Person Prose:
Vie shivered, frowning as she did so. Chilled as the desert night might have been, it was a weather condition she felt she should be used to by now. The shackles on her wrists were too big to sit comfortably, but not loose enough to slip free. Not a meter to her side sat a tall, lean man with sandy blonde hair. He was silent, staring at what she deemed a random place on the ground. He hadn't said a thing since they'd been arrested, and Vie found his lack of fight both a comfort and a bother. Smirking in the dark, the thin woman lashed out to lazily kick the man in the leg. "I'm not sorry, Sion. You started the fight just as much as I did."
The blonde man responded with an amused grunt, followed closely by a lazy drawl. "You don't sound worried, Vie. Faking it or are you just too stupid to realize how much shit you're in?"
She kicked him again, harder this time. "I'll be out of this cell before sunrise, Sion. As for you, I cannot say the same. Who knows, perhaps I'll stick around to watch you hang." Her words were clipped, a smug undertone that had been hidden earlier slipping through.
He was non-responsive for a time, and Vie felt a slight hint of concern that perhaps she’d finally pushed him too far. It certainly wasn’t the first time they’d gotten into trouble because one or the other had refused to back down. The woman knew her companion wouldn’t leave her in the lurch and played on that more often than her conscious should have allowed. There were times when she felt a slight pang of guilt, and others, like now, where she almost felt sick from it. Their friendship was a strange one, a forbidden affection mingled with bickering and rivalry.
When the light haired man leaned towards her as well, their arms met at odd angles from the height differences between them. Vie, while proud, didn’t mind feeling small beside her accomplice, and with the hand that was able she reached to hold his arm and run her fingers lightly along the skin. In the darkness, Sion smirked, letting her hand tread it's course before reaching to seize it in his own. A light squeeze from a calloused hand and he let her go, dropping her hand away from his arm. "You know I wouldn't."
A short pause. Sion grunted in response. "Alright, slave. What's the plan?" he muttered, their usual bickering banter making a speedy return.
The woman grinned in response and shifted to her feet. "For starters mar Yern, get up. We've only a few hours until sunrise and I'll not be executed because you failed to keep up."
12. Writing sample - First Person Prose:
Breathe, Vie. Just breathe. You're still alive and in one piece. Whoever they are, they've left your blades at your side and none of your supplies or equipment has been touched.
[Her breath steadies, a forced calm. The woman chooses to focus on her new surroundings as opposed to the book in her hand.]
These quarters, this building I'm in. Designed to contain and yet purposely left open to be explored. Am I to assume that this is no prison? Or that another lurks outside to strike me down should I choose to run.
[Another pause. The book is set down on a hard surface. She still doesn't seem to realize it's broadcasting. Footsteps light, the only indication of her movement is the coming and going of her musing voice.]
I've come this far, I will not fall. Not after everything. Not after you. If it is a fight they wish, then they will have it. Though perhaps the allowance of my things is something of a peace offering..? Hah. Most unlikely. I'll not let my guard down.
[Vie makes an amused sound]
And again, you're talking to yourself. Seki.
13. Tattoo: Left hip!
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1. Join these communities:
• holloways_keep
2. Post to the following:• keep_ooc
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• and if you are 18 or older, keep_adult
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Lastly, come on over to the keep_ooc and introduce yourself! You are also welcome (and encouraged!) to say hello in our AIM chat, chatofthekeep. Get yourself settled in and if you have any questions, please contact a moderator!• The Taken Characters Page
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Once again, welcome to the game!
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