OOC
Minecraft Username: Ambiwitch
Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes, 26 yrs
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes
(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: Groggles
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In-Character
Read the following prompt:
The rhythmic lull of hoofbeats are a marching drum to the small group of pioneers and variety of folk you have found yourself amongst, packed into a wobbling wagon. The rolling plains of the Southern Reach and a clear sky stretch out all around you, the buzz of excited chatter a dull wash in your ears as your mind strays to your former life and what has led you here to new lands.
“Nervous?”
You blink, returning to the present moment. A kindly older woman sat near you is smiling warmly with a crinkle to her eyes.
“I can tell it’s your first time. Still remember mine,” she flashes a grin and leans in.
“Tell me my dear, why have you come to the Reach?”
How do you respond (in character)?
You are a poison. You are a blight. You are a tool that can be used. It is the name you bear that reminds you that you are these things. You must not forget what you are.
A Fey-Touched child born to parents she would never meet, instead she would be raised by a man who called himself her guardian - he was a father, a mentor... Or as close as one could be to such a thing, for he was all she had known. Her childhood was that of isolation, unusual for such a close knit community in the Mist Isles - the Mistan, who favored their company and their people, did not understand why the pair had always kept to themselves. In this tiny, humble village along the coast, they were as much as outsiders - She who had never participated in the Mistan rite of passage, she who had never reached her island's peak to declare her homage for it had never truly belong to her even if she had yearned for it. She who could only hear the distant song of the storyteller. Her guardian had preferred it this way.
Hemlock does not look at the older woman, she dwells on the memories instead and lets her gaze travel out to unfamiliar territory.
Her guardian was a man who was obsessed with his research above all else. To him, Hemlock was his muse and his curse. It was his fundamental belief that her ancestry had granted her a deeper connection to that of the Arcane, and by extension - that chaotic, unquenchable force of the unknown he so desperately sought; The Ether. He was a madman, he was a mage that meddled in theories. She was his grand design.
"To see." She finally responds after what felt like eons passing in the silence. "I wanted to get away." Her eyes finally fall onto the old woman, a look of distrust could not be shaken from Hemlock's features. "So I sailed, as my people do." Nothing more. It was all she wished to speak of. "Now leave me be."
—
Character Name: Hemlock
Character Race: Fey-Touched
Character Age: Early 20s
Brief Physical Description: A Fey-Touched woman standing at a comfortable 5'5" with dull red eyes that encompass the entirety of both the pupils and the whites. Pale skin, run ragged with blue veins as if a bloated corpse beneath the sea denotes her fey ancestry and gives her the illusion of sickly pallor. Rare as it is, her hair is equally as pale, contrasting heavily with the darker hues that often accompany her wardrobe; Black gowns, black shoes, and trimmed silver accessories.
Image of Skin and Figura Model:
Concept Sketch:
