OOC Minecraft Username: booberrymufs Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes  Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: (Max. 1) Were you referred by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username: Pyrias (I think) (Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): Hey guys! I'm Jay, my pronouns are she/her! I used to be LT for FantasyRP on RoleplayHub a couple of years ago.  — 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)? (250 word minimum - please make sure to include at least three references to our lore in your response, with two coming from different pages in the Compendium.  Two of the three selected should also be in-depth, avoid simply name-dropping lore terms. Tie the terms into your character's backstory. Why are they important to them?) Freya turns to her, the warm smile on the older woman’s face almost comforting. The words feel heavy, but Freya finds herself speaking them nonetheless.   "I come from the remnants of the Aedall," she begins, her voice quieter than she’d intended. "We were once the last true heirs of the Arsa Sidhe—proud, scholarly, and steeped in the ancient ways. But it was not enough. The Collapse... it changed everything. The rise of the Nua Sidhe—the humans—led to the end of our golden age. The great Citadel, where our ancestors once ruled, was burned to the ground. And with it, the empire that had stood for millennia fell apart. We were the rulers, and then we weren’t. Our people fragmented."   Freya pauses, drawing a breath before continuing, eyes fixed on the horizon. “For generations, we clung to the old ways, to the idea that we were the rightful heirs of the world. But the more I saw of the Aedall’s traditions, the more I realized that the past we held so tightly to was choking us. My parents, scholars of the old tongue, believed that the Aedall would one day rise again, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were only prolonging the inevitable. The traditions, the rituals—they were just remnants of something that no longer had a place in the world.”   She lowers her gaze, reflecting on the void left behind. “Then, the Great Disappearance happened—the last of the Aedall simply vanished. The villages were abandoned overnight, and no one knew where we went. It was as if the very land had swallowed us whole. But I think we knew it was coming. We had isolated ourselves too much from the world, from change, from progress. And when I left, it felt like leaving behind a memory—one I could never quite forget but could never live in again.”   The wagon jostles as the road grows uneven, and Freya gathers her thoughts, staring ahead as if seeing something far beyond the plains. “I’ve come to the Reach to find a way forward. The land calls to those seeking freedom, a place to rebuild. I don’t know what happened to my people—whether they are lost or simply fading from memory—but I refuse to let their ghosts determine my future.” — Character Name: Freya Character Race: Arsa Sidhe Character Age: 22 Brief Physical Description: Freya is a young Arsa Sidhe woman with a presence that carries the weight of history, despite her modest stature. Standing shorter than most of her kind at 5’8, she moves with quiet determination, her figure lean but sturdy from years of travel. Her skin is a deep, earthen hue, reminiscent of rich mahogany, contrasting sharply with the striking crimson of her eyes—an ember-like glow that hints at the fire of her lineage. Thick, wavy black hair cascades past her shoulders, often kept loosely tied back to keep it out of her face. High cheekbones and a sharp, angular jawline give her an air of quiet intensity, but the softness in her expression betrays a soul caught between the past and the future. Though she carries herself with the grace of old blood, her worn traveling clothes and well-used gear mark her as someone who has long abandoned the trappings of nobility.