Character Name: Laesara Wymrith
Race: Orderite
Gender: Female
Path: Battle (Exact path unknown)
Appearance:
Color Palette
Paper Doll reference
Paper Doll reference
Hair:
- Laesara's hair is a highly-saturated tan-blonde with rose elements in it, especially near the tips. It is thick with a slight waviness to it.
It is highly tamable, and she prefers it in the following styles:
Hairstyle one
^ is a more formal hairstyle. Her hair is bound up into a braided bun at the back of her head, with bangs and two side locks hanging by her ears.
Hairstyle 2
^ is a less formal hairstyle, as it requires less effort. In this one, her mane of hair is out, usually held out of her face by a hair ornament such as a series of berets, a headband or, in her early years, a bandana or cloth band.
Skin:
- Laesara's skin is a pale gold. I would like it to be outside the range of human tones – so err on the yellow side. It tans to a rich, dark gold.
Ears
- Reference
Her ears are short and triangular, with a twist.
Structure
- One of my original inspirations for her was Athena. If possible, I would like the structure of her face and body to be inspired by such a statue. If this does not inspire you, take whatever approach you feel you need to.
Eyes:
- Laesara's eyes are a dark blue or indigo. Eyes sometimes have variations in color/shading throughout, and in her case this tends to blue in the lighter ranges or a dark, murky sea green in the darker ranges.
Wings:
- Laesara's wings have a base of white, with rose patterning in the style of a Herring gull. Although they theoretically have the same structure, I am not as attached to that artistically, and feel free to make them fluffy or angelic or such. Or, even, not show them at all.
Clothing:
- Left up to the colorist.
Either good, outdoorsy/adventury things, or nice noble wear, likely a dress.
Personality:
Laesara is tender in years, but she holds herself with a quiet, fierce, stubborn dignity that makes her appear older than the little girl she is and hides a blazing inner core. Outwardly polite, Laesara is an intelligent conversationalist, happy to talk about any subject and good – also – at listening. It is clear that Laesara, despite her age, understands more than one would expect.
Laesara likes to fill in the gaps in her knowledge. She is highly attentive to people, her lessons, and her surroundings. She approaches her problems with a logical intensity and relentless determination that usually sees them, if not solved, then mediated into something less troublesome than they had been. She is a fast learner, drinking up information like a drought-stricken tree and always – always – hungry for more.
This intensity is the tip of an iceberg of dynamic energy: Laesara is a creature that must be – somehow – in motion. Though she is capable of a great degree of self control and can sit still even when bored, there comes a time when she must break free and move. Her favorite form of release is physical activity; riding, playing sports with others, and – especially – combat are her favorite outlets.
Though she does well as a young, fledgling noble – she is a creature of the wild, born to battle. She loves her martial and magical lessons, and something about violence intrigues and – to her dismay – delights her. This wildness within her cannot be soothed in the stone confines of civilization; much like her father she finds peace in real gardens and natural environments. She has never been able to escape into fiction – a book is only a source of imagery and information to her. Escape, for her, is the calls of animals, the smell of the sea, and the rustling silence of a forest.
But even as she is a wild beast at heart, she is – simultaneously – that peculiar breed of predator that stalks the hallowed halls of civilization. Born to power and money, she will use what she has to her – and her family's – advantage. Politics is as much her element as the forest: she will claw her way to the top, ruining lives in her path if she must. When the occasion arises, she is not above murder and lies, and will feel no regrets for anybody she causes to suffer. She is capable of the emotions of guilt, and she feels pain and sorrow and is perfectly able to empathize with others: she simply does not attach those emotions to people in her or her family's way.
Her family is, literally, everything to her. It is not just blood and kin, it is her identity and reason for being. She will do anything for her family, anything at all, and the threat of losing that family or – worse – being cast out of it would be more terrible to her than a threat of death.
But even to her closest, most trusted kin, she holds herself back: behind her dignified manner is, indeed, a little girl; a little girl who was badly traumatized. She keeps many things private and aloof even from friends, things that she longs to share but dares not: she feels that nobody else will understand the things she feels.
And so she remains a child of contradictions; gregarious and aloof, controlled and wild, neutral and yet dedicated to the forces she believes in. And, somehow, she keeps it all in balance. Mature in many ways already, how she matures further, as she grows and ages, will be fascinating to watch.
Biography/Background:
Baelen Wymrith, a scion of the old noble Orderite family Wymrith, had had enough of the scandal in his life. His first wife had died of illness, and his second wife had run off with another man, and neither had left him any heirs.
Rumors surrounding them were of the usual political harshness and, instead of weathering them and turning them to his benefit – which he likely could have – Baelen chose to escape the scrutiny of scandal and take to the wilds. Not as some tribal, of course, but as a noble hunter of beasts. He hired guides, porters, and mercenaries, finding the members of the Wild Tribe to be the most experienced and valuable of them all. He learned, intimately, the wild lands of Magesc while pampered (to what he considered a reasonable extent) on the back of his prized Eowyn-bred hastar. He brought back magnificent trophies to grace his home and the homes of his siblings and nephews, as well as the museums and studies of the arcane University.
He was happy to keep his visits back home brief, finding the rugged wilderness (and the comfort his servants provided him while in it) to be preferable to the deadly games of serpentine intrigue in the city. In the wild, it was clear who hunted who, and who would come out on top in the end. It was a welcome distraction from his own lack of an heir, which bothered him deeply as it was not only a reflection on his own virility, but it left him without a link to the future or something to carry on his name and fortune after he was gone. His part of the family fortune would go to a nephew, and – in his mind – none of them deserved what was his.
Occasionally, Baelen would take one of the female servants or guides into his tent for a time. They were all temporary, fleeting on both sides, mere entertainment or, in some cases, simply business. One such woman was a Wild Tribe guide, an Orderite barbarian named Saaramos. Regularly hired for many of his expeditions, her beauty and friendly, open nature meant that she often ended up in Baelen's tent.
One day, though, Baelen discovered she was pregnant. She had been trying to hide it, but he was perceptive and soon noticed the growing bulge at her abdomen and the change in her behavior. He confronted her, and confirmed it was his. He was delighted and amazed – he was well into his sixth decade, and he had given up on ever producing an heir and having that link to the future. He considered her pregnancy a miracle, and begged her to marry him and make the child legitimate.
She refused. She would not marry, she said, and she refused to be tied down.
He promised her wealth and prestige, and the same to her family in the wild tribe, should she marry him.
She refused. She did not want to live as a noble, and her family would not appreciate the wealth he promised.
He threatened her, saying he would send mercenaries to destroy her tribal community, or make things difficult for the smugglers she was tribe-kin to.
She refused, and told him she would kill him first.
He realized he could not convince her to marry him, so he asked her – kindly – if she would give or sell him the child. She could be free herself, and richer, he said, and they would both be happy.
She refused again, and was disgusted with him.
Desperate and in a rage, Baelen had his guards restrain her and he imprisoned her in the cellars of one of his homes. For a while, Baelen visited her regularly, trying to convince her that giving him the child was her only option. But Saaramos was stubborn, and eventually he gave up: he would take the child from her when it was born, and that would be that. What happened to the woman afterwards was no longer his concern.
When Saaramos went into labor in her cell, Baelen was in Ashen city on business. He had made ready for such an occasion, however, and she was quickly moved to a plush room, stocked with the best medical supplies available and the most experienced and expensive midwife money could buy. And thus was the story of his daughter's birth: a healthy golden-skinned baby orderite girl.
Saaramos, invigorated by the fresh and beautiful face of her child took advantage of her lessened guard. She was a bezerker, an axe-wielder with a reputation for furious fighting. She knew that this was her one chance to escape, alive, with her daughter. She wanted her daughter to be raised in freedom, by her, and this desire allowed her to trigger her bezerker rage. She took a plank of wood and bludgeoned her way out of the estate she had been imprisoned in, taking her child with her. There were guards, but they had been expecting a weakened, fatigued woman, not the fury that came at them, still bloodied and disheveled from childbirth. They dared not try too hard to stop her, for fear of harming their master's child and bringing hell upon them all.
Saaramos escaped into the wild lands and survived a rough night of extreme exhaustion and weakness in the aftermath of her raging. She used her knowledge of the untamed places and her rapport with the less-fortunate peoples of Serenia to feed herself and procure clothes and supplies for her and her baby.
For a time, she reunited with the Serenian band of the wild tribe. There, she was able to engineer the clever return of her imprinted axe and contact an old friend, an ex-merc exile named Malmesch Nalet. But only for a time, alas, as Baelen spared no resource on his search for his daughter. Mercenaries (and the official Serenian guard) scoured the land, searching for the child, and Saaramos knew that to stay with the tribe was to court disaster for them all.
She met up with Mal and they fled into the wildnerness with the little girl, intending to raise her so deep in the wilds of Serenia that they would never be found. They named her Laesara, and Mal raised her as if she was his own.
She was a beautiful, bright, able child, and grew up healthy and strong on wild game, vegetables and fruit. She was taught how to shoot with a bow and swing with an axe and slash with a blade. She was taught how to hunt and skin and cook. Most of all, she grew up loved, with a warm, happy mother and a man who truly did care about her, though he made no claim to being her kin. This was life for her, and she was happy in it.
But her blood father was relentless in his search. As year after year passed, he spent much of his time and money seeking his child. At first, he rode out himself, searching in person with his mercenaries and allies, but a shocking encounter with a rare and dangerous babosa cost him much of his leg to it's teeth and caustic fluids, and he was forced to remain home as mercenaries did the work for him.
Eventually, those mercenaries found the little family. Mal and Saaramos fought, but Saaramos was soon slain – her death had been part of the deal. Fortunately for Mal, the mercenaries knew him personally and, because of friendship and professional courtesy, they offered him a deal: Let them take the girl, and they'd let him go.
He knew he could take out half of them if he tried, but he would still end up dead dead, leaving Laesara, then six years old, alone. Just because the mercenaries were friends of his did not mean that he trusted them with 'his' girl. Saaramos had asked him to protect her daughter, and he knew he couldn't do that dead. And, looking at the girl's bright blue eyes, he knew she did not want him to leave her. Decision made, Mal picked her up and joined the mercenaries as they marched her back to her father... and to a future unlike anything she had ever lived before.
Thoughts on the Great Engagement:
Laesara has always had a sense of her place in the world, one that subtly changes over time.
Should peace break and the tides of war return, Laesara knows that she will fight for her own people, and that they are in the right. This does not fuel hatered: Laesara faces the prospect of death and killing on the battlefield as impersonal.
Show her her enemy, and they will be that: her enemy.
Thoughts on Orderites:
Laesara is a pure-blooded Orderite. That meant nothing to her mother, but to the Wymrith's, it is a solid part of their identity, and Laesara subscribes to that and, thus, favors her own kind.
However: Lae does not believe that Orderites are better than everybody else. She believes her family is better than everybody else, a distinction she refuses to refute. She has seen Orderites that were noble paragons of light, and Orderites that were bandits and murderers, stains upon the land. Her own family is not pure.
But she loves them, and they are Orderites.
Thoughts on Dovaa:
Laesara finds the Dovaa fascinating: their magic, horns, and scales make them very nearly a work of art.
As of now, though, that is precisely how she thinks of them: art, living art... not people.
Thoughts on Oblivionites:
Laesara knows where she stands on the war, but is surprisingly neutral to Oblivionites as a people. Are they evil? Are they bad? Are they soulless abominations? She doesn't actually care, nor does she believe so. In the end, her enemies are her enemies.
She would not be unwilling to speak with one, or even befriend them. Surely, she feels, if the People of Light have dark and terrible flaws, then the People of Shadows must also have noble and just virtues.
Thoughts on Khehora:
Laesara has very little to think about regarding khehora. She has met few bonded, and fewer ferals, and – other than knowing that they are powerful and intelligent beasts – has fewer thoughts about them.
Thoughts on Hybrids:
Laesara's experience with hybrids has been limited but significant. Though she achknowledges them as a strange sort of 'other', the ones she has met have left a good impression on her, both personality wise and powers wise.
The ones she met were decent people, with abilities that seemed to break the barriers of magic, and she admires and respects them for what they are: powerful allies, or dangerous foes.
Thoughts on the Dragons:
Dragons are ferocious beasts, terrible and predatory, and Laesara would like to meet them only when she is prepared for a fight.
She has no qualms about the idea of killing them: they are feral animals that need to be put down. That they drop souls after their death is a bonus, granting power to its wielder.
What she won't tell anybody is that the thought of fighting such fierce prey is an exciting prospect...
Thoughts on Battle:
Laesara likes to fight: as a creature of two worlds: dignified nobility and wild ferocity, she must feed the one's desire for order and the other's desire for action.
Life as a warrior on the battlefield in an orderly army structure (preferably at a decent to high rank, of course) suits both just fine.
Thoughts on magic:
Laesara has a deep respect and appreciation for magic in general, and feels an innate connection with it. Mages are held in high regard, and this contributes to her fascination with the Dovaa.
Stats
INT: 3
ATK: 4
DEF: 3
