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 Posted: Wed Nov 06, 2013 2:15 pm
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Posted: Wed Nov 06, 2013 2:38 pm
The Delicate Flower  Eliza Winfield
Meaning: Her given name means "my god is an oath" and is derived from a Hebrew name. Her surname is derived from the old Sunderlander words for "meadow" and "field".
Nicknames: Lizzy
Proper Address: Miss Winfield
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Appearance: Standing just shy of 5'3", Eliza is a rather diminutive figure. That she is also petite only encourages the illusion of her physical frailty. Certainly, she is dainty, but she is not quite as fragile as she appears. Although it has enough curl to add some texture, her hair is an uninteresting shade of dark, mousy brown. Her eyes are a warm, chocolate brown. Eliza believes that, with a little effort, she can be considered pretty, but never beautiful. Her brows are thin, her nose is a little too small, and her lower lip is a little more full than the upper. Like all proper young ladies, her skin has been carefully protected from the sun and thus remains fair. When in the company of others, there is often a blush on her cheeks.
Designation: Chosen
Guardian: Byron
Companion(s): Heather, Pianissimo
Origin: Eliza is a Sunderlander, born and bred. She spent her summers in Palisade and her winters at her family's manor south of the capitol.
Station: She is the youngest daughter of Baron Winfield.
Spouse: She is affianced to Edgar Ashworth.
Likes: Books - they are her sanctuary from society; they never mock and are a comfort to her in times of need. Her favorite book is History of a Rose by Aubrey St. James, concerning the life of Queen Emelia and her lover, Lord Basil Saye. Music - to her, it is beauty given form; it is her truest form of expression.
Dislikes: Attention - though she was trained to function in society, any attention directed at her, as the unremarkable youngest daughter of a baron, was rarely an enjoyable experience.
History:
Born to Lord and Lady Winfield, Eliza grew up in the pleasant, rolling country in the heart of Sunderland. As the youngest of their children, she was left first to the care of the nurse, and then given over to the governess, who left her much to her own devices. It was not that Eliza was a poor student – to the contrary, she took to her learning well, both in intellectual studies and in the genteel arts. However, her elder sisters were more highly strung than Eliza and kept the governess quite busy. Thus, Eliza continued on largely on her own, the written word her only constant companion.
It was during these years that she discovered her talent with the pianoforte. While books offered sanctuary, music offered her a form of expression – something that she was otherwise uncomfortable with. People, you see, were never her strong point.
The family traveled between their home in the winter and their residence in Palisade during the summer social season. Like her sisters, Eliza was prettied up and sent to luncheons and afternoon tea and parties throughout the town. However, while her sisters giggled and gossiped and flirted, Eliza tried her best to remain invisible. Manners were instilled in her, of course, but she knew that her position was quite low and that she would be considered lucky to find herself wed within the peerage and would not be surprised to find herself wed to a member of the gentry. This hardly helped her natural shyness – which had only been encouraged by being largely ignored as a child. When people actually paid her any attention, she could not help but feel that they were judging her in some way.
Judging her and finding her wanting.
She carried on this way for a time, but it was not so very long before her father informed her that he had arranged a suitable match. He was a proud man, Lord Winfield, so he had done his best to secure even the youngest of his daughters a match within the peerage. What he found was not an established family – indeed, Lord Ashworth had been granted his title, and his heir, Eliza’s new fiancé, was the first born to it – but it was better than lowering the family name to join the gentry. She could only hope he proved to be kind.
It was not so very long after she met Edgar Ashworth and his wonderful Guardian - one which made even her gentle heart stir with envy for a few moments - that Eliza felt the pull herself. The need to venture forth and find her one true companion. She was terrified, of course, but she soon returned with her very own totem, and what a fine looking thing it was. Oh, yes. Eliza was certain that she would very soon have a Dardanos of her own - a kind, stalwart Guardian to protect and sooth her.
Oh, how mightily high expectations fall.
About:
Perhaps her most defining characteristic is her shyness. Eliza is very nervous when she has to socialize with unfamiliar people and is quite prone to blushing. Occasionally, she will even stammer, but that is more liable to happen with her father than with anyone else. Next, and most easily observed when she is in the company of animals or small children, is her gentleness. If she were not born to the peerage, Eliza may well have been a healer or nursemaid. When she is not so nervous herself, she is capable of putting anyone at ease. Her heart is genuinely kind and her spirit generous. It is her insecurities and low self-esteem that really hold her back from making the most of herself.
Despite her lack of confidence and considerable bashfulness, Eliza has a passionate heart and a core of steel. Enough to see her through the years to come. Thus far, however, she has had no cause to use them. There is no telling how long it may be before she discovers them.
Important People:
• Edgar Ashworth: Though she has only just met him, this man is her fiancé. Though his resemblance to Lord Ashworth is thankfully weak, she is not at all certain of their relationship. Of a certainty, Edgar did not seem pleased to know her. Does he hate her, after all?
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Posted: Wed Nov 06, 2013 2:44 pm
The Guardian
 Byron
Meaning: He is named for Lord Byron, the renowned Romantic poet.
Nicknames: n/a
Gender: Male
Stage: Totem
Appearance: His coat is pale grey with mauve antlers and forelegs. He boasts intricate, white scroll-work markings. His eyes are a startling red, and he wears a lovely mask.
Chosen: Eliza Winfield
Mate: None
Obtained: Concept Contest, Valentine's Event, 2013. (Sweetheart Buck)
About:
Ruled by his passions and prone to fits of fancy, Byron is a most tempestuous buck. One would be hard-pressed to find a more vivacious individual, one whose very spirit seems to fill the room. Such is his nature that this buck tends to make as many enemies as friends; and he is as quick to brawl as he is to embark on passionate quests of romance. Life is never dull when he is around. Although his wide-ranging emotions and strong will make him nigh impossible to temper, he is not so bad a sort. Indeed, this high-spirited male adores love above all else, be it the fraternal attachment between friends or love of a more romantic variety. Though not precisely harmless and certainly not level-headed, Byron is not at all malicious. Everything he does, he does for those who have won his loyalty, even if only for a time. Simply put, he has the soul of a fickle poet.
Dreaming:
Important People:
•
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Posted: Wed Nov 06, 2013 2:55 pm
The Choosing
 It was not so uncommon a thing for Eliza to find herself day-dreaming of having a Guardian. Oh, she had no grand ambitions of becoming a Warden and fighting in the war. Heavens no. That would be far too frightful. She was, after all, a lady - not at all suited to such violence. However, after reading so much about the Wardens of old and after meeting Dardanos, how could the lonely, shy young woman not dream of an unwavering companion? Someone whose heart was shared with her own? Someone she could trust and confide in above all? Truly, there was no wish dearer to her heart than this.
It should not be surprising, then, to find her longing growing each day until it consumed even her sleeping hours. Nor should it be surprising that her preoccupation - though mostly unnoticed by others - was not even properly understood by Eliza. She thought her longing a mere fancy, not the call of a true Guardian. Imagine her terror when her feet moved themselves out the door in the dead of night. No matter how she tried to turn back, she could not seem to stop herself. If it was not the rationalization of her actions, then it was the sheer, physical incapability of doing so.
But the night was cold. So very cold. The wind bit into her tender flesh and snow coated her clothes. She was not at all dressed for the occasion, but neither could she stop. Certain she would freeze, Eliza stumbled along. What was this devilry? Had some evil spirit cast his spell upon her? But to what end?
Her sense of time was muddled, but her fingers were all but numb by the time her unrelenting compulsion had forced her path well onto the southerly portion of the Kingsroad. It was there that she crossed paths for the first time with another person. They would not have made much of an impression on her were it not for the fact that they paused a moment to stare at her, then dug in their pack a moment before producing a blanket. Then, swiftly enough, they settled the blanket over Eliza's shoulders and pulled a portion up over her head like a cloak, fastening the front with a simple metal pin.
If she were more herself, Eliza would have blushed or thanked them - though if she were more herself, she would not be out in the first place. As it was, she could only huddle deeper into the makeshift cloak and stumble onward. Her silence did not seem to bother the stranger overmuch, however, since all they said was, "Peace be with you, little Warden." And then, they were gone.
...little Warden?
It was then that Eliza's befuddlement turned to shocked realization. Warden. Guardians. The Choosing. But no! This was not what it was supposed to be like! It was supposed to be a gentle thing, a quiet tug to let you know there was a Guardian waiting for you. It wasn't supposed to be this - this body-snatching drive.
Yet there she was, headed south for no fathomable reason save the Ward Tree's demand. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that there was truly nothing else it could be. The signs her been there all along - they were just lost amidst her fantasies. Oh, she had wanted to be Chosen, all right. But not like this! This wasn't a fairy tale. It was a nightmare. Oh! How many times had she heard her mother caution her sisters abut their desires - for they just might come true.
It would have been better, she thought, to have been possessed by the madness. At least then she would not be aware of her own inability to control herself. As she walked inexorably on, tears streamed down her face.
* * *
Though she would later hear that some Chosen lost all sense of time when venturing forth to claim their totem, this was not so for Eliza. Denied even that bit of comfort - however disorienting it may later be - she was quite lucid. It had taken her all of that night and half of the next day before the compulsion forced her from the road. From there, the going was more difficult.
The winter's snows - unusually heavy for Sunderland - were piled high and unbroken across the countryside. Occasionally, she would find herself on what must be animal trails, or even the odd human-made path, but either way, it was not a pleasant journey. It was well into the night when she first spotted the Wardwood. A great, hungry shadow looming in the distance, there was nothing else it could possibly be.
It was not a reassuring sight.
When she forced her way into the ancient thing, she found that the snow was not as thick on the ground. However, the tangles of roots were wont to grab hold of her feet and make her fall on more than a few occasions. If that were not enough, the Wood seemed bent on scaring the last of her senses out of her. The air was oddly muffled, yet she could hear things stirring the branches and swore she saw shadows move and the flat gleam of eyes staring at her through the dark.
By the time she reached the Ward Tree itself, Eliza had gone well past fear and reached the point of numbness. As such, it took a full minute for the sight before her to sink in. It took her another minute after that to realize that her feet had stopped moving. Heart wavering, it took all her willpower not to drop to her knees and break down. But she steadied herself. If she had made it this far, she might as well finish it before she lost all nerve.
Squaring her shoulders, she marched across the faint dusting of snow that had managed to insert itself under the massive boughs and circled 'round until that little tug - oh, it was being demure enough now - pointed her toward the a pale totem hanging on a cockeyed little branch pointed toward the ground as though he could not wait to run off and make himself known to the world. Hand shaking, Eliza reached out...and snatched her hand back.
Did she really want this? Was she truly ready for this? But then...what choice did she have? Even if she could leave, would the Tree not summon her back again? Even if it did not, how would she escape the Wood on her own? Not that a totem would be of much use, but she figured that its magic might somehow guide her to safety. Clutching one hand to her chest, she reached out once more. She had no more touched the totem with the tip of her finger before it fell off into her hand. Oh, he was ready to face the world, alright. But what about her?
Finally, finally, Eliza allowed herself to give in. Legs shaking, she collapsed to the ground, where she curled into a ball and sobbed, the little totem biting into her fist. There was no comfort for her here. Only a painful culmination of fear and self-loathing.
Though she knew, logically, that she could not stay there and wallow in her self-pity forever - if she stayed too much longer, she was liable to freeze - she could not bring herself to move. Eventually, she managed to uncurl enough to to stare, bleary-eyed, at the little thing that had caused her so much grief in so short a time. Though little was a relative term. The totem did not fit fully in her hand, but Eliza figured that was because she herself was so tiny. The totem was probably perfectly normal.
She would make a terrible Chosen. She was sure of it. Oh, it was perfectly within her ability to raise a little thing to adulthood, but then what? He would be always protecting her, and she would be perfectly useless to him. Maybe he would even go find a partner better suited to him, leaving her with only the broken pieces of her heart. But what argument could she give? She was, after all, only plain little Eliza; boring, bookish Eliza; Eliza who was more at home with music and small animals than people. Why would this fine, handsome thing Choose her in the first place? It wasn't like she was anything special. He would be better off with someone else.
Still, she could not bring herself to throw him away. He deserved better than that, even if he did deserve better than her. With a final, shuddering sigh, she managed to get herself into an upright position. Maybe he wouldn't mind that she was useless. Maybe he didn't care about fighting, either. Maybe he just wanted a nice, quiet life. After all, didn't Guradians deserve that chance, too?
Whatever the case, she could hardly leave him here, orphaned and alone. There was really no choice but to bring him with her - or perhaps saying that she was going with him would be more accurate. Regardless, she tucked him in her pocket and dragged herself to her feet, intent on getting away from this terrible place as quickly as possible. Though she hoped she would be able to wake up at home with this all having been some terrible nightmare, Eliza knew deep down that this was only the beginning. If the future looked anything like what she had experienced so far, she dreaded to think what it could have in store for her.
Clutching her makeshift cloak, she huddled in on herself and started away.
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Posted: Wed Nov 06, 2013 3:00 pm
The Companion  Heather
Meaning: She is named for the sweet plant.
Nicknames: n/a
Gender: Female
Age: Adult
Appearance: She is white with a brown splotch on her right forefoot and left eye. Her nose and eyes have hints of pink. Her eyes are green.
Mate: None
Obtained: Spring Event, 2013
History:
Though her older, more important siblings took up much of her parents' time, Eliza's mother still loved her youngest dearly. As such, she purchased a young rabbit from market and gave her to Eliza as a birthday gift. Little did she know that this rabbit was born of the Wood - a larger, more intelligent creature than most. Still, the rabbit was innocent enough, and she did so please Lizzy. Thus, Heather became a permanent member of the household.
About:
A sweet creature, Heather is a suitable companion for her mistress. She is gentle and affectionate, though perhaps a bit more friendly and outgoing than might always make Eliza comfortable - even if it is one of her favorite things about her.
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Posted: Wed Nov 06, 2013 3:07 pm
The Unexpected Gift  Pianissimo
Meaning: He is named for the musical term, meaning "very soft".
Nicknames: Issie
Gender: Male
Age: Adult
Appearance: He has pale, golden fur and dark brown eyes.
Obtained: Solstice Grams, 2013
History:
As such things were almost obligatory, Eliza was not terribly shocked when she received a Solstice Pudding from Mister Ashworth. He was, after all, her fiance - whether either of them were particularly pleased about it or not. There were certain images to maintain. Experiencing a sudden loss of appetite, Eliza left her little treat untouched and went to bed.
The next morning she awoke to find that a berry had gone missing. Or at least, she thought it had. Did not that indentation in the icing look as though a berry was once there? Puzzled, she decided to leave it sit, untouched once more, for another night. Somehow, another berry was gone come morning. Oh, she was certain of it this time. There was no mistake.
Only imagine her surprise when, upon the third morn, Eliza caught a little mouse making off with a third berry! Well. There was only one thing to do about that. On the fourth morn, she rose early and coaxed the little thing out with the final berry, pleased to find that the handsome golden mouse was not so timid as to flee from her, not even after absconding with all of the berries on her pudding. Instead, he seemed pleased enough to make friends with her and soon enough came fearlessly to her without bribery of berries.
Heather, for her part, did not seem to mind this little addition to their home. He was unassuming enough, and she was a friendly rabbit anyway.
About:
As his name suggests, Pianissimo is a quiet, unassuming thing. He has no qualms about hiding from Eliza's family, though neither would be be adverse to poking his nose out and saying hello to someone new if they seemed kind enough.
Like most of his kind, he takes well to learning new things. Eliza whiled away much of her time amusing both herself and Issie by teaching him several little tricks. He learned them quickly and does not seem to mind performing them when asked.
If one were to look at him closely, they might note that his gleaming fur clearly belongs to a kept mouse rather than a wild one. Unlike most animals, he enjoys his baths.
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Posted: Sun Dec 29, 2013 10:04 am
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