ToC Staff Post -Cert, Link to Official Uncert & Inventory Table of Contents & Rules Basic Info History RP Log Art (Official and Non) Growth Requirements
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As a result of being told what a precious gift she is Silfi has developed a rather thick streak of vanity. She likes to keep up her appearance and has been known to preen under the inevitable compliments. Although the girl knows full well the value of a hard day’s work she’s still rather spoiled in comparison to her siblings and others of the Ild’vann which, more often than not, can lead to arguments with her mother.
Although Silfi isn’t much for physical labor, she has shown promise with her communication skills. She adores talking to the point of annoyance, but over the years she’ll start to develop a taste for turning others words against them. While she’s always the first to start a conversation and certainly the first to make a friend that also makes Silfi the first to make an enemy, and those she’ll never forget.
Over the course of her life Silfi has been bested time and time again by her older siblings to the point she’s sure she isn’t good at anything. In those moments of crisis she’s sure to sulk for a time, but when she’s ready Silfi will pick herself back up and try something they can’t do. She’ll go out of her way to practice on her own just to come back later and absolutely devastate her competition (ex. Training with her practice blades until sunup just to knock Revna on her butt).
History
Silfurvængur is the fourth born child of Zyphire and Sylvirah. She was born during the time her father was away (Sylvirah was expecting when he left for the winter, though neither of her parents knew) and thus, out of guilt, he tended to dote on her more frequently when she was younger.
While tantrums weren’t uncommon during the first few weeks of her father’s departure, Silfi would inevitably pick herself back up and spend her time around family. She loved playing tag with the raptrix pups of the Ild’vann, and of course playing pranks on her older siblings before running away from them (even if she was sometimes caught!) Tensions with Revna were always high since the two were born so close to one another. While she always knew her sister would have her back against bullies, Silfi usually found herself tearing up because of something Revna did to her instead.
Posted: Wed Jan 04, 2023 4:09 pm
RP Log
Youngling [Zena] Secrets Between Sisters - Revna [Zena] Not So Secret Secrets - Fam [Zena] The Grand Tourney - Fam [WE] Crossing Paths - Girls
Prentice [Zena] New Year, New Me - Fam [Zena] Disting - Fam [WE] Stuck in a Storm - Revna [WE] An Honest Accident - Revna
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Posted: Wed Jan 04, 2023 4:10 pm
Art Log
Official
Posted: Wed Jan 04, 2023 4:14 pm
Extended Family
Sylvirah's side Torval - Great-grandfather (NPC) Yngvara - Great-grandmother (NPC / Deceased) Lakiza - Grandmother (NPC / Deceased) Grashni - Grandfather (NPC) Snowelle - Married to Grashni and Mother to Kaygon / Ergon (NPC) Kaygon - Uncle (NPC / Deceased)
Ergon - Uncle Iriyana - Aunt (Married to Ergon) Reaghan - Son of Iriyana and Ergon Eirex - Son of Iriyana and Ergon
Talisia - Cousin Eresin - Married to Talisia Katori - Daughter of Talisia and Eresin Taaru - Son of Talisia and Eresin
Kian - Cousin Rhonann - Wife of Kian Azreal - Son of Kian and Rhonann Kuno - Son of Kian and Rhonann Branna - Son of Kian and Rhonann Teagan - Daughter of Kian and Rhonann
Dris'rynne - Cousin Teslaron - Married to Dris'rynne Talori - Daughter of Teslaron and Step-daughter to Dris'rynne Adenah - Daughter of Dris'rynne Annatha - Daughter of Dris'rynne Mahikel - Son of Dris'rynne and Teslaron Ezrah - Son of Dris'rynne and Teslaron
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Posted: Wed Jan 04, 2023 4:21 pm
Prentice Growth Form
Character Name: Silfi Class Promotion: Peddler [Merchant] Current Location: Zena Journal:x Growth Point Links: [5] New Year, New Me - Fam [5] Disting - Fam [5] Stuck in a Storm - Revna [5] An Honest Accident - Revna [2] Solo Class Affinity/Choice Solo:[3] Growth Blurb: [Tell us how your character has grown this stage!]
Physical Description: Outfit inspo - 1, 2 & 3 With Zenan colors and maybe little moon patterns somewhere?
Her hair is fine as is with maybe an accessory or two weave through the braid
Keeping her piercings mostly as is, but giving her some cute little dangling lobe earrings
Body Type: On the thinner side with more delicate features
Preferred Artists: Any WIPs: Sure!
Posted: Mon Apr 29, 2024 3:36 pm
Class Choice - Merchant
Silfurvængur was both a blessing of a name and a curse. The name meant ‘silver wing’ and was given to the hoary eyed babe upon her birth in the hope that one day she would sail the skies with her ancestors. It was in her blood to survive and each moment – every beat of her heart – was proof of not only her strength but that of her people. Silfurvængur was supposed to have been a powerful warrior indeed, and yet –
-Silfi appeared.
A doe eyed youth who clung to her father’s every word and sobbed when he left. A delicate wisp of a child who would cry the moment she was shoved and take what she wanted without thinking of others. She was scolded often, reprimanded daily, and now that she was nearing adulthood Silfi had to wonder if she was more a disappointment to the Ild’vann than an asset. Relations with her mother were strained. It wasn’t as if Sylvirah loved her any less – the woman cared deeply for her, Silfi knew as much in her core – but Sylvirah was a hard worker. Day in and day out, she was doing something for the village and only when far physically took her away did she stop. So many of the things that her mother and older siblings did were just so far beyond Silfi that she’d turned to other things instead. Passions she could see through and slowly, Silfurvængur became a thing of the past.
Silfi was the face those rare travelers who came to the Ild’vann would see. She was the one most eager to talk to outsiders, who could cajole an eager observer out of buying a few extra leathers and donating a few pints of ale to a ‘homely village’. It wasn’t just her eyes that she’d inherited from her father but his silver tongue as well. And Silfi started to thrive. She took trips to visit her Aunt and Uncle only to leave them behind to explore the city itself. Unlike so many in the Ild’vann, Silfi had a deep love of the city and the rush of life all around them. She spent as much time as she could around the shops, stalls, and booths, just talking with people who didn’t seem annoyed by her presence. Here she wasn’t getting in the way; she wasn’t stepping on toes, stalling progress and no one was commenting on her lack of hunting ability.
Here, Silfi was just Silfi.
And she was happy.
Maybe that’s when the tide started to shift for her. The longer she spent learning from merchants the more confident Silfi became at home and when her mother asked if she’d like to go hunting with her one day she’d very politely – but honestly – declined. It was a changing point for the pair of them – for Sylvirah, whose life revolved around the hunt and for Silfi, who had never cared for it – and while it had been hard to refuse her mother she could have sworn Sylvirah treated her better for it. Her mother looked at her with the same sense of pride she’d shown in her older siblings and maybe it had always been there, just in a way Silfi hadn’t seen, but she could have sworn it wasn’t. That it hadn’t shown up until she established herself as an adult with her own wants and desires.
As Silfi grew she started going out with Grim; a grizzled, stout older man who was as much a tradesmen as she a valiant warrior. He liked the experience, but had never been much for talking – none of the older Ild’vann were – but having Silfi around helped things. It softed the older man, gave him someone to talk to on the long trip into civilization and when they got there her sweet tongue brought buyers around. She loved everything about it. The art of a good haggle, the casual flirting with wealthy rangers looking for good leather, and the sense of worth after a long days work. It wasn’t easy to build up to; she’d come home more times than she’d like with little to show for it and had even been snapped at enough to make her cry but still…she kept going.
Silfurvængur would never be able to help the Ild’vann, but Silfi could. She wasn’t a warrior or a huntress, not a tanner or a blacksmith, but by helping with trade she was making sure that they could thrive. A closed community would eventually be snuffed up – her mother had learned that the hard way – but one with an established trade system….that could live on. And Silfi wanted to be there to help. With any luck Grim would continue to go with her – both as company and as a bodyguard of sorts – and maybe her Uncle would even let her gain some experience by helping around his shop.
That’s if Ergon could stand to be around her. He much preferred Yngvara because she was so much quieter, but Silfi could make him see. He may be her hardest sell, but that was a test in itself, wasn’t it? A worthy trial just to see how far her skills could go. And maybe…just maybe…at some point in the future she would feel a little less guilty for not taking a more ‘traditional’ path and she could feel the same pride in herself that her mother saw.
[901] [3]
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Posted: Mon Apr 29, 2024 5:44 pm
Prentice Solo 1
As the cart rolled on, a noise from overhead caught Silfi’s attention and caused the teenager to look up. A group of five Ild’vann riders flew by on their raptrix, spears at the ready and in a formation she’d been taught over and over again. As they sailed across the vast, open sky and into the southern lands she couldn’t help smiling. What must it have felt like for her parents, to see a tribe that nearly died out rise from the grave? They’d been pulled from the funeral pyre itself and unleashed upon the world. Several of the ratrix flowed between one another, their massive wings becoming little more than a blot against the clouds as they disappeared.
“Buncha kids,” Grim murmured. The grizzled Zenan held the reigns in one large, meaty hand and in the other he held a hunk of bread. Instead of stopping for lunch the pair had agreed to push on, hoping to make it to a safer place to camp as opposed to the open road. Neither were keen on that option, especially after hearing about bandit activity on the main route, and Silfi wasn’t ready to test the daggers she’d gotten during disting this year.
“If you’re jealous you could just say so.” Silfi crooned and playfully bumped against him. The old man grumbled, the bristles of his mustache swaying this way and that over his lip. “Don’t you ever miss flying?”
“No, I don’t.” Something in his tone caused Silfi to pause and her playful attitude slipped a bit. Grim took a deep breath before continuing, “When I was up there, flying about and huntin’, it was cuz I had to. I didn’t have a choice. If we had mounts that weren’t too thin to fly we had to use ‘em.” He shook his head and murmured, “If I have it my way I’ll never fly again.”
It was so easy to forget how much the Ild’vann had struggled in the past. The recent past, at that. Silfi’s generation didn’t have to worry about waking up at night due to hunger or waking to find a family member had frozen during the night. While the tribe was still strict with how they raised their youth it wasn’t so terrible that she wasn’t able to take afternoons to read or even play if she wanted to.
Had Grim ever gotten to do that? To run in the field with his siblings or stack stones in a stream? As far as she knew he had no family in the village – living, breathing kin – and he had the same look in his eye that her mother got sometimes. When she reached over to pat his arm he turned to look at her and shook his head with a little smile.
“You could fly, though. I’m sure you could bond with a raptrix if you tried.” And that was it, wasn’t it? If I tried…“If I learned how to fly then who would keep you company?” There it was again; the guilt. The guilt of taking resources from a community that had come from so little for her own personal gain. Silfi had no need for a mount; they should be given to the hunters, the scouts; anyone other than herself.
So, while she would have loved to be up there, arms stretched to the sky and clouds dancing over her face, Silfi didn’t dare do it. Maybe one day, when she’d established herself as a merchant, then she would get a companion of her own. And until then she was perfectly comfortable here, on the cart with her grizzled friend.
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