Name: Evelyn Keove 

Age: 41 (appears young 20's)

Gender: Female

Race: Eruikan Wood Elf

Weapons:
--An elvish sword at the side of her hip, an ornate conduit of magic, the blade is able to adapt and take on characteristics of any type of destructive magic the wielder so chooses.  

Equipment:
--Black and embroidered gold mage robes fitted to compliment the body. It also comes with three fashionable layers of hoods. She typically wears two out of the three. 
--Leather belt with pouches. 
--Black slippers. 

Inventory:
--Ring of keys. 
--Leather notebook.

Appearance: 
Evelyn didn't take on any characteristics of her human mother. She looks elf, through and through. Her hair is a feathery silver, parted at the side. She layers it short, ends barely meeting her collar bone. Grey eyes, pointed ears, smooth and pale skin. Her smile can light up a room. Elves don't need a lot of muscle to be powerful, such a Evelyn's case. She's slender, maybe a bit short for an elf. There are old scars on her wrists, reminding her of times she drowned in her sadness. 

Background:
Born to an elven father and human mother, Evelyn started life in strange circumstances. Magic had brought her parents together, and they abandoned their old lives in the name of love. Marriage between races wasn't common at all, and the townsfolk loved to talk. Their family didn't venture out much until Evelyn's mother passed away from sickness. To lighten the grieving heart of his daughter, Ilrune showed her his old books of lost treasures deep underground, of legendary creatures across the sea, and the history of Ravenfell. He gave his private collection of spell books, teaching her how to read it once, and remember it forever in a Mind Palace. After a taste of knowledge, Evelyn knew she couldn't stop there.

As soon as she could, Evelyn traveled abroad, searching for the secrets of the land. Money ran thin, so she turned to the Thieves Guilds hidden among the sewers of Ravenfell's great kingdoms. They taught her how to blend in, how to wield blades, how to speak. In return, she completed the jobs they offered. 

The first time she killed someone, it was simply a case of 'wrong place, wrong time'. A vat of mead needed to be poisoned before the town officials arrived. The plan was to put the meadery out of business so another company could gain profit from the monopoly. Evelyn had successfully snuck in, poisoned the tank, and was about to leave when the owner himself came down the steps. Before he could call the guards, she incinerated him on the spot. It was the first time she ever set fire to a living being with magic. The rush was intoxicating, but seeing the charred remains of his body made her vomit. 

Seeking a better life and a more permanent home, Evelyn ventured to Arthroyeaux. The Court Mage had recently passed away, and she leapt at the opportunity. She requested an audience, and was soon before the King and his court. Evelyn claimed she was a noble who had traveled great lengths to serve His Majesty, and she told him of her heroic tales in magic, war, legends and ancient relics. 

Ten years after the passing of the Queen, King Vertreaux made Evelyn his new Court Mage, and she served happily until he too, passed away. Somehow, along the way, another one of the nobles of the court found out Evelyn's true past. They blackmailed her  into working strings of the crime empire in Arthroyeaux, and she was right back in her old life of deceit and underground power-struggles. She didn't loathe this turn of events -- she missed it. The thrill of inspiring fear in those who would cut into the kingdom's profit  was something she loved terribly. Destroying the lives of strangers, however, sank heavy in her mind. She rationalized that her actions helped His Majesty. Of course, if he ever knew her treachery she'd be hanged. 

At the change of Kings, Evelyn had her hand in who was chosen next, bribing individuals of the court for their cooperation. When the former King wrote his will, she advised on DuRant, saying he'd lead the people right. Her true reasons she kept to herself. It had taken her a while to unravel this secret -- the noble who blackmailed her wanted DuRant in by any means. He was close associates with someone, and it was they who found the information of her past. She had yet to identify the true mastermind, but it would only be a matter of time. 

When the court was reformed, Evelyn was one of the few who stayed, not just by coincidence. 

Personality: It depends on who you are. Evelyn's personality is very diversified given the different types of people she may or may not be inspiring fear in. Typically she can't contain her excitement on new secrets, and she's a lover of beauty. In the King's court, she is graceful in her words, modest, and the face of loyalty to her King. In the city's underground, her demeanor does a 180 degree spin. She's cunning, persuasive, intimidating. And after the day's sins are counted up, Evelyn sits by herself at the edge of her bed, feeling her heart die. Not that elves really sleep, anyway. 

Job: Court Mage, Advisor 

Skills:
--Magic (Destruction and Restoration she's an expert, knows a few spells of the other classes.) 
--Knowledge (Has a Mind Palace, a visual database of information in her head.) 
--Swordplay 

Traits:
--Keen senses.
--Less sleep needed.
--Elven stamina.

Magic:

Destruction:
--Firebolt
--Flames 
--Chain Lightning 
--Sparks (Can induce temporary paralysis.)
--Ice Spikes
--Frost

Restoration:
--Healing Hands
--Lesser Ward
--

Mysticism:
--Clairvoyance (Can find anyone.)
--

Alteration:
--Candlelight

[Plus other menial spells.]

Talent: 
Silver Tongue -- With a voice as sweet as hers, persuading people to do what she wants comes easy. 

Strengths: Evelyn feels secure when she's aware of everything going on in the kingdom. Knowledge is her high, and she'll go to great lengths to uncover a secret. Legend and lore is like candy. Magic is her edge in a battle, and feels that's one of her largest strengths. 

Weaknesses: She loves feeling powerful, and sometimes her arrogance can be her downfall. She also dislikes unpredictability, and easily panics when things aren't going as planned. The biggest mystery is how tied to the crime empire Evelyn is, and how much it keeps her up at night. 

Theme:
My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark -- Fall Out Boys
(Correlations: 'my songs know' means 'my theives told me', 'light 'em up' is her magic's destruction)

Quote: "The thieves are my eyes, the beggars my ears. Mouths open with a little coin. Nothing goes on in this city without my knowing." 

There are 12 Months named in honour of the Primordial Dragon-Gods (excluding Urgash) and all of the Original Divines.

The First Month is Sun's Rise
The Second Month is Weeping Moon
The Third Month is Star Fire
The Fourth Month is Dawn's Light
The Fifth Month is Shadow's Rest
The Sixth Month is Fire's Fade
The Seventh Month is Frost Fall
The Eighth Month is Winter's Grace
The Ninth Month is Nature's Awakening
The Tenth Month is Spring's Penance
The Eleventh Month is Dusk's Forgiveness
The Twelfth Month is Sun's Fall

There is rumoured to be a Thirteenth Month in honour of Urgash, celebrated by the demon cultists, named Bloodfernal.

There are also Seven Days in each week.

The First Day is Morndas
The Second Day is Tirdas
The Third Day is Middas
The Fourth Day is Turdas
The Fifth Day is Fredas
The Sixth Day is Loredas
The Seventh Day is Sundas.

In total, the Eyresielic Calender holds 365 days in a single year.

Name:
Phillip Agravaine
Age:
44
Gender:
Male
Race:
Ravenfellan Breton

Weapons:
Phillip wields an ornate appearing yet balanced and strong cross sword of natural length, this sword was given to Phillip as a sign of office, to officiate his place as Baron. It bears noble inscriptions over the flat of the blade that recognize Phillip as Baron. Whenever he rides into battle, Phillip readies a balanced lance of reinforced spruce tipped with steel, and uses it to spear any unfortunate enemies or unhorse opposing riders that he comes across.
Equipment:
In court, he wears Bretonian Noble Garments, along with his noble signet ring. He also wears an Amulet of the Divine-Stendarr. If it gets cold, he usually dons a fur-trimmed cloak with hood to keep the frost out.
Out on the field, he dons his Steel Gothic Full Plate Armour with heraldic tabard, a Full Helmet with liftable face visor and plume. His Steel Kite Shield is usually clasped to his arm. He often rides his covered warhorse, Bristelle, when out in the field.
Inventory:
He carries his diary, a purse of gold coins, healing tinctures, and keeps select medicines and other supplies in his warhorse's saddlebags.

Appearance:
Phillip is an older man now, but that has not changed his resolve and endurance. He is still as fit and able as the day he joined the Chevaliers, and only looks like an older version of the young man from back then. He has olive skin that is battle-tested in complexion, with a few scars here and there from battles past. His eyes are the colour of hazel, and his chestnut hair is a tousled yet clean mess on his head. He sports a tidy short beard covering his chin and between his lips and nose.

In court, Phillip wears the garments of a Bretonian Nobleman, made from the finest blue silk and trimmed with white fabric. His winter cloak is trimmed with white fur and made from warming blue cloth. His signet ring bore the seal of his noble family.

His Steel Gothic Plate Armour was smithed by the royal smithy of Arthroyeaux with magnificent intricacies and shining plates, coated with a tabard that was sewn with Phillip's noble colours and heraldry. So too did his Steel Kite Shield, crafted to perfection, bear his coat of arms upon the surface to let all who witness him know of his nobility. His helmet is a knightly full helmet with blue plume donning the head. Even his warhorse, Bristelle, is coated with chain and a tabard that proclaims his noble heraldry once more, just so that even the basest man knew who it was they faced if it ever came to it.

Background:
Phillip was the only son of a farmer who lived in the outlying countryside of Arthroyeaux, on an apple orchard a small distance away from the nearest village. He grew up knowing nothing more than the farmer's tools he used to help his father tend to the fields and the hunting bow he wielded to hunt game in the summer months. His family lived on a modest income from selling their surplus to be taken to market. It was a calm and peaceful life, and Phillip was all the more happier with it. He would have been content to live the rest of his days as his parents did.

It was not to be, however. When Phillip was 17, he was conscripted by the local Baron into a militia army. Phillip remembered it vividly, as the last thing he saw of his parents were their sad and tear-stained faces as he was taken from the life he had always known, and soon the hunting bow he held was replaced with a sword. Phillip was trained for a year and then stationed amongst a rabble of men who had been taken for the same reason.

For war.

Vertreaux DuFairre had ascended to the throne, at the age of 20, just weeks before Phillip was conscripted, and the Court Royale of Ravenfell was in dispute over his adequacy to rule. Vertreaux's first challenge was to quell the conflict that had then become civil war.

When he was trained and at the age of 18, Phillip marched under the banner of Baron Robert Rothwell, one of the many barons of Ravenfell who opposed the young king. The militia army marched upon Arthroyeaux and converged with two other rebellious barons and their own armies. They then proceeded to directly lay siege to Arthroyeaux. However, rather than wait for the rest of the barons, they rushed in as soon as they had siege equipment prepared. If they had waited, they may have actually overthrown Vertreaux and cast out his supporters.

Vertreaux was no fool, and had called upon his father's loyal friends amongst the barons to garrison their armies in Arthroyeaux, and made sure to evacuate any citizens from the outer town across the river. It soon became a bloody battleground as trained troops battled trained militia, and soon the rebellious barons realized their loss. Without any regard for their men, they fled with only their elite troops, leaving the militia to either die or be captured.

Phillip was one of the many who were captured by the king's entourage. They were imprisoned in the prison tower of Arthroyeaux, and there Phillip remained in fear of what was to happen then. Thoughts went through his mind as he began to wonder if the king decided he and the other militia men deserved to be executed, for the treason of rebellious barons who cared little for their own men.

However, the militia men were given a chance, recruited into Vertreaux's own growing ranks. Vertreaux was one of the few militia who were bestowed the honour of joining the ranks of the Chevaliers. Phillip didn't know it then, but Vertreaux had seen in him a potential, like other militia men with him, than any baron would ever possess.

And he was right.

Phillip often wondered why he chose to accept when he was also given the chance to freedom, to return to his old life. He tells himself that it was really a lack of choice, where he saw no way the civil war would end soon with him simply lying down low. War would come, and destroy whatever else he had left. It was also at that point that Phillip spent one night in the palace chapel praying before he would take up the chivalric sword. He prayed that Divines would keep his parents safe, that Stendarr would offer mercy to them, and left that night with all his hopes locked away in an amulet of the God of Mercy given to him by one of the chapel priests.

He never saw his parents alive again.

It was then he developed a resolve, a determination to train his hardest, to continually strengthen and hone his skills in battle to become the best the Chevaliers had to offer their king. It took two years of dark bruises and harsh yells, but soon enough Phillip demonstrated that he was indeed the best the Chevaliers had to offer.

Vertreaux was pleased to see his pre-judgement of Phillip was perfectly fulfilled. There was no doubt in his mind that Phillip was the right man for the job. He appointed Phillip as commander of the Chevalier Bannerets, the Elite Bodyguard and Fist of the King, and gifted him the warhorse Bristelle.

When he was 20, Phillip honourably led the Chevalier Bannerets to victory in Vertreaux's name across many skirmishes through time, quelling rebel armies where ever they could find them with swift and subtle force, and at one point he served his vengeance upon an old face, the Baron Rothwell. It was a rainy day on the fields near Marceilles, when Phillip had challenged the Baron to a single pass of jousting before a duel. Unwilling to look weak to his troops, the baron accepted the challenge begrudgingly, to fight the militia man he once conscripted who rode before him in shining armour at that moment.

Fortune favoured Agravaine's lance, as he unhorsed the baron with swift movement, and dismounted as the Chevalier Bannerets and the rest of the royal army watched and cheered him on. He drew his blade and waited as the baron rose to his feet, with a muddied visor to conceal the rage he felt. Rothwell wiped away the mud angrily as he drew his own sword. The man refused to be beaten by a peasant in knightly arms. The two engaged in plain sight of both opposing sides, passing each other in their duel to bring one another down to the kneel of surrender. The baron fought with a fierce determination to defend his honour and denounce the champion of the king.

However, it was not enough to best Phillip. With a swift flick of his blade, he had disarmed the baron and held the point at his neck, staring into the baron's eyes with only one message conveyed in a silent moment as the rain poured around them.

The baron gritted his teeth behind the obscuring visor, but honour forced him to submit. His army followed suit and surrendered, and that day Marceilles fell under Phillip's command without a single drop of blood being shed.

Agravaine was soon nicknamed "The Lance Commander" because of his undeniable talent with the lance. He would lead the charge through the enemy with a fearless vigour that inspired all the other Chevalier Bannerets. But it was the sight of Phillip soaring at times through the battlefield that truly struck fear into the hearts of the enemy and emboldened the hearts of his comrades.

Eventually, after 4 years, the war was won and the Court Royale was reformed. The barons who refused to desist and swear fealty once more to their sovereign were stripped of all their noble titles and possessions, and either exiled or, worse, executed. Thereafter, Vertreaux appointed new barons from his circle of trusted supporters and friends, a fair few selected from the ranks Chevalier Bannerets. Phillip Agravaine was one of those few. The new barons replaced the ones who had departed, settlements, castles and lands reassigned to the deserving, and the Court Royale was once more populated with occupied seats. Phillip himself replaced Baron Rothwell, taking control of Marceilles. He also soon became a close confidant of the King, and was often seen at his side.

After the war, Phillip returned to Marceilles, now under his rule, and married the love of his life, dame Celeste Marion, after years of courting between battles. In their union, the two had only one son, however, as Celeste died during childbirth. Phillip was stricken with grief, but seeing Celeste's eyes when he looked upon his son helped Phillip overcome his grief and sorrow. He named his son Anton.

The years went by as Phillip took care of his only son with the utmost love and attention that he could give when he wasn't out on the field or visiting the royal courts of Arthroyeaux. He ensured his son had the best care and education growing up, and plenty of immersion with other children, noble or not. Often between school semesters, Phillip would take Anton to the Summer Palace of Marceilles, a small manor estate located in an apple orchard next to a village overlooking the city. They would spend those two weeks together gleefully playing hide-and-seek amongst the apple trees or within the large manor house, and spend nights eating dinner by the fireplace with no troubles in the world. The both of them enjoyed every moment of the summer holidays they spent at the Summer Palace.

Time went on, as Anton grew up in the world that Phillip had carefully maintained for him. It was a peaceful world, free of conflict that Anton only knew through war stories his father told him, particularly the Duel d'Marceilles when Phillip had fought the Baron Rothwell that day.

Eventually, Anton grew older, and wished to become a scholar. When Anton was of an acceptable age, Phillip took Anton with him to Arthroyeaux begrudgingly to allow Anton access to the Great Library of Arthroyeaux, and the archives of Arthroyeaux Palace. Phillip ended up making as many excuses as he could to remain by his son's side, hoping to keep his son far from the field of Bretonian Politics.

However, one day, his excuses would not hold. Phillip was dragged away from his son by matters of importance, and the last thing he heard his son say was, "I'll be fine, father". It was not to be. Anton was conscripted into the ranks of the Chevaliers when Phillip next checked, and he was angry with Vertreaux. However, the king reassured Phillip that it was not his decision, and that he was working on appealing against Anton's conscription.

Weeks passed however, and when Phillip next checked, the king had only solemn news. There had never been a greater emptiness to Phillip than the one he now felt in his heart. Anton was killed when the Chevaliers lead a raid on a bandit camp. That night when Phillip stood in the palace chapel for the second time in his life, praying for mercy. But he had already realized the God of Mercy could not be merciful over those who were dead. That night, he was not praying for anyone else he loved, but instead he prayed for mercy on his soul. He had the blade raised and ready at his neck, ready to draw blood on the alter of mercy. But he still wore the amulet of Stendarr, and the chain caught on his blade before the edge even touched his neck. He breathed in for a moment, and began to weep.

He reformed his resolve, and once again prayed for someone other than himself. He prayed for Stendarr to have mercy on his son's killer, and swore an oath of vengeance. Phillip swore to the Divines that he would find his son's murderer, and make him pay for his crime.

Two years had passed. Anton would have been 19 to the present day. The news of the king and his heir's death travelled fast to the barons of the land, as did the news of Baron DuRant's ascension to the throne. However, Phillip looks on with wary eyes and watches in waiting, knowing that all is rotten in the court of Arthroyeaux.
Personality:
Phillip used to be so cheerful from the days of childhood through to the days of baronhood. But ever since the day he buried his son, Phillip realized that his family was his only happiness, and they were all taken from him. However, his demeanour is not bitter or scornful of anyone who does not deserve it, and he still holds a respectful and honourable approach to others. He is rational and calculating, which is the reason he remains alive in the world of Bretonian politics. Phillip always has a structured plan for situations as they come, and can remain shockingly calm when things go wrong. Whether it is, once again, his welcoming of death or being used to plans taking a turn in the past, he maintains a cool attitude towards normally panic-inspiring news or information.

Job:
Baron
Skills:
Jousting - Phillip has been trained in the knightly art of jousting, and has more than mastered unhorsing mounted opponents.
Swordplay - Phillip has been trained in a knightly form of swordplay, using sword and shield in battle to masterful extent.
Blocking - Time has little dulled Phillip's reaction time, and he still raises his shield almost as fast as he did when he was Chevalier Banneret.
Disarmament - He is also capable of easily disarming an opponent's sword with the right movement at a time when his enemy is dazed or fatigued.
Pacing - A decade's worth of training and conditioning has taught Phillip that despite being able to hold himself in a fight for long periods of time already, he can pace himself to last a little longer still.
Duelling - Phillip was taught chivalry, and the conventions of duelling honourably, yet skilfully. He is battle-tested and shown to be the better when engaging a single foe one-on-one.
Horse Riding - All Chevaliers are taught the basics and advanced aspects that there are to learn about riding horse into battle.
Traits:
Fearless - Whether it is possessing nothing else to lose or a death wish that compels him, Phillip goes into any situation without fear in the face of even death.
True Leader - Phillip possesses a strength in character that makes him a true leader of men at arms, commanding the loyalty of men who are willing to follow him to the ends of Eyreseum.
Enduring / Veteran Warrior - Phillip has faced many battles, and he will face many more yet. The scars of battles past he still bears are testimony to this man's un-killable nature.
Champion - Phillip is an inspiration to others, and is well known for his skills in battle.
Magic:
N/A
Talent:
The Lance Commander - Phillip rides his warhorse with fearless vigour and terrifying speed. Anyone who rides alongside him are inspired by his courage and commanding superiority upon the field.

Strengths:
Phillip fights just like the man who has nothing left to lose, until either he is taken or his vengeance is sated. Any foe who comes between him and his oath are only doomed to fall.
Weaknesses:
Phillip apparently has no weaknesses as he fears nothing else in life and welcomes death, but that in reality may be his weakness.

Quote:
"Death is nothing but an old friend of mine that will visit once more with only open arms for me."
Theme:
N/A

Name:
Mirabelle Valois
Age:
18
Gender:
Female
Race:
Ravenfell Breton

Weapons:
Mirabelle wields a Nightingale Blade and Nightingale Bow when she is expecting to battle or when she is out on a mission, using blackfeather shadowsteel tipped beak arrows which identify her kills as that of a Nightingale.
Equipment:
In court, Mirabelle wears Bretonian Noblewoman Garments made of fine silk and embroidery. When she is setting out as a Nightingale, she wears the standard Nightingale Garb of black featherscale armour which covers her from head to face to toe, with a shadowsilk cloak clasped around her neck.
Inventory:
Mirabelle carries little around in court spare her lute. When she departs as a Nightingale, she carries an assortment of potions and poisons, as well as bottled smoke and lockpicks, which are all contained on black leather bandolier she wears slung over her shoulder under her cloak, which also holds her quiver of arrows.

Appearance:
Mirabelle is a fairest maiden that few others can rival in beauty, as her soft, curly chestnut hair flows down to her shoulders, and her contrasting eyes are the colour of emeralds that stand out upon her fair to pale skin. She stands no taller than man, and is the average height for a woman. He figure is slender and without marks or scars, and thus does justice to the claims of her pristine appearance.

Her courtly clothing consists of Bretonian Noblewoman Garments made from soft leafgreen silk, embroidered with gold and patterned with yellow leaves and wildflowers upon her torso down to her rippling gown. Her feet are covered with soft satin shoes that match her dress. At times, she ties back her hair into a pony tail that trails down her back. She always keeps at her side her Nightingale Blade within its sheath, disguised as an ordinary Steel Shortsword through Illusion.

When she ventures into the night, she dons the Nightingale Garb, boots, gloves, tights, cuirass and mask of finest black featherscale craftsmanship, always made complete by the black shadowsilk hooded cloak she sweeps over her shoulder and casts over her head. At this time, her illusion over her blade dispels as she slings her Nightingale Bow over her shoulder, revealing itself to be Shadowsteel of the finest make. Beneath her cloak, her bandolier contains bottled smoke and poisons, while the frontside holds her potions and lockpicks. Just above her waist, her quiver is secured close to the bandolier to allow her to draw her arrows with her right hand.

Background:
A young baby girl was left at the doorstep of a wealthy noblewoman in Greymont. The symbol of a Nightingale was engraved on the door to represent the family DuBois. As for the noblewoman who took in the baby, she was Rayline DuBois.

Rayline had kept the nametag of the baby girl, and gave her no name. Instead, she had been brought up knowing only nouns and Rayline's voice as her devices of attention. She was raised in secrecy behind the closed doors of DuBois Manor, knowing the outside as only the rose garden her foster mother tended and only what she saw beyond the black iron fence that surrounded the estate. She was homeschooled every day of her life she could have been sent to a school nearby, and often she wondered what it was like to speak with someone other than her mother and the servants.

Even then, Rayline was often away from home on business, and the young girl was left with the servants to be taken care of. She once remembered a house maid who often stayed with her, teaching her how to read and write, of tales and songs from the outside world. It was from this one maid the young girl learned about the world she had never seen from beyond her bedroom window or the black iron fence.

However, to ease her longing, Rayline and the servants often played games with the young child, such as Hide-And-Seek amongst the rose bushes or card games that involved being clever with a hand of cards. The young girl didn't realise it then, but the games they played would teach her the most important skills of her future craft.

When she was 12, Rayline revealed the most hidden truth about the household, that they were Nightingales. Rayline, the servants, even the butler and caretaker. She told the young girl that they were a family, and that she was going to be a part of that family. The girl was only still in her youth, and the idea of being a closer part of the 'family' appealed to her deeply. If she realized what the 'family was involved in, she may never have said yes with such certainty as she did.

From that young age, the girl was trained in the arts of stealth and deceit that all the games of Hide-And-Seek and Bretonian Cards had prepared her for. She also learnt how to use the bow and the blade in the basement of the manor. Rayline revealed more and more of the obscure features of the Nightingale order to the girl, and she only wished to learn more of them. Rayline had captivated her fascination and fed her wanting.

These were affairs of the night and the night only. Rayline taught the girl the most important skill a Nightingale had, and that was discretion. To maintain an ordinary life to keep up appearance and disguise their true nature as Nightingales. During the day, Rayline and the servants continued to teach the girl of lady-like activities, such as song, dance, and sewing.

Rayline finally took the girl along for a mission when she turned 13. Her age was of advantage to the success of the mission, and hence she took the girl on a journey to the Noble District of Arthroyeaux. The journey took a day and a few hours, and was plenty of time for the girl to hone her skills and ask Rayline questions. Ever since she had been introduced to the order, the girl had developed a curiosity befitting a Nightingale, as Rayline had commented happily.

The mission was simple, the two were to infiltrate the house of a particular Breton Nobleman and plant a selection of documents that would incriminate him in… Dishonourable deeds, as Rayline had put it. What the girl had to do was play and act, as she had once done with the servants a while ago. She played the orphan girl that the nobleman would take pity upon, and she looked as fearful and dirtied as she could.

The man fell for her act, and took her into his manor for the while to take care of her. The man showed her every part of the house, as Rayline had planned. Unbeknownst to the nobleman, the girl was taking note of every single detail. Every window, door, cabinet, anything that could be locked. By the end of the day, the girl left the manor without the man realizing, and told Rayline everything.

When night fell, the both of them invaded the manor and went straight to the study. Rayline hid in the shadows whilst the girl planted the documents. A hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist, and the nobleman caught her planting the documents. Before he could check the documents, she had stabbed him in the back with a small knife she had on her, despite still being held by the wrist. Rayline herself was surprised when she saw there were two of the girls on either side of the nobleman as he fell to the floor, paralysed by the knife being jabbed into his back. He lay there in pain as Rayline intervened to decide what was to be done. She explained to the confused girl that she had magic, and that something would be done later as she dispelled the illusion. She then decided it was better to put the poor man out of his misery and let investigation of his death dishonour his name. With that, the two departed and disappeared into the night.

That night when the girl had stabbed an actual person for the first time, she felt no remorse or shame in it, because she felt it was necessary.

Thus, necessity become an essential part of her life, and as the girl grew up, so too did her talents began to bloom as a Nightingale, to Rayline's pleasure. Her control over her magic was reassured by tutelage, and she was even taught how to use her magical talent to her job as Nightingale.

Being a child did not stop the girl from completing many missions for the order, and through these missions she began to grow closer to the other Nightingales like a true family, as Rayline had promised. The girl began to accept everything about her life as normal, and eventually learned more about the world as she wished as child that she did now as a Nightingale, an agent of the night and seeker of information.

She learnt new spells and how to use particular potions, poisons and other tools of their craft, and by the time she was 17, the girl had not only become a beautiful young lady, but one of the finest Nightingales the order had to offer.

It was on a mission to Arthroyeaux that the girl finally met the love of her life, a prince by the name of Arsene DuFairre. She had realized it then, but her emotions that had always been normally falsified for the mission were more honest and pure than she had ever known. Her heart was aflutter and her eyes were captivated with his gentle own. He was not a concern of her mission, but she endeavoured to make him a part of her life. She used the skills she had been taught to coincide their meeting, to make them well acquainted to each other. It was an accidental seeming meeting, a fair maiden dropping her basket of flowers when bumping into the prince, but his good nature brought him close enough to the maiden to recognize her as fair.

Their meeting was brief, but the prince's words of praise to her countenance inspired the young maiden to further their relationship beyond acquaintance somehow. She realized that the same ball that she was supposed to attend for the mission was the same ball to be held at the palace where the prince lived. The young maiden usually looked radiant enough without effort, but this time she felt it was… Necessary.

That night, she attended the ball. She wore a Bretonian ballgown that shimmered in the moonlight with the dust of jewels sparkling upon the white feathery material like stardust upon angel's wings, her slippers were made from finest glass to perfect fitting. She would have been the envy of all the fair maidens in attendance. Her mission was to pass a sealed box to a nobleman during the meeting time before the dance. She accomplished her mission, and then went on to the later part of the night. If it were not for her captivation, she would have left early with the cover that she was feeling ill. But on the contrary, she felt better than she ever had before.

When the musicians played, she met with the prince once more, as he recognized her and asked her for the honour of the dance. Never had she blushed so much that her pale face was the colour of strawberries and heated like the striking summer rays. Through accidental stuttering of words that was so alien to her craft, she only barely managed to accept his invitation. She made up for her anxiety with footsteps that impressed the young prince as she kept close to him in a whirling waltz that seemed to last the span of many songs that the musicians played.

When the night was over, she had gone with the prince into the moonlit gardens of the palace, playing amongst the rose bushes and ivy arches with joy and laughter reminiscent of small children. They met one last time beneath a gentle hanging flower, and kissed for the first time with the full moon as their witness to their love. It all felt like a blissful dream for the young fair maiden.

When he finally asked for her name, however, she knew not how to answer, and her feelings stopped her swift thinking to bar her from devising an alias. The bell of the palace chapel tolled, and she used that to her advantage. She cried out in fear as she realized it was her time to go and begged her leave. When she ran, the prince called out to her to come back, as the fair maiden fled into the night. As she ran down the stairs from the palace to reach her carriage, she lost one of her glass slippers in all the hurry before she stepped into the carriage and begged to leave.

For the first time in her life, she questioned who she was, and why she was the Nameless Nightingale. She thought about it, and realized that all of the others had names they could be called by, but all her life she had accepted being called "darling" or "my dear", or whatever miscellaneous nouns could be used by Rayline and the others.

She had hidden the dress and returned to the Manor DuBois as a Nightingale to confront Rayline on her identity, demanding to know the truth of it all. Rayline looked her foster daughter in the eyes and attempted to calm her, to try and tame the wild bird who had returned to the nest with sweet little lies. The maiden saw through them, however, and poked holes in everything her foster mother dared embellished the situation with. She had realized how all her life, she had been nothing but a little bird caged by black iron fences, sheltered and raised to be a beautiful maiden that nobody would know the name of. She had never been in a situation where somebody would ask her of her name until that night.

Rayline finally told the girl the truth, that she was left on her doorstep with no nametag or letter to identify her, and she could never give the girl a name without being her true parent. She apologised to the Nameless Nightingale, and tried to comfort her. But that night, her feelings had overcome her, and the girl who had once called Rayline 'mother' fled the manor with her belongings and disappeared once more into the night.

Months had passed, and the girl fashioned herself an alias and story for her own. She looked upon her noble heraldry of her supposed family, and repeated only one phrase to herself before she set out into the streets of Arthroyeaux.

"I am Mirabelle Valois."

Once she had her identity set, she was intent on reuniting with her prince, who had since sought her out with the single glass slipper that she had lost, as it was apparent that it had to been made to fit. However, no noblewoman nor fair maiden could fit the slipper thus far.

That night she went to the palace to seek audience, she heard the news. The king had passed away in his sleep, and the prince had taken his life only that afternoon when the sun set. The maiden was shattered, as she felt every piece of her heart break into thousands of shards like glass.

She could not believe that the prince had taken his own life, not out of love, but out of knowing. She knew the prince was not too weak of a soul to have feared the throne as his letter claimed, and she felt a spark of anger revive the Nightingale within when she saw the Baron DuRant crowned King.

Months went by, and she had returned once more to the court of Arthroyeaux, still maintaining the alias of Mirabelle Valois. She appealed and joined the court of DuRant with little effort, and become their newest and most splendid addition. She remained Nightingale for her own purpose, and her sole mission then was to discover the truth.

She would discover and expose all the treachery and maleficence there was that surrounded DuRant's throne of corruption, for she was the Nameless Nightingale.
Personality:
Mirabelle is gentle in court, and wears the face of the fair maiden who plays soothing songs to a court longing for her muse. Outside of court, Mirabelle is focused and set on her objectives as a Nightingale, and will do whatever she must. However, there is a longing emptiness and total sadness within her heart, and by the end of the night she finds herself crying in bed that nothing of her illusion magic can make the pain of loneliness any easier.

Job:
Nightingale
Skills:
~ Singing - Mirabelle has a soft and melodic voice and a broad knowledge of Bretonian songs that can be sung at a royal court.
~ Speechcraft - Mirabelle also has a way with words, and her annunciation is clearer than many who claim to be the clearest, where the only stutters and mistakes she makes in speaking are deliberate in nature.
~ Acrobatics - She also has practiced flexible and agile movements through the air, and is capable of leaping from roof to roof or from frightening height without causing injury to herself.
~ Athletics - She may not look it in court, but Mirabelle is a runner of the wind, covering short distances in a flash, and without tiring herself out too much.
~ Stealth - Mirabelle is masterful at using her environment in order to hide herself almost in plain sight, and her Nightingale Garb helps to blend in with the shadows.
~ Blade Efficiency and Finesse - She is well versed and so graceful with her Nightingale Blade that any flick of her blade is almost artfully pleasing to watch in a sense.
~ Combat Movement - This also means she is more than capable of moving around the chaos of a fight quickly in order to strike her opponents in specific points.
~ Marksmanship - She is well practiced with the use of a bow, to a point where she can even fire shots in the dark without loss of accuracy.
~ Horse Archery - It may not be often she uses the skill, but being able to fire her bow on horseback as good as she does on foot can come in handy.
~ Pickpocketing - A minor seeming skill, all Nightingales are definitely taught this basic skill amongst others during their training, and Mirabelle can pickpocket whatever she likes from the common mark.
~ Trapmaking - When ambushes are necessary, so too are traps. Mirabelle is able to create many traps from using just rope or string as her base material.
~ Sewing - She also happens to be very capable of sewing up and embroidering her own garments.
Traits:
~ Observant - Mirabelle's eyes are keen and spot all peculiar and interesting things in her vision.
~ Perceptive - She also has a sense of utmost caution that steers her away from danger.
~ Graceful - Whether she is dancing in court, gliding across rooftops or ducking through battle, Mirabelle is always graceful in movement.
~ Careful - She also takes utmost care, trying to avoid any unnecessarily dangerous situations and taking only few uncertain risks.
~ Quick - One moment her blade may be sparring with your own, and the next it may be in your chest.
~ Swift - As fast as the wind, this Nightingale disappears quickly when pursued by guards.
~ Agile - Able to sidestep average blows and dodge any arrows she sees being fired at her.
~ Precise - Blade or Bow, it matters not. Her strikes and misses are always deliberate with the common foe.
Magic:
General -
~ Focusing - A necessary skill, Mirabelle needs this to maintain her illusions and also to utilize unspoken Magic.
~ Unspoken Magic - A very necessary skill to Nightingales with magic, Mirabelle uses this skill to surprise her foes, especially magic users.
Illusion -
~ Disguise Object - Mirabelle uses this to disguise her Nightingale Blade as an ordinary Steel Shortsword.
~ Cloak of Darkness - She can gather the shadows around her to hide herself in plain sight if needed.
~ Duality - Mirabelle is able to conjure another illusion of herself, one that feels just as solid and does almost just as much damage as her, but can be dispelled easily with magic or by landing a single blow.
~ Disruption - A necessary skill to hiding a Nightingale, Mirabelle can use this spell on herself or another to disrupt any scrying being attempted.
~ Charm - If her natural charm should ever fail for any reason, Mirabelle can use words honeyed with magic to influence the thoughts or actions of another.
Mysticism -
~ Detect Life - Can sense any living entities out of sight from behind walls or in other areas nearby.
~ Detect Death - Detecting the dead or unliving is just as necessary as detecting the living.
~ Telekinesis - Can move objects from an archer's distance.
Talent:
Requiem of a Lonely Nightingale - Composed by Mirabelle, this powerful song inspires immense sadness in all common men and women who hear of her woes, causing them to pause in despair and giving her a chance to escape if needed.

Strengths:
Mirabelle's legs which allow for her most agile and swift movements are her strength. Aside from that, her vision and ability to use the environment to her advantage also benefit her greatly.
Weaknesses:
Mirabelle's emotions are a major weakness, and will cause her to slip up if played upon correctly. Aside from that, Mirabelle has a susceptibility to lightning magic.

Quote:
"Were it that I had wings that I could fly with the angels in a light so bright and far away from this place so dark that I call home."
Theme:
N/A