Princess Nadalena Kofenstein

15

4ᵀᴴ

Espenovan Commonwealth

Nadalena is on the short end of height equivalent to her ethnic background and gender at five foot even. Her skin is light, possibly paler than others due to the mountainous environment of Espenova and her preference for indoor tutelage but she has been one to go outside so it isn’t simply a complexion born of a recluse. She has irises born of burgundy and her long blue-black hair gives her the impression of a girl of trueborn espenovan descent. In addition to her physical appearance she tends to gravitate towards practicality in her dress thus wears simple yet still elegant gowns of dark colors such as ebony, charcoal, burgundy, mahogany, midnight blue, and ash. These are generally accent by simple silver accessories (sometimes with jewelry enhanced with sapphires or emeralds) such as tiaras, bracelets, lockets, amulets, and rings.

Nadalena Kofenstein was born in Ružovec, the largest city in the western demense of the Espenovan Commonwealth as the eldest child of an aging monarch.

Nadalena was always a quiet child with few friends and companions; she didn’t care to interact much and instead preferred reading books of various scholars ranging from subject to subject; generally espenovan in origin. These generally gave her a perspective of her cultural and historical heritage that she found fascinating, especially those that were beliefs written about the warring kingdoms era where espenovan were not only at the throats of those in the south, but their brothers and sisters with petty kingdoms plotting to discredit, manipulate, control, and conquer their kinsmen because they felt they could not be trusted; a paranoia that seems to have been injected in the espenovan since their creation. But young Nadalena didn’t see it as delusional cowardice but rather overzealous cautiousness; a trait initiated out of precaution and earnest protection. She found it interesting how by the time the realm survived the warring kingdoms era there were only five espenovan great houses that succeeded: House Kofenstein, House Raksa, House Klasek, House Sárbon, and House Myrtrov; with her house being the most powerful of them all.

Her father’s tutelage about how the world would come to exist framed a lot of her theological and political views as well as made her understand that she had to know people to predict them. If she needed to be a master of shadows and murmurs to do so, she would become such. Still, courtesies and manners were not something Nadalena wasn’t educated upon; after all, she was still as much as a princess as she was an espenovan. But beneath all the smiles and fragrances there was an untrusting scowl underneath it all in truth. The words “trust no one, not even your friends” would become concrete upon her mind; especially after experiencing an attempted seizing of power by her father’s own brother when she was ten years old. This would give her the comprehension that humanity was factually changing and it was not simply cynical theories and that anybody could succumb to greed. She watched her uncle’s execution with her own eyes as her father drove his sword into his chest.

Classical Painting
Classical Piano
European Literature
Language

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Maya Enilsdottir

16

4ᵀᴴ

Monarchy of Telemarin
_{A nation well known for it's iron production and logging industry, protected by vast mountainranges and deep forests. A nation also known for poverty amongst the common people, debt and loansharks controlling large parts of the cities.}

Maya is a perfect specimen of a fragile-looking, porcelain-like person. Her body hardly breaks five feet four in size, and her limbs thin and weak. Being born and raised in a cold landscape with barely any sun breaking through the dense forests has left her with a pale, almost white, skin. And result of this is that she hides from the sun, simply because her skin is extremely prone to sunburns. Aside from this, the feature that helps build on this porcelain-like feature of her is her white, snow-like hair, seemingly so fragile just touching it will cause it to break apart or melt in your palms. Her face seems to be in a constant lack of expression, no happiness or sadness or any other emotion. As if it is completely stiff, as if she's a doll. Her deep, ocean-blue eyes is said to send shivers down the backs of any unfortunate to meet her gaze, the empty, cold harsh stare both beautiful and terrifying like that of a frozen tundra. However there definitely is signs of vanity in her, given that she seems to take care of her looks. Attempting to animate her face somewhat, she tends to use makeup of slightly more living colours despite not always making it perfect.

Born to Enil Mengsson, the famous loanshark residing in the city of Skeihn, Maya's youth was one of both wealth and happiness. Maya knew little strife, little dissatisfaction as every day was a new experience. Be it a trip to the southern nations of Europa with her father, be it gifts from the common people seeking her father's affection or be it a new dish on her table. Growing up in a world where everyone considered her an equal even to the royal family, Maya's smile offered the plagued souls around her a moment of relief from their pain.

Well, that is until the revelation of what her father was. Maya was never a dumb child, but she was naive, truly naive. In her very early teens she began to understand exactly what type of work her father was doing, and the knowledge that she's living the good life and just riding whatever wave her father offered.. by sending others to the cauldrons and mines. She grew colder to her father, to her friends and to herself, she seemed to fall into a depression. And confronted with this, she figured that if she's going to accept living in luxury, she should have the title, the knowledge and the diploma stating her position. And thus, she convinced her father to send her to the Academy.

Economy
Philosophy
Classical Literature

Maya's frozen glare is well renowned around the entire school at this point, often dubbed the princess of ice given both her heritage in the cold landscape in the North, as well as the aforementioned gaze, it has been a title she's accepted. Despite her cold exterior and harsh words however, she's still one to take care of her friends. Indeed, her cold exterior is in strict opposition to her nervous mind.

Her right eye has a golden brand similar to a teardrop, barely visible unless you actually look into them

Seyrun Riviathan

16

4ᵀᴴ

Grand Duchy Nordland.
Continental Europa's northernmost nation, widely known for its progressive ideology — including a transition to a hybrid parliamentary system sponsored by the Royal Family — and vast, nearly untapped reserves of resources.

Seyrun is an exotic looking girl. At almost five and a half feet, she's slightly taller than most girls of her same age group, sporting a slim and well-built physique that makes her height even more apparent. Seyrun actually enjoys having a mature figure, but she can grow self-conscious if people stare at her too much. Her pale skin is typical of those who were born and raised in the North, which has a downside of making her extremely susceptible to sunburns. However, Seyrun's most distinctive characteristics are her pale blue hair and eyes, a rare hereditary trait of Nordland's people most commonly seen in the Royal family.

Seyrun is the crown princess of the rapidly-advancing Grand Duchy of Nordland, a nation that's trying to leave the pre-industrial era in a better way than most of its neighbors. Such attempts include reforms in all areas of their society and a controlled exploitation of their vast stockpiles of resources. Perhaps the most jarring discrepancy is was a bloodless revolution that led to their current parliamentary regime with the royalty willingly giving up a large part of their power in order to secure a stable future to the nation.

Despite her position, however, Seyrun doesn't hold very big expectations of — or wants to — taking the throne in her life. Her parents are healthy and young. It's much more likely that the Crown will skip right into the hands of Seyrun's future heir, or heiress; something that she actually finds very reassuring to say the truth. Because she doesn't have to bother with the throne, Seyrun could live as a "tomboyish princess" that can take care of other issues rather than diplomacy and protocol. One of these pursuits is Seyrun's interest for education which she decided to make one of her life's objectives. After all, even if she doesn't get the crown, she can use whatever she learns to help her people, her family and herself grow much better in the future.

Mathematics (Especially Geometry, Linear Algebra and Trigonometry)
Fencing
Swiming
Literature (Especially mystery and science fiction)

Nothing to add at the moment.

Aisling Kavanagh

16

4th

United Kingdom of Albion, from the island of Éire

There's nothing elegant or refined about Aisling's appearance and at a simple glance it's easy to detect the presence of a pauper amongst princesses. It starts at the top with her hair. A messy mop of dark red that looks as if it hasn't known proper brushing or washing and the uneven bangs suggest someone cuts with a mirror in one hand and scissors in the other. Her height is almost the only thing of note, at a flat five foot five, and even then it hardly makes up for anything. Her posture doesn't do her height any favors nor does her physique which is gangly slender on the best of days. Often she had been known to attire herself in the rags of a newspaper boy, suspenders, trousers, a newsy hat, and a scruffy shirt. She's more comfortable in clothing like that due to familiarity even as it makes her appear boyish at a cursory glance. She never quite learned the proper ins and outs of femininity. A bright spot on her otherwise dirty peasant appearance are her eyes which have a sparkling seagreen gleam to them. Her fingers, perhaps her most important trait, are small and slender and the pads of her fingers are rough from prior callusing. Even should Aisling be dressed in attire befitting that of noble or wealthy birth, it would only be like putting a mud soaked pig in a ballgown.

If the hair didn't make it clear, her rough manner of speaking along with the obvious Celtic brogue paints her as a native of Éire, an island nation of the United Kingdom of Albion noted for its hills and greenery of which Aisling never really got to see. Her mother died delivering her and her father, even before taking to the drink after losing his wife, was never one to hold a job for more than a few months at a time. Aisling thus spent her childhood without the comfort of a stable house relying on the kindness of strangers or the sailors and shipmen that often made port in the city. Begging was what she knew until a better way presented itself.

Aisling, finding an old violin left to decay in an alley, took to the instrument immediately. The strings needed replacing and tightening and the bow was snapped, but a few odd jobs for the locals - delivering foodstuffs mostly - resulted in Aisling trading upwards in order to fix or replace the parts. It was not perfect, but it was hers and she played it daily and nightly. At first it was atrocious, but having little else to do during the day meant she had time to practice. By the time she was thirteen she had been playing in the streets,
busking her way to warm food at night.

It wasn't all daisies and roses. Busking was hardly a means of living and Aisling's father was unreliable and increasingly angered by his young daughter making more money than he was, even if it wasn't much at all. Always thinking Aisling killed his wife, he made a deal with a trade vessel. A quick payday for Aedan Kavanagh came at the cost of Aisling working for food on the return voyage to the main island of Albion as the ship musician. She was dumped unceremoniously in Albion with only a violin and small hands and a few tricks of the trade picked up on the voyage over.

Busking was much harder here so Aisling turned, like many of the urchins of the day, to sleight of hand and pickpocketing. She only took enough to feed herself, but the reputation of a thief caught up with her after picking the pocket of someone she really shouldn't have. She tried to run away to no avail and her punishment was her violin being smashed to pieces in front of her.

How a girl like Aisling ended up at The Academie de L’Espoir is anybody's guess and only Aisling and the one who brought her there know what went down, though her only merit is that of her musical ability. Perhaps someone saw potential in a little street urchin. She stands out for all the wrong reasons but at least there's a roof and food, provided she keeps her nose clean.

Musical Aptitude
Physical Athletics
Economics

Nothing at the moment, but perhaps more to come down the road.

Lady Audovera Dietrich

15

4ᵀᴴ

Imperial Sovereignty of Xargon

Measured at five foot seven and a half, Vera is amongst the taller breed of students at the academy – and she knows it. Audovera descends from the German nobility at the Xargonite capital of Aachen, though she has spent time at other major German core cities in her time. Her eyes give the appearance of rubies as strands of bleach blonde hair fall from her forehead. In terms of attire, Vera is rarely in a casual form and whilst being “tomboyish” of sorts in her distaste for dresses she still chooses to appear as a woman and not a puckish boy. Her skin is not pale, likely due to spending summers in Rome.

Audovera Dietrich was born in Aachen, the largest city and capital of the German nation known as the Imperial Sovereignty of Xargon.

Classical Fencing
Classical Violin
European Literature
Language
Strategem Games

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