V.1.26 (House of Caecilius Iucundus); 4091: Whoever loves, let him flourish. Let him perish who knows not love. Let him perish twice over whoever forbids love.
A "baron" (or more derisively, a "robber baron") is also a colloquial term for a businessman who has such a powerful stranglehold on his field of industry that he has managed to create an effective monopoly or trust. Famous examples of such include Rockefeller, Carnegie, and Vanderbilt. Often, the barons are portrayed as having a large hand in government as well, buying off political leaders to further their profit and investing heavily on public infrastructure. I believe that was the idea the GMs were going for in the Triarchy.
🎀𝓐𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 ―――――――――― Unlike her father, a plump, yellowed man of a darker complexion, Elodie is gaunt, pale as a corpse, and angular as a shard of glass. To call her "bony" would not quite seem to do her features justice. Her elbows and knees, when bent, are more akin to blades than clubs, and her hands could be easily mistaken for those of one much older. There is no softness to a woman like her. From a distance, it is almost as if she were drawn by a talentless student, all straight lines and angles. Even her eyes, though undoubtably sharp, seem to have adopted the image of the puppet, and appear glassed over, as if covered by a thin film.
While Elodie is not considered ugly by any except the most persnickety of men, she is rarely, if ever, the most beautiful lady in the room, and are often easily eclipsed by the more radiant girls in the parties she attends. What few suitors she has are more after her title than her form. Elodie knows this well enough, and chooses in most situations not to try and stand out with her clothing. She avoids the poofy skirts currently in vogue, dressing in darker colours and eschews applying thick layers of makeup. Sometimes, she even makes the scandalous decision to wear pants under her gown.
🎀𝓢𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓵 ―――――――――― Madame Geraldine's Finishing School for Young Ladies of Quality
🎀𝓖𝓾𝓲𝓵𝓭 ―――――――――― Not Applicable
🎀𝓖𝓲𝓯𝓽s ―――――――――― Elodie is a strong-limbed woman, and her fists have been known to split bricks. Her legs allow her to jump has high up as nine feet off the ground, and nobody yet has come out the victor in a bout of fisticuffs against her. There was a period, soon after her graduation from Madame Geraldine's, when she was under investigation by the local authorities when the leader of a trading company was found dead on the grounds of the LaVerre family. Signs pointed to Elodie being the last person to have seen him. The autopsy concluded that he was attacked with clubs and bats, and the persecution, having been unable to procure the murder weapon, let her go. Little do they know, none existed.
🎀𝓞𝓬𝓬𝓾𝓹𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 ―――――――――― Elodie, having recently graduated from Madame Geraldine's, returned to the country estate owned by her father, in order to help him with his business. She and her family are a rather minor voice in the large world of the stock market, but do have enough old money to throw around. Her father had wisely realized that the capital economy was the future of wealth, and so has admirably thrown himself in with the Merchant's Guild. Elodie herself was not so quick to such action, but is often required to speak on behalf of her father to guildmasters and representatives of this new "corporation" concept.
🎀𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂 ―――――――――― Believes in the inherent superiority of the nobility Endlessly obedient Has a bit of trouble with thinking for herself Holds herself to a high standard Loves a good puzzle, especially when followed by a good scrap
🎀𝓦𝓱𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓒𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶? ―――――――――― Elodie is certainly capable, with a wide variety of skills applicable to any situation. Perhaps there is a task that requires the silver tongue of a lady, complete with a bit of the flattery that inflates a man's ego and causes them to make fatal mistakes. Perhaps there is a later task that requires that same man to be out of the way, once he realizes he has been duped. Why spend all the effort to plant two agents, when one will do the trick? So long as Elodie has someone to handle the complicated nonsense of machinery and the magicks, she only need be there for her own little brand of magic to take devastating effect.
No doubt the school and its alumni are always seeking young talent. It is a well connected institution of the higher class, and churns out promising ladies with each passing year. Certainly, a woman of status, and yet no place, is no woman at all, and thus the cream of the crop must always be kept under watch, for when a situation arises that may require their specialties.
🎀𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓦𝓮𝓪𝓹𝓸𝓷 ―――――――――― There is usually a small pistol in the folds of Elodie's skirts. In situations where that would be impractical, she IS the weapon. Her hands and feet seem to do well enough as substitutes for actual weaponry. At least, that seemed to be the reaction of anyone who made the mistake of testing it.
🎀𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓜𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 ―――――――――― As far as first impressions go, Elodie knows well enough not to ruin them. She puts on her best diplomatic face and voice and charms the target of her attention, right up until she may get close enough to send an iron knee or elbow into their nose. Rarely has she seemed to need the use of her pistol, but for emergency reasons, it is always nice to have a very loud backup plan.
🎀𝓕𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼(𝓮𝓼) 𝓪𝓽 𝓢𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓵 ―――――――――― Pistols and Petticoats, Discreet Deceit for a Young Lady of Quality, but most of all, Fashion, Firearms, and Fisticuffs.
🎀𝓑𝓲𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝔂 ―――――――――― It is fortunate that Elodie had the privilege of being the daughter of a small noble. Were she of any poorer circumstance, she may not have survived her childhood. She was born sickly, and her father had often said that instead of crying, she coughed. Only through modern medicine and a dash of Lustrya was she able to narrowly avoid the scythe, and medicine was expensive. Her father's land, Stalpront Place, was waning in income, and the servants were becoming quick to seek employment elsewhere. In a moment of desperation, he threw himself into the world of the stock trade. Whether the decision saved the estate or prolonged its death is a subject of much debate among the common folk still living on it.
Still, the money was a good thing, and allowed an Elodie of fourteen years to attend Madame Geraldine's prestigious finishing school. Elodie found technology and aeronautics to be rather dull, but combat was certainly her cup of tea. She was an exemplar student, of good manners and attendance, and was never one to question lessons or break curfew. There was a single moment in which she found it necessary to discipline a fellow student . . . violently. This, incidentally, was the only time she had ever received a punishment in class. She took it in stride, however, and her punishment was cut short. She graduated with the appropriate honors, and returned to home life without incident.
It was during her interregnum that a scandal blew over her house. A man was violently killed, likely by a mob or gang, covered in impact points indicating blunt weaponry. Elodie had been the last person seen with him, and was thus the prime suspect. It was only fortunate that a lady from the inner city, one Rowenna Imperia-Airwright, had taken a notice of the trial that she was saved. Rowenna placed forth multiple points of evidence, some possibly having been fabricated, while an associate of hers, Adrianna Kingsford, managed to convince the Legion to prematurely call off their investigations. The case was dismissed, the judge having been known to mock the persecution for thinking a young woman could kill an esteemed man. It was following that event that Rowenna offered Elodie a position, an intriguing one at that. The opportunity to further her goals, and the goals of everyone in this special little task force they were assembling. Elodie knew well enough to accept.
Lady Rowena Imperia-Airwright: Elodie would be forever grateful to Lady Rowena for assisting her in a crucial moment in her trial. More importantly, even after the unfortunate implications the trial brought, Lady Rowena was still willing to overlook the matter and offer her a position. It was her right as a lady to ask for Elodie's service, and it was Elodie's pleasure to give it. As higher nobility, Lady Rowena's word was Dame Elodie's law, and to suggest otherwise is sacrilege to the ancient and true practice of feudalism.
Helena Burton: Yes, the two of them have encountered each other within the halls of the school. Helena was the older one, but hardly the more mature. Too friendly, too open. Not good traits in this world. Then again, Elodie doesn't know much about her. There are a few details Helena keeps a little too close to vest. What secrets does she hide?
@ayzrules Gotcha. I said "soul magic" because I had forgot both the name of the healing "goodly magic", and how to commence with the Herculean task of scrolling up. All of these issues are easily editable.
🎀𝓐𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 ―――――――――― Unlike her father, a plump, yellowed man of a darker complexion, Elodie is gaunt, pale as a corpse, and angular as a shard of glass. To call her "bony" would not quite seem to do her features justice. Her elbows and knees, when bent, are more akin to blades than clubs, and her hands could be easily mistaken for those of one much older. There is no softness to a woman like her. From a distance, it is almost as if she were drawn by a talentless student, all straight lines and angles. Even her eyes, though undoubtably sharp, seem to have adopted the image of the puppet, and appear glassed over, as if covered by a thin film.
🎀𝓢𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓵 ―――――――――― Madame Geraldine's Finishing School for Young Ladies of Quality
🎀𝓖𝓾𝓲𝓵𝓭 ―――――――――― Not Applicable
🎀𝓖𝓲𝓯𝓽s ―――――――――― Elodie is a strong-limbed woman, and her fists have been known to split bricks. Her legs allow her to jump has high up as nine feet off the ground, and nobody yet has come out the victor in a bout of fisticuffs against her.
🎀𝓞𝓬𝓬𝓾𝓹𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 ―――――――――― Elodie, having recently graduated from Madame Geraldine's, returned to the country estate owned by her father, in order to help him with his business. She and her family are a rather minor voice in the large world of the stock market, but do have enough old money to throw around. Her father had wisely realized that the capital economy was the future of wealth, and so has admirably thrown himself in with the Merchant's Guild. Elodie herself was not so quick to such action, but is often required to speak on behalf of her father to guildmasters and representatives of this new "corporation" concept.
🎀𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂 ―――――――――― Believes in the inherent superiority of the nobility Endlessly obedient Has a bit of trouble with thinking for herself Holds herself to a high standard Loves a good puzzle, especially when followed by a good scrap
🎀𝓦𝓱𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓒𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶? ―――――――――― Elodie is certainly capable, with a wide variety of skills applicable to any situation. Perhaps there is a task that requires the silver tongue of a lady, complete with a bit of the flattery that inflates a man's ego and causes them to make fatal mistakes. Perhaps there is a later task that requires that same man to be out of the way, once he realizes he has been duped. Why spend all the effort to plant two agents, when one will do the trick? So long as Elodie has someone to handle the complicated nonsense of machinery and the magicks, she only need be there for her own little brand of magic to take devastating effect.
No doubt the school and its alumni are always seeking young talent. It is a well connected institution of the higher class, and churns out promising ladies with each passing year. Certainly, a woman of status, and yet no place, is no woman at all, and thus the cream of the crop must always be kept under watch, for when a situation arises that may require their specialties.
🎀𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓦𝓮𝓪𝓹𝓸𝓷 ―――――――――― There is usually a small pistol in the folds of Elodie's skirts. In situations where that would be impractical, she IS the weapon. Her hands and feet seem to do well enough as substitutes for actual weaponry. At least, that seemed to be the reaction of anyone who made the mistake of testing it.
🎀𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓜𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 ―――――――――― As far as first impressions go, Elodie knows well enough not to ruin them. She puts on her best diplomatic face and voice and charms the target of her attention, right up until she may get close enough to send an iron knee or elbow into their nose. Rarely has she seemed to need the use of her pistol, but for emergency reasons, it is always nice to have a very loud backup plan.
🎀𝓕𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼(𝓮𝓼) 𝓪𝓽 𝓢𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓵 ―――――――――― Pistols and Petticoats, Discreet Deceit for a Young Lady of Quality, but most of all, Fashion, Firearms, and Fisticuffs.
🎀𝓑𝓲𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝔂 ―――――――――― It is fortunate that Elodie had the privilege of being the daughter of a small noble. Were she of any poorer circumstance, she may not have survived her childhood. She was born sickly, and her father had often said that instead of crying, she coughed. Only through modern medicine and a dash of Lustrya was she able to narrowly avoid the scythe, and medicine was expensive. Her father's land, Stalpront Place, was waning in income, and the servants were becoming quick to seek employment elsewhere. In a moment of desperation, he threw himself into the world of the stock trade. Whether the decision saved the estate or prolonged its death is a subject of much debate among the common folk still living on it.
Still, the money was a good thing, and allowed an Elodie of fourteen years to attend Madame Geraldine's prestigious finishing school. Elodie found technology and aeronautics to be rather dull, but combat was certainly her cup of tea. She was an exemplar student, of good manners and attendance, and was never one to question lessons or break curfew. There was a single moment in which she found it necessary to discipline a fellow student . . . violently. This, incidentally, was the only time she had ever received a punishment in class. She took it in stride, however, and her punishment was cut short. She graduated with the appropriate honors, and returned to life with her father and their estate for a few (relatively) quiet years before receiving a letter from a decorated alumna under the name "Kingsford".
"Certainly," Ardasa said. "This really is fascinating. Everything is so . . . historic. It really reminds me that my home was raised no longer ago than the last year. One day, I, or my children, shall have stories like those held within your walls. Let us hope for that." _____________________________ It was late, and yet Rughoi was not asleep. Hard to be, when the emerging guilds and their masters are ceaseless in their demands, each less sufferable than the last.
"With all due respect, Your Might, I would rather these matters settled with Her Mercy," said one, a middle aged kobold missing a few fingers. He scratched at the loose scales hanging off his chin and neck. His words struck like a flung rock, and made Rughoi visibly twitch. The guild leaders seemed not to notice.
"I as well," said another, a youngster an uncomfortable shade of deep red. "Where has she gone? Why do you take her place?" He spoke with the accent of a southern tribesmen, lilting with sudden stops. Rughoi resisted the call of his anger, to wring the scrawny necks of everyone at the table, ending with himself.
"I have mentioned this," Rughoi said, slowly picking his words. "Ardasa is away, handling matters of diplomacy." Immediately, the guildmasters voices drowned him out, complaining and debating, some with him and some against. He buried his snout in his hands, willing with his soul for his bound one to suddenly burst through the door and send these merchants away. What made her so different from he, that he is cursed to watch her deal effortlessly with words and people where he struggle? What, were she here, would she do? Rughoi silently stood up, and drew his dagger. Instead of plunging it into flesh, he slammed it into the wood, jolting the guildmasters into silence. "Ardasa is not here. I am. The quicker we come to an agreement, the quicker you may return to your duties, and return a month hence to find her in the palace." Slowly, one kobold nodded, a grim tilt of his head. Others joined. For the first time in a long time, Rughoi let a grin split his face. "Excellent choice. Now, regarding the supply tax . . ."
"Eudoxus? Surely not that Eudoxus," Ardasa said. "My people's elderly and wise kept tales of our ancestor tribe, which they only remember as the Invincibles. My father and a select few others can claim descent from their remains. It was said that the Invincibles were impervious to swords, and raided great cities, plundering them of their gold and recruiting the kobolds into their ranks." She gazed intently at the statue, feeling somehow as if the image were somehow familiar. "The story goes that a vengeful tyrant by the name Eudokos, or Eudoxus, depending on which elder told it, raised an army of devil-folk and struck the Invincibles while they hid in their caves. The tribe was slaughtered nine kobolds of ten, and those left scattered, becoming chiefs in the neighboring tribes. Amazing, how legends can be."
Lukas casually walked back to the scissors and slipped his messy remains of one in with the rest. He quickly backed up, hoping nobody saw. If anyone asks about it, his plan is to deny everything and hope they believe him. He was about to return to his place, perhaps ask the councelors about other activities, when something made him stop. "What the-" he sputtered. "Is that me?" Remarkable, how someone was able to so expertly capture his likeness, or someone close enough. It was all there, down to the bent scissors and the wood and the Greek lettering. "Uhh . . . That's not going to be your name tag, is it?" he asked. Seems odd to him for someone he'd never met to have a picture of him, which they both are going to see for the rest of the month-or-two of their stay here.
Kronshi
Noctis
Vampiretwilight
Little Bill