CitrusArms — Roleplayer Guild

Stratya Durmand

Time: 25th, 10 am
Location: Edwards Estate
Attire:Officer’s Formal
Family Dirk + Crest
Interactions: Ariella @Tpartywithzombi, Duke Gideon @princess
Mentions:

Stratya had gotten for ‘erself one of the glasses o’ mead that were goin’ ‘round, as she was regaling Ariella a bit abou’ ‘er youth. Baking with her mother, bullish figh’s wit’ the local boys, hunting, playing in t’ woods, fishing wit’ her father. There was much to tell that might be novel to a young upper class lady like Ariella. Even if it seemed mundane, but no less cherished, to Stratya.

“Loathe it? Ooh, swee’ thing, full glad ye’ve got’en ovah tha’. T'is beau’y tae be’old.” Stratya watched Ariella go f’r more from an empty glass and the knight halfed the smile that tried to overtake her. An empty glass that was supposed to be full was not unfamiliar to her.

Goin’ tae ‘igh class par’ies without proper shoes or any shoes a’tall was certainly something she’d na’er done, “ooh~! if t’ese boo’s werenae such a pain in t’ arse, I migh’ join ya. I be’ yer grrass is soft, it’d feel good ‘tween me toes.” The rural woman smiled, get’in’ a feel for Ariella’s interests, ”you’d like t’ Vermillion coun’rryside. Nothin’ bu’ plains and fahrrests and farrms as farr as t’ eye c’n see. There’s an ‘ole big lake surrounded by forrest near wh’rre I grrew up, too.”

When Arriella leaned in, Strratya mimicked ‘er motion and brrough’ herself closer, smilin’, “aye am, and aye ken.” It felt a little like Ariella was building up to a weird joke until she asked about holding her weapon, eyeing ‘er dirk. Stratya ‘ad been about tae give ‘er rresponse, the grin on ‘er face shifting to something less cerrtain, and then Duke Gideon showed up.

Stratya held the beautiful, generations old thing in her hands, still not believing that something so nice was now hers. A dirk, adorned with a crest. She fastened it to her waistband, almost feeling bad about the idea of going out to use it. Almost.

Fifteen, and going out on her first big hunt with her father. To go with the occasion, her first, real blade and armor. She’d held real weapons before, under supervision, and used knives in the kitchen, but this one was hers. No one could take it from her. She had been taught to treat it as part of her body, a trusted thing that she could use to safeguard herself and those she loves. She ran her fingers over the crest engraved in the hilt. The crest was here and there throughout her home, but never on anything big or obvious. It was always this little piece of metal on the end of something, for example. She'd never thought anything of it before, and she couldn’t step back from herself enough to figure out why it seemed strange.

“Kiddo! Arre ya rready, lass?” A man’s voice called from outside, patient and warm.

Stratya ran to window and called, ”I’ll be righ’ ou’, Pa!” The girl turned and made for the door of her room, checking herself over once as she did, making sure all her armor was secured correctly and that her dirk would not go anywhere. Satisfied, she nodded to herself and ran from the house, past her mother, whom she hugged and kissed, ”bye, Ma, love you! I'll be back with a good hunt!”

“Just make sure you come back, luv.”

Young Stratya was excited to put her training to use for something besides the inter-village skirmishes between festivals, for the kids. They used softwood swords for the skirmishes, and lucky kids got bits of leather armor, but mostly the armor was a very strict rule about serious injuries. Often, older kids would act as judges of combat, and sometimes even the Baron’s son would observe. When you turn fifteen, you’re too old to participate, and it’s time for you to go around between the villages and find your trade, instead. For her, though, she stayed here. She was a fine hand for baking, but also, there was her father's training to continue. He'd always told her she could quit, stick to baking or whatever else took her fancy.

“Hah, there’s t’ lass.” The girl’s father placed a hand on her shoulder as she ran up to him. “Looks good on ya. Rready ta go hun’in’?”

“aye, aye!” She knew she liked meat, anyway, and fresh meat was best. Full of energy and excitement, a young Stratya could hardly contain herself.

The man grinned and turned to lead the way, “then let’s quit faffin’ abou’!”

They joined a pair of hunters in the woods, a man and a woman. Stratya got a professional but couple-y vibe from them. Were they married? Their cloaks looked very well made. Was that chainmail? Her father greeted them, “Maximilian, Analise, good ta see ya, frriends. My daugh’er, Stratya,” and motioned to his side, where Stratya stood.

“Ah, yes. She certainly looks comfortable in her gear. It seems you’ve trained her well,” there was something unsettling about how he looked at her, like a merchant looking over offered goods. “Let us find our quarry, then.” Stratya also wasn’t a fan of being so ignored when she was right there. Talked about but not to.

The four of them went deeper into the forest, stalking carefully through the shade. Stratya had used traps for rabbits before, but she understood they were after something bigger, this time. After a while, Analise crouched to the ground and raised her hand, “hold on. Here.” She examined something, what looked like a snapped twig, and looked around to find footprints left in the mud, “boar prints.”

Stratya found herself suddenly hesitant. She'd run into boars before, during the village fights. She and the others had to climb trees to get away. That's what they were here hunting? Well, at least she had adults with her.

Before she realized, she was face-to-face with the beast. She stopped, staring back at its tiny eyes. It seemed like she stared the beast down for some time, before she looked to either side of her, looking for the adults she had been with.

Gone.

“Uuh..” Stratya was suddenly very nervous. The boar must have smelled her fear, and it took a step forward. She took a step back, and then the chase was on.

Where had they gone? As she ran, Stratya ducked behind trees or leapt over fallen logs to stop the creature from coming at her in a straight line. They were with her just a moment ago, couldn't be far. Where had her father gone?! She began to run a careful circle as she searched, threatening tusks at her heels. She called, only once or twice.

No time to find them. She needed to handle this on her own.

She couldn't stop its charge head-on, no way. Stratya had to stop it some other way, or get around it. There were plenty of obstacles about, but she found it wasn't dumb enough to charge into any of them. The girl did, however, spot a low-hanging branch she should just be able to jump and reach. When she went for it, her fingers only brushed against it. Just too short. 

Damn! Her face contorted with frustration.

Once tumbled upright, into a crouch, she looked back to see the beast just there, bearing down on her.

Jus’ make sure you c’me back, luv. The worry that had been in her mother's voice was apparent to her now.

Stratya threw herself aside in time, and the beast became confused. It hadn't gored or trampled anything. While it tried to locate her, she saw what she could do. That tree she tried to use just then may yet be useful.

The beast was starting to turn toward her.

Her fingers dug into the terrain and she pulled herself up into a run. After a short sprint, she used the tree as a platform to redirect her body into the air and back at the boar before it could fully turn on her. She grabbed that damn branch and swung forward to land backwards on the creature.

The boar had the time to turn and face her fully, but it didn’t matter anymore. She was above it, and came crashing down on top.

Her weight was not enough to force the stout creature to the ground, and it started bucking and thrashing. Stratya drew her knife and drove it into the rear flank of the creature, piercing deeply into the muscle and abdomen. Shrieks and squeals accompanied its fall to the ground, the leg disabled. Distressed young Stratya spun herself around on the boar’s back and drove her blade into the neck next. The head thumped to the ground, the creature now silent.

Stratya found herself out of breath as she pulled herself off the still creature and onto the shaded, grassy ground, staring up through the forest canopy. There was blood smeared across her arms and legs. She stared at her hand holding the knife for a moment, trembling with the exertion, strain, and vanishing adrenaline. Her hand, and the dirk, were covered in a slowly dripping crimson. 

She could hear a voice from not far off, “you’ve trained her very well, excellent work, Mr. Durmand.”

Angus Donald Durmand kept himself from glaring at the hunting man. Instead, he simply approached his daughter and knelt over her, looking into her eyes. “‘ey Kid– nae, ‘at’s wrong. Strratya,” suddenly, he had her full focus. “You’re an adul’, nao, y’ken. Nae many kiddos are ‘is successful on t’eir firs’ ‘un’, le’ alone make t’ kill. I am prroud of you, Strratya Gwendolyn Durmand."

He didn’t often use her name. Usually, it was to scold her, instead he’d address her with some pet name. But this time, there was a deep respect behind it, reinforced as he addressed her with her full name. She felt like she could count on her hands the number of times she’d heard her middle name. She had thought about how many names she had before, but had no mind to pay it at this moment. ”You..” she was still quite out of breath and unsteady as her hand lifted to point at him. It fell again shortly, ”lef’ me.. y’ bastard..” Her message delivered, the girl resigned herself to just trying to steady her breathing.

The man just laughed, the insult rolling off him like water from a duck. “Haha, per’aps I am, per’aps nae. Strratya, you ‘ave passed this phase o’ yourr trrainin’ - with grran’ colours - and now we come ta t’ last. We will ‘ave a feast, with the beast you killed prepared at t’ cen’er.” Angus paused meaningfully, “you will ‘ave firs’ choice o’ meat.”

Stratya took a slow gasp, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. The first choice of meat?! It was like a dream. She'd always watched the adults take their pick of food first, the hunters first among them, then the cooks. She spoke between breaths, ”I’ve ne.. ne’er got’en.. any o’ t’.. t’ ribs.. before..”

The knight no’iced Arriella had got’en rrather drrunk off o’ - was that ‘er firrst drrink? Strratya’s own drink ‘ad been rather strrong, but she didn’t think it had been like tha’. (Stratya her gotten hers fresh from the barkeep, after all.) Perr’aps Arriella was not accustomed to alcohol? It didn’t seem like that happened in this layer of the social ladder. She was jus’ a ligh’weigh’?

Ariella had omitted her asking to hold her weapon from her description to her father, ”aye, aye, t’ choc’la’e’s reyt fine, i’tis. I was jus’ sayin’ I’ll ‘ave tae try an’ pu’ a choc’la’e swirrl in m’ nex’ batch o’ sweet brreads.” Stratya discovered she had finished the porrtion of mead tha’ was smaller than wha’ she knew and brrough’ ‘er cocktail back in, though she didnae drrink from it ye’. ”T’ mead is me brud’ers passion, aye. He made anot’er flavorr by using ‘oney from an area rrich in berries. Clever ba-” she looked over at the Cassius table for a second, ”er.. guy.”

The knigh’ saw an arrm around Lady Charlotte, and therre, t' Princess was in someone's lap. Huh. She didn't think these cirrcles were so flirtatious. She'd only read about stuffy decorum and how to cur'sey properly. Strra’ya took a sip of her cocktail, - there was Prince W’lfric, back from t’ stables - and then anot’er as she turned back tae t’ table at hand. Ooh, what a good drink. Those colorful ones the servants just brought looked good, too. She'd have to try one in a minute.

Baron in Rural Vermillion
Raynor Lancaster, 30, Male




Appearance


Height: 5'7"
Weight: 145 lbs
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Length/Texture: Short and well-kept, straight, smooth, somewhat oily
Hair Color: Black
Skin Color: Fair
Facial details: Gentle but strong features and a shaved mustache and beard.
Distinguishing features: His eyes are very blue.
Clothing Preferences: Robes and billowy things, though sometimes a nice, crisp suit is good, too.



Psychology


Likes:
Fine spirits, quiet, firelight, old lore, plays and theater, anthropology, archeology
Dislikes:
Electric light, burned things, lost knowledge, too much company

Sexuality:
Heterosexual

Hobbies:
Reading, star-guided divination, ancient rituals to the Gods, preserving knowledge, sketching

Life Goals/Dreams:
He has much to learn and rebuild, after the ruin that visited his family. He had been looking forward to a relaxing life of reading, and had been considering becoming a priest, though how serious that consideration had been is unknown. He must soon consider finding a wife to be an important priority.

Personality Summary:
Raynor has become a serious man out of necessity. The rigors of rebuilding the trust in his family his father lost and dealing with staffing issues has drained him of whatever humor he once had. He prefers his time spent alone in the library or in his study, but finds himself often in meetings with his staff.

When he’s not drowning in work and lament, he’s kind and easy-going, he’ll even crack a joke. He’s not a very tidy man, often haphazardly tossing garments onto the floor or some such, though he takes care of his appearance.



Background


Current occupation:
Baron

Any past occupations?:
None

Relatives:
Father, Baron Maximilian Lancaster (Deceased)
Step-Mother, Baroness Analise Lancaster (Missing, Wanted)
Brother, Lord Donovan Lancaster (Deceased)

Skills:
Literature and Lore, wine and mead tasting, delegation, star navigation, acting

History Summary:
Before the Kingdom of Caesonia expanded into the region now known as Vermilion, the barbarians that occupied the area around present-day Encia were particularly resilient. Whenever one clan came under attack, with an alarming frequency, another clan would come from a flanking position on the Kingdom’s advancing army. While the Kingdom advanced steadily, engagements were trying. Their strategic coordination was strange and powerful. Their warriors, as well, were particularly formidable among the barbarians in the area. Due to the costly nature of engagements, when the Kingdom received an offer of submission, they took it. The warrior clans asked only to keep their way of life, their culture, and a treaty was struck. The Lancaster Barony is old, old enough that many have forgotten the importance of it.

Up until two years ago, Raynor Lancaster had an easy life to look forward to. Nothing too opulent, like you might find in the capital city, but easy enough. His needs were to be met and he would marry a woman from one of the clansmen elder families, or marry upward, if possible. Two years ago, such ideas were shattered when the then Lieutenant Stratya Durmand shattered his father’s underground sorcerer ring and black market. Raynor was left with many pieces to pick up and put back together.

With his time, the bookish man had read much of the library in his home since childhood. Myths, legends, fiction, non, he’d read much and more in the thousands and thousands of pages. That’s how he noticed something amiss in his town.

It started with the disturbances in 1733, speckled with murders. Stratya, the first child of an elder family and his old friend, had come to him for counsel after the first murder in 1734. Her keen observation and his literary mastery proved useful together, to his surprise. The implications of the things they discovered ran deep into the Barony. It was discovered that Maximilian Lancaster had been keeping things quiet purposefully. The problems were routed in 1737.

CitrusArms Member

Space Spatula

Status

Recent Statuses

Bio

Most Recent Posts