Enzayne

The Depths of Blackmire Keep - Dare You Enter?

I'd also like to throw my hat into this ring, unless it's considered bad form to have missed the initial interest check.

Duke's Quest

I will work fulltime on a post after tomorrow's exam. 😱

Duke's Quest

My favorite part about time zones is how arbitrary they are in some places.

Duke's Quest

I am on the path to becoming a history and sociology teacher at the gymnasium (upper secondary school) level myself. Doing history exams this term.

Duke's Quest

This quest is gonna go great. I predict the tumultous overthrow of an enemy regent and the new regime of Lord Giles, with a trusted court.

Duke's Quest

Aurélie ate her stew with the fervor of a starving animal; Quiet, suspicious of the others and arguably taking as much as she could. Who knew how long they'd go before another meal? If Ser Giles intended to continue command over future firepits, they may never eat again. What manner of leader can't start a simple fire? Not that she envied the attempt in these conditions, but she wasn't about to step in unless it was life or death, or these stiff nobles started exercising their right to boss her around.

She paused in her quest for a full belly and stared at the knight as he spoke, weighing his words against the stormcloud impression he'd held up to this point. Nothing is ever as quick, painless or easy as it is imagined in the tales. She smirked to herself, pondering what they'd write of this when it was said and done. In the company of knights and nobility, she doubted she would make much of a character for any fledgling troubadour.

Any aspiration to mirth drained from her as the templar - Ser Hugo - spoke up. His stiff devotion to playing the part he's chosen put her off before they even left Brest, and his tale of bravery in England did not aid matters. Aurélie stiffened in turn. Templars are dangerous. It doesn't matter what you believe, do or say. If a templar thinks you wicked, they will not stop until you are dead. What few stories she'd heard, observed and what she gathered from Ser Hugos' words led her to one simple conclusion; Watch what you say and do. Men devoted to faith - and worse, men of honour - had notoriously foreign views on how the natural world should operate.

It wasn't long until the next voice sounded off, and Aurélie got the first real look at the only other woman around. Just a girl, though invariably exactly as she'd come to know the wives and daughters of nobility and the rich; Pretty, delicate, unpleasantly dramatic. Still, it made perfect sense to bring a negotiator to a quest like this, and given enough grace, she'd be sure to soothe any unpleasantness. So long as she didn't break into pieces along the way. Aurélie watched the girl take to her instrument, falling into a momentary lapse as she listens and merely ponders her own situation. Knights and nobles. Saving a-.. what was it? Princess? Why did she get dragged into this?

The warm flare of green shocks her enough to send her back into the present, and to catch the last of the Magus introduction. He earns himself a stiff sneer for his theatrics, albeit warily so. She isn't surprised there's one of them along, but she doesn't have to be pleased either. Another one to watch out for.

So it is that the next member of their assembly is a welcome relief. The man known as Tristan Veneti appears to be the counterpart of the young Concordia: A noble fop with no skills of note outside of their regal courts. He even admits to having no experiences. Just another man to protect on the road. Doubtful he'll even have a mind to look her way.

Chomping down on a particularly hard-fought bit of stew at the bottom of her bowl, she ponders her predicament. Why is she here? Amid nobles, knights, and mages? Shifting on her comfortable log seat, she puts her bowl aside and comes to rest an elbow on the hilt of her arming sword, leaning back to regard the group.

I am here because I am expendable. Without livery or loyalty.

It is only now she realizes her perhaps overt shuffling has drawn attention in the ebb of Tristan's introductions, and she glances down towards the dirt quickly. Nothing she can say will measure against them, so nothing is what they should get. "I," She clears her throat to rid herself of that awkward hesitation. "Aurélie. I'm a fighter."

Duke's Quest

Mine are on saturday and I'm also barely clinging to life.

Duke's Quest

... Not saying that anybody particularly lacks morals or is particularly dishonest, ...

@Fading Memory

I take offense to that! ...Well, not really. I guess Aurélie is more of an armed tramp than a rakish highwaywoman.

Duke's Quest

Aurélie

Better shut it down before I step in, bud. No one wants that.

Name:
Aurélie

Sex:
Female

Culture:
Brittonian

Age:
34

Physical Description:
Aurélie is no taller than your average Brittanian peasant, but that is arguably where most similarities end. Her oaken brown hair tousled and unkempt at shoulder-length, further enhanced by dark eyes, presents a wild, unruly image. Though perhaps not overtly muscular, the woman is stout enough to be considered fit and able. Her wardrobe appears to be recent, with fresh, clean cut fabrics that look more expensive than she’d ever be able to put up. She’d been further equipped with a selection of plate and leather, once again both new and unfitting someone who so clearly belongs among the rabble. Indeed, a true hint to her lot in life is the tattered red cloak bound over her shoulders: Old and ragged, it was no doubt majestic at one point in the woman’s life – now it is a clashing addition to an otherwise clean appearance.

She carries a long knife, a short sword, an arming sword, and a set of iron knuckles.

Occupation/Skillset:
Aurélie is skilled with a variety of weapons and can hold her own against dangerous enemies in a moderately fair fight. While it is doubtful she has ever truly had any formal training, weapons drills or disciplinary education, a life of hardship has driven her to perform well in unorthodox and brutish ways, and she excels against solo combatants because of this adaptive outlook on battle, and her uncanny ability to find a way to fight dirty even in the most fair of fights.

Though it is doubtful she can read, she is generally knowledgeable when it comes to maps, strategy and even underhanded intrigue, though she’s certainly no sneak thief.

Finally, Aurélie has a wealth of knowledge relating to survival, both in the wild and on the street. She has spent long enough alone or struggling to have found the solutions to many of the basic needs a traveler may have.

Personality:
To call this woman anything but a thug would arguably be giving her too much credit. Much like a lion or bear, she carries herself with minimal exertion, and can easily appear lazy at the worst of times, slacking off or complaining about boredom during an assignment. Still, just like the animals, she is prone to fits of rage, and will switch from goofing off to being confrontational with deceptive haste. To make matters worse, she appears fully in the know of how aggravating her behavior can be and will try to get a rise out of people so long as she can get away with it.

She certainly lacks formal education, but her coarse, lazy exterior hides a manipulative woman who is quick enough on the uptake to have survived this long, despite by all accounts being a relative nobody. She will do what she must to survive, and furthermore appears to have some basic decency somewhere deep inside, if only by virtue that she will not stoop to bullying and picking on the weak. She at the very least has a basic concept of honor, if only to mock it. Whatever moral code she has, it’s been warped by years spent in the lowest rungs of society.

Backstory:
Fate can be a fickle thing, if fate is even something to be believed in. Aurélie certainly never has. Put into the world in a stable and spirited away to a cloister, she experienced an upbringing that promised to be as unkind as it was devoted to God. She grew up knowing she was unwanted, and when she started picking fights with the other orphans living around the monastery, it was to no one’s great surprise. Between constantly being in fights, being punished for various misdeeds big and small, and being told there was a world out there that was not for her, it was also to no one’s surprise when she one day vanished from the garden and never came back.

No more than a tramp in a world of farmers, nobility and magi, Aurélie found herself drawn towards the city beyond the hill, Brest, and joined it’s ranks as yet another street rat, a boisterous parasite on the well-meaning citizens of Brittany. What few contacts she made during her growing years, she simply added to the list of people that would eventually try to punch, kill or steal from her. When she had grown old enough to pretend to be old enough to get into real danger, she quickly found herself in the employ of street thugs, running errands and back up during altercations. She became an enforcer, a messenger, and a criminal. How she made the transition from street brawler to mercenary is up in the air, but it is all too likely that she simply ran away when the guards came calling, and found work that suited her penchant for violence.

She resurfaced in several different places over Brittany and Provence, doing odd jobs and guard work for whoever would pay. Perhaps most surprisingly, she seemingly transitioned entirely from her earlier life of small-time crime to land in the employ of dubious fighters for hire, city guards, and paying merchants.
While by no means a legend, Aurélie has participated in enough small scale violence over the years to earn herself a solid reputation as a thug for hire, and someone reliable enough to stand by her employer, even if those same stories have nothing pleasant to say about the woman beyond her assorted skills.

And so it was that fate – were one to believe in such a thing – had placed Aurélie in the Duke’s sphere of influence, returned to Brest and in the occasional employ of people vaguely to do with courtly affairs. When the call came to assemble a grand party to rescue a dame, a handful of guards in the Duke’s livery came to ‘offer’ Aurélie a prestigious chance to help. Surely succeeding in such a quest would elevate her out of her endless struggle.

Duke's Quest

I am throwing my proverbial hat into the proverbial ring. Consider this a declaration of considerable interest, I suppose!

Aurélie

Better shut it down before I step in, bud. No one wants that.

Name:
Aurélie

Sex:
Female

Culture:
Brittonian

Age:
34

Physical Description:
Aurélie is no taller than your average Brittanian peasant, but that is arguably where most similarities end. Her oaken brown hair tousled and unkempt at shoulder-length, further enhanced by dark eyes, presents a wild, unruly image. Though perhaps not overtly muscular, the woman is stout enough to be considered fit and able. Her wardrobe appears to be recent, with fresh, clean cut fabrics that look more expensive than she’d ever be able to put up. She’d been further equipped with a selection of plate and leather, once again both new and unfitting someone who so clearly belongs among the rabble. Indeed, a true hint to her lot in life is the tattered red cloak bound over her shoulders: Old and ragged, it was no doubt majestic at one point in the woman’s life – now it is a clashing addition to an otherwise clean appearance.

She carries a long knife, a short sword, an arming sword, and a set of iron knuckles.

Occupation/Skillset:
Aurélie is skilled with a variety of weapons and can hold her own against dangerous enemies in a moderately fair fight. While it is doubtful she has ever truly had any formal training, weapons drills or disciplinary education, a life of hardship has driven her to perform well in unorthodox and brutish ways, and she excels against solo combatants because of this adaptive outlook on battle, and her uncanny ability to find a way to fight dirty even in the most fair of fights.

Though it is doubtful she can read, she is generally knowledgeable when it comes to maps, strategy and even underhanded intrigue, though she’s certainly no sneak thief.

Finally, Aurélie has a wealth of knowledge relating to survival, both in the wild and on the street. She has spent long enough alone or struggling to have found the solutions to many of the basic needs a traveler may have.

Personality:
To call this woman anything but a thug would arguably be giving her too much credit. Much like a lion or bear, she carries herself with minimal exertion, and can easily appear lazy at the worst of times, slacking off or complaining about boredom during an assignment. Still, just like the animals, she is prone to fits of rage, and will switch from goofing off to being confrontational with deceptive haste. To make matters worse, she appears fully in the know of how aggravating her behavior can be and will try to get a rise out of people so long as she can get away with it.

She certainly lacks formal education, but her coarse, lazy exterior hides a manipulative woman who is quick enough on the uptake to have survived this long, despite by all accounts being a relative nobody. She will do what she must to survive, and furthermore appears to have some basic decency somewhere deep inside, if only by virtue that she will not stoop to bullying and picking on the weak. She at the very least has a basic concept of honor, if only to mock it. Whatever moral code she has, it’s been warped by years spent in the lowest rungs of society.

Backstory:
Fate can be a fickle thing, if fate is even something to be believed in. Aurélie certainly never has. Put into the world in a stable and spirited away to a cloister, she experienced an upbringing that promised to be as unkind as it was devoted to God. She grew up knowing she was unwanted, and when she started picking fights with the other orphans living around the monastery, it was to no one’s great surprise. Between constantly being in fights, being punished for various misdeeds big and small, and being told there was a world out there that was not for her, it was also to no one’s surprise when she one day vanished from the garden and never came back.

No more than a tramp in a world of farmers, nobility and magi, Aurélie found herself drawn towards the city beyond the hill, Brest, and joined it’s ranks as yet another street rat, a boisterous parasite on the well-meaning citizens of Brittany. What few contacts she made during her growing years, she simply added to the list of people that would eventually try to punch, kill or steal from her. When she had grown old enough to pretend to be old enough to get into real danger, she quickly found herself in the employ of street thugs, running errands and back up during altercations. She became an enforcer, a messenger, and a criminal. How she made the transition from street brawler to mercenary is up in the air, but it is all too likely that she simply ran away when the guards came calling, and found work that suited her penchant for violence.

She resurfaced in several different places over Brittany and Provence, doing odd jobs and guard work for whoever would pay. Perhaps most surprisingly, she seemingly transitioned entirely from her earlier life of small-time crime to land in the employ of dubious fighters for hire, city guards, and paying merchants.
While by no means a legend, Aurélie has participated in enough small scale violence over the years to earn herself a solid reputation as a thug for hire, and someone reliable enough to stand by her employer, even if those same stories have nothing pleasant to say about the woman beyond her assorted skills.

And so it was that fate – were one to believe in such a thing – had placed Aurélie in the Duke’s sphere of influence, returned to Brest and in the occasional employ of people vaguely to do with courtly affairs. When the call came to assemble a grand party to rescue a dame, a handful of guards in the Duke’s livery came to ‘offer’ Aurélie a prestigious chance to help. Surely succeeding in such a quest would elevate her out of her endless struggle.