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Author Topic: Filayna Autumn Emerstone / Centoraurian / Heiress  (Read 6196 times)
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Filayna Autumn Emerstone
Equestrian Lady
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Human, Centoraurian


« on: May 01, 2012, 02:15:46 PM »


Introduction

Name: Filayna Autumn Emerstone

Gender: Female

Age: 17

Race: Human

Tribe: Centoraurian

Occupation: Heiress

Title: Equestrian Lady

Character Portrait:

Overview: I was born the poor daughter of a horse-rearer and a herbalist in the heart of the Aurora Plains. Seventeen years later, I have found myself extraordinarily wealthy and alone in the world, my parents and close relatives gone. Wishing to change my place of residence, I set out on my own into the Kingdom of Santharia, and hope to find myself along the way.



Appearance

Height: 1 Ped, 1 Fore, 2 Palmspans, 4 Nailsbreadths.

Weight: 9 Hebs, 1 Hafeb, 4 Ods

Hair Color: Light Brown

Eye Color: Korwyn Gold

Physical Appearance: When my grandmother began to fashion me into a lady of high society, she noted that my physical appearance, at least, needed relatively little work. I've always been rather petite--a quality I inherited from my mother. When I was young, my skin darkened under the sun, but since I've become a ‘lady', it has lightened considerably. My light brown, almost golden, eyes and youthful face, however, have always stayed the same. I look quite young, even for my age, which has occasionally garnered trouble in soliciting respect.

My brown hair is rather long. My mother cut it when I was little to keep it short, but since I came to live with my grandmother, it has grown, and now dangles nearly to my waist, save for the strands about my face. I prefer to keep it up--in braids, buns, twists, and other such fashions. At first, the handmaiden would do it up for me, but I soon learned to do it myself, though occasionally the result is somewhat poor. I try to keep it neat, at least--like everything else about me, including my nails and dress.

Clothing: As a young child, I cared little for clothing: it was there to protect me from scratches and scrapes, and I outgrew it (or wore it out) too quickly for it to be of much use to me. When I came to live with Grandmother Cherise, she taught me how to appreciate nice clothing, and she bought me dresses and shoes and handbags and hats, and I fancy them, despite myself. They look lovely, all of them: one of my favorite is a summery, sky-blue dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves that I wore at my first ball in high society. While I like to carry it with me for special occasions, it is impractical for much else.

When traveling, I prefer clothing that, while hardier than my summery dress, doesn't come off as boorish or rough. I keep form with a stay over which I wear a waistcoat under a finely-sewn jacket. I wear soft, modest petticoats that fall neatly to the ground. Trimmings of white lace and bronze buttons decorate cloth of autumn-hued mercoral. It matches a finely crafted hat embellished with a sprig of dried flowers. A thin belt sometimes girds the waist, matching black, ankle-high leather boots. A discrete purse completes the look.



Personality and Abilities

Personality: I used to be such a wild child: riding horses, helping my mother in the garden, exploring the woods and playing in the trees. I was growing wild in the plains of Santharia, vining out into tangled masses of allia and clove. I suppose the last several years have transformed me into a well-kept garden. Occasionally my roses rebel and I press against the woven trellis of society; I like to think my gardens all the more lovely for it, but I get the feeling the others don't think so.

The losses I have suffered have been like sudden, raging storms: sometimes dry lightning frightening the buds from bloom, sometimes rain flooding out the little sprouts--sometimes both. But my spirit is, I think, quite like it was when I was young (and perhaps I've grown into some of my father's old dreams of horses and travel). I am invigorated by the new freedom I've finally fallen into, and I'm eager to explore it, to grow into it. I'm certain Grandmother Cherise would rather I begin looking for a husband, but she is gone and I am young and there is so much yet to see.

While I've adopted the manners of high society, I would not call myself social. I can be rather honest with people, though I like to think I am kind, as well. I would rather say nothing than tell a lie, for my father believed lies were the fastest way to poison one's integrity, and I quite agree. My father taught me right from wrong, and instilled the value of doing right by people, regardless of who they are or where they come from. I carry those values with me.

My mother, of course, taught me compassion. As the village healer, she never turned anyone away; she would treat for free those who could not afford it, and would occasionally give away her tinctures and ointments to people on the street whom she barely knew. We're all on this disk together, she would tell me, and it's a hard life: we might as well help one another. I try to follow her lessons as best I can, ignoring the oppressive frugality of Grandmother Cherise.

There's a lot Grandmother Cherise tried to teach me that I learned begrudgingly, but there are some things I have striven to pick up from her: particularly her discernment. She was as adept at identifying good-quality fabrics and materials as she was good-quality people--though of course she never ignored their faults. But no one is perfect, not even Grandmother Cherise, and certainly not me. Who am I to judge?

I am occasionally rather reticent, to be sure, but never without my optimism or ambition. My aunt Dorothea encouraged me to make the most of the life I've been given. I am dedicated to doing just that.

Strengths

  • Horse-Rider: My father raised horses, and when he was alive, taught me all there was to know about them: not only what they needed and how to ride them, but how to listen to them, to read the gestures of their ears and the motions of their bodies. I judge myself to be a fairly proficient rider in various styles, and good at communicating with the graceful creatures.

  • Novice Herbalist: My mother was an herbalist, and while I know only a fraction of the herbs she did, I know enough to treat a handful of ailments. I have watched her prepare hundreds of different herbs, and while I lack her knowledge and skill, I know enough to make a variety of medicinal teas, ointments, and tinctures. I am not expert, of course, but I get by.

  • Educated: My parents, particularly my mother, instilled in me a love of learning. My mother taught me at first, and I attended school briefly when I was eight, though I quickly dropped out and began evening study. My education expanded considerably under Grandmother Cherise, who ensured I knew all that a young lady should know--not just manners, but history; not just dance, but geography; not just dinner conversation, but the intricacies of politics.

  • Wealthy: I inherited a great deal from my Grandmother Cherise, who owned prosperous land in the Aurora Plains. Her manor in Salsair is renown, not necessarily as being the largest, but certainly one of the finest. Her fortune allows me to live comfortably without needing to work.

  • Hard-working: Though wealthy, I would by no means call myself a lady of leisure; the lifestyle doesn't suit me. I'm a hard worker, and quite dedicated to keeping myself busy regardless of my occupation (or lack thereof, I suppose).

  • Adaptive: I very quickly went from extraordinarily poor to enormously wealthy. It was a rocky change, but one I adapted to with great celerity--and, if need be, I could adapt again. Any place I go, any situation in which I find myself, I will gladly adapt to, for I am accustomed to change.

Weaknesses

  • Weak: When I was younger, I used to climb and run and play throughout the day. Now that I am older, I have grown a bit weaker. I am certainly unable to tote a sword or axe like some battle-crazed knight. It is quite likely I could be easily overpowered--but I prefer not to think of such things.

  • Heart Issues: Since I was little, I've had something of a weak heart. Occasionally the beats become soft, and on occasion, and my head swims a little, as though a misty fog had settled over me. I've even fainted. Though I take a tincture to ward off the condition, it still comes on every once in a while, particularly in stressful situations.

  • Independent: I admit that, since I've discovered freedom--specifically freedom from Grandmother Cherise--I've been eager to keep it. It's perhaps one reason why I've avoided suitors and marriage. I simply wish to explore and see the world, the way my father always wished he could.

  • Young: I appear quite young, which frequently makes it difficult to be taken seriously. Though I am 17, quickly approaching 18, I suppose I look closer to 14. It is rather frustrating at times when people still judge you to be a girl when you are clearly a woman, but I suppose there is little to be done until I grow older.

  • Alone: All the close family I've ever known (my mother, father, aunt, and grandparents) are dead and gone, and I am quite alone in the world. I still have friends, but none that I can very much depend on, for many of them are superficial socialites. There is no one to fall back on, and I cannot deny feeling a bit lonely at times.

  • Fire Anxiety: I judge a hearth to be a warm and comforting place, so long as I don't have to build the fire myself, and candles are lovely with their assiduous beams lighting out the darkness. Even campfires are likely all right, as long as I keep my distance, but they fill me with a strange anxiety. Fire and the magic-folk who wield it make me a bit nervous, I dare say.



History

If you seek out the house where I was born, you will not find much.

Down near an empty pasture, in the heart of the Aurora Plain, all you are likely to find is a run-down old farmer's place, with vines crawling through the wood panels where the mildew and moss make it soft. The shingles will likely be all but gone from the roof, and the windows, broken. In many ways, it hasn't changed much.

Pa was never much for home repairs. He raised and tamed horses, and must have had nomadic blood coursing through his big heart: he would much rather abandon the old place than fix it. But we never abandoned it, and he never fixed it, so quickly fell into disrepair. In his younger years, my grandpa Jaek would occasionally fix things up--he was an old farmer, and accustomed to the work. But as he got older, he had to give that up, and so my mother would devise clever "temporary solutions" (which were "temporary" in that the lasted only until another "temporary solution" could be devised and executed).

Not to say my father was lazy: he was a hard-working man, who rose at sunrise and worked until it was too dark to see by. He would feed the horses, take them in from and out to pasture, shoe them and tame them, and sometimes ride out with them in the rolling pastures around our dilapidated home. Other horse-rearing folks came from all around for his advice and methods for taming wild mares and stallions. Every year, when the chill was just beginning to taint the air, he would go with the other horse-rearers to Voldar to sell his horses to knights and nobles.

He didn't sell all of them, though. When I was seven, he saved one for me. Now, I'd ridden all my life: when I was three, Pa sat me on his big old stallion Sal who was strong as an ox and gentle as a cerubell bloom, and ever since then I've felt more at home on a horse than on my own two feet. When he gave me a horse of my own--a petite, dappled mare--I was utterly delighted. I named her Auni. I rose with my father at sunrise to feed her, and I took her out to the pastures and brought her in, and my father taught me how to speak to her--and how to listen.

When I was ten, he left for Voldar to sell horses and never came home. One of our neighbors came to tell us he'd been killed--thrown off his horse in a scuffle and sent hard against the ground, so hard he cracked his skull and died. I never quite believed he was gone, not even when I journeyed to the place they buried him, beneath an Ashwude tree, where his companions had set up a large stone to mark the spot.

It's hard to say that was the end of my childhood. Like I said, I never quite believed he was gone. I always felt like he was there with me when, every day, I would get up at sunrise and take the horses to pasture.

***

Ma was an herbalist, and served as the community's primary healer and medicine woman. She was no mage or witch or wielder of magic, but she knew every plant that grew in the pastures and woods. She knew how to treat them: cut, dried, simmered, steeped, tinctured, mixed, bottled, and used, she could do it all. She had remedies for swollen fingers and heart tremors, toe fungus and swollen ankles, sleeplessness and incontinence, acne and fever. Bottles of sweet and sometimes foul-smelling concoctions lined shelf after shelf in our rickety house. It's a miracle the shelves never gave out.

And while the house was rickety, her garden was well-kept: it was doubtless in better condition than the structure beside it. My father had been an eccentric dreamer all his days--talking about traveling far and wide through the kingdom--but my mother was certainly an eccentric idealists who wanted to ensure everyone was happy and healthy.

I suppose this was a good thing, but it led my mother to pushing the boundaries of polite conversation. Her first question when anyone stopped by was about their digestive health--and she would ask all the details of color and consistency to the point it made me disgusted as much as embarrassed. When my mother began sending me to school when I was eight, I never brought classmates or friends home to her, for though I loved her, I was terribly fearful for what she might say.

After Pa died, we somehow managed to carry on. I stopped going to school during the day to help care for the horses. I worked from sunrise to sunset, and Ma schooled me in the evening. When she ran out of things to teach me, she gave me my grandmother's old books, and they became my quiet teachers. Those years were rough. There were days, usually in the evening, that I would sneak away, riding Auni out to the highest point in the county so I could watch the western sunset, and see if I couldn't see Pa coming home.

When I was 12, my mother suffered two tragedies that precipitated our moving out of the old house where I was born. One was the death of my grandpa, her father. He had risen to relieve himself and was heading back when his heart gave out. The next morning we found him in the grass, the dew laying softly across the thin strands of his hair. We buried him near my mother's garden.

The second tragedy was my reaching puberty.

It was all just a bit too much for my mother. She sold the pastures and all our horses to our neighbor--all but Auni. Auni led the cart we bought, and in this way pulled all our earthly belongings to the house of my father's family. Perhaps it was all for the best, but sitting on that cart and watching the house and pastures disappear, all I could think was that it felt like the end of the world.

***

My father had been a dreamer and a man of the earth, but his mother, my grandmother Cherise, was a woman of high society. I had never met her, and Pa never spoke of her. Fed up with her dictatorial style, her insistence on manners and the importance of society, he had rebelled and moved off to raise horses.

In all my life, I hadn't imagined wealth like Grandmother Cherise's; she lived in a mansion of an estate in Salsair, filled with exquisite paintings and furniture. It wasn't at all what I would have expected from my father's mother, and I would have questioned their relation if not for the stubborn chin and high cheekbones they share (I share them, too). She had hard eyes and a harder disposition, and it didn't take me long to learn why my father had rebelled against her. I frequently thought about doing the same.

But I didn't. It was misery living with her, particularly as she began fashioning me to be a ‘lady': she taught me manners, decorum, dance--and imbued me with the tastes and knowledge I needed to thrive in high society. I was to sit up straight, talk correctly, and move with grace. When I glided across a room under the critical stare of Grandmother Cherise, I used to imagine horses. Imagining was all I could do now: she made me sell my dapple mare Auni, and I never saw my horse again.

While I was kept cooped up in study and training, my mother was more or less left to her own devices. Grandmother Cherise never really accepted her, and my mother contented herself to live among the maids and gardeners that kept the estate. I was not permitted to see her, for Grandmother Cherise believed her to be a poor influence. As the last real heir to Grandmother Cherise's enormous fortune, I suppose she wanted to protect me and endow me with the talents necessary attract some snooty, high-class bachelor.

So I didn't learn until about a month afterward, when I sought to replenish the tincture my mother made me for my weak heart, that she had begun to deteriorate. Physically she was fine at first, but mentally, she had begun to go. Absent-mindedness turned to forgetfulness, and whimsical fancies, to hallucinations. Soon after this, her mind began to throw a shadow across her body, and she weakened. I don't know what took her at last, but before I turned 14, she drifted away from her thinning body, and we laid it into the earth for her.

The whole miserable, lonely ordeal was made easier by Dorothea, my aunt, who, at 37, had never married and was never likely to. She was a sweet, soft-spoken woman--almost a girl in some ways--who had always lived under the oppressive stare of her mother. In Grandmother Cherise's eye, no man was ever good enough for her precious Dorothea, and so her daughter grew into a spinster until even Grandmother Cherise grew weary of her.

In fact, I believed Grandmother Cherise had grown so weary that, when Aunt Dorothea threw herself out the window one winter's night when I was 15, she didn't blink an eye: she was more concerned with covering up the unfortunate affair as an accident. It wasn't, and I knew so because my aunt had left me a note. It was long and blatantly honest, but the last line summed her message well: “I have wasted my life. Don't waste yours.”

I keep the letter still. I know it by heart, of course, but sometimes, when my fingers press it accidentally, or my eyes drift to it unintentionally, I am reminded of her message, and it emboldens me.

***

In truth, though, Dorothea's death damaged Grandmother Cherise. She aged quickly over the next year or so: her eyes grew sunken and vacant, and her complexion became gaunt under the fard she used over her cheeks. She grew softer and kinder, and more concerned than ever of my education. I think that having a project like myself somehow sustained her. She introduced me to her financier and lawyers, who informed me of the various assets I would come to inherit.

I turned 16 and, at last, Grandmother Cherise threw a lovely summer ball where she introduced me to her friends and our distant relations. I wore a sky-blue summer dress that I had fought Grandmother Cherise to buy me, because the color reminded me of the sky beneath the pastures of my childhood home. I was approached by more people than I could count, mainly by young gentleman who seemed eager to dance with me. I remember the night being beautifully exhausting.

Less than a month later, Grandmother Cherise died. She expired in her old armchair, reading Monsonius by the hearth. I think she must have died anxious, wondering what would become of her estate. Her financier helped me make the funeral arrangements, and all high society came as we lowered her in the ground. I didn't cry or feel sorrow as I did when my mother passed. But I was not wholly without emotion. In all the time I had known her, Grandmother Cherise had been strict and critical, and I suppose this endowed me with a strange kind of dedication: I wanted to prove to her I could do everything without her--with more kindness and more grace.

Grandmother Cherise was the last of my close family. Now, everyone I know--everyone who cared for me--is dead. I have friends, of course--gentleman and ladies of my grandmother's societal circles. And I am extraordinarily wealthy, being the sole heiress of my grandmother's fortune. Sitting in the drawing room of the estate, I recall looking through the window to where the aelierels were singing in the meldarapple trees. Ten years ago, I had been the poor daughter of a horse-rearer and an herbalist; now, I was a lady, and the enormity of the transformation astounded me.

Since Grandmother Cherise has passed on, suitors come weekly to my door, and I suppose most are interested in wedding me for my fortune. I am tired of all of them, of everyone in Salsair, and wish to reside here no more. I am setting out to explore Santharia and see if I can't find some place where the people are sincere, where the sorrows of the past will not follow: perhaps somewhere with blue sky, gentle sunlight, warm rain, and spaces to ride.

I purchased a horse, a stallion named Seph, and will set out to discover a bit of the world. Perhaps I will discover myself somewhere along the way.



Accessories

Belongings: I carry, of course, an extra change of clothes and dried viands for the road, along with water. Apart from these basics, I take a few healing herbs and a number of ointments and tinctures, including one I take daily for my heart. I take a leather-bound journal, into which I sometimes place the letter from my Aunt Dorothea, and money, as well. There is little more I need.

Familiars:

   Name: Seph (short for Sephet)

Gender: Male

Age: 3

Breed: Centoraurian Horse

Appearance: Seph is a rather lovely horse, with the graceful beauty the breed is known for, but with a bit more of the strength and build, being closer to 16 hands at the withers. He's almost completely black, with white stockings, a white star on his forehead, and a white wisp on his nose.

History: I found Seph just outside of Salsair, where a breeder I met had come to sell his horses. Seph was one of the wild stallions that the owner was trying to break in--without much success. I saw the dark horse thrashing and kicking like a storm in the ring, and the owner seemed quite fed up with the recalcitrant creature. When I offered to purchase the horse, the owner seemed hesitant at first, and why shouldn't he? A petite woman like me looking to purchase a wild stallion? Still, he didn't seem at all unwilling, and I got a very good price for him.

When I stepped into the ring to fetch him, the owner gave me a good-intentioned warning, telling me that he was called Seph, short for Sephet, because he was meaner than a Sephet demon. You should have seen how the owner's expression changed when, after a few moments, I had calmed the great animal, and led him calmly out of the ring on my way back home.

I spent a few weeks after that training him--which I admit took a great deal of patience, but I dare say I'm fond of his spirit and wiliness. He's extremely temperamental and does not seem fond of a soul but me. But he can be wonderfully sweet, and my goodness, is he fast! He is quite capable, I think, of taking me wherever I need to go, with strength enough to carry my belongings, as well.
« Last Edit: May 13, 2012, 01:50:35 PM by Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged
Tak
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« Reply #1 on: May 05, 2012, 12:48:55 AM »

Hello Filayna.  I'm Tak, I'll be reviewing your CD today!

I've read through your CD (albeit quickly), and so far only one real red flag has popped up.

Your character is a 17-year old girl traveling the world by herself.  And she wasn't born strictly living off the land, and she didn't grow up a "tough" girl, but a fancy one.  I find it hard to believe that she would last very long on her own, especially given that she appears to be fairly naive.  How does she stay safe on the road being a pretty girl who travels alone?  

EDIT:  Whoops, your character did start out fairly poor, but that doesn't undermine much of my point: Being a 17 year old girl traveling the world alone.

Other than that I have a few nit-picky details:

I like the "Fire Anxiety" weakness; however, is there a particular reason why she is afraid of fire in general?  Traumatic childhood experience?  That should get a passing mention in your history.

I am a bit uncertain about the land you have inherited.  I'm fine with a large lot of land, but having it scattered across Santharia might be a stretch.  There is no real way to maintain and manage a lot of land that's spread out, verses a lot of land that's all in one place.  I'm not sure how land ownership works in Caelereth (and, as usual, a site search turned up very little useful information) I will do some more research and get back to you on this, but it is only a small thing, and one easily fixed.  

« Last Edit: May 05, 2012, 12:51:24 AM by Tak » Logged


"There’s Nothing Worth Doing That Isn’t Worth Overdoing" - Tak "The Magnificent"
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« Reply #2 on: May 05, 2012, 08:51:27 AM »

As a quick note: Santharia is actually a pretty safe place, all in all. I won't say it's always been safe, but for the last hundred years or so, at least, it's been a pretty peaceful place to live. Most provinces likely have knights to help keep order, and probably have something akin to a judicial system. While 17 is pretty young, particular for a female, to go traveling around, it's probably not completely unheard of, as long as she has reason.
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Filayna Autumn Emerstone
Equestrian Lady
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« Reply #3 on: May 05, 2012, 01:10:53 PM »

Thank you, Tak, for looking at my CD! I know it's a bit long, and I do appreciate you providing comments.

Santharia takes place in a Middle Ages/Renaissance like time, doesn't it? I may be mistaken, but I believe that 17 during the middle ages was quite an adult! Women were wedded then, and years younger. Rayne mentioned that Santharia as a kingdom was fairly safe, and Filayna does have sense about her, being--as you mentioned--born into a peasant's life. Like many Centoraurians, she's rather rebellious, and she wishes to be on the move, hence why she desires to leave (an inclination no doubt inherited from her father). Perhaps it is a bit unsafe--but she doesn't much care, and there is no longer anyone around to stop her from exploring the country, as she has no guardian any longer. I'm not sure if I have satisfied your concerns or not--I'm sorry! I would like to keep her age, if possible.

With regards to the Fire Anxiety--need there be a reason? I admit to being a little anxious of fire myself, without anything in my past to warrant it. Fire, after all, is chaotic, dangerous, hot, and painful. Perhaps one might fear fire simply because it is... well... fire? It is a rather frightening element in and of itself!

With regards to the land--I suppose I assumed much of it would be "rented", so to speak, to farmers and other such folk, and the finances and whatnot would be maintained by the lawyers Filayna was introduced to before her Grandmother Cherise passed away. As far as how it was acquired, I assumed marriages between minor nobles--a minor noble of one province marrying a minor noble from another, and their offspring marrying a noble from yet another province. I admit, though, that I am at a loss as to if this is a reasonable assumption about land accumulation in Santharia, or even in the time in which Santharia seems to take place.

I must seem terribly obstinate. I apologize. Please let me know your concerns, and if there's anything more amiss, please don't hesitate to mention it!
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Tak
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« Reply #4 on: May 05, 2012, 11:39:21 PM »

You ARE terribly obstinate!  It's ok, so am I.  It's not a bad trait, surely.  Unfortunatly, being obstinate means you have to deal with me a bit longer, since some of the things I pointed out are still problematic.

Don't worry, I will try to let you stay obstinate if I can.

Lets address this by ease of explanation (on my part).



Fire aversion: 

Meh, I'll let it pass.  I still think the aversion needs an explanation, or it should be a full on phobia and not an aversion, but I don't feel that it severely damages the plausibility of your character. (And I’m going to be a stickler about the other two issues I brought up).

Young and traveling: 

Who said anything about changing her age?  Please keep her 17, I wouldn't dream of making you age her a day (or make her a day younger for that matter).

Being born poor does not give one sense.  Actually, for the majority of the time, being poor then thrust into wealth is a recipe for disaster, but I'm not going to pick on that since you did a marvelous job explaining her education and how she took the wealth in stride. grin

My concern is how she deals with danger when it arises.  Santharia may be fairly safe, but it's not perfect and there are criminals in this world as there are in any world.  Only here we have to deal with dark elves and orcs as well. 

I suppose my issue isn't that she's young, a girl, and traveling, but that she sees it as perfectly fine and that there is no danger to it at all.  Filayna is smart, she should acknowledge that there is some danger in what she is doing.

Land:

The reason I bring up the land is really an issue of plausibility and corruption.  I'm fine with her owning a lot of land.  I'm concerned about how wide spread it is. 

Consider this as an example: Say I own a lot of land in France.  I live on it and can actively manage it.  Corruption is minimal.  I buy land in Germany.  It's close, but I can't visit it too often, I have to have someone else manage it (In a different country, with different people, government, rules, regulations, taxes, ect).  Corruption abounds on that land.  Rinse and repeat for every lot of land you have in another country.  It makes more business sense to keep land close so you can oversee it.

Now, put this in Santhaira with your character.  Assuming your characters grandmother acquired it because she is financially savvy, It wouldn't be too spread out to avoid corruption and for sheer simplicity.  Surely not more than a few days ride away.  Marriages to minor nobles is fine but the land would get split again upon having children, marriage, or death.  And if it's acquired through nobility marrying, then how did the grandmother end up with it all?

Also, if you go the Lord/Lady route I will caution you with this little tidbit from the restrictions page:

  • Lord/Lady: May be allowed if there are no abnormalities in the family (eg. the entire family dying, a rebellion occurring, etc.).

I'd let the above pass if Filayna were a minor noble with minimal land, but it doesn't sound like that's the case

As your CD stands, your characters family could be rich or could be from the nobility.  Rich is easier for your character as it is, though rich means consolidating your lands.

To stay obstinate: If you can explain it, or another mod gives you a pass, then I'm fine with it. But if you can't explain it you don't need the land to be spread out for your character to have wanderlust.



I am so sorry for my long ranting, I know it's hard and that I am nit-picking, I feel like a monster.  If you still feel like being obstinate, and can get other mods to back you up, I will happily agree to disagree.
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« Reply #5 on: May 06, 2012, 05:25:24 AM »

Like Tak, I'm dubious about the practicalities of owning large swathes of land across Santharia. Not only would your grandmother have had to have been very rich to have many substantial estates, land doesn't really get acquired that way, and not at such a spread. If you had, say, one main estate of your grandmother's and then another fairly sizeable one elsewhere, and a trusted estate manager, you might avoid all the inefficiency and other problems that Tak raised, while still being able to say you set out, first to visit that estate and then to wherever your horse takes you.

Looking very nice thus far, though.

Leif.
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Leif Terskun
Deklitch Hardin
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« Reply #6 on: May 06, 2012, 07:02:10 AM »

Hi Filayna,

I love your picture! Did you do it yourself, or do you have someone who made it for you?

I also love the way you write.

Hope to see you approved and rping quickly,

Dek
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« Reply #7 on: May 06, 2012, 01:14:57 PM »

You don't necessarily need the land for traveling. I'm sure Filayna's grandmother had a number of connections, not just in Salsair, but in a number of places. It might be prudent to visit some of these contacts and perhaps inform them of her death. Or, given Filayna's beauty, perhaps she's been invited to visit houses outside Salsair (or, perhaps she's been told suitors from those households may be visiting, and has offered to visit their houses instead, effectively putting the interaction on her terms).

It would seem likely that Filayna's grandmother owned lands around Salsair, in which case it might be likely that she would own lands nearby where horses are bred or wheat is grown. Perhaps she might travel to the cities where the horses or wheat are sold to learn more about their buying and selling?

Or, it could be that she wishes to redecorate the house she now lives in and is traveling wide for furniture and goods for that purpose, or maybe even that she wishes to move out of Salsair, selling the estate and moving to somewhere that doesn't have as many bad memories (it seems that the house in which she lives, while nice, has been the scene of many deaths and much misery).

I think you have a few other options besides having lands spread to and fro across the kingdom. Hopefully one of these will work for you.  :)


In terms of her age and traveling: Keep in mind that Termat's character is 16 or 17 and traveling. Granted, he's equipped with a sword and he happens to be male, but still. And I'm not sure fire anxiety needs an explanation in the same way fire phobia does, but that's just me.  buck
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Deklitch Hardin
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« Reply #8 on: May 06, 2012, 04:07:00 PM »

And if she did need some protection while on the road, she could umm 'encourage' some muscle bound fighter types to provide said protection in exchange for recompense of some appropriate kind. I leave it to you to describe the form of the encouragement of recompense.

Maybe she also has contacts amongst the merchants/manufacturers (not really a medieval word, but you know what I mean, I think, people that make goods) elsewhere who make products out of crops/animals grown on the lands she has that she needs to go to see to make sure they are doing the right thing by herself and her lands.
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Leif Terskun
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« Reply #9 on: May 06, 2012, 05:27:16 PM »

Termat is indeed 17, wealthy and travelling, while only moderately competent, if that. Leif is also 17. I've no problem with your age, personally, but I agree with Tak that you do seem a little unconcerned for a rich, nigh-defenceless young lady. Everything about you screams vulnerable - pretty, small, looking younger than you are, wealthy. To be completely honest, if you want simply to accept that you could possibly get away with it - I certainly don't want you to change her age or character - and just have a couple of guards that you can dismiss when you enter a story.

Leif.
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Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
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« Reply #10 on: May 07, 2012, 12:00:11 AM »

Just a quick poke of my head to say this is a wonderful CD and your writing style is beautiful.  Hope to see this approved soon. :D

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But we never abandoned it, and he never fix it, so quickly fell into disrepair.

Should be fixed.

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Filayna Autumn Emerstone
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« Reply #11 on: May 07, 2012, 02:44:38 PM »

Sorry for the delay. I've been a bit busy, and wanted time to properly respond to all the comments. Thank you for all the help.

I suppose my issue isn't that she's young, a girl, and traveling, but that she sees it as perfectly fine and that there is no danger to it at all.  Filayna is smart, she should acknowledge that there is some danger in what she is doing.

I think I may be confused as to what you would like me to change. I don't think she sees it as completely without danger, but the focus and tone I intend is really meant to resemble a bird suddenly loosed from the cage, not a sloth considering its next movement through the trees. She's a bit headstrong, a trait she and I no doubt share, and is hopeful about the future, not fearful--and why should she be? There is no one to mourn her death should Queprur take her on the road (somewhat morbid, I admit, but unfortunately true!).


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Consider this as an example: Say I own a lot of land in France.  I live on it and can actively manage it.  Corruption is minimal.  I buy land in Germany.  It's close, but I can't visit it too often, I have to have someone else manage it (In a different country, with different people, government, rules, regulations, taxes, ect).  Corruption abounds on that  land.  Rinse and repeat for every lot of land you have in another country.  It makes more business sense to keep land close so you can oversee it.

I had intended this to be the purpose of all the lawyers Grandmother Cherise has her meet (and if I might kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, and address one of Lief's comments: these would be the trusted estate managers). I really wanted the land spread out, but I will take Alyr (Rayne)'s suggestion and have her venturing out on the pretense of searching for a new residence. I have made appropriate changes in yellow. Hopefully these meet with your approval. I have allowed Grandmother Cherise to have one bit of land in the Aurora Plain. I hope this is all right.


Quote
To stay obstinate: If you can explain it, or another mod gives you a pass, then I'm fine with it. But if you can't explain it you don't need the land to be spread out for your character to have wanderlust.

I thought I did explain it: marriage between nobles. I suppose it does not matter much no, as I have changed things based upon suggestions, but I'm concerned that my explanations seem to be getting lost somewhere.


Termat is indeed 17, wealthy and travelling, while only moderately competent, if that. Leif is also 17. I've no problem with your age, personally, but I agree with Tak that you do seem a little unconcerned for a rich, nigh-defenceless young lady. Everything about you screams vulnerable - pretty, small, looking younger than you are, wealthy. To be completely honest, if you want simply to accept that you could possibly get away with it - I certainly don't want you to change her age or character - and just have a couple of guards that you can dismiss when you enter a story.

Filayna is a lady by training, but not by birth. It's in her nature to seek freedom--after all, she is a Centoraurian, who are noted as being a rather rebellious, freedom-loving people. Having guards about her would be like stones to her spirit--it's not in her nature to have them. I do have "independence" listed as a weakness. Besides, upon Seph, she would be difficult to catch!


I love your picture! Did you do it yourself, or do you have someone who made it for you?
Thank you, Deklitch! I wish I could claim credit, but I cannot: I am not nearly so talented. The credit goes to Cris Ortega, whose beautiful images I have used for many of my characters (on other RPG sites). I love her work--her subjects seem to have so much depth to them: I am quite certain I have spent hours looking at them.


I also love the way you write.

Just a quick poke of my head to say this is a wonderful CD and your writing style is beautiful.

Thank you, Deklitch and Altario! With all the trouble I seem to be tumbling into, it's encouraging to know I'm doing something right. I really appreciate the compliments. Thank you again.
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« Reply #12 on: May 12, 2012, 05:01:20 PM »

Quote
Quote
Consider this as an example: Say I own a lot of land in France.  I live on it and can actively manage it.  Corruption is minimal.  I buy land in Germany.  It's close, but I can't visit it too often, I have to have someone else manage it (In a different country, with different people, government, rules, regulations, taxes, ect).  Corruption abounds on that  land.  Rinse and repeat for every lot of land you have in another country.  It makes more business sense to keep land close so you can oversee it.

I had intended this to be the purpose of all the lawyers Grandmother Cherise has her meet (and if I might kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, and address one of Lief's comments: these would be the trusted estate managers). I really wanted the land spread out, but I will take Alyr (Rayne)'s suggestion and have her venturing out on the pretense of searching for a new residence. I have made appropriate changes in yellow. Hopefully these meet with your approval. I have allowed Grandmother Cherise to have one bit of land in the Aurora Plain. I hope this is all right.

Not to be argumentative with the CD Mods, however, I think the argument that because it wouldn't work between countries means it wouldn't work here doesn't hold much water. We aren't talking about different countries in Santharia, all of the land in that part of Caelereth is part of the one country, so laws and so forth would be the same, I'd expect. I'd also expect you'd consider the people you'd have overseeing your property carefully to ensure things like corruption is minimal.

I think its a shame that you felt it necessary to change the character to that extent, Filayna, but if it is still something you can work with, that's the most important thing. Hope you can get someone to read over it and approve it soon, particularly after Altario's comments on it.

Just a quick poke of my head to say this is a wonderful CD and your writing style is beautiful.  Hope to see this approved soon. :D
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« Reply #13 on: May 12, 2012, 07:35:56 PM »

Hey Filayna, thanks for your patience!

I read through your CD, which I thought was very well written! You'll be happy to hear that the mod team decided you are ready to play, so I will title you and archive this thread after you've taken away the yellow :)

I hope you'll enjoy playing as much as I do! :)
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Filayna Autumn Emerstone
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« Reply #14 on: May 13, 2012, 01:26:29 PM »

Thank you very much, Irid, both for the approval and for the compliment. I have removed the yellow from the CD, as requested. I look forward to finding a story with a bit of space for me.

Thank you, again.
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