OOC
Minecraft Username: paigekie
Are you at least 18 years old?: yea
Have you read the rules? (Link): yup!(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?:
from my good friend..
(Max. 1) Were you referred by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username:
Captain_Cynical
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins):
paigekie she/he/they
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In-Character
Read the following prompt:
The rhythmic lull of hoofbeats are a marching drum to the small group of pioneers and variety of folk you have found yourself amongst, packed into a wobbling wagon. The rolling plains of the Southern Reach and a clear sky stretch out all around you, the buzz of excited chatter a dull wash in your ears as your mind strays to your former life and what has led you here to new lands.
“Nervous?”
You blink, returning to the present moment. A kindly older woman sat near you is smiling warmly with a crinkle to her eyes.
“I can tell it’s your first time. Still remember mine,” she flashes a grin and leans in.
“Tell me my dear, why have you come to the Reach?”
How do you respond (in character)? (250 word minimum - please make sure to include at least three references to our lore in your response, with two coming from different pages in the Compendium. Two of the three selected should also be in-depth, avoid simply name-dropping lore terms. Tie the terms into your character's backstory. Why are they important to them?)
Cinismir blinks hard, cementing herself in the present time and processing the words spoken to her. Turning to face the old woman, she'd narrow her coral eyes and study the elder. Upon seeing the warm smile, she'd reluctantly let herself relax, eyes softening. The Greatling had wanted new beginnings. What better time to start now, than with this old lady? Her stone-gray lips would part, instinctively coming to speak in Fey tongue around her tusks before readjusting. "..To do good. Put my blade to use." Her voice was coarse. It was a relatively simple goal, though the Greatling would shift in her seat. It felt dishonest to leave it at that. The large curved sword slung over the woman's shoulders would bob against her back with each bump on the road. "I hail from the Ashlands, part of the Fireborne." The Greatling would explain, very deliberately leaving out her involvement with the Ashborne. "A black-blood like me oughta devote their strength, you see." She justified further, averting her gaze from the old woman. Slit pupils now studying the plains of the Reach, sentiments would flood Cinismir's mind.
The crackling of fire and bubbling of magma—sparks of metal against metal. Life as a lowly scavenger within the Ashborne, those ruled by vengeance and dishonor. Such atrocities she had committed as a Greatling, with that same blade, and she dares try atone? Should she ever be met with the Dragon's Tongue, her soul was undoubtedly fated for the Western path. With skin of ash and blood of soot, this journey was nothing more than a writhing attempt at redemption.
A rough bump on the road would finally snap Cinismir back to the present once more, blinking as she reoriented herself to her surroundings. The sun was still high, horses still pacing, and path still winding on. The older woman had joined her in watching the horizon, her crinkled eyes lingering over far-off land features until the Spire would fade into view. the Greatling had only heard stories of the great tower, the expression washing over her face bringing the old woman another smile. As the wagon pulled ever closer to the settlement, some pioneers would sink into their seats to rest their tired bodies. Others would only grow more restless at the sight, their excited chatter proving a pleasant backdrop to Cinismir's thoughts. Whatever would come of her excursion, the former Ashborne would meet it with triumph; if not for her tattered honor, then for the others around her.
—
Character Name: Cinismir
Character Race: Half-Race (Greatling/Arsa Sidhe)
Character Age: 38
Brief Physical Description:
A little more slender than the typical Greatling, Cinismir stands at a tall 241cm (7'11"). Excluding her sword arm, a majority of her silhouette is draped in light robes, fastened with a vibrant coral-orange fabric tied around the waist. This orange-red appears multiple times in the Greatling's appearance, twice with the headband securing her brown-black hair—and another with the irises surrounding her slit pupils. Protruding from the stone-gray skin of her forehead are two short horns, keratin creeping down onto the flesh. These horns come to an abrupt end not too far from her face, as if chopped off. Despite her cynical worldview and shady past, Cinismir's image is nothing short of striking.
Image of Skin and Figura Model:
