Posts : 1397 Join date : 2010-01-20 Age : 31 Location : England
Subject: Marielle "Lorena" Adlersflügel Sat Jan 21, 2012 11:33 pm
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Full Name: Marielle Amelia Adlersflügel Nickname: Mari - A nickname her childhood friends gave to her, in the treasured years she knew them. Alias: 'Lorena' - Whilst working as a mercenary, and subsequently a caravan guard, she worked under her alias to try and create a name for herself. Gender: Female Age: 35 Race: Human Languages: Common, Occitanian Birthplace: The Nation-State of Vinberg, Occitan - Her parents were Anna and Löwen Adlersflügel. Occupation: Adventurer - Primarily seeking adventure, she has always turned to work involving her blade to finance her travels, but has grown to enjoy a good fight or two. - Has had substantial experience as a mercenary / caravan guard in the past. - Whenever possible, she pursues the occasional bounty and is always on the look-out for one, though always finding potential profit limited by her moral standpoint.
Personality:
Unlike most from Vinberg, Marielle possesses a surprising tolerance in accordance with her strong following of Verena, and a kind-hearted nature brought about by her calm upbringing in her childhood. She is slow to anger, with a great sense of control and self-restraint over her emotions, but is not afraid to display her positive feelings when prompted by happiness or humour. Her sense of family is incredibly strong, the red flowers on her head serving as a constant reminder of her parents, and though quite masculine at times from a life lived adventuring, she has her more refined and feminine moments. She considers her closest friends, though not in possession of many, just as precious as her family, and will fight to defend them.
Very often outspoken, rarely introverted, Mari takes pleasure in meeting new people in her travels and enjoying her freedom as an adventurer to engage in social sitations - such as sharing tales of the road over a drink, something she has grown very fond of doing. Her favourite drink, of course, is a good old fashioned Occitanian white wine.
She loves fighting, especially honourable duel-type conflicts like Occitanian nobles back home would partake in - and in which she is particularily skilled. Practising with Erinnerung, her sabre, takes up most of her day, her technique a point of pride for the experienced fighter. Her emotions can sometimes get the better of her, but she has trained herself to learn how to prevent this, for sake of professionalism and maintaining a good balance between relaxed and aware in everyday life. Because of past experiences in her life, she dislikes fast carriages, bullying and those with a dislike for flowers.
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Hair Colour: Grey-Black - Fading in colour after a life of wear, as the sheen on a blade would. Hair Style: Shoulder length, choppy, windswept and messily arranged Eye Colour: Darkened Grey Height: 5'10" Weight: 141 lbs Body Type: Slender and modest, but well-built. - Her arms, especially, find themselves muscled from training and combat. Distinguishing Features: Mari has three facial scars, on the bridge of her nose, the side of her face and on her chin. She also has a small beauty mark near her mouth, on the left side of her face.
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Biography:
Summary
Mari travelled in various caravans across Occitan, learning a wealth of skills and knowledges across the way. She spent many years in the nation states before venturing out on a trade caravan headed by a new friend. There, she traversed the Vale in a long, arduous haul and finally made it past, deciding to go her own way from that point on.
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Childhood
Marielle was born thirty-four years ago, a newborn baby her father would never cast his eyes on, nor hold in his arms. Löwen Adlersflügel found himself departed from the world before he had a chance to say goodbye to his wife, struck down by a carriage after leaving the house to surprise her with a gift. The bouquet in his hands, beautiful red lebensblume, ended up on top of his coffin. Seven and a half months later, Anna Adlersflügel would produce a daughter bearing his eyes, who she named in accordance to the names she had so lovingly picked with her husband, in the eventuality of either a boy or girl.
Marielle spent her childhood growing up on the vineyard that her mother and grandparents owned, playing in and out of the vines to the dismay of the adults and those working hard to tend the rows of grapes. She resided in the family manor, overlooking the fields and rolling hills of the Vinberg countryside, and grew up as an only child with a mother refusing to re-marry even in the face of legalities which threatened her way of life. The young Occitanian girl's closest friends lived in the town of Anstadt, a settlement devoid of Vinberg's militaristic ideals in close proximity to the vineyard, and frequented the manor. They would give Marielle her shortened nickname, and countless carefree, innocent days away from the troubles of adults. Mari always wore red flowers in her hair, her mother's suggestion so that Löwen's good nature and dedication would travel with his daughter, and always enjoyed playing in the fields with her friends.
In her time alone, Mari was a wholly different child. Even from as young as age ten, she took on more physical methods of passing time, wielding sticks as if they were swords and mimicking Vinbergen soldiers when they often passed by. One of her favourite past-times was to throw stones to create the largest impact on water she could, whilst her friends would attempt to skip them and quickly bore of it. When her mother taught her how to make clothes, she would always create rough recreations of soldiers' uniforms out of the least elegant materials, much to her mother's disheartenment.
However, life would not stay so placid and perfect, taking turns for the worst. Her mother was forced to sell the vineyard when Mari was fourteen, based on the lack of legal rights to the property, and moved away across Vinberg to the other side of the state in order to follow the easiest way to live without the family manor and the wealth generated from selling fine wines. The mother and daughter settled into a smaller, cottage-style home in the coastal town of Westlenberg. This change didn't sit well with Marielle, however, having left all her friends far behind and now facing the prospect of an education in a town completely alien to her. Westlenberg differed from Anstadt in that the traditional Vinbergen values of military strength were strongly in place.
Growing Older
At age fourteen her mother felt Marielle was aged enough to understand what she had always wanted to tell her, and explained how her father had died, revealing to her the full nature of being without him and how he would never return. Needless to say, this had a profound, almost maturing effect on Mari. Coupled with the loss of her friends and the movement to a new home, she found within herself an entirely different side, conflicted and seeking out ways to simply think by herself. Marielle inherited the same drive and vision that her father had, planning the steps she would take in order to put control of her life safely within her own hands. First, however, she would have to attend the local school when she turned fifteen, at her mother's nigh unstoppable demands.
Her first day there played out unexpectedly. Three boys local to the town and two years superior to her age attempted to take the red flowers from her hair, finding it amusing to pick on the new arrival. The moment the tallest one removed the wreath of lebensblume, he recieved a punch to the stomach. Sadly, however, Marielle's strength had not yet translated from her mind to her physical state, and her punch merely winded the boy for a few precious seconds. She grabbed the flowers, and attempted to run, but was tripped, pinned and punched in the face with amorality to make the state's Governor proud. She still held on to her flowers, and after a couple of kicks lacking conviction, the boys left her alone.
This proved a turning point in her life, and from that point forwards she decided to take on pursuits most unseen amongst any girl her age. On her sixteenth birthday, she became close friends with a boy named Oskar, who found great interest in such activities as sparring and generally gaining strength. He found it incredibly surprising that Marielle asked to be a part of his routine, wanting to learn to fight and become strong, but after hearing her reasons decided to give her a shot. Marielle was fixed on preventing her victimisation being repeated, not only in school but in her entire life. She would be able to protect her mother, her own well-being, and she would be able to have a say in things.
By age eighteen, Oskar and her had trained relentlessly, taking long periods of time after school to spar with blunted training blades that he had 'borrowed' from the town's barracks. Marielle's sword was undoubtedly too big for her frame, but she didn't complain, instead adapting herself to use the heavy sword in such a way that could almost pass as fluid in her movements. Though her mother insisted she settle down and take a normal job, Marielle would hear none of it. She saw herself as able to make independent decisions now and set out to join the small local guardforce, the first step in joining the Vinbergen military, through registering at the barracks in town. Although she was a female in a traditionalist Occitanian town, they accepted her for basic trials and training.
This did not last long, however. Three weeks into her training, she was placed on a supervised patrol in and around the town, with a higher ranking soldier assigned to grade her performance according to the principles of law she had been taught. Her trial was running perfectly smoothly with all protocol executed to the letter, until towards the end of the patrol, she came across a cart with a broken wheel. The driver, face burning red with anger, was complaining not only about delays but about the thieves that had ran past his cart whilst he attempted to make rudimentary repairs and stolen two boxes of fresh fruit from inside without his knowledge. Eventually, Marielle was able to track down those that had stolen, only to find a group of young urchin children that had escaped being placed into a state-owned orphanage. Marielle's tough, hardened exterior broke before she even knew it could, and she instantly protested against their arrest on grounds that they needed the food more than the trader.
She was instantly expelled from the guard, whilst Oskar went on to complete his training. Marielle abandoned her plans to join the military, and decided upon a new goal in life. Instead of being disheartened, she would use the skills she taught herself and the techniques her militia training instilled to become somewhat of a mercenary. The idea for such a path came about after speaking to an old veteran on her way back home from failing her trials, an incredibly lucky encounter just outside the bar that inspired her with tales of travel and that old cliché of adventure.
Leaving Home... The Journey Across Occitan
Staying with her mother for another year, helping her out and somewhat still clinging onto her new home and friendship with Oskar, Marielle would stay in Westlenburg.
However, on the day she turned nineteen, her birthday celebrations doubled as a leaving party. Armed with a short-sword from Oskar's grandfather, she set off from the town, heading on a journey south-east through Occitan. From Vinberg, she travelled to Ruetten by trade caravan, bartering passage for a role as a guard for the caravan riding alongside on horseback. Including the travel time, she spent five months altogether in Ruetten, staying longer than she had expected to. She was kept fascinated by the state because of its famed warriors, and the wide presence of the military drafted from the age of eighteen. She learnt much, spending a few weeks in a military barracks being mentored by the captain stationed there, who had welcomed her warmly because of her Vinbergen accent. He taught Marielle the basics practices of the honourable fighting style utilized by Occitanian generals, showing her the first sabre she'd ever seen. She loved the feel of the blade more than any other she'd handled, feeling the weapon as an extension of her arm and becoming truly saddened that she could not take military property off of his hands. Before she departed, he offered her his personal finely crafted dagger - but she refused, stating instead that it was she who was indebted to him, and one day she would return his kindness.
Her next destination was further south, to Ansbach. She spent only a month there, in service of an aging merchant touring the whole state to sell his oddly popular pottery. Though mundane, and often dull compared to her previous travels, she was very content with the pay and the fact she was able to see Ansbach's most beautiful locations alongside the rural coastal chalk-towns. Marielle got to know the trader quite well, having only him as company and enjoying his calm and benevolent temperament. He was even as kind as to offer her a ride to the Ansbach-Buchloe border, albeit with a slightly salacious undertone that made Marielle sleep with her sword in her grasp. His final words to Marielle, before riding away back to his various trading ventures, were those of warning. He told her that the people of the East Occitanian states would not take kindly to a Vinbergen name such as Marielle, or indeed her surname, Adlersflügel. Marielle thanked him for his caring words, finding shelter in a nearby small village on the border. Overnight, she thought deeply about adopting a different name, finally deciding that although she had strong desire to gain fame underneath her family (and her father's) name, it would be safer and more convenient were she simply to refer to herself under an alias.
She finally decided the following morning. Her mother's middle name had come from Mari's grandmother, Lorena, who was Weissboeden by nationality. It was perfect - this would become her alias.
Upon reaching the border, Mari travelled into Buchloe on foot, a decision made because of both the desire to save money and the wish to see the homeland of her patron saint, Verena, at her own pace and without obligation. It proved to be a very fortuitous trip, more than anything reinforcing Marielle's faith in Verena as a guardian watching over her and the provider of her strict moral code, from which Mari would never think to deviate from. Her mother had shown her the shrine to Verena when she was much younger, the beautiful stone statue located in the fields behind the vineyard manor. There she had heard Marielle's promise to always, no matter how dark the times, follow Verena's ideals and perhaps one day, she had joked, become a saint herself. She celebrated her twentieth birthday alone, breaking from her ration-orientated discipline to eat a little more than she usually would.
It was also in Buchloe, however, where she made acquaintance with one Bernhardt Krause.
A Fortunate Acquaintance
Krause was a budding, inexperienced trader, about five years older than Mari and also from Vinberg himself, heading his own mercantile caravan on a long journey destined to end up in the regions south of the Vale. His caravan spanned around 9 carriages and wagons in total, headed by the renowned horses of Haria which had been a struggle to procure. He came from a wealthy background, able to finance his venture using the small fortune he had amassed from the passing of his mother and the subsequent sale of her home. He had come from a family of five, and ever the out-going sort who often strayed far from school or any other forms of education, he had never recieved the most loving care from the parents that relentlessly tried to force him into some form of respectable profession.
It was on his background where he and Marielle would bond. The two met during Mari's stay in the town of Bürgen, the last settlement before Buchloe ended and Sanctimonia began. Marianne had found her way into the bar on the night before departure, to allow herself a celebratory drink (it was her birthday only a few days ago), when she had overheard Krause's words to the bartender and noticed his clear accent. Mari appreciated the company greatly, seeing Krause as a welcome reminder of home and quickly bonding over talk of their home state. As it turned out, the two were even from roughly the same region, Klause speaking tales of how he had indeed tasted the red wines from the Adlersflügel vineyard. She introduced herself, quietly, as Marielle instead of Lorena, feeling it too difficult to distance herself from someone so close to her home.
Marielle explained her reasons for travelling so far and her plans to head into Weissebode, but she was quickly halted by the eager merchant upon hearing about her profession and skill-set. Seeing the benefits of a Vinbergen for company, he decided to offer her a job on his caravan - and a long one at that. She was free to serve with him as long as she wanted, for a negotiable wage, as long as she understood that they would be travelling far from Occitan, into regions where the Holy Empire had previously earned their beloved collection of nations a universally sour reputation. Shaking hands with Klause, Marielle promised to sleep on the thought, renting a room and swiftly retreating to it in order to think.
It was not until morning, after a long and somewhat sleepless night of pondering, that Marielle made a firm decision to travel with him. She would correspond with her mother by letter, and although she would miss her greatly, this chance to journey alongside Klause was undeniable. Not only was it a chance to gain some real worthwhile experience of the world outside Occitan, but it was a dream coming true - the same vision of exploration and adventure she had fantasised about since her childhood.
Meeting each other for the first time since they shook hands, Klause met Mari by the caravan, producing a rough leather vest clearly tailoured for a short man rather than a woman and shoving it into her arms with insistence that she wear it over her rough cloth garments that had so far "by some miracle of that Saint you hold dear" managed to protect her. As soon as she had fitted it as best she could and taken her place on horseback, riding alongside Klause's personal wagon at the head of the caravan, the merchant and his wares set off from Buchloe.
The Venture Into The Vale
The journey into the Vale began well, with Marielle and Klause passing the time easily with talk when the other wasn't sleeping, after a whole night-shift driving the caravan on its way. Supplies were more than ample, with the rest of the personnel in each following wagon and carriage contempt to talk amongst one another or invent small games such as the ever-mundane 'Caravan Courier', whereby a person from each wagon would speak a sentence barely audibly to another on the next along, until it reached the end and back with a warped version of the original sentence.
However, the caravan was only three days into its travels when the lead wagon ground to a halt, its wheels locking up instantly. On either side of the caravan, steep hills marked the perfect place for an ambush. Jumping abruptly with a burst of adrenaline, Mari scrambled to the edge of the wagon to glance at the wheel after a barely awoken Klause called out orders. Her eyes were met with the unmistakeable shape of an incredibly well placed spear, snapped by the wheel but jutting out at such an angle that rendered movement impossible. She scrambled back, grabbing under the wagon's seating to take her sword in hand, yanking it from its sheath and yelling as loud as she could.
"We're under attack!"
She barely finished her last word before spotting the glint of a spear flying from the top of one of the inclines, moving to step back at a pace slowed by shock - much too slow than she should have been moving. Klause sprung up from behind her, miraculously tugging on the back of her armour to pull her towards the floor.
The spear flew past her head, but left an agonizing burning sensation across her nose, clouding her vision with bursts of pain. She could feel the new sensation of warm blood on her face, but chose to stand up as quickly as she could, staggering but making it over the side of the wagon. Along the caravan, waylayers charged down from the hills, brandishing spears and shield. Here was no different, as two men sprinted down towards Marielle. Her instincts took hold, pain blinding any inhibiition she might have had, and she moved to counter their charge, swinging her sword in a low arc and moving her body with it. It was a novice maneuver, fraught with error and clumsiness, but it worked.
The bandit she had swung at was moving too fast to stop, falling into the sword and grimacing as it cut across his chest. He hit the ground, the thump of his corpse synchronised with the wood of the second waylayer's spear slamming into the back of her leather armor. There was an awful crack, and her vision flashed black as she raised her sword weakly to defend. She wasn't going to give up now, though, not when she had the upper-
Crack.
Marianne awoke, lying flat in the back of one of the wagons with a headache that felt like she could glance up and see an axe in her head. The cart was rumbling along, jolting her uncomfortably but at least providing some reassurance that the caravan had made it. How many were okay? She could only wonder, surrounded by boxes and two cloth-clad members of the caravan that occasionally dabbed at the rudimentary bandages on her face.
It would take a full three or so days before she felt able to move, even if it proved just as painful as when she woke. When the caravan finally rolled to a halt at dawn, she exited the wagon with help from another caravaneer, thanking her and making a slow beeline for Klause's location. As she had hoped, he was lying in the seat, the horse's reins across his lap. Thank Verena, thank Lora; he was okay. Not only was he her friend, but her employer. Since Klause seemed to be asleep, or otherwise worked to a state of paralysis, and since her head felt like it was about to crack open much like a melon being dashed against a rock, she decided to retreat back to her bed on the wagon. By the next day, they would be clear of the Vale, and certainly free from any severe danger of bandits.
Marianne, when she finally lay back down, could only worry about her failure in her duties, never really tested in such a spontaneous and lethal situation. Days later, when she was visited by Klause once the caravan had come to a stop outside of a town, she deeply apologised, but was met with refusal of the apology on grounds that she had done well considering, and she would be recieving not only full pay, but a special gift. Mari, were she not so bruised, would've given him the largest hug she could muster, right there on the spot. She informed Klause that she had decided to fly solo from this point on, to which her friend simply nodded and smiled, telling her of his understanding.
The Blacksteel Sabre... Parting Ways
Her nose bandaged, a spear-wound healing underneath, Marielle gathered what little things she had into her satchel and set about saying her goodbyes to each member of the caravan. She set about finding Klause, tying her scabbard to her belt as she ambled about the wagons. Mari found him sat calmly, in the very middle carriage. Across his lap was a long wrapped up item, shrouded in a cloak of cloth and held tight by a red ribbon-like material. He smiled warmly as she approached, gesturing for the sword at her side and much to her confusion, taking it off of her and throwing it inside the carriage.
It was here that Klause handed her that which was across his lap, with an anxious smile. If she was going to go out on her own, he said, she needed a sword that she was able to swing without losing a fight in a matter of seconds. As she slowly removed the cloth wrapping around it, he told her of its origin - the cavalry sword that his father had forged in the forges of the Holy Empire, given a new guarded hilt to fit her hand much better. Her smile was uncontainable. To be given a weapon forged in the Empire was quite probably the highest honour she could imagine, being Vinbergen in heritage. She could not thank him enough, and his only request was that he keep it safe and to remember him. She bowed, and accepted these terms, before gazing upon the unsheathed blade and taking her leave.
The sabre was 'Erinnerung', forged from the finest blacksteel of the late Holy Occitanian Empire, and she would wield it well.
A New Destiny
With the pay from guarding Klause's caravan safely in her satchel, she decided to make her own way in the world, heading futher south. Over the course of fourteen years, her various pursuits would lead to many odd and dangerous adventures, resulting in two more painful scars on her face and many more on her body.
Eventually however, after failing to catch a bounty in the area, she decided to take a break from the whole business and take rest in the closest town nearby, a settlement known as Surna.
It would prove just a little more interesting than she could have ever imagined.
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Skills:
Swordsmanship - Marielle is a practitioner of charme-gefect, a style amalgamating many different Occitanian techniques of wielding a blade. She created it herself, naming it purely for convenience, and thusly the technique is far from the most effective, honed form of combat. - With twenty years of training, experience and combat utilizing a blade, Marielle is incredibly skilled in the use of the blacksteel sabre at her side. The slightly curved sword with a guarded hilt is the weapon with which she feels most comfortable, knowing many if not most flourishes and tricks. With other swords she has a rough idea of how to swing them, but no finesse and much less speed.
Horse Riding - She has had a lot of experience in the saddle from her time as a caravan guard, extremely comfortable on horseback but completely inexperienced with mounted combat.
Unarmed Combat - Whilst a strong woman, with well-built arms from use of her sabre, Marielle has never learnt anything past throwing the type of sluggish punch you'd see in a tavern brawl.
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Attributes:
Strength & Endurance - Her body is toned and built up from over twenty years spent either practicing, training or fighting at least once a day. - She has a great capacity for endurance, however, able to utilize economic strokes of her sabre and retain her stamina. Running and stronger attacks, however, are guaranteed to take their toll.
Dexterity & Agility - Marielle is quick on her feet with swordplay and dodging, but lacks the ability to sprint quickly for extended periods of time.
Charisma & Presence - Mari knows a few ways to barter and charm a good deal out of a person. - In casual conversation, she often finds herself a little awkward, but never at a loss for words.
Willpower & Spirit - She has a strong will, and an intelligent mind, possessing a determination to carry on even in the face of defeat or failure. - She has proven to be quite fearful and apprehensive at times, however, as much as she attempts to fight her fears.
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Alignment: True Neutral Deity: Verena - The Occitanian Patron Saint of Equality, Acceptance and Understanding. - Marielle also finds herself following certain aspects blessed by Lora, the Occitanian Patron Saint of Love and Joy. Weapon: 'Erinnerung', the blacksteel sabre given to her by her oldest friend, Klause, upon parting ways. Its golden hilt is customised to be the perfect fit for her hand. Apparel: Very often, she will wear a tailor-made, hardened leather jerkin, crafted to accomodate her female frame and its extremities. - She sold most, but not all, of her armor from the road in order to gain a flexible amount of money in her travels. - She can always be seen wearing her red top in the comfort of solitude, draped down until just before her knees. Accompanying this is a pair of black, similarly loose-fitting pants. Misc. Inventory:
Satchel - Contaning her coin-purse, coloured ribbon from her sabre's scabbard a cloth rag and multiple small sheets of paper, both blank and inked.
Black sabre scabbard, attatched to her belt at all times and containing 'Erinnerung'
231 Shillings
Silver Ring
Last edited by Krug on Sat Feb 18, 2012 6:43 am; edited 5 times in total
Psycheandromida He Who Wears Sunglasses at Night
Posts : 1503 Join date : 2009-09-25
Subject: Re: Marielle "Lorena" Adlersflügel Sat Jan 21, 2012 11:57 pm
denied.
Not a tiefling and go to bed
Reager
Posts : 166 Join date : 2011-10-06 Age : 29
Subject: Re: Marielle "Lorena" Adlersflügel Sun Jan 22, 2012 6:15 am
Dang, I guess you really did put a ton of time into the backstory XD Looks great and I love the char, accept.
thorogoodd
Posts : 701 Join date : 2010-04-19 Age : 27 Location : London, Ontario
Subject: Re: Marielle "Lorena" Adlersflügel Sun Jan 22, 2012 8:54 am
I feel like this is an easily acceptable character, and a great example of what people should strive to make their character pages look like, because it is stunning.
Sat Jan 21, 2012 11:33 pm
