Lorelei
home Falcon Mitsu Jereth
Lorelei von Gripensvaerd
Lorelei is human in her late teens and fighter of House Valkyrie, this is her story:
Lorelei paced up and down the corridor, bare feet sloughing across the roughly hewn stone. The corsette she wore was making it difficult for her to breathe, and she thought longingly of her plain green tunic and breeches. She felt trapped by the binding ties and straps, but she had to appear as a proper lady. Until she left court, gone were the days in which she could gallavant about, practicing her druidry and swordplay; and here she'd always supposed she'd die to an enemy's blade. No, now it appeared as though she'd die from suffocation! Agitated, she rounded a corner, dark brown eyes snapping angrily to the movement ahead. A maidservant, speaking in hushed whispers and giggles to her companion, feet skipping gaily across the corridor. It was obvious from her echoing tones that the maid was gossiping, as commoners were wont to do... However, if they were expecting to find something truly scandelous in their thorough cleaning of Lorelei's chambers, it might only be the skeleton she kept her closet for just such an occasion.
Ugh. Court. How she detested it!
Her first day, and already she wearied of the stupidity. A waste. And yet, she was the sole representative surviving of her lineage, foreign though it was in these lands. Obviously, she must be maid a spectacle of, this refugee from scandinavia, this barbarian who worshipped strange gods and had strange customs! Gods forbid that she might actually have learned something about the society she was in; after all, she'd only been here for seven years. Irritably, she strode back to her chambers; she had to ensure her hair was perfectly couiffured, and that her skin was ghostly pale. Not that this tended to be such a problem, what with being ghostly pale with or without the aid of make up... Not even the long hours she spent in the sun during combat training did much more than pinken her complexion.
Grinding her teeth as she set resolutely to the task of ensuring the perfection of her looks, she forced herself to remember. She needed the support of these foreign nobles, before she could attempt to wreak vengeance upon the man that had murdered her family, and most of the residents of her former fief- the loyal peasants who had raised their scythes against Kronheilms armies, and who had been cut down with the same mercilessness that her own father had. It would have been so much easier if Kronheilm hadn't later moved on to become king, of course, but she'd have her vengeance anyway... somehow.
Swaying slightly from sudden light-headedness, she sighed and leaned against the wall. This was going to be a VERY long day.
