Within the swirling Mist (IC) > Biographies

Satisfying Substantiation: Saskia d'Auvergne

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Limine:
Saskia d'Auvergne

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Portrait
Saskia is a fair-skinned, charming, half-elven woman, though the points of her ears are often hidden in bright red locks of long hair. She wears dark purple and black leathers, that look like they were once well-crafted and covered in crests, or silk dresses and tasteful, minimal jewelry. She often wears a cloak pulled tight around her shoulders, and though she used to look around with unease and wariness, she is becoming more comfortable in this strange new land, and walks with the confidence and poise brought to her by her upbringing.

~
An outlander from the land of Faerun, Saskia has not only fallen far from her home, but far from her pedigree.

Born as a titled noble (well, halfways, through her noble father out of wedlock, though she was taken into the lineage due to a lack of many other heirs), Saskia was raised not only with the finest comforts the d'Auvergne estates (yes, plural, all along the Sword Coast) could afford, but also with the finest, and highest, of expectations. Since she was young she was trained in the arts, musical, magical, and practical, rhetoric, trade and commerce, even kept fit with lessons of the noble practice of archery, her arm-guards gilded and her arrows dulled. Nevertheless, her aim is true, whether it is pointed at a mink or was pointed at a target crafted out of polished redwood and endangered pines. The education started early and never stopped, until a horrific undead plague hit the countryside, wiping out many nobles and instigating a power struggle of epic proportions... of which Saskia's house was in about fifth place, behind those actually capable of taking power. Under immense pressure to maintain the prestige of her family name and prove herself (often reminded that she was not fully or truly noble...), Saskia set out from her home estate to find a group of adventurers or mercenaries capable enough to support her in finding a cure for the plague and secure her and her family's future. In her travels she saw disease and darkness, corruption and evil, and her naive and sheltered views of humanity, of social contracts and of grand heroism faded, month by month. Until, one dark and scary night, she and her hired group got lost in the woods, hungry and tired from travelling with little to show by way of success towards her goal. Running from a pack of wolves, she and one of the Mercenaries, Lucius, appear to have fallen through the dark, foggy forest and into a very different, even darker place.

And here her next story begins, disconnected from her only purpose in life, a cord cut clean through with no way to connect the ends ever again. She was trained for one world, and dropped into another where none of it seems applicable. No polished brass scales, inlaid with crystals and silver-vein embellishments, nor fine-grain wooden harpsichords with curved golden legs in sight. With one lifeline offered to her, she survives, and she learns, trying to decide what her life should look like with neither an inheritance, nor a lofty expectation to live up to.

Limine:
Education



~
I sighed and sat back on the delicately carved mahogany chair, its well-crafted but old stretchers creaking under the movement. Miss Pacquet looked at me sternly, her bushy grey brows drawn together for a moment before she returned her scrutinizing gaze back to the parchment in front of her, penned by me.

“It is too long,” she said, sharply, after a moment. I sat up, arms on the table as I stared at her in teenage disbelief.

“I added details. Analyses. You told me to be specific,” I complained.

“Anything worth writing should be able to be written in two hundred and fifty words or less. In this world, we must be concise. Direct. This is not a drama class, lady d’Auvergne, and I do not want to see your elvish wordiness appear in your civilized work.” She pushed the parchment aside, back towards me, and sat up straighter, returning to her work. “Bring it back to me at the next lesson. Mister Thomas is waiting in the yard for you already.”

Mumbling, I opened my journal to make a note that I had finished with literature for the morning, but would yet need to complete my reading, my enchantment practice, the archery with mister Thomas, and of course, play the piano for the requisite hour before supper. Without another word I stood and passed through the brick archway in the entrance to the study, my mind wandering to thoughts of the worlds in the books I had written about.

~

Limine:
Matriculation



~
Years later…
I walked down the carpeted, embroidered, crimson and gold hall, wishing it were a deep amethyst, instead. As I entered the ballroom again, he saw me, his eyes alighting as he made his way through the crowd to offer me his arm. I had done my work, previously, and well.

“My lady d’Auvergne, might you accompany me to the card tables? I have heard you bring good luck.”

“Of course, my lord, I would be delighted,” I said, with my winning smile, and off we went. I spent the entire dull night watching him waste his fortune and misread his cards, but I did what I needed to do. Waited long enough for him to loosen his cravat, remove his silk gloves. Linger as the night went on, flirt enough so it was not odd when I touched my bejeweled hand to his fingers, letting him kiss them.

He had a bad habit of rubbing his mustache, often, and licking his lips. I had noticed this last week. The other lady d’Auvergne, my ruthless grandmother, had found this to be a very good observation and devised a scheme.

The only difficulty was getting away unseen while he writhed on the floor, the blood trickling from his mouth hardly making a stain on the deep red of house Tellier’s carpets. In a world with dozens of noble houses vying for the power my matriarch wanted, and with my own inheritance on the line, I did anything that needed to be done.


~

Limine:
Abdication



~
I introduce myself by saying I am formerly of house d’Auvergne. After all, how can I be a noble in a plane where my bloodline is non-existent? With no lands, no inheritance, I am simply nothing. But is that the worst of the circumstances I found myself in after we groped our way through the mists, my graying mercenary and I?

It started before, when my work furthering the house name led me to leave the marble eaves, looking for that damnable cure. I was dirty, muddy, without any bathtub, let alone a copper one. Without any soap, let alone a perfume. Surrounded by men and women I would better call wild dogs, and undead, from the plague. Worse, were my worries that I was chasing something elusive and unattainable. That there would always be one more scheme, one more reason to tell me I could not yet be named heir. The fear that my pointy ears and absent father would always stop me from having what I deserve.

So when I fell through the mists, I felt a sense of relief that the chase was over, but it was quickly replaced with anger. I lost everything I had worked for my whole life. I need to find my life’s meaning in this strange land, a goal to further. Power and luxury to amass. I make do without. But that damn statue and its moral questions made me think about my life, my past, my values. And I need more.

~

Limine:
Devotion



~So how did it start? Not how you would think. With his hand outstretched, telling me to pay him.

My mission had failed, and I was giving up on my grandmother’s crazy requests. The soldiers were interrogating, murdering, quarantining, because of the plague. We got questioned, the people trapped in that inn, and I lied to protect us all - claimed everyone there was my hire. It worked, and he said if I was going to claim it, I had better pay him. I refused, and then we all realized we’d be cut down in three seconds if we didn’t band together. So I joined them, Lucius, and a creepy druid and his ward. We headed out of the hamlet, back onto the road. A few nights passed and not a one we didn’t bicker, him sniffing at me and me threatening to tear out his hair if he didn’t shut his mouth.

And then that night. The druid disappeared, and the ward made us search for him. As time passes, I forget even what horrors we saw that night that scattered the group of us, sent us running into the woods, Lucius following me for gods know what reason.

We fell through together, and when we came through we bickered worse. But I was terrified of every shadow and every claw and every creature, and he protected me. Words changed. Gazes softened. Hearts bared. Bodies bared. He is all I really have here, and he is all I really want to keep anymore.

~

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