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it is currently season 1, the year 1449 NE. The continent of Tnarem balances on a precarious edge between survival and destruction. Wars rage between nations, fractures open in the Mete. The world as the Tnaremi people know it is dying and they are left with a choice: act or perish with it.
All of the information you need to become better acquainted with the world of Sergonia and its inhabitants can be found here. Anyone wishing to join the Ericourt will be able to find the essentials here.
High Lornesian Common Lornesian Common Markish No Information
Yes, absolute and born asleep
Goals & Motivation
When Frauke was old enough to speak, she wanted to know “why is this so?”; not much has changed since then. She has pressing questions about why things are the way they are now; why Lornesse has moved so far ahead of other nations; why superstition breeds fear; why religiosity makes people forget their own intelligence. Apart from wanting to understand the nature of all things, Frauke also seeks to better herself in both magical and martial pursuits with the end goal of becoming a Dame Rittaleir in mind.
Having been blessed--or cursed, depending on one who asks--with a need to understand why things are the way they are, Frauke naturally has her own complex thoughts and opinions about Pantheonism and the other religions of Tnarem. The strength of her convictions, dependent entirely upon her mood, waxes and wanes without ever truly breaking. Frauke prays specifically to Tejerm and Mekhr because it wouldn’t make sense for her to do otherwise. She has her own private thoughts of religions that are not her own; they are a curiosity, and she regards them the same way an adult might regard a child who takes themselves too seriously.
Her heart-shaped face is the kind of face that lends itself to cuteness, and Frauke would be cute, or cuter, if she didn’t look annoyed ninety-percent of the time. Her brow is almost always furrowed, not because she is annoyed but because she usually thinking about something. Resting Murder Face and violet eyes aside, one of Frauke’s most striking features is the whiteness of her hair paired with pale skin, the kind of skin that doesn’t darken in the sun but gets red and splotchy if she doesn’t take care to cover herself with oils made from various fruits, nuts and flowers. Frauke favors dark colored dresses with simple—or simple enough for a Lornessian—ornamentation on the cuffs, necklines and hems.
Frauke’s temperament can be described as cold to some, and uniquely unfeminine to others. She views social interaction as the bane of her existence if it is not immediately interesting and if she can’t learn anything from it. She gains nothing from idle conversation and would rather impale herself on the nearest sharp object than participate in something with no purpose other than to fill time. It is customary for Frauke to speak overly dramatic about the violent things she would rather do to herself (“I would rather be set on fire and thrown into the sun”) than to be subjected to something she doesn’t like, especially if it is dull conversation. Functional conversations are where she works best, and she likes hearing people’s opinions on topics of interest, even if said opinions are stupid and wrong. One of the most difficult things for her to do is to stay silent and let an idiot speak, but because courtesy is important she bites her tongue.
While she feels no pressure to internalize her own emotions she does so, and often. Frauke would much rather seek comfort in herself in private than lean on the shoulder of someone else and burden them with her issues. This leads to being angry with a lot of people for a time without them realizing. It does take a lot to upset her, but when she is upset she likes to quietly pretend the people she hates do not exist even if she must interact with them daily. Her interactions with them will always be formal with surface-level conversation and nothing else.
Academic (2) - magic
In her short life, Frauke has never heard a statement made by an authority figure that couldn’t be questioned. A nursemaid once told her that the answer to every question could probably be found in a book, so she shouldn’t go around bothering other people. Books are where she finds most of her answers, and books are what keep her from offending others by saying things she ought not say. Frauke likes books that aren’t too dry and boring, and her main interests lie in the origins of things and how it all links up to the present. She does her best learning when she’s by herself or working one to one with an older, more experienced witch. Frauke believes that everything she’s learned in (both magic and martial) can be improved upon by more learning and practice.
Diplomatic (1) - No Information Mercifully, Frauke has been spared the annoyance of having to endure most courtly affairs because she has devoted her life to her magical studies at the Schecolei in Thann. She’s not anything close to an expert dancer and she doesn’t have the type of countenance that lends itself to casual conversation with people she doesn’t know or people that she considers to be boring. When asked questions, Frauke never gives more than what the answer requires. She will not go until meaningless detail or pad her language. A chief complaint made by her younger sister is how appallingly brief her correspondences are. What little things she does like when it comes to the arts are paintings and simple drawings. She’s not artist, but she does like to draw to visualize concepts that could be applied to battle magic.
Martial (3) - battle-related magic, guerrilla tactics, mounted combat tactics
There is beauty and value in marrying battle magic with physical combat; one comes to the aid of the other. Many hours of her day have been dedicated to physical conditioning that is usual to any student at the Graugarde. Wrestling, strength training, swimming, running, climbing, jumping, growing accustomed to the cold--all things that are a part of a robust military education. When in combat, she moves closely and quickly to her opponent before striking fast and hard and maneuvering away. Her modus operandi is to end the fight as quickly as possible without exhausting herself. If she isn’t coming in close, then she’s using evasive tactics in order to avoid being taken down. In the event that a take down is unavoidable she will augment her strength with kinemancy to try to turn the odds in her favor. The long sword, the war hammer, and the dagger are the weapons she is most familiar with, though her knowledge of other weapons is ever-expanding. Through studying military history and how magic was used in previous battles, she seeks to understand how the same strategies can be used and improved.
Relationship with House
Frauke has vague, ill-defined feelings for her mother and father. She can’t say she hates them, but she doesn’t have a strong love for them either. She respects them, certainly, but she has stronger feelings of familial love toward her sisters.
Frauke is a difficult person to read unless one knows what physical tells to look for.
She is intensely curious about the nature of all things.
What she lacks in height and size she makes up for in tenacity, creativity and the lengths she will go to make herself very difficult to defeat in either magical or physical combat. Another person’s victory over her will be hard won.
Frauke and both of her sisters are all lovers to the Raiphina of Lornesse
The true color of her eyes are red, she only uses a glamour to make them appear violet.
Frauke hates both of her sisters for being prettier than her; her looks are the only reason why she studies at the Schecolei.
At the crack of dawn, a Murrat child was born.
An ill omen, to be sure. The gods saw fit to She was pale with white hair and red eyes, a kind of red that looks like dried blood. The newborn does not cry but looks about with her unfocused half-lidded eyes and begins gumming her tiny fist.
Her eyes turn from red to violet (blue irises atop blood vessels) as she ages, a less unsettling color but still odd in comparison with the rest of her family. A maid remarks of a distant relative born with the same condition. “An early death, the poor man.” Her comment implied that he died because of his albinism; she neglected to mention that his death was caused by a series of poor decisions and a frank disregard for his own life.
From the age of four and onward, Frauke would often look more intense and serious than any child ought to at her age. Her eyes are narrowed under translucent eyebrows and her lips are pulled into a frown. She wasn’t angry about anything, rather she was contemplating difficult things and formulating questions to ask nearby adults. There was a lot about the world that confused her, so she asked questions, most of which began with ‘why’. If the question wasn’t answered with information that could be used, then it was shrugged off with a ‘because I said so,’ or ‘because you are lady.’ Not able to accept such an answer, but not yet knowledgeable enough to combat it, those exchanges would leave Frauke with a dark feeling in her stomach which she would later come to know as feeling disrespected and wanting to be disrespectful in turn.
“What’s that?” Frauke is six years old and sitting in a chair, the seat of which is high enough from the ground that her feet dangle. She sits up straight with her hands on her lap with perfect posture. Sitting next to her is one of the maids, one who has always had the patience to deal with the young Vigressa and all of her questions. At one point the maid had offered to hold the girl’s hand in a show of support, but she had been ignored. Even when Frauke was frightened she never reached out for assistance.
A woman in all white sat across from the pair, posture just as perfect and looking quite proud of herself, pours a small amount of the clear liquid into the teacup that had been prepared and hands it over to small pale hands willing to accept but not willing to drink. Frauke wonders if the witch expects her to drink it without question. There’s an urge to turn the whole cup over and empty it back onto the table, but she knows better. Instead she eyes it curiously, expecting it to bubble or make some sort of hissing sound, but it doesn't.
Wary, Frauke glances at her maid and then back to the cup. She drinks from it slowly, being careful not to slurp (ladies do not slurp), and when it is empty she sets the cup back on the little table and is still. Something is supposed to happen now, or at least that was what she’s read in a book. “I don’t—” Frauke is cut off by her own involuntary reaction of flinching because she thinks she hears something, or she feels it. Maybe both. She needs to leave, but her own stubbornness demands she stay put. There's nowhere she REALLY has to go, is there? She's six. The witch across from her snaps her fingers and Frauke is focused again. “The tea was not good.” There is no reason for her to say it, but it is all she can think of doing to gain control of the situation, but the lady ignores the comment and removes a small knife from her person.
“Your hand, little one?”
"Why?" Frauke squints and clasps both her hands together, worried that the woman might try to pull them apart by force. "Are you going to cut it with that knife?" Of course she is. There would be no other reason, unless she felt like stabbing someone. "Why do you have to cut it?" Frauke already knows the answer to that question, and the question that came before it, but her fear is turning her into a brat.
The witch makes no moves and so Frauke takes this time to breathe and get a handle on herself. She offers her hand and winces as it is cut. It hurts, but she isn't going to cry about it; she's six. She stares down at her hand and is immediately distressed, not because of the cut but because her blood is blue.
It is every Lornesian’s dream to have a magic-capable child, even if the child was cursed once by being born an albino and cursed a second time by being born asleep; there are silver linings in most things. Her parents were only too glad to send her to the Gran Schecolei; it was an easy decision, considering they had two other daughters.
With magic—casting and theory—encompassing her life Frauke didn’t care to visit home when given permission. Oh, she did miss her sisters from time to time, her younger one especially, but her home held very little interest for her now that she had something important to concentrate on. Her relationship with her parents had been the same since she was six; she acknowledged them and tried to honor them but there was nothing much beyond that. The distance and time she did not spend at home had much to do with it, or that was how she reasoned the absence of deep affection.
Despite being among her peers in a school dedicated to practicing magic, Frauke never felt a need to interact with others more than what was necessary. It was only at the urging of her sisters, through overly long letters, that she finally stepped out of her comfort zone to interact with others on more than just an intellectual level. It was a true test in tolerating people with varying differences of opinions, and a test of her ability to resist the urge to tell someone they were an idiot.
There is exhaustion and then there is exhaustion, and while she’d had a sampling of it through studying into the wee hours of the morning for exams, she had not known true exhaustion until she’d transferred to the Graugarde to receive her martial training; after all, fifty percent of battle magic is magic, and the other fifty is violence.
Magic and hand-to-hand combat can be taxing on the body, especially if one has confidence and lacks coordination. Palm strikes to the face, arm bars, submission holds and being lifted and thrown onto the ground helped to humble her quickly. The window of time to use magic as a counter was small, and she always missed it due to having to pick herself up off the ground. Bruises were aplenty and when she wasn’t nightmaring as a side effect of ingesting source, then she slept fitfully.
In three months, Frauke learned to use a long sword and was quicker on her feet than when she began; finally, coordination had been achieved! Being thrown around and put into holds happened less often, though they still did happen. When the opportunity presented itself, she used kinemancy to knock her sparring partner’s feet out from under them, to quickly push herself up from the ground, and to put more strength behind her kicks and palm strikes. Much of the softness had gone away from her limbs and was replaced with lean muscle.
Six months in and Frauke could hold a long sword with the confidence she hadn’t had before. When not training in combat and kinemancy, she concentrated on strengthening her skills in alquemency by trying to make an array of things; whips, projectiles, appendages, platforms, and shields. Some constructs were easier to maintain than others, and Frauke found she was most comfortable in using alquemancy as extensions of her own limbs.
Frauke has devoted her entire being to become a witch powerful enough to earn the title of Dame Rittaleir, and if she gets it she hopes to make a significant impact in any future battles, domestic and abroad. Though she tries not to think on it too often, the knowledge of a fissure opening in Dubhion to let all manner of dark things out intrigues her deeply. She is at once satisfied with not having to be near it while wishing she could see it for herself.
Like all students who attend the Gran Schecolei, Frauke has studied all families of magic, though her interests tipped heavily toward alquemancy, kinemancy, and thermomancy. Like the rise and fall of her sleeping breath, using kinemancy comes just as easily; sighing is a shove, a sharp inhale is a yank--usually intending to aim at the weakest points of a body to make the intended target feel unstable, as if they are walking a tightrope. With strength enhanced through Fortifying, performing closures and disarms, breaking out of holds, and breaking through guards becomes simple.
Through alquemency, Frauke uses the elements of nature as an extension of herself. Water, Earth and Air can all be used as concussive forces by propelling the elements forward, usually augmented through the lifting and extension of arm and open palm. Using water like tendrils to grab, whip, or cut takes more concentration and control.
The same concentration and control is needed for making blocks and columns out of earth. The same columns can be used to launch herself upward or toward something. A more casual form of this magic is using it to slide across the earth without having to walk.
With weapons she was trained to use, she can augment her control of the wind. With a swing of her long sword, she can control a blade-like crescent of air and use it to cut through objects. Through cryomancy, Frauke can further enhance the use of her water manipulation by turning her concussive blasts of liquid into solid spheres of ice. Thermomancy, when combined with air manipulation can make whatever fire she has started spread faster across an area. Pettier forms of Thermomancy include keeping herself cooler in the hotter months and warmer in the cooler months.
Though she has yet to attempt it, Frauke theorizes that, if given enough time and opportunity, she could use Pyromancy to burn someone alive in their armor, cook their insides, or just blind them by burning their eyes inside their sockets.
Consequences of Being Awake
The Dream (severe): For someone who thirsts for knowledge and seeks to understand everything through logic, being pulled into a world that defies logic and human understanding is both frightening and frustrating. Darkness wraps around her like a blanket and takes hold of her heart and mind. She feels cold and warm and terrified, yet also curious. Something brushes against her in the darkness and she feels it on her skin, yet she also feels it on the inside crawling up and down her spine. Something whispers in her ear, yet their words are unknowable. She can see things at the edge of her vision all blurry and shapeless. Are these unidentifiable shapes as curious about her as she is about them? Frauke awakes from these nightmares the same way she would from any other dream, only her bedclothes are always soaked through with sweat. She feels a tinge of regret for not being able to stay in The Dream long enough, foolishly believing that she might come to some sort of conclusion if she was given just a little more time. There has to be a reason—there is always a reason. Things don't just happen.
The Song: The song is an unwanted visitor to someone who enjoys the quiet. Still, she feels inclined to listen on the occasions she does hear it. None of it makes sense and it would be as unsettling as The Dream if she hadn’t thought she detected a pattern in the sounds. She can’t make heads or tails of it, but there IS a pattern.
The Pull: It feels like a gentle tug on her soul, one gives her an urge to stand and look for something, though she never knows what she’s supposed to be looking for. Other times she feels like she needs to be somewhere or to find someone. It comes in waves but isn’t as unpleasant as The Dream.
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Last seen May 12 2018, 05:09 PMCreated on January 24th, 2018has made 2 postsplayed by Sia