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Bellemere

"To vow for the silence, is to swear on the grave." - A Silent Sister saying

104 views · last seen in World of Oarth
a character in “Mortal Tales”, as played by Byte

Description

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THE SILENT SISTER
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N A M E
Sister Bellemere
A G E
Twenty-eight
H E I G H T
5'7"
W E I G H T
137 lbs
O R I G I N
Undisclosed
G E N D E R
Female
R A C E
Human
B E L I E F S
Agnostic



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G E A R
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Amongst the Sisterhood it's not by rule that one wears uniform, but by courtesy to the All-mother; The Mouth. Alluring by appearance and practical by name, Bellemere dons the trademark armour of her organization, the Sister's Garb, a collection of the finest cloth in all of Oarth and leather straps and pockets to accommodate every assassin's arms and baubles of note. Gauntlets and boots are lined with padded fur to mute steps and deft hands, and a hood aptly hides ones face from public scrutiny.

Bellemere's arsenal is that like many from her order, light and quiet. A dagger and shortsword sheathed just above her hip, and several throwing darts litter the many straps along the woman's legs and torso. Other than that, Bellemere has taken a personal fondness for carrying a fresh set of lockpicks just on the off-chance.


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P E R S O N A L I T Y
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Curious is the silence that surrounds the Silent Sisters, like an eerie northern wind that's harsh and cold. Bellemere is just as mute, if not more so and relishing every ounce of it in her wake. Despite her disability she's all but lacking the means to interact with the world and individuals around her, having caught on to the naunces of body language and facial mimicry to get by in life. And having a good sense of character to boot. This one's not easily duped, and even harder to convince of falsehoods and other such trickery. She might lack the tongue, but her wit is quick and sharp as her blade.

But in all, Bellemere's silence has not given to shying away from any attempts at friendly banter or hearty jests, and beyond the muted demeanour and calculated gaze plotting every step lies a very casual undertone. One can often find the woman smiling, at her own expence or that of others, and eager to engage with others even if they're unsure of how to deal with her apparent muteness. If anything, she'll often use her disability as an easy icebreaker and it's done her plenty of favours in the past. Good and bad. Failing that, she'll happily oblige by scribbling notes or trading handsigns as a means of communication, but is more keen on letting her actions speak for themselves. She's not... very subtle, not in that regard, anyway.

As mentioned before, Bellemere's wit is that of a fox. She's crafty and observant, traits emphasized by her assassin training and so she's quick to catch onto things. Especially lies. It's not exactly in her nature to take the high road, and if need be she'll gladly play a trick out of her own magic bag with no regard for the fine moral lining and the consequence it might have. If it's any consolation, she might be willing to consult before acting upon her own code, but weighs that in bias against any who travel in her company. She may have joined forces, but that hasn't mellowed down any of her independent tendencies.

Last but not least, the weight of gold has always held more prominence over basic morals for Bellemere. Safe for very few exceptions, she has never held grudges against simple, unadultered business. Killing is as much a job as it is to work the farm, and the only difference in importance is how much you take out of it for yourself. With that said, she's not at all discriminatory over what's what and who's who. So long as she isn't on the receiving end of the bad stuff, Bellemere can't really be bothered voicing her opinion on something and judges according to practicality. She does, however, feel strongly about political agendas and has outright scowled at anyone holding one to heart. People are advised against persuading her to pick sides, she won't thank you kindly for it.


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H I S T O R Y
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It's not the past that dictates how one lives, but their actions in the present that plunge the stepping stones in the water of life; building the bridge to their death, orchestrated in a scheme invisible to anyone but the Silent Sisters. Or so the legend goes, among many other fallacies that have done well to hide the order from public viewing. It's no secrecy to the common folk that the Silent Sisters has become something of a folklore to tell children that have been naughty. Speaking of mouthless women that hunt for kids fit for offering, bad kids. It's all a mere front, a crafty lie that's been subject for debate to many scholars, but only those truly belonging to the order, and perhaps those who employ them know the truth. And Bellemere? Well, she's but a pawn in a larger scheme of politics and worldly balance.

As far as public records are concerned, Bellemere was an orphan plucked from the streets like a fresh red apple from the tree, a potential seed out of many others to become a player in the games that the rich liked to call; "Climbing the ladder." And so it was that , instead of a beggar's life, Bellemere had the fortune (or misfortune as some kids had said) to live for better things. Great things. Life among the Silent Sisters was a far cry from the scraping for rotten food she had been forced to do back home. Here she was fed, cradled and loved by people she knew lived shady, uncertain lives. There was no sweetening the thought, her peers were assassins, and if Bellemere's new family had anything to say about it, so would she one day. Wearing the sigil of the Sisterhood in servitude to the All-mother.

And so she did. Many years of preperation, training, teaching and discipline finally granting Bellemere the honours to take her vows. She was summoned to the inner chambers of the shrine, asked to take the Rite of Silence and forfeit her life and voice in the name of the order. Which she did, gladly, and without a single second thought. Forever silent until the Gods take her from this mortal realm to enjoy the sweetness of her voice once more.

Until then, silence...

In the coming years Bellemere dutifully fulfilled the orders demands, bringing in wealth and brokering information, playing the game like she'd been born to turn tables and allegiances like the coins it earned her. And she enjoyed every minute of it.

As of recently, Bellemere has found herself attending the millennial fair with naught to do but await future whispers of dealings with her order.


O C C U P A T I O N
Contract Assassin
H O M E
Shrine of Whispers
R E L A T I O N S H I P
single/dating/married/it's complicated
F A M I L Y
None to speak of
A L I G N M E N T
(Lawful) Neutral
S T A T U S
alive/deceased
C O L O U R
#66023C


So begins...

Bellemere's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Alyania Desina Character Portrait: Thalion Alderän Character Portrait: Hilda Vaulke

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#, as written by Sonofel


MAY YOUR JOURNEY BE FRUITFUL AND YOUR COURAGE BE MIGHTY

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TOWN OF ASHNEL
The Millennial Fair


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It is high noon on April 5th, 1000 OA (Overnan Age), the 1000th anniversary of the empire is upon you and travelers from all over the western region have made their way to the quiet town of Ashnel for a grand fair. A glorious celebration of ten centuries of peace and prosperity. Merchant stalls have crowded the streets selling goods from all over the empire. A melting pot of numerous different races, tribes, clans and professions who have come to entertain and to be entertained. In the center of town is the merchants square where dozens of different vendors sale their wares. Thousands of people big and small, young and old rush about going about their business and enjoying the festivities. In the center of the square, a small stage has been built where a group of magicians are preforming before a large audience. On the edge of the square, you find a large tavern called "Hallow's Inn". One by one the four of you find your way to Hallow's Inn for one reason or another. Within the tavern you find a large, heavy set human man behind the bar serving drinks to a couple dwarves shouting and laughing as they grab their drinks and make their way to a small table. The bar seems relatively empty as the fair outside seems to have drawn most potential customers outside. But you also notice what looks like a lone hooded high elf in the corner of the tavern, a gnome sitting at the opposite table with an elderly red skinned orc and a middle aged man on the table next to the two dwarves continuously downing one dwarven ale after another. A young human woman with golden blond hair can also be seen walking around the tavern, grabbing food from the bar and serving another elderly human woman who takes a seat at a small table next to the front door.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=atp0MuIQc_M


Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bellemere

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#, as written by Byte
“Silence is golden, but to speak… Ah, that truly is worth its weight in coin.”

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The quiet air enveloping the inn, barring rowdy laughter coming from the table having a jolly good time of it (the ale certainly playing a large part in that), was a luxury only given in rural towns such as this one. And nowhere was silence more welcomed than in the eyes of the Sisters.

A figure, obscured by shadows in the far corner of the inn, sat idly by; catching glimpses here and there of the activities undertaken by the patrons and workers, and flashing a bemused smile whenever she caught them looking back at her. She had forgotten how peaceful everything could be when whispers were absent and she could simply enjoy a lifestyle the likes of which was essentially impossible if you dealt in shady business practices. It’s that quiet moment when the grains were harvested and new seeds sown for the next, and the woman savoured the time.

Until her services were needed once more…

Entertainment came in many forms, but none were quite so amusing as the looks the young barmaid had given when Bellemere simply mimed wanting a drink. The question that came after, and it always came after, was answered differently depending on the woman’s mood. Sometimes a witch had cursed her with the voice of a toad and therefore she dare not speak, other times her mother had cut out the filth from her mouth. But typically she just left a note saying: “Forgive me, but the Gods were unkind and refused me a voice.”

Today it had earned her a heartfelt apology from the young girl, and a free drink and meal on the house which Bellemere accepted graciously as she always did.

With little else to occupy her time, Bellemere brandished a folded map and a piece of paper. The latter she hastily scribbled on and shoved towards the opposite end of her table, held in place by the now empty mug, before unfolding the map of Oarth and marking several locations and areas as though the woman had been planning a trip around the world.

The note that lay on the table firmly told anyone who’d read it: “Urgent business only.” double underlined.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Alyania Desina

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Alyania Desina had set out from her home in the Scalwood about two weeks ago. Her parents had tasked her with heading to the southlands to gather news and reports from the Greenwood rangers. Alyania made a request to head to the Millennial fair in Ashnel. Though she claimed it was to gather information for the people from all quarters of the Empire, it was in truth that she wished to see the fair. Her parent’s agreed and so she set off.

Alyania had made her way past the old ruins of Korhelm careful to avoid the bulk of the goblin horde that called it home. A few patrols were unlucky enough to cross her path. These met a swift end as Alyania made her way through the open plain and into the Greenwood.

Once in the Greenwood she made her way down river by boat with one of the Greenwood rangers. He gave his report and warned Alyania to be careful going south. He left her with his boat at the outskirts of Ennore. He wished her luck and vanished into the woods.

Alyania passed quickly through Ennore. What she saw there was troubling and her thoughts dwelt on it as she sailed on. Her mind went over what she saw over and over. She wondered what it all meant. She decided she would take a closer look on the way back home.

After days of sailing down the river Alyania pulled in the dock closest to Ashnel. The crowds had been more than Alyania had foreseen. She found herself quickly out of her element making her way through the peoples until she spotted the sign for the Hallow's Inn.

Alyania slipped into Hallow’s End her eyes quickly adjusting to the darkened room. Her gaze fell on the others in the tavern, many of which had turned to look at the newcomer briefly.

“Take a sit anywhere hunny! Be right with ya!” the barmaid said with a practiced smile.

Alyania took a visual survey of the tavern. The hooded high elf, the orc, and the silent human female with a map seemed to Alyania as the only likely threats here so she made sure to find a seat where she could see them and the door as she waited for the barmaid’s return.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Alyania Desina Character Portrait: Hilda Vaulke

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After days of travel on the open road, the humble tavern was always a welcome sight. This was a fact that Hilda knew quite well. The wandering warrior opened the door of the Hallow's Inn and was greeted by a reassuringly comfy atmosphere. The place was still quiet at this time of day, but certainly not deserted. The perfect time to relax and get one's bearings before heading out to explore the fair in town.

“Half a dwarven ale,” Hilda said to the bartender when she could get his attention, handing a few coins over the counter as he set the half-pint mug down on the bar. She thanked him and left the bar with her drink, searching for a table.

There may not have been many people in the pub at the moment, but the swordswoman knew better than to take a seat near the middle. The festivities would doubtless continue long into the night, and things would be getting pretty rowdy by then. And in any case, she preferred being somewhere quiet so she could enjoy her ale in peace.

Skirting around the edge of the room, Hilda spotted a table with a curious, hooded figure seated there. While she liked the quiet, some company wouldn't have gone amiss after travelling on her lonesome, and so she approached the stranger. While maintaining a respectful distance, of course.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken? I've a mind for some peace and quiet, but having someone to talk to for the first time in days would be a refreshing change, methinks.”

It was then that the warrior spotted the note left lying on the table. “Urgent business only.” She nodded in understanding.

“Ah, my apologies. I did not mean to intrude.”

An awkward pause lingered, whether she could have it any other way or not. Bellemere had spotted the woman dressed for battle and dully noted the question with a hasty look towards the rest of the inn.

She couldn't fault the want for some peace, and by the looks of it some the tables that were empty had been a bit too close to the dwarven howling. Others occupied by strangers she also couldn't fault the lady-knight for avoiding out of sheer habit. In particular the elven woman (who Bellemere had given a cold stare in acknowledgement).

“Let strangers be, who strangers be.” Perhaps one of the few less poetic phrases, but Bellemere thought apt to describe that situation. She paid the elf no more mind than she would an anxious child. Hypocrisy was one of her least favourite traits, anyway.

Instead she looked back to the woman, sizing her up perhaps; a soundless sigh making way for a weak smile as a hand grabbed the note and flipped it around.

A piece of charcoal made quick work of covering the note in a greeting: “Forgive the brash note, ma'am. Merely a means to discourage would-be traders, swindlers and other such folk here to waste a young woman's time.”

She jutted a finger at the stool opposite of hers. Talking was, perhaps, a welcome change indeed.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Alyania Desina Character Portrait: Hilda Vaulke

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#, as written by Sonofel


OOC - Skipping RTMX Until He Is Able To Post. ALSO, have been moving to new place past couple days, so forgive the absence BUT, I'm back, so lets do this shall we!

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As you all make your way into the tavern and receive your drinks, the sun high in a cloudless sky. A few customers trickle in and out of the tavern as the celebration roars outside. As you settle in, you notice a young red bearded dwarf clothed in a deep maroon red cape and dark leather armor with gloved hands. Strapped to his back is a short handed iron mace, with finely etched runes on the hilt. On his forehead is an extremely detailed tattoo. Strapped to his waist what appears to be a metallic symbol hooked to a small chain. The silver glint of the symbol almost seems to faintly glow dark blue as he slowly makes his way towards the hooded elf in the corner of the room. The young barkeep starts heading his direction to seemingly serve him a drink, but the dwarf calmly clenches the symbol on his waist and glares at the girl. His eyes seem to change color to a bright red. Without a word, she takes a few steps back and nods. Bellemere and Hilda catch a brief glimpse at the dwarf as he walks past. He stops for a moment next to your table and glances at the two of you. Without a word, he continues on and takes a sit at the hooded elf's table. Bellemere, from her time as a silent sister, instantly recognizes the tattoo on his forehead as the symbol of the Inquisitors. A powerful and highly secretive dwarven organization that is known to hunt down runic artifacts and horde arcane knowledge within the vaults of Errondur. Their prowess with runic magic is feared by many. As the crowed in the tavern continues to grow, it seems many have arrived for lunch. In the corner, the high elf lowers her hood and begins whispering to the inquisitor, but you can't quite make out what she is saying over the growing noise.

INQUISITORS TATTOO

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Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Hilda Vaulke

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#, as written by Byte


This is a collaborative post by Byte (Bellemere) and Gamer_Templar (Hilda)


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Hilda was all too happy to take up a seat besides her new acquaintance, flashing the mute woman a friendly smile. She took a swig from her ale, noticing that the handwriting on the note was clearer and more eloquent than she had been expecting. Perhaps this mute was more than just a simple peasant girl who happened to be unlucky with her lot in life?

“I, ah, I suppose I should introduce myself,” said the swordswoman after a minute or so of amicable silence. “The name's Hilda. Yours?”

The Silent Sister leaned nearer, deftly using the remaining area on the note to scribble down a single name. “Bellemere.” Hilda nodded in acknowledgement. Quite a nice name.

Bellemere paused for a moment, contemplating the thought of grabbing another piece of paper (which she had been running out of as well), but opted instead to mime a quick question. A finger pointed from Hilda to herself, then to her lips. As if asking the swordswoman whether she knew any less tedious ways to talk.

Hilda took a moment to work out what Bellemere was asking of her, before giving a hesitant nod. “I did learn a few hand signals back when I served with the local garrison back home. But I doubt that would help us much here, unless we’re planning to storm some battlements any time soon.” She gave a half-hearted chuckle at her own joke, a tinge of disappointment in herself. But then she brightened up a little as an idea came to mind.

“Ah, but… well, this may be asking too much of you, but if you’ve the time and the patience, perhaps you could teach me a few signs? I’m a good learner, and perhaps it may come in useful in the future. Who can say?”

A bemused smile faded into a frown, and Bellemere had given a moment's pause to find a couple gestures that were a bit more obvious in practice. She had half a heart to shake her head, but after some digging the woman nodded to herself and took the previously written note. Being careful to make sure Hilda paid attention.

A finger pointed at ‘forgive’, while the other hand made the gestures as slowly as Bellemere could manage; hand squeezed to a fist and moving in a clockwise motion over her chest.

Next she flipped the note and, with a half-closed fist, waved thrice in quick succession before pointing at ‘urgent’.

Years of being taught the language hadn’t given way to explaining it to other people, but Bellemere figured giving a couple examples might at least sate the stranger’s curiosity if nothing else. And by mouthing the words while making the necessary motions, the sister was able to make another person wise in her own language.

While Hilda stumbled a little at first in picking up the basics, like the proper positioning of her hands, she was able to get the gestures consistently right after a couple of tries. It was not unlike the art of a spellcaster waving their hands as part of an incantation. For the warrior, there was a small thrill to be had in trying and learning new things. It was something interesting to jot down in her journal, for one thing.

Bellemere was just about to point out another word to teach Hilda when a red-bearded dwarf in a deeper-hued cloak passed by their table and briefly stopped…

“Hmm? Can we help- Oh…”

…before carrying on after a simple glance in their direction. Hilda watched him go, towards a table where a hooded elf was seated at, before turning back to Bellemere.

“That was… odd. Not someone here for you with ‘urgent business’, I take it?”

Bellemere feigned ignorance by offering a shrug, she certainly wasn't expecting to meet anyone here. However, that symbol beaming from the dwarven forehead struck her like a blow to the head. It was unmistakably the symbol of the inquisitors.

Surprise turned to intrigue, and the sister felt the urge to eavesdrop. She'd noted the empty mugs of Hilda and herself, and by quick admission to the swordswoman that this chat was going to last a bit longer than the typical five minute pitch, Bellemere grabbed the mugs. And in a pretend-detour that took her deliberately within hearing range of the whispering elf and dwarf, ears pricked up to catch fragments of what their secrets entailed.

Bellemere did so again, taking the same deliberate route back from the bar to Hilda (This time happy to pay the expenses for two ales) and trying to decipher what it is that brought this elf and inquisitor together. Unfortunately, the growing crowd did little to help in this endeavour. But to inch closer was a risk the sister wasn't willing to take.

She slid a mug over towards her companion, urging her to resume their little lesson while keeping a tentative eye towards the dwarf. Hilda agreed to play along, while straining her ears to try and make out anything those two were saying, likely to little effect.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Alyania Desina Character Portrait: Hilda Vaulke

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Alyania kept her eyes watching the people of the tavern as she sipped her drink. In and out they went. Alyania's eyes drifted over to the table where two human women spoke from time to time... well one of them spoke.. the other just made some unknown hand signs.

Alyania soon grew bored of the two and let her eyes wonder yet again...

That is when the Dwarf walked in. Alyania couldn't help but watch the dwarf. How he stood out with his red outfit and strange gear that seemed to pulse with magic. She couldn't place the strange tattoo no matter now many times she looked over it's design. Alyania noted the brief glance to the two women before the dwarf went to join the hooded elf. Alyania glanced back to the women wondering if they knew him but they seemed as puzzled as she was.

Alyania decided to keep watch trying to see if she could make out anything the dwarf and elf said.

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