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Bellemere

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

60 views · located in Sandbox Fantasy World

a character in “The Valleys of War”, as played by Byte

Description

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THE SILENT SISTER
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“Silence is golden, but to speak… Ah, that truly is worth its weight in coin.”
Terrible Things - April Smith

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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
C L A S S
Rogue


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A P P E A R A N C E
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Unassuming in her appearance, Bellemere plays and looks the part of a striking lady. Well, no, more a commoner that's well off. It's hard to tell with the mix of pretty clothes and a physique that says she doesn't mind getting her hands dirty. And that's by design, to keep people guessing as to where she truly comes from.
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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 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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P H Y S I C A L I T Y
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Often described as nimble and quick, Bellemere adheres to the typical rogue archetypes many have come to expect. However it's false to assume frailty because of that. Sure, a lumbering oaf twice her size isn't exactly at a disadvantage given a frontal assault, but that's not Bellemere's style. And size matters little when you're fighting shadows.
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M A G I C
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Magic is an alien concept to Bellemere. There are sisters of her order who have dabbled in illusory abilities; playing mind tricks or deceptions that might have some uses, but the woman herself has never had much affinity with the arcane. There's a hint, but she's more keen to rely on her wit and charm to do the tricking. As such, weaknesses can be attributed to never having met any mages who posed a threat and as such has little experience fighting them. They're never found on her hitlist, and those who have been weren't knowledgeable about the blade that slit their throat.

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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.


H O M E
Shrine of Whispers
S E X U A L I T Y
Flexible, very flexible
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



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R E L A T I O N S H I P S
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Image Hilda Vaulke - Intriqued; Acquainted
It's easy to see why Bellemere would take the opportunity to gain some insight from strangers, and that job's made much easier if they show the incentive to talk. Plus, genuine manners are a rarity these days. A chance meeting led to Bellemere and Hilda sharing the road until such a time comes when they have to part ways.

So begins...

Bellemere's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Makana Valhai Character Portrait: Lich Character Portrait: Dranten Character Portrait: Skelly, the wandering skeleton Character Portrait: Kerpheres Character Portrait: Elizabeth Margo Character Portrait: Ein Crowley Character Portrait: Gaveth Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Hilda Vaulke Character Portrait: Moonlight Driftwood

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The door went suddenly open and two tall figures walked in. As they went into the reach of the lights, it was revealed that these are two men, one wearing a mage's robe and a pretty silly hat, while the other one, a real mountain when it comes to height, was wearing an armor made out of some strange material no one in the room could recognize. Both took a seat at one of the free tables, contemplating the warmth and the cozy atmosphere the Jackall had to offer.
“Now that's some lovely place, don't you think so, brother?” asked the mage, smirking the whole time. “Perhaps I can make it even lovelier. Hey, bartender, tonight all drinks go on me!” he yelled, so everyone present could hear him. “Now that's how you attract their attention.” he said quiet towards his companion.
“Was it really necessary, brother?” the tall man made himself more comfortable on the table and took off his helmet.
“Well, if you want people to notice you, you have to first pique their interest. And that's what I did. You need a job and this place looks better like an orc's yurt, so stop complaining.” the mage also took off the silly hat.
“I can't say you didn't pique their interest. I just can't stand all those people looking at me like that.” the warrior noticed too many stares coming their way. This wasn't going to be a peaceful evening, for sure.
“Well, I only threw the bait, now I'm waiting for the catch.” the mage didn't see that bothered, smirking a lot. Oh, this evening will be interesting, for sure.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lich Character Portrait: Dranten Character Portrait: Skelly, the wandering skeleton Character Portrait: Kerpheres Character Portrait: Gaveth Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Hilda Vaulke Character Portrait: Moonlight Driftwood

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The Spicy Jackal… a curious name for a tavern, but Hilda was not one to question it too much, particularly as said establishment offered a welcome reprieve from the open road for herself and her companion. A couple of drinks and a table far enough away from the general hubbub was all that they needed to enjoy themselves.

Yet even from where they were sat, the pair could all too easily hear a loud voice addressing all and sundry, promising free drinks for everyone. The swordswoman glanced in the direction of the speaker to see an armoured warrior and a robed wizard, both clad in quite possibly the most ridiculous-looking garb she had seen outside of circus performers.

“Must be some deep pockets they have, to make such an offer so readily,” Hilda wryly remarked before turning back to her friend. “What is it about these places that attracts such outlandish people?”

Outlandish certainly was the proper word for it. The woman beside the warrior shook her head.

Although truth be told, Bellemere had only duly noted the rowdy duo inviting everyone to buy a drink on their tab. Amusing, if somewhat inconspicuous given that strangers didn’t typically respond well to loud-mouths with money to spend. Not unless they could steal it, anyway. Similarly, the mute woman hadn’t given much thought entertaining the prospect of taking that offer and instead resumed scraping dirt from underneath her fingernails with the point of a dagger; as much a need as it was a way to disguise her spying habit.

She took some notes, like the obvious skeleton in the room (which certainly made her turn for a better look), the giant fellow in armour and its much smaller companion, but otherwise most people went without comment. All the same, Bellemere had her metaphorical guard up. Ears pricked and catching whispers so carelessly dropped.

She paused, looking at Hilda with something not unlike a smirk. The swordswoman caught that look, and flashing back a smile of her own she said, “Heard something interesting, I take it?”

Smirk pronounced, edging the shimmering of a grin at the bemusement. Still, it wasn't exactly high magic to tell from obvious signs. Bellemere, for all her training, never did master subtlety when it came to expressing joy anyway. She nodded, a finger jutted towards the growing mess of a group.

With months of petty payments and guard patrol duty for merchants that sold the equivalent of cow dung, well… Maybe taking a chance with the not so inconspicuous party had some more value.

Plus, free drinks.

Bellemere gestured her companion to follow, shifting behind the swordswoman as to adopt a more obedient and passive body language. She'd trust Hilda to get the hint. Made more sense that she'd take the lead anyway.

Although in their short time, typically, the mute woman jumped for the chance to make would-be friends. There was something about getting a clue from this rag-tag band of individuals who had all congregated around the jolly mage and his less enthusiastic brother.

Hilda took note of her companion’s excitement. It didn’t take long to weigh up the pros and cons of embarking on this venture. After all, if they felt that it wasn’t worth the money, they could always try their luck elsewhere. “I suppose it can’t hurt to see what they’re offering. Shall we?”

The swordswoman got up from her seat, making her way towards the motley group with Bellemere in tow. She gave them a polite greeting as she approached. Bellemere did much the same, nodding along with Hilda's more friendly and approachable introduction.

“Any room for two more?” she asked with a warm smile. “If this is for a job, my friend and I would certainly be interested in joining you.”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Lich Character Portrait: Dranten Character Portrait: Skelly, the wandering skeleton Character Portrait: Kerpheres Character Portrait: Gaveth Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Hilda Vaulke Character Portrait: Moonlight Driftwood

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#, as written by Zaria
Wait? What the hell is going on here? First there's this another weirdo with a mask, then yet another masked weirdo steals him, and leads to a table with random patrons. And now... just as we're following, cause of course brothers had to move.
Well, fine, I would check it myself. Anyway, as we move, yet another two join in.

“Any room for two more? If this is for a job, my friend and I would certainly be interested in joining you.”
Man, crowdy. - He thought, while Lich, and her friend slowly grew annoyed. Too much time is wasted here, in Lich's opinion.

"I guess there is... - Gaveth said -... we could get a bigger fish." Fish? Really? Man, they'll think I'm a fisherman, from a small village, which happens to be the truth, though that's a long, long... gone past.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lich Character Portrait: Dranten Character Portrait: Skelly, the wandering skeleton Character Portrait: Kerpheres Character Portrait: Gaveth Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Hilda Vaulke Character Portrait: Moonlight Driftwood

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#, as written by Arkanistka
Not noticing any reaction from the mysterious person, Kerph decided to wave his hand in front of the weirdo, trying to get anything out of the person. Still seeing no reaction from behind the white mask, he looked at the other person, the one being dragged to the table in the first place. “So, I guess someone isn't gonna answer my question. But I have a different one for you, friend: you seemed interested in our little group, probably wanting to join. Is that assumption correct?” the mage took a long look at the second masked figure, this one wearing comfortable robes.
Meanwhile, Dranten looked over his shoulder to notice more people approaching their little squad. On one side, he didn't mind having an advantage in numbers, on the other though: the more people in, the less gold for everyone. Or, like the shabby guy said, they could go for a bigger fish. He saw two women, one of them dressed typically as the Norsemen and the other was dressed more like a lady, though something seemed unusual about her, like some crucial part of her body was probably cut out of her living flesh. The warrior knew there were some cults that cripple their own members, but he didn't see the point in such things.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lich Character Portrait: Dranten Character Portrait: Skelly, the wandering skeleton Character Portrait: Kerpheres Character Portrait: Gaveth Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Hilda Vaulke Character Portrait: Moonlight Driftwood

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Lost and confused, the skeleton just realised he had been driven into the group by a stranger who also seemed interested in the party and who understood Skelly was trying to join it as well.

And it wasn't going to end soon. Two more figures were coming towards the party, and their intentions of joining weren't hidden.

As the two newcomers were approaching, the mage spoke to Skelly : "So, I guess someone isn't gonna answer my question. But I have a different one for you, friend: you seemed interested in our little group, probably wanting to join. Is that assumption correct ?". Skelly responded by a nod and a friendly thumb up with his gloved hand.

Though something felt odd. He had this strange feeling that someone discovered his actual condition. How would they notice ? Skelly could only think about some sort of magic to explain how he would have been found out. Has magic evolved that much since he was dead ? Nothing in his book told him about "Necromancing detection". Maybe some other forces could be the reason of how he was revealed. But for now, he doesn't know who uncovered him, or even if someone really did, it was just a bad feeling about all this.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lich Character Portrait: Dranten Character Portrait: Skelly, the wandering skeleton Character Portrait: Kerpheres Character Portrait: Gaveth Character Portrait: Bellemere Character Portrait: Hilda Vaulke Character Portrait: Moonlight Driftwood

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#, as written by Arkanistka
A slight nod and a thumb up was the only answer Kerph got from the weird masked man. “Not the most talkative one, I see. Almost like my brother.” he chuckled, looking over to Dranten, who was focused on those two women who joined the little group slowly growing in numbers. The mage couldn't help but read the minds of the people gathered around the notice board. Oh, he looks silly in the eyes of the Norsewoman? That's quite adorable coming from someone who's wearing pelts no matter the temperatures outside. The other woman, the one accompanying the swordswoman... She piqued his interest, as he never heard of the Silent Sisters. He needed to find out more. Just like he needed to find out more about the drowish cult the weird masked figure sitting at the table was a part of. The other masked figure... He literally went into a completely hollow cranium, he could see the bones, completely lacking any sort of flesh to cover it, with thoughts swarming around, but never reaching the place where he was standing. He withdraw, not wanting to be affected too much with this view. Next person was the old soldier. Or a fisherman, huh. There was something interesting about this man though, a place inside his brain, covered in darkness, where Kerph couldn't walk into. Some demonic magic, obviously, denying him access. Well, he was never good in demonology, so he left, but still wanting to investigate further. Another brainless skull met him, as he tried to read the thoughts of the armored giant. He hated all those undead, or rather necromancers who totally fucked up their jobs with recreating a life form. And the last brain – he didn't even get an actual opportunity to try, as he literally was kicked out by the masked woman. The way she protected her privacy left him a bit dazed, but he quickly regained composure after he was poked by his own brother.
Dranten noticed how his brother was looking at all people. Mind reading, as always. He really was irritated by his bro sticking his nose into others lives, like this would be any of his business. He poke Kerph with an elbow, which je noticed was a good move, as his brother seemed to not feel that well after the mind reading, which was a bit disconcerting, for something like this rarely occurred.