Morning Stars
07-27-07, 09:04 PM
Name: Dannika Valaan
Class: Orphan Peasant
Race: Human
Age: 6 years old
Height: 3' 10"
Weight: 42 lbs
Hair color: Ash blond
Eye color: The left is very dark brown, nearly black. The right is a milky blue with barely a seen pupil.
Appearance: A thin child with a serious face, Dannika's eyes always seem to be brewing with some never-forgotten storm. It is her eyes that are, in fact, her most distinguishing feature. The left is nearly black, the pupil a mere shadow against the deep brown. The left is a cataract milk blue, scars reaching up and down from the eye in jagged, angry lines. The eyebrow above is split in half, the damage done to the cheek below warping her smile into half a smirk. Her pale blond hair, containing more highlights of dust than gold, falls just past her shoulders in thick, uneven waves. Her wardrobe consists of the usual Salvic girl's clothes. Thick long dresses of worn velvet and woolen tights, all donated from various noble families and good samaritans to the orphanage are the normal, along with one very special item. A hair clip, with the enameled sigil of a small green hummingbird, is her only personal possession. She never lets it out of her sight and if it cannot be found valiantly trying to hold back her wild tresses, it is tucked safely away within a pocket.
Personality: Quiet and reserved, her troubled expression leads many people to think that Dannika is an unfriendly little urchin. However, she is a kind child who cannot bear to see pain in another person. While her shy nature would make it difficult for her to make friends, her disfigurement renders it nearly impossible. Instead, she's learned to befriend herself, toughening her metaphorical skin until insults become petty things that she rarely listens to. It is possible to get to her, but once the floodgates have broken, a few tears spilled, she is quick to compose herself and continue on. Though she doesn't admit it, even to herself, she places the blame for her mother's death on herself. It eats away at her self confidence like a cancer, and helps to keep her voice quiet and her words few.
Weapons: None
Armor: None
Items: Small hummingbird hairpin of enamel and tin
Skills: None
History: Salvar has never been a particularly forgiving country. The deep snows and chilling winds claim many lives every year, the elderly and the young alike. It's one of those climates that make survival truly of the fittest, bringing out the worst in people. The dishonest will steal and kill, the honest will fall to depths they never thought possible. It is in this world that the worst of cycles repeat. To one fifteen year old orphan, the worst of news came. The house she'd called home for ten years was scheduled for destruction, a sanctuary for the Church taking it's place. The homeless children were thrown to the streets where they'd been sheltered in vain from, and the cold nights descended upon them like hungry dogs. Most did not survive, but Saskia Valaan was not most. She was a slight teenager, a fragile beauty that spoke of a strong line of Salvic descent. While the cold did not take her life, hunger nearly did. When the offer to give up her body for the money to buy food came, survival instinct kicked in and went for the throat. The girl soon found herself a whore, but she was at least warm and fed and alive, which was more than could be said for those she'd grown up with. But like most young girls raised in such a situation, she knew nothing of the world and how it worked so hard to beat down the poor and needy. She was pregnant, and again cast away by any and all who looked at her. It was in the gutters that she carried and eventually bore her child, and it was here, just days later, that she died. Saskia was known only by enough people that the crying baby left with the nearest orphanage's caretaker was given a name, and the one possession that her mother had never parted with. A hummingbird hairpin.
The first few years weren't bad. The head of the house was a kind woman, who truly cared for the children. It wasn't until she began to see a strange man that things became a nightmare. Unbeknown to the mistress, he was involved in a dark practice, the cult known as Pounds of Flesh. They were a circle of nobles who viewed the peasantry as the filth of the earth, and would not rest until they felt they had amassed enough retribution against the filth in their blood and flesh. It was the dark eyed girl with cheap hairpin and never ending smile that he targeted first. In the night, a scream cut through the orphanage. The mistress burst into the room, only to find Dannika held down to her bed, a knife's blade hacking messily at her face.
"Little girls in Salvar should have dark hair and eyes or gold hair and blue eyes!" the man was screaming, as he tried desperately to carve out the child's eyes. She was no match for him, but her screams had called for help just in time. The mistress of the house grabbed the fire poker, and within a few moments later, the slain man fell limply onto the child he'd been intending to kill. The words that Dannika has spoken since that accident can be counted on one hand.
Eventually, the mistress resigned, bringing with her a new one. She was strict and distant, but not unkind to the children. Danger was gone from their lives, for the time being, but still Dannika remains silent, the physical vestiges of the day a glaring hint of what lies beneath the scarred surface.
Class: Orphan Peasant
Race: Human
Age: 6 years old
Height: 3' 10"
Weight: 42 lbs
Hair color: Ash blond
Eye color: The left is very dark brown, nearly black. The right is a milky blue with barely a seen pupil.
Appearance: A thin child with a serious face, Dannika's eyes always seem to be brewing with some never-forgotten storm. It is her eyes that are, in fact, her most distinguishing feature. The left is nearly black, the pupil a mere shadow against the deep brown. The left is a cataract milk blue, scars reaching up and down from the eye in jagged, angry lines. The eyebrow above is split in half, the damage done to the cheek below warping her smile into half a smirk. Her pale blond hair, containing more highlights of dust than gold, falls just past her shoulders in thick, uneven waves. Her wardrobe consists of the usual Salvic girl's clothes. Thick long dresses of worn velvet and woolen tights, all donated from various noble families and good samaritans to the orphanage are the normal, along with one very special item. A hair clip, with the enameled sigil of a small green hummingbird, is her only personal possession. She never lets it out of her sight and if it cannot be found valiantly trying to hold back her wild tresses, it is tucked safely away within a pocket.
Personality: Quiet and reserved, her troubled expression leads many people to think that Dannika is an unfriendly little urchin. However, she is a kind child who cannot bear to see pain in another person. While her shy nature would make it difficult for her to make friends, her disfigurement renders it nearly impossible. Instead, she's learned to befriend herself, toughening her metaphorical skin until insults become petty things that she rarely listens to. It is possible to get to her, but once the floodgates have broken, a few tears spilled, she is quick to compose herself and continue on. Though she doesn't admit it, even to herself, she places the blame for her mother's death on herself. It eats away at her self confidence like a cancer, and helps to keep her voice quiet and her words few.
Weapons: None
Armor: None
Items: Small hummingbird hairpin of enamel and tin
Skills: None
History: Salvar has never been a particularly forgiving country. The deep snows and chilling winds claim many lives every year, the elderly and the young alike. It's one of those climates that make survival truly of the fittest, bringing out the worst in people. The dishonest will steal and kill, the honest will fall to depths they never thought possible. It is in this world that the worst of cycles repeat. To one fifteen year old orphan, the worst of news came. The house she'd called home for ten years was scheduled for destruction, a sanctuary for the Church taking it's place. The homeless children were thrown to the streets where they'd been sheltered in vain from, and the cold nights descended upon them like hungry dogs. Most did not survive, but Saskia Valaan was not most. She was a slight teenager, a fragile beauty that spoke of a strong line of Salvic descent. While the cold did not take her life, hunger nearly did. When the offer to give up her body for the money to buy food came, survival instinct kicked in and went for the throat. The girl soon found herself a whore, but she was at least warm and fed and alive, which was more than could be said for those she'd grown up with. But like most young girls raised in such a situation, she knew nothing of the world and how it worked so hard to beat down the poor and needy. She was pregnant, and again cast away by any and all who looked at her. It was in the gutters that she carried and eventually bore her child, and it was here, just days later, that she died. Saskia was known only by enough people that the crying baby left with the nearest orphanage's caretaker was given a name, and the one possession that her mother had never parted with. A hummingbird hairpin.
The first few years weren't bad. The head of the house was a kind woman, who truly cared for the children. It wasn't until she began to see a strange man that things became a nightmare. Unbeknown to the mistress, he was involved in a dark practice, the cult known as Pounds of Flesh. They were a circle of nobles who viewed the peasantry as the filth of the earth, and would not rest until they felt they had amassed enough retribution against the filth in their blood and flesh. It was the dark eyed girl with cheap hairpin and never ending smile that he targeted first. In the night, a scream cut through the orphanage. The mistress burst into the room, only to find Dannika held down to her bed, a knife's blade hacking messily at her face.
"Little girls in Salvar should have dark hair and eyes or gold hair and blue eyes!" the man was screaming, as he tried desperately to carve out the child's eyes. She was no match for him, but her screams had called for help just in time. The mistress of the house grabbed the fire poker, and within a few moments later, the slain man fell limply onto the child he'd been intending to kill. The words that Dannika has spoken since that accident can be counted on one hand.
Eventually, the mistress resigned, bringing with her a new one. She was strict and distant, but not unkind to the children. Danger was gone from their lives, for the time being, but still Dannika remains silent, the physical vestiges of the day a glaring hint of what lies beneath the scarred surface.