ayzrules

Steamtown: Blood and Gunpowder

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Isadora Violetta Langdale
_{PLACE // Langdale's saloon, the Marketplace
TIME // Late morning, noon}

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Isadora blinked groggily and roused herself. It was well past the time that people normally got up, but then again, Isadora worked unusual hours.

Isadora brushed out her hair the best that she could before putting it up into a messy bun. She envied her older sister, Minerva, whose hair was wavy enough that it fell naturally in loose ringlets, but not so curly that it was perpetually frizzy and impossible to manage. Unfortunately for Isadora, her caramel-colored locks fit the latter description quite beautifully.

Isadora walked across the cramped room that she shared with her older sister to the rickety old wardrobe that stood in the corner. Whereas Minerva's side of the room was neat and meticulously organized, Isadora's side was utter chaos. Minerva had long given up trying to get Isadora to do anything tidily.

Isadora donned a lightly-flared prairie skirt of ruffled rose calico that brushed her ankles and a fitted cotton blouse decorated with a few ruffled areas at the sleeve and neckline large brass buttons ran down the front of her blouse. She pulled on a pair of Minerva's practical boots for the time being-she would change into something flashier when it came time to open the saloon for business later in the day-and topped the entire ensemble off with a functional leather belt. Isadora decided that she would pinch a bit of lace and line the hem of her skirt in the aforementioned lace if she ever got the chance. Lace was very hard to come by, as expensive as it was, but if Isadora got lucky, she'd meet a nice rich lady who would be willing to trade a lace ruff or a pair of lace gloves for a bit of information. Though, Isadora reflected, she would never ruin a pair of lace gloves in order to decorate one of her plainer skirts.

It was Market Day, which meant that Minerva had been out all morning haggling with the vendors hawking their wares. Isadora felt sorry for the poor vendors. Minerva was one hell of a haggler. Something about her sharp, eternally disapproving eyes, Isadora imagined. And the way her older sister talked-like she was murdering each word as it came out of her mouth. Their mother referred to Minerva's extremely precise way of speaking as clipped. Mariana and Rosalina referred to it as mean.

Isadora made her way down the narrow staircase, which ended in the small office that Eleanora called home. Isadora's mother was there right now, busily scribbling away. None of the Langdales knew much in terms of reading (though Mariana and Rosalina had taught themselves more), but Eleanora and Minerva were good with numbers, a trait that Isadora most certainly had not inherited.

"Isa, finally awake, I see," Eleanora said without looking up. "I know what you've been fixin' to do-all's I'm sayin' is that you best get it done 'fore it's time to open. Use that pretty face of yours and see if you can buy me some new shoes for real cheap while you're at it, hmm?" Although an unknown disease had left her mother crippled when Isadora was only eleven, she had lost none of her brusque, no-nonsense attitude.

Isadora laughed and planted a kiss on her mother's cheek. "You got it, Ma," she replied affectionately, grinning widely. Isadora unlocked the lock box that contained the earnings for the week, counting out a handful of coins. It was Market Day, and by god, Isadora was going to shop.

Isadora was just about to step outside when a face popped out in front of her. "Isa! Are you goin' to the market?" Rosalina asked excitedly, her green eyes twinkling with mischief. Isadora laughed.

"Rosa! What are you up to now?" she questioned, picking up the armored parasol that the twins had created for her out of a durable but thin piece of metal Isadora had managed to acquire from a wealthy old man a couple of years back. He'd been looking for his daughter-something about her running off with a highly improper young man-and Isadora had traded him everything she knew about the aforementioned daughter for the valuable metal. She had planned to sell it at the market, but Mariana and Rosalina had insisted that Isadora let them tinker around with it. They were convinced it was some obscure remnant of the Old World, and Isadora frankly had no reason to believe otherwise. Out of the twins' efforts came a plum purple parasol decorated with little white bows and rosettes and gold swirls made from bits of scrap metal. Isadora adored the parasol; it was very pretty, it blocked the sun extremely well, and although she'd never had to use the bulletproof feature of it before, Isadora was sure that would come in handy some day in the future. She'd never been directly attacked, per se-sure, there were riff-raff in Blackfinger who thought to steal from the saloon, seeing that it was pretty much run by women, but Isadora's honeyed tongue and sweet smile usually deterred them. If Isadora's wiles didn't work, then Minerva's revolver and shotgun usually did the job very nicely. And the twins were perpetually rigging up some sort of contraption or the other. They had plenty of potentially deadly gadgets on hand, if the need arose.

"Well, I jus' wanted to come with you," Rosalina answered, sticking out her lower lip and giving her older sister big puppy-dog eyes.

Isadora frowned in mock-disapproval. "And have you finished all the dishes, young lady?" Isadora asked.

Rosalina's guilty look was all the answer she needed. Isadora sighed and relented. "Fine. Come along. But make sure you finish those dishes 'fore opening, you hear? Otherwise Ma will have your head."

"Splendid!" Rosalina exclaimed happily, her chestnut-colored curls bouncing up and down as she bounded out the door. Isadora shook her head and smiled to herself before following.

Langdale's stood in a convenient location in between a mess of piers and wharves along the Great River and the train station. It was the perfect spot for intercepting any relevant gossip. Normally, Isadora liked to find the bargers, but today, all the action would be in the marketplace. Isadora linked arms with Rosalina, balancing a basket in the crook of her free arm. "Are you goin' to tell me why you wanted to come so badly today, Rosa?" Isadora questioned, appraising her younger sister with a slight tilt of her head.

Rosalina grinned wickedly. "Nope."

Isadora let out an exasperated huff. "Don't play coy with me, missy. I'll be damned if this ain't about that explosive thing you and Maria have been working on for months."

Rosalina deflated slightly. "I should've known that you already knew," she groaned. "Will you tell Ma or Minerva?"

"Not if you don't accidentally blow our house down, no," was Isadora's cheeky response.

Rosalina smiled broadly. "That's why you're my favorite sister."

Isadora arched an eyebrow. "You sure that it ain't Maria, now? You two are as thick as thieves, mmm," Isadora teased lightly.

Rosalina shoo her head fervently, chestnut curls bouncing. "Nuh-uh, Isa. It's you, and you know it!"

Isadora laughed and rolled her eyes. "Kindly do shove off, Rosa," she answered, her dark eyes sparkling with mirth. The two sisters had reached the marketplace, and Rosa's emerald-green eyes flitted from one vendor to the next, searching for anything of interest. Isadora watched her with an amused expression on her face. She let Rosa survey the marketplace for another few moments before digging into her coin purse and pressing a couple of coins into Rosalina's hand. "Meet me back here in two hours, you hear? We gotta get back 'fore it's time to open the saloon." Rosa nodded quickly and dashed off.

Isadora immediately turned to the matter at hand: shopping. She managed to procure a jar of lip tint, a pretty little sun hat decorated with a wide burgundy sash and a bow, and Ma's new boots. For Minerva, Isadora purchased a plain wooden comb, as she'd accidentally snapped her sister's old comb while trying to untangle her impossibly frizzy hair the other day. Isadora shouted greetings and animatedly chatted with others as she went on her way; most of the faces in Blackfinger were easily recognizable to her.

After concluding a lively conversation about the scintillating topics of decorative millinery and Mrs. Blingchester's potential extra-marital affairs with her friend Joanna (Isadora was a firm believer in small, dainty little top hats adorned with an equally small feather or rosette, while Joanna had an unfortunate propensity for wide-brimmed monstrosities adorned with ostentatious poufs and ruffles), Isadora wound her way into the middle of a group of vendors selling firearms. She immediately dismissed the more practical options, instead examining the more decorative pieces. There was a gorgeous ebony-stock percussion muff-pistol that would have suited Minerva well, Isadora thought, if Minerva actually cared about the aesthetics of her weapons (which she didn't). There were a couple of blades with intricately carved hilts, and even one that was inlaid with rubies and pearls that twinkled prettily in the bright sunlight. They were well beyond her means, of course, but who said that a girl couldn't look?

One or two of the passerby gave her strange looks-what was a young woman carrying a parasol decorated in bows and cloth flowers, of all things, doing here?-but otherwise, business was as usual...until a scuffle broke out a couple of feet away from Isadora.

Isadora watched with interest as a man yelled at another about stealing, punctuating his words with violent blows. Isadora felt like rolling her eyes. Men. Ain't there anythin' they can do without hittin' each other? she thought incredulously. Nevertheless, it was over rather quickly, and the man apologized for his actions before continuing on his way. Isadora was thrilled. These things weren't necessarily uncommon, no, but Isadora was an artful spinner. Oh yes, she'd have plenty to say about the incident.

Rolling Thunder

The Alumnallen Castle in the city of Corvell
The sixteenth day of the tenth moon, in the year twenty-eight hundred and forty-six

Violetta stared at her reflection in the crude mirror that Cynthia had fashioned out of a piece of glass and spare bits of cloth. Sweet, pretty Cynthia, with not a mean bone in her body and an understanding of other people that most of the bluntly practical Alumnallens lacked. Violetta silently thanked the younger woman as she dipped her fingers into the small wooden bowl beside her and used the powder to cover up the bruises on her face. Prince Edwyrd Forrester, who was older than Princess Phillipa but younger than Queen Letitia (thank the moon and stars above for that), was prone to hitting anyone who displeased him, not just Violetta. There were a score of serving men who could attest to that. Itervians would have been disapproving, the Cyrainese would have been scandalized, and the Meraliti would have been horrified, but here in Corvell, the capital city of Alumnall, nobody so much as batted an eye. It was an accepted fact of the Almerinte-Alumnallen nobles and royalty were notorious for their quick intellect and their quicker tempers. Nothing to be done about it.

Cynthia was a chambermaid, tasked with tidying up the various rooms of the Alumnallen castle, including those currently occupied by a lady who had a complexion that was strikingly similar to Violetta's. Though Violetta frequently retired to the straw pallet that served as her bed much later than Cynthia did, the other woman somehow always knew when to filch some of the wondrous powder, the goddesses bless her soul.

Violetta finished up with the powder and smoothed out the front of the plain, unassuming beige skirt that she wore. She also had on a matching blouse devoid of any frills or decoration. She pulled her Meraliti-black hair back into a tight bun and scooped up the scrolls beside her bed. Violetta had stayed up quite late in order to ascertain that all the information in the scrolls were, in fact, accurate. She then gathered her skirts and left the small room she shared with Cynthia, preparing herself for the trek to Princess Phillipa's chambers.

Violetta kept her head down as she hurried by. While some of the serving staff, like Cynthia, were perfectly accepting of Violetta's presence, others seemed uncertain and wary around her. When she first took on her position in the castle, the servants were quite scandalized. They'd either treated her like she was nonexistent, were openly belligerent, or were entirely unsure of what to make of her. Some tried to address her as "m'lady", due to the fact that she would have been a lady in her current position if she'd been full-blooded, which Violetta put an end to immediately. She was no lady, and she wasn't delusional enough to believe that her current duties in helping the youngest princess run Alumnall automatically nullified the inescapable truth that she was a half-blood, and half-bloods had no place in Almerinte, least of all in an important ministerial post.

Violetta was two corridors away from her destination when the bells began to ring. One, two, and she was rounding the corner of the first corridor. Three, four, and she was halfway down the second corridor. Five, six, and she was a couple feet away from the elegant wooden doors that led to the princess's chambers. Seven, eight, and the guard stationed outside had caught sight of her and knocked. The last chime of the bell faded away as the guard showed her in at exactly eight o'clock in the morning.

This had been Violetta's routine for the past ten years.

Princess Phillipa Forrester was wearing a military-inspired tea colored affair that day. It was trimmed in chocolate-brown velvet, and large brass buttons ran down the front. Violetta thought that it suited Phillipa very well-it conveyed her clipped way of speaking and her no-nonsense demeanor perfectly.

Pippa glanced up as Violetta walked inside, her arms overflowing with scrolls, just as the bells finished chiming. She grinned inwardly. Violetta was nothing if not punctual, and Pippa loved punctuality in a person. Pippa was breaking her fast on fried wild mushrooms, sliced pears, boiled eggs and toast, fruit preserves, and porridge. She smiled a greeting at Violetta. "Good morning," she said, pushing a bowl of porridge toward Violetta's customary chair. When Violetta first began working with her, she always claimed that she'd eaten before arriving at her chambers. But Pippa had deduced the truth quickly-the cook was a pious arse who wouldn't so much as look in Violetta's direction, let alone give her anything to eat. So Pippa had decided that they would share at least one meal a day, depending on the circumstances, propriety and tradition be damned. Besides, Violetta never ate very much, anyway, despite Pippa's best efforts, so it would not kill the thrice-cursed cook to prepare the extra food.

Pippa frowned in thought as Violetta murmured a "Good morning, Your Grace," and sat down, taking small sips of her porridge. She's not as bony as she was when we first became acquainted, but she's much scrawnier than any Alumnallen. It must be because she eats like a bird; that, and her Meraliti blood.

"The calculations are all correct?" Pippa questioned, gesturing toward the scrolls. Violetta nodded.

"Lord Teignmott does good work, Your Grace," answered Violetta, referring to another one of Pippa's advisers and assistants.

Pippa nodded. "Mmm," was the only response she gave. "Why do you keep telling me that, Vi, when you and I both know that Randolph would have you stoned to death if he could? I know that you're being honest, but really, why must you be so damn nice about him all the time?"

Violetta shrugged slightly, embarrassed. "I-I did not mean to offend, Your Grace."

Pippa rolled her eyes. "For the love of the Western Wind, ViVi. Nothing you ever do offends me in any way, shape, or form. Do stop apologizing for everything. It's really quite vexing. And no, before you start-do not apologize for apologizing too much!"

Violetta couldn't help herself-she smiled at that, quickly covering her mouth with a gloved hand in order to stifle her sudden urge to giggle. Pippa looked on approvingly. Good. She's finally getting a sense of humor, it seems. It's about damn time.

The princess and Violetta finished their breakfast while discussing the scrolls that Violetta had looked over. Pippa groaned in frustration as Violetta mentioned the handiwork of a certain Lady Dremminick. "Why must you save Angelina's work for last every single time, Vi?" Pippa grumbled as she plucked the scroll from Violetta's fingers and glanced down at the numerous corrections done in Violetta's precise, tidy handwriting. "I swear, that woman couldn't tell you that two plus two equals four. But of course, my dear, foolish husband insists that his sister have a ministerial position, and I guess Lettie thought that she would do the least damage with me-how utterly wrong my sweet sister was," Pippa said with a derisive snort. "Well. You've fixed her atrocious math quite splendidly, my dear Violetta. And, what's this-she thought that The Bronze Wind was still abroad?" Pippa asked, incredulous. "Scarletta save me, what was that woman thinking? The Bronze Wind returned weeks ago."

Violetta let the princess ramble on. She talked enough for them both.

The rest of the morning passed rather routinely. At some point, a serving girl came in and cleared away the leftovers and cutlery, which went unnoticed by the princess. Pippa and Violetta were soon joined by the rest of Pippa's junior ministers, advisers, and assistants after they relocated to the meeting chamber. The rest of the people who served in Pippa's staff were quite a varied lot, in terms of family and personality and intelligence level. Pippa sighed heavily as Lady Angelina Dremminick swept into the chamber. One would think that a prerequisite for a position among my staff would be mathematical acumen, she thought. One would think so, but apparently that is not the case.

The topics of discussion mostly focused on the air-merchants returning to port and the castle's supplies, as well as the Itervian dignitaries that were due to arrive that very night. Pippa liked the Itervians-they were a tough, no-nonsense people-kind of like Pippa herself. Except their realm was cold, Scarletta save her, and so were the Itervians. They had no idea what the word "humor" meant. Queen Marleyna herself would be there, in fact, accompanied by her Cyrainese husband and her younger brother. Pippa understood that the other brother was the High Priest, so he would never set foot outside of Itervia in his life except for the case of a dire emergency.

Officially, the Itervians were coming to discuss Alumnallen-Itervian trade, but Pippa knew her older sister better than that. Queen Letitia had more important things that she wanted to consider, which was why the queen of Itervia herself had been invited. Pippa wasn't quite sure what it was, yet-Lettie had been keeping it a secret, even from her husband, which made it all the more worrying. Lettie had grown up with Philander. She trusted him with her life.

The Ministry of Records and Finances finished for the day at four past noon. The lords and ladies all retired to their chambers to prepare for the upcoming feast and arrival, while Violetta lingered in Princess Phillipa's chambers.

"Will you be attending the feast, Vivi? You should. It's only fair that you should," Pippa was saying as a servant girl brushed her unruly red hair.

Violetta shook her head and lowered her gaze. "It is not my place, Your Grace," she answered quietly. As a general rule, Violetta avoided all of the celebrations hosted in the castle. Most of them honored the four goddesses in some way, shape, or form, and what right did Violetta have to attend when her very existence was considered a disgrace to the goddesses?

The princess frowned but didn't press the point. "Well, off you go," she said. "Get some rest, then. The next few weeks will be very busy."

"Very good, Your Grace," Violetta murmured, bobbing a curtsy and returning to her small room.

As afternoon turned to twilight and twilight turned to dusk, Violetta could hear the sounds of revelry even from her quarters in one of the castle's many attics. She spent a couple of hours reading a book about Itervia before she decided to get some air. Violetta skirted the great hall and the main corridors, knowing that they were likely filled with serving men and girls rushing back and forth. Instead, she made her way outside of the castle walls, into the Corvellan Forest. There was a forest clearing that was only a one or two minute walk from the gates of the castle. Violetta reached the clearing and sat down beside the a gurgling stream, staring up at the stars and wondering if Mother Moon could see her from her vantage point high, high in the sky.

Steamtown: Blood and Gunpowder

Will try to have a post up sometime this week. It may have to be the weekend, though-not sure how much time i'll have

Rolling Thunder

@Hostile alright I finished my two characters-do you think that I should make an additional character and have it be a guy?

Rolling Thunder

aight i uploaded them

Rolling Thunder

@Hostile yeah I do somewhere lemme post em real quick

Rolling Thunder

Violetta

Name: Violetta (she does not have a last name); Princess Phillipa calls her Vi or ViVi

Age: 33

Gender: Female

Occupation: unofficial ministerial assistant to Princess Phillipa Forrester

Affiliation: Violetta is half-Alumnallen, half-Meralitian. She is currently working for the Alumnallen crown.

Appearance:

Violetta's face and body are covered in numerous scars; either burn scars or scars from some type of blade. Violetta is very tall due to her Meraliti ancestry. Her black hair and bony frame were inherited from her Meraliti mother, and her brown eyes and complexion were inherited from her Alumnallen father.

Personality: Violetta is timid, obedient, and meek, owing to a childhood of ostracism and poverty. She has a habit of flinching at sudden movements or loud noises. Violetta is extremely well-educated, having spent her teen and early adult years quite literally living in a library, and her mind works quickly and accurately. On the rare occasion that she is assertive, it usually has to do with some fact or figure that she has personally verified, though she tends to back down very quickly at any sort of challenge. Being viewed as less than human by most of the populace has made Violetta extremely wary of strangers and people in general.

Mini-Bio: Violetta's Meraliti mother raised her in secret in Miravvy, Meraly's one port city. Unfortunately, when Violetta was four years old, the oracle of Miravvy discovered Violetta's existence. The Meraliti cast Violetta and her mother out to sea on a flimsy raft, leaving them to die. They were eventually discovered by an Alumnallen ship headed back to Alumnall, and when the captain of the ship learned that Violetta was a half-blood, he tossed her mother overboard. One of the Alumnallen sailors was tasked with disposing of Violetta, but he instead took pity on the silent four year old and hid her away for the rest of the trip. When they returned to Alumnall, the sailor parted ways with Violetta (who vehemently swore that she would be fine on her own). Violetta then spent the next ten years of her life living on the streets of an Alumnallen port city, only coming out at night to scavenge for food. When Violetta was ten, a cook in the employ of a wealthy merchant caught Violetta sifting through their scraps, and she flung hot oil onto Violetta, leaving her badly scarred for the rest of her life.

Violetta experienced similarly harsh treatment whenever people caught sight of her. She desperately wanted to learn how to read and write-all the Alumnallens were doing it, anyway-so she would sneak around libraries simply to catch a glimpse of the books. Finally, when Violetta was fourteen, one of the librarians told her to "just come inside already, instead of sulking around like that", and Violetta was surprised to find that he was not at all inclined to hit her simply for existing. The librarian explained that Alumnallens were infamous for their "looser moral standards", and that there was a movement in Alumnall to be more accepting of half-bloods. Violetta stayed at the library for ten years. Since she didn't have an Alumnallen name, the librarian helped her pick out one for herself, and he taught her how to read, write, and some basic sums. Violetta lived in the basement of the library, which was off-limits to patrons. She spent her days organizing old records and archives, and she spent her nights gobbling up the books that the library had to offer. Violetta found comfort in the words and pages and numbers-they were calmly accepting of her. Books certainly didn't beat her for no reason.

Violetta's life changed again when the then-Princess Letitia Forrester visited the library with her younger sister, Princess Phillipa Forrester. Mischievous Princess Pippa wandered down into the library, where she discovered Violetta busily scribbling away. Intrigued, the princess looked over Violetta's shoulder to find that Violetta was busy deciphering a complicated math problem. Princess Pippa demanded that Violetta should work with her-indeed, Pippa had just been appointed to her Minister position-and soon enough, Violetta was working side-by-side with the royal family.

Even if Pippa was fully accepting of Violetta, the rest of the Forresters were decidedly less open. Pippa's brother was shocked, as well as Pippa's older sister, but Princess Phillipa Forrester was nothing if not a veritable ball of fire. However, even she was eventually forced to make concessions-Violetta slept in the servants' quarters, she was not given a title (as a full-blooded Alumnallen would have been given for the same position), and she was not paid in coin. Pippa was furious, but Violetta was just thankful to have a roof over her head and food to fill her belly.

Violetta would do anything for Pippa, at this point. Though she keeps her head down and mouth shut, Violetta has a mind as quick as Pippa's and very much enjoys her current occupation.

Phillipa Forrester

Name: Phillipa "Pippa" Forrester, princess of Alumnall and Minister of Records and Finances

Age: 27

Gender: Female

Occupation: As the Minister of Records and Finances for the realm of Alumnall, Pippa is in charge of overseeing the collection of taxes, recording any pertinent figures and sums, record-keeping, and a host of other administrative tasks

Affiliation: Alumnall

Appearance:

Like most Alumnallens, Pippa is rather short. However, unlike most Alumnallen women, Pippa has not a single curve to speak of.

Personality: Pippa values punctuality and is a stickler for details. She has a sharp tongue and quite a temper, and she is extremely, extremely logical. Pippa is good at memorizing oddly specific bits of information and she frequently rattles off a long list of things to be done. She is practical, pragmatic, and efficient, and doesn't take any shit from anyone.

Mini-Bio: Princess Phillipa Forrester has always been unbelievably bossy. The king and queen of Alumnall had no idea what to do with their youngest daughter when she got into one of her moods-when Pippa was undeniably correct, and her logic and reasoning made sense, yet she was behaving in the most atrocious manner.

When her tutors and instructors discovered that Pippa had an uncanny knack for remembering everything, they began grooming her to assume the position of Minister of Records and Finances. Through most of Almerinte, members of the royal family are given important governmental positions, and if they seem to be particularly well-suited for one at an early age, then all their studies shift to that one particular subject. This was exactly what happened with Pippa.

Neat, meticulous Pippa always seems to know every fact, every figure, every sum. With her dear ViVi's help, Pippa has taken over her ministerial position by the storm. Pippa simply adores Violetta-her wondrously accurate mental math, her attention to small details, the way that she always seems to have the book or parchment that Pippa needs on hand. Pippa frankly has no idea what she'd do without Violetta.

Why We Fight? (WWII with superpowers)

@Bright_Ops awww thank you so much <3

@ONL awesomeeeeee if you are indeed accepted (which I think you will be lol) I shall PM you w/ some basic character q's! (it's super simple i promise, lol-I ask dumb stuff like their fave food)

Rolling Thunder

Summary of Almerinte (for quick reference during RP):

Meraly

Politics: Strict isolationism, utopian socialism-type communities/tribes, current rulers are Queen Voryna and King Vollyros, of the ancient Liyyr clan

Economy: Based on communal cooperation and bargaining within Meraly (no real monetary system), mostly isolated from world trade (has one port city named Vavvya, this is the only place that foreigners are allowed)

Religion/Appearance: Ver'lya is their goddess. The Meraliti value wisdom and patience and reliability. They are a very peaceful people who are content with what they have and believe strongly in the natural order of the universe. Meralitians tend to be tall and lithe, with dark skin, black hair, and golden eyes. The Meraliti have built a magnificent stone temple in Ver'lya's honor. The goddess herself does no more than ensure that the sun shines, the rain falls, the crops grow, and that all is as it should be. Quiet meditation and contemplation is considered very important. Ver'lya chooses to be mentally connected with everyone in realm, and she has been known to send her people visions of what is to come.

Social: The Meraliti live in tribes throughout most of their islands. They are ruled jointly by the chief, the medicine man/woman, and the oracle. Their lifestyle is a simple one, devoted to growing/gathering food and worshiping their goddess.

Intellectual/Cultural/Technology: The Meraliti are content to follow the wisdom of the high priests and priestesses. Their technology is very primitive. Typical cuisine consists of local vegetation, depending on the region. Fish is also popular. Meraliti music is very rhythmic and features lots of drumming, and the Meraliti are famous for their gowns and robes of sheer silk, though most people don light cotton or linen tunics for everyday wear. Some regions are known for their incorporation of vibrant feathers or colorful seashells into their headdresses.

Location/Geography/Places of Note: Meraly is an island located at the western end of the Known World, across the Shimmering Sea from mainland Almerinte. Its capital is Miravy. The climate/terrain varies widely, but it's hot no matter where you are. The Sum'ell Mountains cut through the middle of the island (Ver'lya lives in deep jungles of the mountains). The port city of Vavvya sits on the eastern coast.

Itervia

Politics: (centralized) feudal monarchy-one ruler in capital of Illyri, landholding nobles scattered throughout realm, expansionist and a bit militaristic, currently ruled by Queen Marleyna and King Alran Farwynd

Economy: primarily based on mining, ship-building, and furs and exporting these goods to Cyraine and Alumnall, any agriculture/fishing is usually kept within Itervia, trade thrives on southern coast but peters off as one goes north

Religion/Appearance: their goddess, Ophelia, is cold and severe. The Itervians respect her power tremendously and regard her with a mixture of profound reverence and fear. Ophelia normally only communicates to the people through her priests and priestesses, but if she is displeased, the entire realm will feel her wrath. Itervians are pale with blue eyes and brown hair. The worship of Ophelia involves many complex rituals. Ophelia primarily uses her power to affect the weather of the realm.

Social: Great emphasis on honor and chivalry and obeying one's "social superiors", respect and integrity, etc. Itervia is big but sparsely populated, ruled by lords and ladies and kings and queens and the like, uphold rigid standards of propriety and value rationality and logic and staying calm no matter what

Intellectual/Cultural/Technology: Itervians do not tend to be creative geniuses. Their military is formidable, blessed with Ophelia's iron strength, and they are primarily an expansionist power. Technology is not advanced, but it isn't backwards, either. Many of their weapons incorporate magic somehow. They wear furs and wool and medieval clothing in general (think Game of Thrones), and eat fish and caribou and wild berries and any vegetables that they can manage to grow in the poor, rocky soil.

Location/Geography/Places of Note: marble temple for Ophelia is located at the foot of the Inner Wytesias, and Ophelia resides somewhere past the mountains in an icy tundra. Outer Wytesias are mostly used for mining. Itervia is heavily forested and has a rocky terrain, capital city of Illyri on southern coast

Cyraine

Politics: monarchy but w/ hella court intrigue and political maneuvering, tends to be rather corrupt, very involved in trade and exports lots of foodstuffs, usually neutral in overseas disputes, currently ruled by Queen Gracelynn and King Aren Allyrion

Economy: agriculture and textiles are the main industries, very much a trade-based economy, merchants are politically powerful

Religion/Appearance: goddess is Lativia, who is the embodiment of a fair, innocent maiden in her flighty, kind-hearted, and rather naive ways. She is pretty much completely isolated from Cyrainese politics and concerns herself with making flowers and crops grow, priests are corrupt and bought and paid for by the rich, meaning that they push for their masters' causes when they communicate with Lativia. The Cyrainese have peachy complexions, blonde hair, and green eyes

Social: typical medieval society structure, w/ villages and towns and cities, ruled by landed aristocracy and monarchs. Cyrainese come across as gentle and carefree, but some of the nobles can be quite cunning. Common people value honest, hard work, while nobles are concerned w/ monetary gain

Intellectual/Cultural/Technology: technology is not the greatest (about Itervian-level), military focuses on naval power, the Cyrainese favor colors and flowers and whatnot. Cuisine in Cyraine features many fruits and vegetables that grow in temperate climates. Breads and cheeses are also popular. The rich wear colorful, hand-sewn gowns decorated with delicate lace and expensive jewels, while the common people favor loose, flowing clothing in more muted hues

Location/Geography/Places of Note: Celine Rivers (the Upper and the Lower Celine) flow to Shimmering Sea, capital of Mirielle is located where they intersect, Cyraine has lots of grassland and fields of wildflowers and rolling hills and forests and meadows, Lativia lives in a meadow beyond the nigh on impenetrable Cyrainese forest in the northwest, tower-temples used to worship goddess

Alumnall

Politics: parliamentary monarchy w/ a rather large bureaucracy (lots of ministers to oversee governance), very active overseas, the current rulers of Alumnall are Queen Letitia and King Philander Forrester.

Economy: primarily trade-based, not much agriculture due to mountainous terrain and windy climate, export lots of manufactured goods and items created by artisans

Religion/Appearance: Scarletta is fickle and mischievous and adventurous and so very human, which is what Alumnallens love about her. They value curiosity and creativity and they are known for having short tempers and acerbic tongues. Scarletta is a trickster and frequently involves herself in Alumnallen affairs by changing her appearance. She imbues her people with creative, intellectual energy and doesn't do much in terms of weather besides the wind. Alumnallens are lightly tanned, usually freckled, with brown eyes and red hair

Social: Alumnall is a densely populated realm, despite the mountains. A village in Alumnall is considered a city in Meraly. Alumnallens tend to have looser morals and they value intelligence, freedom of expression, and witty comebacks

Intellectual/Cultural/Technology: Alumnall is the most advanced technology-wise in Almerinte. They have created gear- and wind- powered contraptions with the help of ancient magic (think high fantasy steampunk). Alumnallen fashion is quite unconventional compared to the other realms, and they eat a wide variety of food due to their position in world trade.

Location/Geography/Places of Note: capital city of Corvell is nestled in a valley, while port cities dot the coast of the Shimmering Sea. In general, very mountainous terrain (which spurred on the invention of wind-powered airships), very windy and brisk climate, trees perpetually have red leaves

Updates to Lore:

*Alumnallen technology and society-think high fantasy steampunk

pics

*When two people who are not of royal blood and are from different realms have children, they are known as half-bloods. Half-bloods frequently share characteristics from both parents, both in their appearance and personality. Half-bloods are ostracized and cast out by the people of all four realms. They are viewed as a disgrace to the goddesses and people believe their very existence is a grave insult to the aforementioned goddesses. Due to their mixed blood, half-bloods are not connected to any one goddess and therefore receive no protection/insight from them. Half-bloods are frequently beaten to death in highly public spectacles if they are discovered

*When two people of royal blood from different realms have children, the children take after their mother (Almerintian society is matrilineal)

*Marleyna Farwynd and her Cyrainese husband, Alran Farwynd (formerly Alran Allyrion), have ascended the Itervian throne

Why We Fight? (WWII with superpowers)

i got bored lol


will make for other chars if u want me to