Ladies and germs, I present to you... Artemisia de Fiore!

[hider=Artemisia de Fiore]
[color=7bcdc8][b]Name[/b][/color]: Artemisia de Fiore
[color=7bcdc8][b]Age[/b][/color]: 27

[color=fdc68a][b]Gender[/b][/color]: Female
[color=a2d39c][b]Birthplace[/b][/color]: Florence, Italy
[color=7ea7d8][b]Religious Affiliation[/b][/color]: Pagan
[color=7ea7d8][b]Secular Affiliation[/b][/color]: Former Member of the [i]Le Troupe de Vie[/i]
[color=f9ad81][b]Level of Education[/b][/color]: Can Read and Write
[color=fdc68a][b]Social Status[/b][/color]: Lower Class
[color=fdc68a][b]Occupation[/b][/color]: Professional Entertainer

[color=a187be][b]Appearance[/b][/color]: 
[img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/06/7c/94/067c94206a5a72b71fbc46f392a50a21.jpg[/img]

	Standing at 5’6, Artemisia isn’t someone easily noticed by passerbys. Since she is a poor citizen, Artemisia lives in the squalid areas of Sintra. When she has the coin to spare, she buys what fabric scraps she can from the tailor in Sintra at a discounted price, as no one wants scraps; with the fabric she does possess, Artemisia creates eye-catching, patch-work skirts to wear. She sports a white blouse, that keeps her shoulders bare. Most would accuse her of being a Romani upon first meeting her, for the way she dances, sings, earns a living and so forth, though she is far from that. An interesting aspect of Artemisia are the bright silvery eyes that sit beneath a pair of thick eyebrows, her forehead is smooth, and without blemishes. Her complexion is dark, a heavily honeyed tan from years over the course of intense labour from the vineyards, under the bright Florentine sun. For enduring hard-times over the years, Artemisia is scrawny, though lean, with long, slender extremities to match, from her arms and legs, to her hands and feet, useful in her career as a professional entertainer. She has a plump heart shaped mouth, and when she frowns it gives people the impression that she is extremely unhappy. She has a hooked nose with a garnet stud, pierced in her right nostril. Last but not least, she sports a crown of black, wavy tresses that hang down to the middle of her back. Depending on the circumstance, and the time of day, Artemisia keeps her hair in a single plait, or hanging free.

[color=a2d39c][b]Personality[/b][/color]: 

	When first meeting Artemisia, most people will note that she is blunt, and strikingly honest. She does not hold back on her answers when someone asks an opinion on a subject, so be warned, she may cause offense to those with more sensitive dispositions. While she is harmlessly straightforward, she is also blessed with a deep reserve of patience, granting her to keep her cool, even when under extreme pressure would ordinary people lose theirs. Along with her patience, she is reserved, giving her the chance to observe those around her, and the situation presented to her with careful scrutiny. It is hard to fool her, as her observant nature keeps her in a resourceful state of mind, where her self-reliant skills come into play more often than she would like to use them. Another factor with her observant mind, is the tragic curious nature she possesses; which can often lead her into trouble. On top of her curiosity, Artemisia is naturally adventurous, allowing her to think fast on her feet, and take risks most people wouldn’t dare think of. 

	When engaging in conversation with her, most people notice the expanse of her vocabulary, while she is considered lower class, thanks to her mother Giulia, Artemisia knows how to read and write, she is passionate about reading, and when she can afford to, she invests in purchasing what novels she can. Those who are lucky enough to call her a friend, know that she is incredibly loyal, and rightfully so, as she has few people she would call a friend. The reason for this, is while she is open-minded, she has an up-beat personality; Artemisia always sees the light even in the darkest of times.

[color=7ea7d8][b]Skillset[/b][/color]:
Sewing/Tailoring – {Artemisia is a highly skilled seamstress. She can create her own clothes, and if it called for it, she could even stitch up a wound were there ever a need.}

Herbology/Potion Making – {With her mother’s antiquated teachings of the land, Artemisia knows which plants are poisonous, which can be used for health benefits, and she knows how to mix potions, poisons, health tonics, health salves, along with many others.} 

Tarot Readings/Scrying/Geomancy – {Another skill her mother taught to Artemisia when she was just a child. While many people nowadays believe that reading the cards is just for fun, to Artemisia, it is a way to check the balances of the universe with a decision she wishes to make. On top of reading cards, she can scry, where she falls into a trance while staring at a placid, reflective surface, such as a pond, bowl of water, or even a mirror. Much like reading the cards, during this trance-like state of mind, Artemisia receives glimpses of the future, while they may not portray events that are in the near-future, she has been wrong only a few times when it came to interpreting these visions. Another aspect that she uses is, geomancy. This where she will study the terra for insight to her answers, especially when it concerns a larger aspect than herself. She performs this by tossing handfuls of soil, rocks or sand, and studying how they fall, looking for patterns or markings. While she does not use geomancy as much her other forms of fortune-telling, Artemisia still possesses the skill should it be needed.}

Bird Calls – {When living in Italy, on the grape farm, her brothers taught her how to identify the calls of a bird, and how to respond to the call. While she does whistle bird calls, the purpose for this skill nowadays is for stealth reasons.}

Hand-to-Hand Combat – {While she does not wish to admit, Artemisia has had many encounters on the streets of Sintra after hours when she is returning to the tavern room she rents, assailed by many a drunk man, she has learned how to fend for herself in close range combat, especially if her assailant is unarmed, as she often is. As she is resourceful in nature, Artemisia will use anything in arm’s reach as a weapon.}
Entertaining – {This includes dancing, and singing. Ever since moving to Sintra, and after running away from Don Gonzalves, she has an uncanny singing voice, and during her time spent with the French troubadours, [i]Le Troupe de Vie[/i], she knows many forms of dances, and makes for an adequate dancing partner.}

Musical Skills – {Not only is Artemisia skilled in dancing and singing, but she is skilled in the ways of music. Also taught to her by [i]Le Troupe de Vie[/i], she knows how to play the lyre, lute, and Spanish guitar, and aide in increasing the profits she earns on the streets.}

[b][color=f9ad81]Languages[/color][/b]: Italian (Native tongue), Portuguese (Fluent), Spanish (Fluent), English (OK), and French (Poor).

[color=f9ad81][b]Biography[/b][/color]: 

	Born to a widowed mother of five other children, making her the sixth born, Artemisia de Fiore spent her early days of childhood working as a field hand alongside her mother, Giulia. Giulia and her sixth children worked as a field hand for a wealthy lord in his vineyards plucking grapes from the vines to harvest for wine. Eventually, when her children grew out of their early youthful stages of life, the lord of the manor extended the invitation to her children to work for him alongside their mother.  Living on the edge of his property with an acre of land as means to feed her family, the excess was to be given to him at the end of the harvest season. For many summers, Giulia raised her six children as best she could, Artemisia, Apollo, Vincenzo, Anabela, Francesco and Giada. Her mother believed in an ancient religion, one that pre-dated Christianity or even Catholicism. With each child gather before her, Giulia recited tales of gods and goddesses older than the angels, and how each essence of nature held a soul, from the trees, to the earth under their feet. One day, Artemisia asked her mother as she lain in her bed, eyes heavy with sleep, how she knew of the tales. In a quiet voice, Giulia brushed away the strands of black hair that clung to her daughter’s brow, and told her the tale, of how her mother’s mother, came from a faraway land, called Germany, Giulia’s grandmother taught her mother, and her mother taught her, the secret teachings about the land, about peace, and how to live in harmony with oneself and with others. She taught her how to see the beauty in all things, from trees and leaves, to a field of grain under a summer’s sky, and this, Giulia continued the tradition by passing down this ancient tradition to her own children

	From an early age, Giulia taught all of her children how to nourish oneself off the land, but it was Artemisia who expressed great interest in learning the benefits of each plant, her mother often teased her for the fact that she had a problem of plucking anything off the ground and eating it. She learned in particular what plants were good to eat, and what plants could poison. Out of all her children, Giulia doted upon Artemisia the most, and perhaps it was the simple fact that she was the youngest of her kin. Her brother, Apollo, named after the Roman god of sunlight, poetry, music and prophecy, kept a close eye on the little Artemisia while their mother travelled to market day. Anabela, Giada were the oldest in the tight knit family, with Vincenzo and Francesco being the middle children. Anabela and Giada were well into their early teens when a sudden tragedy befell the family. Convicted for worship of false idols; a local guard caught their mother in the midst carving a runic symbol into a neighbor’s pumpkin, with no time to explain the meaning of the sigil, as one denoted for protection, the guard transported her to Florence, sentenced to death by fire. Knowing what would happen to her children, the lord of the manor Salvatore Lombardi, sent her children to Portugal, where a powerful relative of his resided. Whisking them away under the cover of darkness, Lombardi paid for their safe passage to Portugal. However, the night the ship left the bay, four of six children would not survive the passage. Her brothers, all but one, passed from illness acquired through the journey, and the same with her sisters. All perished of dysentery, except for Artemisia and Apollo.

	Entrusted to care for the children, Doña Rosana Maria Gonzalves, cousin to Salvatore Lombardi, resided in a grand manor in the country side of Sintra. Married to a Don Sebastian de Gonzalves, Rosana and her husband, were unable to procure their own children, and readily accepted the children. When the ship docked in Portugal, both Rosana and Sebastian awaited their newly adopted children. Sick from months without walking on land and a lack of a proper diet, the two de Fiore siblings were in a poor state, with skin pallid and bony limbs, they looked nothing more than street urchins. Presenting a letter with the seal of her cousin, Lombardi, Rosana could not doubt that these were the children he had promised her, although she was horrified to hear the news that their four other siblings had passed on the voyage. Life at the manor in the country side reminded Apollo and Artemisia both of life at the vineyard, with the exception they were no longer field hands. Rosana hired a governess, an excellent teacher that taught Artemisia and Apollo how to read and write, for Artemisia she invested in singing and dancing lessons, and spent many hours by firelight how to sew and embroider. While Sebastian kept busy with his military problems, especially with the uprising of the Portuguese people, and their demand for independence, he took a particular interest in Apollo, he hired the boy a fencing instructor, and purchased him his first rapier at the age of fourteen. Two years later, Apollo de Fiore enlisted in the Royal Spanish Army under the sponsorship of Don Gonzalves. Artemisia never saw her brother again after that, and grew to be rebellious in nature. When Artemisia entered womanhood at 16, the attempt to find her a suitor began, a miserable endeavor for both Rosana and Artemisia. After many possible suitors’ left the prestige household of the de Gonzalves, disappointed, Rosana flew into a blinded rage, angry that the stubborn teenager would not heed her good intentions. Artemisia argued vehemently that she wanted a proper education, not to be married off like cattle. When Sebastian learned of their adopted daughter’s fits, he grew convinced that she was possessed with the spirit of the devil himself. Instead of bringing a priest in to exorcise the rambunctious girl, he turned to his fists, in hopes that beating it out of her would work better than drawing unwanted attention from the locals. Yet, when the morning sun rose the following day, Artemisia was nowhere to be found.

	She ran away, fervent in her beliefs that the de Gonzalves did not love, nor care for her by any means. Artemisia reached the town of Sintra, the same town where Apollo and her had docked when they first stepped foot in Portugal. She found an intriguing group of French travelling troubadours, Le Troupe de Vie, that played weekly in the local theater, a wooden edifice erected like a coliseum of old. Here she expanded upon her singing and dancing, and learned how to capture the audience’s attention. An expert in the form of distraction under the careful guidance of Girard, a scrawny man with wispy black hair, dressed in eccentric clothes. Girard taught Artemisia the skills of entertainment, and while she kept them busy, he picked their pockets when they weren’t looking. Many people, from all walks of life attended the theatre, eager for any distraction in their tedious lives, for Girard, he could easily discern who carried the most gold just from the jingle in their step. In her spare time, Artemisia learned how to make blow-darts from a slave from Brazil named Glaucio, who belonged to the theatre’s proprietor. And from another troubadour, Silana, a woman that looked over her much like her own mother, she gained the essential skills on how to play the lute, and the Spanish guitar. Tragedy struck the theatre during a lightning storm one summer’s eve, resulting in the edifice burning to the ground, leaving nothing behind but a blackened skeleton. Le Troupe de Vie extended an invitation to Artemisia, as they would start travelling once more, yet she politely declined their offer with much grief at the loss of her friends. She wanted to stay in Sintra in case she ever caught wind of Apollo’s whereabouts. She supported herself entirely for a year on entertaining in the streets; she danced with fire, twirling circular hoops and rings smeared with lard and tallow, sang ancient songs of old in her native tongue, took up the breathtaking sword swallowing act, and captivated passersby with her imposing dagger throwing skills, able to pin an apple to the wall out of a volunteer’s hand in one throw. She made a lucky break when a group of ecceltic nobles hired her as part of an act for many a lucrative party. She maintained her livelihood through her entertainment, and acquired enough coin to purchase a humble mud shack on an acre of land. 

	Now in the year 1666, with recent laws attempting to control begging and street entertaining, Artemisia landed a night job as a barmaid in a local tavern called La Agua de Vida. During the daytime hours, she sells trinkets and other wares out of a horse stall in the market, she offers tarot readings for those curious to know the future. When the dragon attack devastated the town of Sintra, while many clamored inside the monastery proclaiming the end of days, she could only think that the roars outside the walls, were anything but the apocalypse unfolding. Nay, ‘twas anything but, it reminded her solely of the tales her mother told her of dragons, wyrms, and wyverns. When the doors to the monastery were cast open, and the wreckage revealed, the stench of burnt flesh and charred wood filled her sensoria. Chaos and devastation littered the seaside town, and when she traveled to the countryside, just a mere half-mile outside of the town, she discovered that even her shack had burnt to the ground. Angered, and with nowhere else to go, Artemisia ventured to the castle plaza where she believed she would find answers. While the public officials declared that it was not a dragon, rather the act of god, a ship sailing to Morocco, sought for able hands to join the mission. Artemisia decided to leave again, after all the years living in Sintra, she had never heard from her brother, and presumed him dead. What better way to at least earn a living, than by the coin of the crown?

	The first night on the waters from Sintra to Morocco was a lively night that soon turned sour. Artemisia had taken it upon herself to chase away the sadness felt by many of the Sintra refugees that chose to tag along on the voyage, with an uplifting sea shanty. While she didn't sing for long, it set the atmosphere to a merry tune, as the other sailors joined in with their own familiar songs; some folks found the courage to dance, while many others buried their faces in bottles of ale and wine, and gorged themselves heartily upon the food served for dinner that evening. By the time those too drunk to walk had been taken below deck to the sleeping quarters, a massive opening beneath the ship where straw, and hammocks were erected between wooden posts, the moon hung high above the waters. Artemisia claimed a hammock for herself, eager to fall into the clutches of sleep. The events of the dragon attack had left her thoroughly exhausted, perhaps from the adrenaline and the fear that had kept her awake with vigilant prayers in the Convent of Cork.

	When sleep had all but graced her weary mind, the Burning Bitch shook with great force, that her first thought was that the ship had struck something. The fact remained, they were far out too sea for them to have run aground, or struck a reef. With what sounded like an explosion above deck, the cries of the children whose parents did bring them aboard, sent her springing out of her hammock. For what seemed like eternity, sounds of what sounded like warfare rang out above her, she sat gathered with the women and children, helping soothe the younger children with humming. As the sound of battle faded away above deck, one of the sailors ventured below deck to check the damage of the ship, as well as to determine if anyone else had sustained any injuries. A frenzy of concerned patron's descended upon the man, demanding answers. The man, even though he sported a dark complexion, appeared ashen-white, and could only stutter for a response.

"It was anything unlike I have ever witnessed before... The man... wore armor as black as night. W-when they killed him, he burst into a ball of light. There is heavy damage to the deck, and if anyone can lend a helping hand, please, we need your help." 

	She volunteered in helping repair the damage to the upper deck, and when her leather boots touched the wooden boards, Artemisia could only stare in wonder at the damage. The navigation room, destroyed. A large gaping hole in the midst of the ship was covered in broken planks. Lending her help, the sailors directed her to gather up what boards she could, they would lay them over the hole, and nail it back together.

	Over the next few days, Artemisia noticed a curious woman on board, one that she had not noticed until after the attack on the Burning Bitch. This woman, dressed in black, her voice hinted to Spanish descent, even though her skin yielded a paler complexion than most Spaniards she knew; this woman lingered close to the captain, Emilio, apparently serving some importance to him. By the time the Burning Bitch drew in sight to Mogador, Artemisia looked on in astonishment. The edifices were a mixture of mud bricks, and white stone, set like a beacon in a desolate land beyond, there were looming palm trees, occasionally splashes of green set amongst a vast expanse of sand. Word had gone up on board the ship that the captain was looking for any able-bodied people, willing to embark on a quest with him. Artemisia was one of the first to volunteer when she caught word of mouth, what better way to learn new songs, and tell new tales. The adventurous spirit in her blood kindled like a wildfire now, eager to set out on their journey.
[color=f9ad81][b]Notes[/b][/color]: 
[list]
[*] Artemisia carries three silver daggers for self-defense.
[*] Has a carved wooden reed that she uses for blow darts, does not have any blow darts at this point.
[*] On her back, Artemisia has a sun tattoo, in the center is the triskelion, a symbol that depicts the continuation of the circle of life. A member in Le Troupe de Vie gave her the tattoo, when she became a full member of the troupe, a year before the theatre burned to the ground.
[*] Has an affinity for herbal tea.
[*] Highly superstitious.
[/list]
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