[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/WchI1oH.jpg[/img][img]http://i.imgur.com/Or9eRba.jpg[/img][/center][center][h3][i]ℒ[/i] [color=7e6e75]ᴀ ᴅ ʏ[/color] [i]ℐ[/i] [color=7e6e75]ᴍ ᴇ ʟ ᴅ ᴀ[/color][color=333333]. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .[/color][sup][center][color=333333]. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .[/color][color=000000][i][b]ᴏ ғ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ K ɴ ᴜ ᴇ ᴠ ᴇ ɴ[/b][/i][/color][/center][/sup][/h3][sup][sup][sup][sup][img]https://drfhlmcehrc34.cloudfront.net/cache/7a/2e/7a2eca87d796d9fd03a702d75817da61.png[/img][/sup][/sup][/sup][/sup][/center][center][sup][color=524948]"The face of she whose touch he yearned; Until whose kisses he had earned."[/color][/sup][/center][hr][hr][center][sub][sub][sub][sub][sub][img]http://i.imgur.com/NESiC7M.png[/img][/sub][/sub][/sub][/sub][/sub] [sup]I M E [i]L[/i] D A C [i]L[/i] O U S E A U - V E R H A V E R T[/sup] Twenty-six.[color=7e6e75]♦[/color] Female. [color=7e6e75]♦[/color] Knueven Vallore.[/center] [sub][ ♔ ] A P P E A R A N C E[/sub][hr][indent][color=7e6e75]Sensuous debuts and appellations are befitting to Imelda's impression, validated with nontraditional degrees of beauty that sire dark hair, skin and eyes, fairness in mute shades that lightens her complexion to an olive hue that feathers in swarthy tones. Such is the signification of the compounding lines of Couseau and Verhavert, the sire and dame of her blood unified by marriage and wealth and genetic prosperity; infamy is highly recorded in their union, a previous scandal that bred estrangement within their valour, but has effected little else. With hair the colour of molten soils, reminiscent of rich sweets and near like sleekness and her eyes just as dark and shadowed, but bedecked with emerald and peridot slivers that interchange through shadow and sunlight. The only blemish, as it were, to the conception of perfection that seats upon her breast and soul. [/color][/indent] [sub][ ♔ ] B A C K G R O U N D[/sub][hr][indent][color=7e6e75]The lands of Couseau and Verhavert lie into the East, each inspire a crest of climbing foxes and descending ravens, plunging down low, the emblazoned heraldry of scavengers, tricksters, of the misunderstood fauna that amass the Eastern territories. The deeds sought by each of the families has long cleansed the misconstrued conception of ill-favoured pests, bringing rituals of valour, honour and swift royalty. The endeavors of each have been christened harsh, sometimes volatile, and ever conflicted with ambition with their continuous climbs to the upper echelons of court favour. The lords and ladies of these lands have been emblazoned with steelish fortitude behind their stone walls and thickets of Eastern forests, the rumours circulating, the defaming tales in-sighting to the perfection and rigidity that sires and breeds knights of every splendor. Once, they were enemies, foxes and ravens pillaging one another, battles were carried in swift executions and silent malice, each favoured seedier methods, manipulation, poisons that were planted on tongue and touch rather than shield and blade. Whilst the neighboring lands warred or prospered, the Eastern territories continued to pit and plunge their hatred, old family blood boiled and even when their fathers vanquished and were entombed, the generations continued to rage and cry. It was, thus, by the union of a scandalous affair that saw to the combining riches and power, shaming their valour and elderkin, but fostering a future that would see the Couseau and Verhavert with righteous fame and duty. These histories led into the unification of many Lords and Ladies, the surrounding duchy prospering under the commingling bloodlines that brought with it mild peace, for shadows still bred far and wide into the houses, hidden behind each crest. When the fox and raven came together in the sigil of a winged creature bedecked in thorns, flora of the Eastern soils, and rightfully crowned, the first generations since the union came to with celebration. Old stories still linger within the halls of both Couseau and Verhavert, sometimes romanticized and embellished for the various squires sanctioned there, and many younger knights that pain and struggle under the tutelage of their masters. Imelda was one among many who aspired to the histories, the olden traditions in battle conduct, the secret murmurs of their forgiven hatred to one another, and the immediate affections of her own parents despite their infliction. And whilst she admired these tales, she also learned to hate them, for the birth rite and burden of such was eternally taxing, it brought with it long nights and even longer days, it brought with it expectations and predetermined fate and rule that was decided since her conception. The second child lost in the shadows of the former - who later become a Knight of The Round Table - and instructed to inspire the rest after her, Imelda could only cling to a smidgen of hope that she would prove well enough. Her time would come during the Saxon invasion, paired with her bow and kin, the Couseau and Verhavert militia spread aloft into the warring lands, meeting the opposition and unified under the banner of the King. Imelda was hereby sworn into a particular contingent of knights, these that favoured stealth and found their niche in archery rather than swords, the Knueven Vallore, where she seemed to prosper, well even after their dispersion under the instructions of their Lords. For the living concept of a potential threat, even with the invasion thwarted and passed, could not be tolerated; they had to be careful, to not sire suspicion of treason and ill intent to the King. With her eldest kin a Knight under Arthur's reign, the burden of impression, power and tale came to increase, the dregs of such laden onto Imelda wherein she was transported to court as an envoy to the differentiating strengths to the Eastern territories, and to curry favour among the intrigue of political guise.[/color][/indent] [sub][ ♔ ] T R A I T S O F A V A L O N[/sub][hr][indent][indent][color=7e6e75][sub][color=000000]∞-The Fox’s Feet.[/color] You possess the ability to move silently, deftly, and with confidence. Your skill for stealth is far above that of an average knight, and your balance is masterful. [color=000000]∞-The Falcon’s Talon.[/color] You are a master of the bow. The accuracy of your arrows is deadly and true, whether they be loosed from on foot, or from horseback. [/sub][/color][/indent][/indent]