Alright, warning: I am a very busy person so I will try to post regularly but apologies in advance if I drop off the face of the earth for a bit. I trust y'all to portray Cassius correcrtly. Now that's out of the way, let's get into it.

Name: Cassius "Cas" pur Kays

Pronouns: they/them

Age: 26

Appearance: They are rather unkept. Their brown hair is long and messy and constantly falls in their eyes so they've begun to tie it back. They have light skin and hazel eyes. Their clothing is very average, a peasant top with trousers and a long brown coat. They keeps their family seal in their bag along with many other things. They is suprisingly short for their repuation and very annoyed with that fact.  

Personality: They are rather vain. Always a bit of a wildcard. Always wants to know everything about anything and it's gotten them into trouble many times. They loves a good conversation and enjoys being around people. Tends to take matters into their own hands often. They are very good at reading other people but cannot lie to save their life. ISTP

Strengths/weaknesses: They cannot lie at all, like they are so bad at it. They has a very wide arsenal of facts and information both completly useless and more important than he will ever know. 

Home: currently he is on the run but tells everyone he is traveling to "gain a new perspective" 

Which Nobyl family is he/she from? You can invent your own branch of the Nobyls: Kays but they were kind of disowned. They use the name when necessary but they does not like to. 

Background: Their family's stance on the war and their own personal stance disagreed. They did not support Catastrophe but as their parents got closer to the "Inner circle" of his army Cassius rebelled more and more. They are known among the nobyls as the rebellious devil child but there is a conflicting opinion among the nobyls because of their views on the issue. After a particularly loud and public argument with their parents they got publicly disowned and humiliated so they set out traveling on their own. It has been about 5 years and they have not had any contact with their family and they have tried to avoid the nobyls. 

~Cas~ 

I stumble through the woods falling into trees. I can't hear anyone behind me but that's no assurance. I accidentally may have gotten some very powerful people mad at me. But what use would it be to them to chase me into the woods? It's too cold tonight. Maybe they hope i'll die. I might. 

Something pierces my back. I can't see it but I feel blood dripping down and now I know I am not alone here. This is those stupid hunters from whatever that stupid town's name is. 

It's getting cold, much too cold for me to make it alone tonight. After whoever fired the stupid thing that is sticking out of my back hasn't done anything about it so I guess I'm finally alone.

I can't tell if the hypothermia or blood loss is making me more dizzy but through this hazy state I see smoke and something like a house. And there are.. horses? People! Horses mean people. I think. Hopefully they are nice and know something about medicine. 

I trudge my way towards the house and try to polietly knock on the door but my legs give out so I just kind of fall against it with a loud thump. I do hope I'm not bleeing on the door. That would be such a shame. I hear footsteps and I desperatly try to right myself but alas, the door opens and I can only get an "Apoligies" out before I fall face first onto the floor. 

I can hear voices but it's all muffled. Claaws, how much blood have I lost? It couldn't have been that much. 

Then I feel it all fade to black. 

~~~

fun little intro and a problem to get the ball rolling! yay! (also I am not new to this wonderful corner of the internet I am just under a new name) :)

=Kalam=

Kalam pulled his fur-edged cloak closer about him. It was a bitterly cold night, though in Tarava's lighted bedroom it hadn't seemed like it. Probably he wouldn't get much futher than this tonight. Already he had left Evranel behind him and was in the northern forests of Kyngdom.

A largish hut loomed out of the snow ahead of him. He would seek shelter there; no one would refuse it to him, as he appeared to be a simple traveler, and no one would mistake him for a Nobyl. In fact, fairly well-off, normal travelers were welcomed at places such as these, as they paid well for their lodging.

He rode nearer and, dismounting, knocked at the door. There was a moment of silence; then the door opened slightly, and an old woman looked out. "What are you wanting here?" she quavered.

"Only a bed and shelter from this snow, ma'am," Kalam replied, smiling engagingly. "I'm a simple traveler passing through these woods. I lost my way, and now, I fear, I'll never make it to the place where I was supposed to stay tonight. I was wondering if you mightn't have some corner...?"

"Nay," the old woman said - and Kalam, who was a keen reader of people, saw something like fear dart for an instant through her eyes. "I have a guest already, and I have little enough food as it is." She hesitated, then went on, in a more conciliatory tone of voice, "I'm sorry to turn you away, but I don't see how it could be done."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream - " Kalam moved forward a step. "I brought my own food, ma'am. And I have nowhere else to sleep, unless you count these woods. Of course, I would never wish to impose upon you, but - "

The old woman looked as if she were going to refuse again, but suddenly a young man appeared at her side. "No, don't turn him away on our account," he said. "There is enough space for him as well as for us."

The old woman's eyes met his, and then, with a shrug, she turned away. But once more Kalam had caught that fleeting look of fear in her eyes. Curious, he stepped inside, and saw who "we" were. A slender girl, probably about the same age as the young man, was sitting on a stool close to the fire. She looked up as they entered, a slight uncertainty slipping into her gaze.

Kalam's interest had immediately been awakened by the young man. He looked remarkably like a certain Nobyl who had fled from his family after the fact that he had joined the Resistance became known - Terven pur Arthi.

-Rialtas-

Seeing that Kalarix didn't seem to want to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him, Rialtas moved aside a little and let him have some space. Phaedron went out to talk with a couple of merchants who had just passed by, and the boys were left alone.

Alnair nudged Rialtas. "I don't know quite what to make of this - do you?" he asked. Rialtas rarely saw his older brother looking worried, but he could sense that Alnair was uncomfortable all the same.

"Not quite," he admitted. "Of course, there's nothing exactly suspicious about a Nobyl having happened to turn up, but still..."

"We never had much contact with the Westchoice family, as I remember," Alnair remarked. "Of course we always were - different from lots of the other Nobyls - "

"Different? What do you mean?"

"Oh, never mind," Alnair said. He glanced at Kalarix, who was beginning on his stew. "Why don't I get some stew for us too, and we can join Kalarix? I'm a bit hungry." Rialtas agreed, but he was still lost in thought.

As Alnair went out to the kitchen, Rialtas caught the sound of voices in the hall. Glancing out, he saw Zara talking with a man who was veiled in shadow - another guest? One of the merchants? Who was he? All Rialtas' suspicions were aroused, but he sat where he was, knowing that Zara would surely be able to handle it.

-Zara-

Arran had hardly stepped outside the door before there was a muffled thump. Zara yanked the door open again - it hadn't seen so much opening and closing in years, she thought ironically - and saw a figure collapse across the threshold. Arran, of course, came straight back inside.

"All the world seems to be collapsing in this cottage tonight!" Zara exclaimed, not trying to keep back her irritation. "There is an inn in the village -" Then she broke off. The figure was injured.

"Oh, poor thing!" she whispered. The person was evidently unconscious, lying without moving. He or she - Zara wasn't sure - was dressed in a peasant top and pants, and looked like an average inhabitant of the village. But any of the good-natured, kindly peasants in the village would be safely at home at this hour - it was dark already - and not roaming the pine woods and falling unconcious over doorsteps.

Arran bent over the figure.

"He looks in a bad way," he muttered. "I'd best take him to the village and find a healer, else there could be an infection. I'd treat him myself, but I don't have the equipment - and you don't know how to do such things?"

"Of course I do!" Zara exclaimed, offended, but she relaxed when Arran's expression changed to one of contriteness. "But we just can't keep him here. Kalarix is probably going to stay here for the night, and we've only one guest room. And we don't have anything in the house to feed him with until Father goes to the village tomorrow."

Arran nodded. "Then I'll take him to the village. I have a spare horse that he can lie on until we get there." He glanced around. "I wonder what happened to him... Anyway, I'll be back tomorrow and let you know how he's getting on."

Carrying the limp figure, he went outside the cottage and in a moment was lost to view among the pines.

=Kalam=

Kalam, however, gave no sign that he recognized Terven pur Arthi. "Ah, travelers like myself," he said easily. "It's a good thing to be out of the forest on a night like this. So many thanks, ma'am. It's not every person who would give such hospitality."

"Aye, we're travelers," Terven replied - a trifle defensively, Kalam noticed. "My sister and I are going to meet some relatives in the city near here."

A likely story! thought Kalam. "I see," he said. "You have relatives in Evranel, then?"

The girl lifted her head again and spoke. "Yes," she said. "Rather high-up, in case you were wondering, but nothing very elite. My cousin invited us to stay for a while."

"It's a beautiful city," Kalam commented. "Where do you come from?"

Terven was starting to look bothered by all these questions. He moved over to stand by the fire himself. "South of Kyngdom," he said shortly.

Kalam nodded and was silent. If only the old woman would leave them alone now...! He was sure of Terven's identity. There could be no mistaking that Nobyl pose, unchangeable through years of practice, or the singular defiance and pride in the girl's eyes, or in the way Terven looked. He was older now, to be sure, than in the likenesses Kalam had seen of him, but still.

After a few moments, the old woman set out some cups of a warm, spicy beverage for her guests - and left. Kalam, relieved, went over and picked up one of the cups. Then he turned towards the young man again, smiling. "Well, if we are to be in the same house tonight, we might as well be friendly," he said. "What's your name? Terven pur Arthi, I believe?"

I've been following along for a while now, but I thought I might join!

Name: Scipio pur Keteque

Pronouns: he/him

Age: 12 (a little young, yes I know)

Appearance: short, pale, short black hair with long bangs, brilliant blue-green eyes, likes to wear dark colored clothes, one feather earing.

Personality: Cocky, arrogant, determined, mischevious, brave, reckless, and impulsive.  

Strengths/weaknesses: Is really good at throwing knives and darts, can pickpocket, is full of himself, and thinks he is at the top of the world.

Home: Long Gate. 

Which Nobyl family is he/she from? You can invent your own branch of the Nobyls: Keteque. He is from a side branch of the Keteque family. 

Background: An only child with two doting parents, he wasn't as rich as you'd expect a branch of the Keteque family to be. Growing up in Long Gate, Scipio was allowed to do whatever he wanted. His parents' money slowly dwindled over time, as they continued to buy their son out of whatever mess he'd caused, each time getting bigger and bigger. Hoping it would keep Scipio out of trouble, they sent him to man with a good reputation of training soldiers. While his parents used up the last of their money throwing parties, they didn't know that the man was training Scipio to be an assasain. At age 11, he had killed more than he could count. Coming back home and haunted by nightmares, he found his parents dead and their manor completely destroyed. He's been on the streets ever since, thieving to make a living.

-Scipio-

It was raining. The water dripped off the metal and made little splashes in the puddles forming on the street. Scipio was huddled under a little hut made of old materials, things people had thrown away. "And to think I was once a Nobyl," he thought bitterly. Scipio held no loyalty for any Nobyl family, held distaste in fact. He felt that he was owed some measure of compensation for being left behind and forgotten. He felt that at least, someone should've come looking for him.

He sat, stewing in his hatred, while the complete darkness closed in. He wasn't scared, no, far from it. He'd been trained well enough. He was terrified, though, of the darkness within. The piece of his past that might never go away: his nightmares. 

Scipio's stomach growled. He sighed. His eyelids started to close. Scipio gritted his teeth and pulled his knees in tight, arms wrapped around, not as a comforting blanket, but as a form of confinement. 

The night was dark, too dark to see three feet ahead. Ignoring that, Scipio stood up. As soon as he had left the shelter he was soaked. It felt kind of nice. 

He walked through the empty street, the rain making the only sound. What city was he in again? It didn't matter anyway. Soon, he would be gone, just like the rain. To the next and the next and so on. No one would ever know. 

=Kalam=

For an instant the siblings stiffened. But they hadn't escaped recognition all these years for nothing. Terven laughed. "If I were a Nobyl my life would be different - and a great deal easier, I'm sure," he said. "You've mistaken me for someone else. I'm Kiertan, a merchant from Ev."

"Don't tell me lies," Kalam said. "I won't believe one of them. But you have no reason to fear me - I'm not a Nobyl myself, but an inhabitant of Evranel. I'm part of the Resistance - how could I not be, when I know what Catastrophe's done?" For a moment he dropped the indifferent exterior he always wore. "How could I let these affairs take care of themselves? But the Resistance in Evranel is loose, and I've only joined it secretly anyhow. I'm trying to find Nobyls who have joined the Resistance or might do so."

The girl stood up, the firelight splashing goldenly across her features. "I believe you," she said. "We might as well be frank with each other. I am Arva pur Arthi, and my brother is Terven."

The old woman re-entered just then, and Kalam, who had been about to say something, changed his mind. Arva laughed. "She is loyal to the Resistance too, and knows who we are," she assured Kalam. "That was why she was so reluctant to let you in."

"And now," Terven said, sitting down, "if we're friends - you might as well tell us more about yourself, and we should decide what we're going to do."

^Tarava^

Tarava walked across to the glass doors at one end of the ballroom and looked out at the brilliant, cold moon. It was snowy outside; she hoped Kalam had found shelter for the night. "Stop worrying about him," she told herself. "He can shift for himself." But she couldn't help thinking about him.

Her host was somewhere at the other side of the room, and now, at last, she had a bit of peace, as she had managed to escape her circle of merry friends. Oh, how she hated these extravagant balls. They were being hosted all over Kyngdom, every day, every hour, wasting money and time. Don't think about these things, Tarava. Don't even think about them - while you're here. It's too dangerous. She turned, and glanced around the room full of elegantly dressed Nobyls talking and dancing. Her gaze swept through the crowd - and alighted on one man, about twenty, with black hair, a cocky smile, and a certain careless air that was oddly attractive. It was Rulkan pur Abadore. Tarava smiled a little and turned away. Soon enough, she knew, he would notice her.

She drifted through the throngs of people. Suddenly, she saw a small, pretty girl with a rather nymph-like appearance, who seemed to be some sort of an entertainer. Curious, Tarava wandered nearer. Probably a Nobyl, she decided. She looked nice, with a spark of intelligence and eccentricity mixed with kindness in her green eyes. Tarava went over to her. "Greetings," she said with a smile. "Are you a Nobyl?"

~Cas

I feel very hazy and as I wake up I notice that I am floating? Nope I'm being carried. How embarrassing. 

"my goodness, I am so sorry" I mutter as I try to get myself free. The person carrying me seems to be rather young but very strong though I am not really that heavy. I am just very skinny it is not because of my height!

"Woah hey, you should not be walking right now," The person manages to keep their suprisingly strong.

"I think I can manage" I shoot back. 

"Well suit yourself"

They put me down and I barely take a step before almost collapsing again. Luckily this young boy catches me. What a fool I am. 

"Sorry," I apologize, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to be carried" I can feel my head spinning a bit. 

"Now that we figured that out, My name is Arran,"

"I am Cassius. Call me Cas" 

~~~~~~~ 

I hope this works for Arran! 

Right, here we go!

-Arran-

Arran paused and looked at the figure beside him. The stranger seemed rather full of himself, especially considering his condition, but no matter. He helped Cassuis - or Cas - onto the spare horse, and the two of them set off toward the village.

Conversation languished. Arran was lost in his own thoughts. The Commander would be pleased at the way he had handled things, but had he done right to agree to see Phaedron tomorrow? So much could happen in so short a time - "there's naught one can count on during the night 'twixt eve and morn," as the old men round the campfire liked to say. He sighed. Well, it was no good going back now.

He found the doctor without much trouble, even though it was dark by now, and dropped Cas off there, saying courteously that he would be at the Inn of the Rabbit if Cas wished to speak to him. Then he rode wearily toward the inn. It had been such a long day. Climbing the stairs, he entered his tiny whitewashed room, with a neat bed in an alcove and a bowl of flowers on a table, filling the room with scent. It felt good to be alone, and the familiar inn was more restful than ever. He lay down on the bed and was soon deep in sleep.

My charrie sheet was a bit late, but if anyone wants to interact with Scipio pur Keteque, feel free. 

=Kalam=

"We've been living all over Kyngdom since we joined the Resistance," Arva pur Arthi explained. "Helping the Resistance in whatever way we can. It's amazing how more Nobyls are joining. Only a few, and so many of them turn out to be spies in the end, but there is a movement among the younger Nobyls to help us."

"Ah, yes. Speaking of that," Kalam said, somehow reminded of Tarava by this vivacious girl with the serious eyes and the shining waves of chestnut hair, "if you trust me, trust someone else: Tarava pur Lamour. I'm acting in her behalf, in fact. She gives her help to the Resistance, but she's not very much in contact with it."

"Tarava - pur Lamour?" Terven said with a quick look of doubt coming into his eyes. He pulled out a leather-bound notebook and flipped through it. "Are you sure you trust her? The pur Lamours have always been against us - I suppose you know - since the affair with Lilly. And Tarava's branch of the family is closely linked to Karune's, isn't it?"

"It is," Kalam acknowledged. "But that means nothing. Tarava is committed to the Resistance with all her heart - secretly. I've been trusting her with my secrets for two years, and never in that time has she betrayed my trust in the least. She'd help the Resistance if it led to her death, I'm sure of it. And another thing - do you know just where Aakash pur Keteque is? He's important in the Resistance, but I've never managed to find him."

"Of course we know where he is," Arva said with a smile. "We'll direct you to him tomorrow."

|Rulkan pur Abadore|

Name: Rulkan

Pronouns: he/him

Age: twenty-one? Around there

Appearance: Tall, handsome, with black hair and dark eyes, and a rather arrogant air. Not much else to say about the way he looks :)

Personality: Decided, calm, sure of himself, and committed to his cause.

Strengths/weaknesses: As I said, he's sure of himself, and he's fair-minded and is fairly skillful at handing conversations. However, he doesn't feel he can trust any of the people around him, and he's somewhat dissatisfied with the life he's leading.

Home: He has several palaces in Kyngdom; one of them is in Evranel.

Which Nobyl family is he/she from? You can invent your own branch of the Nobyls: the pur Abadore family

Background: His parents died when he was fifteen, leaving him to later try to gain control of his property from an uncle who wanted to keep it. He's managed to get power and influence, and by now has quite a bit of power under Catastrophe. He's absolutely trusted and often goes to places like Lord Helion's ball, although sometimes he wishes he could forget about all of it and have a more peaceful life. Not that that's what he's going to get, obviously...

I shall now begin with Caladia's part of the story! I'd rather not have Caladia interact with any other charries just yet, if no one minds - I'd rather be fully in charge of her story, at least for now.

-Caladia-

Caladia leaned on her windowsill and looked out at the sky. The sun was setting over the city of Turqesa. A warm breeze ruffled her hair. Turquesa's rooftops were fiery red in the vivid, clear light. The sky was a mass of vermilion and dark stormy purple; overhead, though, it was the faintest of blues, delicate as an eggshell. Someone called out from one of the houses, and was answered by a comforting woman's voice; the world seemed at peace. Caladia sighed happily and shifted more comfortable against the warm stone windowsill.

She was a girl of eighteen; a Nobyl of one of Kyngdom's highest families, living in the lap of luxury. Her family's palace, in southern Kyngdom, was one of the most admired buildings of the country; architecture students were always begging to come and tour it and make studies of "the DiBucchio towers! the Riddah arches!" The gardens, too, were exquisite, fountains and courtyards and peacocks and roses and grape arbors... Caladia loved the palace, loved every room and nook and corner of it, for it had always been her home. She had lived here all her life, with her large family. Her sweet-spirited, proud mother; her indulgent, slightly gruff father, who was apt to spoil her; and her many brothers and sisters and cousins who were always popping in and out of the palace.

Just then the door opened and her mother, Diana, came in. She paused a moment in the doorway and looked at her daughter, an expression of tenderness in her eyes. She was a lovely woman, with long red hair, shining eyes that were green in some lights and dark in others, and a slender, graceful figure. 

"Hello, Caladia," she said, smiling. "Isn't it a lovely sunset?"

Caladia nodded dreamily. "It must be one of the most beautiful ones of this whole year."

"Perhaps it is." Diana came to stand at her daughter's side. "Well, we're going to the bazaar in the main square. Would you like to come?"

"Oh, yes!" Caladia cried. She loved the eveniing bazaar - its smells of roasting meat, its sounds of the street musicians playing guitars and flutes and drums, its sights of dancers and vendors and other elite Kyngdomers walking round seeing the sights. She rushed to get ready, little thinking that this would be her last ordinary day for a long, long time to come.

^Tarava^

Tarava talked for a while with the girl, who appeared to be a Nobyl from the pur Silvalis family. But her thoughts kept wandering. To Karune, the strange, fierce, exotic girl who sided in the end with Jaaws. To Lilly, and how her family had cut off all funding for the Resistance. And to a tall, black-haired young man with the dancing black eyes, who was so powerful and so closely woven into Catastrophe's ranks...

"Am I interrupting?" It was an assured voice that broke into their conversation. Tarava turned to find herself looking directly into those dark eyes. So he had noticed that she was there.

She smiled. "Ah, Rulkan. No, of course not. Eon, this is Rulkan pur Abadore... Rulkan, this is Eon pur Silvalis. Eon darling, could you excuse us?"

The girl nodded, a spark of amusement in her eyes, and Tarava wandered off across the crowded room with Rulkan. He was handsome, nobody could deny that - extremely handsome. And there was something about his air that attracted her heart, just as surely as his position repelled her mind. She wasn't sure at all of his feelings about her. They spent a lot of time together, but then they lived nearby and were of similar ages, so that was only to be expected; and he was always merry when he was with her, but never, at least until now, flirtatious...

As if he had heard her thoughts, he looked at her and asked smoothly, "Would you enjoy going out to the gardens? There's a moon tonight."

"Oh." Tarava smiled, hiding her surprise. "I suppose we could."

The moonlight flooded the ornate gardens, adding an almost magical element to the arches and ornamental lakes and pathways. But Tarava knew Rulkan well enough to be sure that he wasn't even looking at it. He was looking at her.

They both paused, of one accord, on the edge of the lake. Rulkan turned towards her, but now his eyes were lingering on the sparkling ripples. "Tarava," he said lightly, "you see a lot of Kalam, don't you?"

"Somewhat," Tarava admitted.

"Is he in Evranel now?" Rulkan asked.

Tarava was instantly much more on her guard against the lightness, the casualness, of his tone. "I don't know, Rulkan. What does it matter?"

"Nothing, I suppose," Rulkan said after a moment, and they turned suddenly to go in; Tarava was suddenly chilled by the moonlight, and wanted the warmth and gaiety of the goldenly-lit palace.

My school took away our computers, so I had to write this on my phone, so I apologize for how long it took me to write this, considering the length and quality of the writing.

-Arietis-

Evening had fallen, and the night air was crisp. Arietis shivered in her off-the-shoulder white gown, rubbing at the gooseflesh that had risen on her arms. It wasn’t really because of the chill, she reflected, as she gazed up at Lord Helion’s palace. Tonight would change things, she knew — but for better or for worse, she could only hope. Oh, enough of this nonsense, she chastised herself, and walked briskly up the palace steps and was admitted into the ball.
The ballroom was beautiful and grand, every surface glittering with wealth, and it felt almost alien to Arietis. Yes, she lived in a manor herself, and yes, it was undeniably that of a wealthy Nobyl — but her home was, well, it was a home; the furniture was ornate, but it was worn from years of use. The rare books on the shelves and the original artwork on the walls allowed one to look at the world through the eyes of her father. The exquisitely crafted trinkets on every surface spoke of the kind of person living in that house. But here — here, the only thing the glittering chandeliers and the gold inlaid in the walls said about Lord Helion was that he was wealthy and powerful, and he liked to flaunt it. 

Well, actually, that did tell Arietis quite a bit about the person Lord Helion was. 

“Arietis!” 

The voice that had spoken belonged to a middle aged person, Arietis discovered, vaguely recognizable as Blayr pur Derefoni, an old friend of her father’s. If she recalled correctly, they were a rather high-ranking Nobyl who threw extravagant parties and tossed money around about as carefully as if it were salt and pepper. Arietis didn’t think they were much of a Resistance sympathizer, but she also didn’t think they fully agreed with Catastrophe’s rule. They’d be a good place to start.

“Arietis pur Venori. I didn’t expect to see you here. No one’s seen you out much after your father…” 

Arietis managed to steer the conversation in another direction, away from talk of her father, a known Resistance sympathizer. Yes, her father had died four years ago, and yes, it was truly a tragedy, but oh, had Blayr tried the food yet? It was supposed to be delicious…

The conversation was dull, and Arietis was never really one for small talk anyway. She smiled and nodded and occasionally commented — anything to fit in among the cheerful, laughing Nobyls.

This is going to be a long night.

~~~

Aaand Arietis's forms:

Name: Arietis pur Venori

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 15 or 16

Appearance: She’s slightly shorter than average, and slender but not skinny with a deep bronze skin tone and dark eyes. Her hair is a very dark brown, almost black, and is about shoulder-blade length and slightly wavy. She often wears it down or pinned up in an elegant bun. Likely to be wearing a ring with a poisonous spike, and probably has at least two daggers on her at all times.

Personality: She’s sophisticated and rather elegant, yet she’s also very practical and down-to-earth. If she needs something done, she’ll do it herself, because she typically doesn’t trust anyone else to do something for her — and besides, she can probably do it better herself anyway. Generally, she has a very no-nonsense attitude, and is very decisive and stubborn. She can be a bit arrogant and haughty at times, and has a tendency to make condescending remarks. She’s very capable, independent, and mature, and she won’t ask for help or admit to needing help. 

Strengths/weaknesses: She’s confident, independent, and practical. Good at keeping secrets and will never go back on a promise. Adequate in hand-to-hand/close-range combat and good with a knife. Her biggest asset is probably the fact that no one would expect her — a well dressed, rather elegant Nobyl — to know how to fight. / She has difficulty expressing her feelings, and can be arrogant and haughty without meaning to be at times. She’s lousy with long-range weapons. Not very trusting. Terrible at collaborating with others. Won’t ask for help, even if she needs it. 

Home: The sprawling Pur Venori Estate in Northwest Kyngdom — just to the north of Olde Windswood, I think. 

Which Nobyl family is he/she from?: The Pur Venori family. 

Background: So there’s an extremely long backstory typed up on the Who’s Here? thread but basically what you need to know is that her parents passed away years ago and she lives at the Pur Venori Estate alone, and she’s decided to use her wealth and high ranking to try and infiltrate the circle of Nobyls who are loyal to Catastrophe. She’s hesitant to join the Resistance, however, because she isn’t entirely sure she can trust them; besides, she would much rather organize her own missions than be sent on ones. She’s going to put her plan into action at Lord Helion’s ball, though things will likely not go as planned.