Aphelion

Aphelion Morwen Seremela (VI)
Created	January 6, 2014
Status	Active
Race	Human (Kindred)
Hometown	Riverhold
Classes	Cleric Ranger Thug
Followed	DarkClaw

Current Description:

No one could mistake this woman for one of the delicate flowers of the
Court, though she knows and understands its intrigues. Schooled by the 
soldier-diplomat father that raised her, Aphelion learned the signs of 
a lie, how to win a battle at the end of a day's forced march and each
and every language of the known world. Despite her military upbringing, 
there is a stunning beauty to her features: Full, kissable lips, silver
gray eyes, hair of midnight, a streak of scarlet at the crown her only 
vanity. Clothed in House colors of sanguine and black, her garb serves
to accentuate her tall, lean form and leonine strength.  Cinched about 
her narrow waist is a squire's belt of crimson leather, proclaiming an 
oath of fealty given and the lessons she intends to learn. The seal of 
House Seremela is visible upon one gauntleted hand, a reminder of duty 
that awaits her and the honor she must defend.

WHO Lists:

01/07/14  -  Hum [       Cl: 8       ] Aphelion Morwen Seremela
01/13/14  -  Hum [    Ra: 9 Cl: 9    ] Aphelion Morwen Seremela
01/17/14  -  Hum [ Tg: 9 Cl: 9 Ra: 9 ] Aphelion Morwen Seremela
01/20/14  -  Hum [ Cl:12 Tg:12 Ra:12 ] Aphelion Morwen Seremela, Squired to Venom
01/25/14  -  Hum [ Cl:17 Ra:15 Tg:15 ] Aphelion Morwen Seremela, Squired to Venom
01/27/14  -  Hum [ Ra:17 Cl:18 Tg:15 ] Aphelion Morwen Seremela, Squired to Venom
02/03/14  -  Hum [ Cl:22 Tg:18 Ra:18 ] Aphelion has Lost her family name.

Character History:

It is not the endless repetition of my tutors that was the musical score of my childhood – it was the cadence of marching feet and the calling of drills that echoed through the courtyard of the manor. Father took his duties as a captain of the Kayrron Guard seriously and the men at arms of our household were put through their paces no less rigorously than those of the city. As soon as I could hold a stick, I would mimic them from the balcony of my chamber, which had a bird’s eye view of their movements – far more interesting than practicing embroidery or canning preserves. Father indulged me, so long as my instructors gave me good marks, once bragging to a friend that I was a more apt student than most of his two-year cadets.

After his service to the guard was up, Father could have become a condottieri, but instead, decided to continue his service to Kayrron, as an ambassador. Cookery and the laying in of herbs were replaced with geography and language. We left behind the safety of our manor and moved in different circles: glittering courts with bright flowers and stalking creatures, intrigues and shadow dealings. I learned to wear the plumage and blend in with the other doves, despite a hawk’s heart, all while using my eyes to see and my ears to hear that which would assist my father in his negotiations. Hated lessons in dance mingled with memorizing the lineage of the Great Houses and the proper placement of forks -- and daggers. Whispers followed, of course – the false pity for a girl with a mother lost in childbirth, dragged about by a father more accustomed to the field of honor than the field of politics. I learned to ignore it; those lessons would prove handy.

Years passed; my world was my father and my governess, Shuvalriel, and our travels. I saw the gleaming spires of Cillidellia, travelled the ancient roads of the North, picked mushrooms in caves beneath dwarven cities, listened silently and veiled in vast deserts, knelt in prayer beneath a night sky, and learned of the One I would accept as my deity. Shuvalriel was pleased when I pledged to Onieros, dark Father of Dreams to the Drow elves. Her schooling in her native tongue had been peppered with ritual songs and tales of adventure.

I noticed first; the paleness to his features. The way that Father’s breath would sometimes catch unexpectedly during moments of exertion. His pace had slowed; it was to be expected, given the weight that soldiering buries deep in the bones. In his advanced years, old wounds pained him more, but this was something else, something more pernicious. None of the remedies in any of the lands we had travelled gave him comfort. I hired sages and priests to no avail; none could cure him, only ease the pain somewhat.

We returned to the manor in Kayrron for the first time in a decade and I sought out the oldest shelves of the library, seeking some mention of anything that could stave off this malady. There, I found a whisper of it: the blood of the Kindred was rumored to be a cure for any ailment. While Kindred were not uncommon in Kayrron, a recent edict by the Prince had sent them all into hiding, upon threat of meeting the sun – it appears his Highness had not appreciated the attentions of his favorite paramour being distracted by their presence. I would have to seek them elsewhere.

This is my quest; to find the cure.

Trivia:

• Aphelion is the fifth vampire created by DarkClaw

Personal Timeline:

01/20/14: Aphelion swears personal fealty to Venom for a year and a day.
01/21/14: Aphelion is attacked by Ort and harassed by Sagan when she responds with silence. Sagan says (in common), 'Aphelion's not talking much, her mouth is probably full. :('. As an unaligned, the Rule of Three is not honored, having not been requested in advance.
01/25/14: Aphelion is slain by Ort. Determined to put this shame behind her, she gains nine ascensions in the next 36 hours.
01/28/14: Aphelion is slain by Zephyr.
02/03/14: Against her will, Aphelion is Turned by DarkClaw when she makes the mistake of offering the out-of-control vampire a blood oath, after her term of service is abruptly ended by Mayhem