*Palmyra Creze
*Alliria
*Nomadic
*Healer
*Speaker to the divine
*Odd jobs
*Wife on the run
(Lawful good)
https://twitter.com/DianaDworak/status/938463243953147905
Palmyra is the child of two tavern owners. Her mother and father never quite got over the loss of a babe born before her and never grew attached to Palmyra. They saw Palmyra as a bargaining chip with Maraan traders, and were willing to sell her into wedlock to keep the family afloat. She runs from her husband over and over.
Appearance
Palmyra is a short young girl. She has lovely eyes and a sweet smile which she often shows. She has long dark hair and olive skin. She may appear a tad exotic as she prefers to wear linen clothing often sporting a head wrap. She is often seen sporting a gold wristband with a couple chain links from her escape from her stately home.
Skills and Abilities
Palmyra is a bubbly girl and is like everyone's kid sister. +
She has people skills+
She works hard+
She's kind+
Knows how to forage+
Plant knowledge+
She is often taken advantage off-
Little to no backbone-
Meek-
Sensitive-
No formal fighting training-
Low self esteem-
Clingy-
She has people skills+
She works hard+
She's kind+
Knows how to forage+
Plant knowledge+
She is often taken advantage off-
Little to no backbone-
Meek-
Sensitive-
No formal fighting training-
Low self esteem-
Clingy-
Personality
Palmyra is a kind girl who would give anyone the shirt off her back. She helps anyone and everyone the best she can and is aiming to open a herb based healing center. She is very naive and has little to no recognition of how bad the world really is. Palmyra is an extremely hard worker and has great people skills, and has yet to meet anyone who didn't like her. She is very sensitive yet has a hard time taking/retaliating insults, in result of being insulted she'll likely thank the person for their constructive criticism or apologize. She nearly never yells, unless it's too be supportive. She is a very sweet person and will most definitely give you a hug if need be no matter who you are. She isn't scared or judgemental of people who look unusual and she doesn't care about money at all.
Palmyra owns two outfits, her work clothes and a pale linen dress. She often wraps a yellow linen wrap around her head as she grew up in hotter climate. Her appearance doesn't matter to her and neither do material possessions. Where ever she lives her room is likely to include a bed roll, her herbs, two outfits, and loads of books. On rare occasion she may own up to two plates.
When she is found and forced by her husband's side she is forced into finer clothing and surrounded by possessions she does not want. She is her husband's possession despite her best efforts and she is bound by law.
Palmyra owns two outfits, her work clothes and a pale linen dress. She often wraps a yellow linen wrap around her head as she grew up in hotter climate. Her appearance doesn't matter to her and neither do material possessions. Where ever she lives her room is likely to include a bed roll, her herbs, two outfits, and loads of books. On rare occasion she may own up to two plates.
When she is found and forced by her husband's side she is forced into finer clothing and surrounded by possessions she does not want. She is her husband's possession despite her best efforts and she is bound by law.
Biography & Lore
Palmyra's mother lost her first child during birth. This devastated her parents and they never quite recovered, before long the two tavern owners threw themselves into their business with the intentions of letting their bloodline fizzle out into non existence. Alas for the one day her mother awoke to a familiar illness she had only experienced with the first pregnancy. Yet this pregnancy was different it was placed nine years after the loss of the couple's first child yet Palmyra's mother felt nothing. When she told her husband the olding man felt nothing as well. Despite their efforts their bloodline would continue. The couple was aging and as humans were running out of time.
When the babe was born; Palmyra, no one attended the birth. Not even Palmyra's father. Palmyra was insignificant to her parents and always would be despite her best efforts. Growing up Palmyra excelled at everything she did, she even studied under a Maraan herb woman to show her parents she was with their time and their affections yet no matter what she did her parents simply had no cares whatsoever about her.
Palmyra fell into neglect yet despite this she never truly fell into bad habits, instead she worked to be better and better just for a little smidgen of love, or respect in her household. She often went days without seeing either of her parents as she lived above the tavern and her parents in a house she had never seen. Palmyra was sure her mother and father had to have spent time with her as a baby but from as long as she could remember from toddlerhood to teenagehood Palmyra never lived with them. It was always the same, "We've dropped some soup Palmyra. Make it last six days." or "Don't go into the tavern", "We've locked your bedroom door Palmyra." never "Come home with us Palmyra." but that was her life. Her parents weren't bad parents they clothed, housed, and fed her for the sixteen years leading up to her leaving.
Her life had always been steady until she was fourteen. Palmyra never broke the rules her parents set out; ever. After feeling depressed after her mother wouldn't hug her after she split her leg open Palmyra got angry and realized her mother forgot to lock her bedroom door. Palmyra then had access to an empty tavern and all of her parent's offices and decided she'd explore. She ran down the stairs and burst into her mother's stuffy office. She remembered how much the office smelled of her mother, a smell Palmyra had always been aware of but never truly smelt. She felt loved in that cramped room.
Palmyra's parents didn't truly love each other and Palmyra knew this, they just coexisted as land owners. Hence different offices. As Palmyra searched around she opened a tiny drawer on the side of her mother's desk accidently. It looked like it didn't exist until her fingers accidently brushed the side. Inside was a packet of portraits, of a blonde haired elf girl. In scratchy handwriting she didn't recognise on each of the portraits it read "Syvis" and above them in her mother's hand writing read "Dayana" a name that made Palmyra sick to her stomach. Dayana. Dayana the babe who "died" nine years before her birth. Dayana the daughter she would never live up to. Dayana, the daughter who never really died.
Palmyra than realized the lies and deceit concealed within her family, yet she'd never make it on her own so she stayed. For two years she stayed, until the eve of her sixteenth birthday where she overheard her parents closing up in the tavern beneath her. They'd sold her to a rich lord, they'd met the night before. Her parents sold Palmyra into wedlock with a lord nearly double her age to save their own asses. They'd done this for the money and to rid her of their care, it was despicable. Truly evil. She couldn't run she was locked in her room, until the morning her husband came and got her.
Palmyra's husband was disgusting. Although they were already married in the eyes of the law they'd yet to have a ceremony. He drug her to Alliria with him where they had a grand ceremony she despised. Her home was grand and her husband boarish. She has ran away from him and their estate a total of nine times in the year they've been wed making it as far as Falwood. She has yet to officially escape her wed, but when she is wandering working job to job she is looking for Dayana, or Syvis in hopes her sister may save her.
When the babe was born; Palmyra, no one attended the birth. Not even Palmyra's father. Palmyra was insignificant to her parents and always would be despite her best efforts. Growing up Palmyra excelled at everything she did, she even studied under a Maraan herb woman to show her parents she was with their time and their affections yet no matter what she did her parents simply had no cares whatsoever about her.
Palmyra fell into neglect yet despite this she never truly fell into bad habits, instead she worked to be better and better just for a little smidgen of love, or respect in her household. She often went days without seeing either of her parents as she lived above the tavern and her parents in a house she had never seen. Palmyra was sure her mother and father had to have spent time with her as a baby but from as long as she could remember from toddlerhood to teenagehood Palmyra never lived with them. It was always the same, "We've dropped some soup Palmyra. Make it last six days." or "Don't go into the tavern", "We've locked your bedroom door Palmyra." never "Come home with us Palmyra." but that was her life. Her parents weren't bad parents they clothed, housed, and fed her for the sixteen years leading up to her leaving.
Her life had always been steady until she was fourteen. Palmyra never broke the rules her parents set out; ever. After feeling depressed after her mother wouldn't hug her after she split her leg open Palmyra got angry and realized her mother forgot to lock her bedroom door. Palmyra then had access to an empty tavern and all of her parent's offices and decided she'd explore. She ran down the stairs and burst into her mother's stuffy office. She remembered how much the office smelled of her mother, a smell Palmyra had always been aware of but never truly smelt. She felt loved in that cramped room.
Palmyra's parents didn't truly love each other and Palmyra knew this, they just coexisted as land owners. Hence different offices. As Palmyra searched around she opened a tiny drawer on the side of her mother's desk accidently. It looked like it didn't exist until her fingers accidently brushed the side. Inside was a packet of portraits, of a blonde haired elf girl. In scratchy handwriting she didn't recognise on each of the portraits it read "Syvis" and above them in her mother's hand writing read "Dayana" a name that made Palmyra sick to her stomach. Dayana. Dayana the babe who "died" nine years before her birth. Dayana the daughter she would never live up to. Dayana, the daughter who never really died.
Palmyra than realized the lies and deceit concealed within her family, yet she'd never make it on her own so she stayed. For two years she stayed, until the eve of her sixteenth birthday where she overheard her parents closing up in the tavern beneath her. They'd sold her to a rich lord, they'd met the night before. Her parents sold Palmyra into wedlock with a lord nearly double her age to save their own asses. They'd done this for the money and to rid her of their care, it was despicable. Truly evil. She couldn't run she was locked in her room, until the morning her husband came and got her.
Palmyra's husband was disgusting. Although they were already married in the eyes of the law they'd yet to have a ceremony. He drug her to Alliria with him where they had a grand ceremony she despised. Her home was grand and her husband boarish. She has ran away from him and their estate a total of nine times in the year they've been wed making it as far as Falwood. She has yet to officially escape her wed, but when she is wandering working job to job she is looking for Dayana, or Syvis in hopes her sister may save her.
References
https://chroniclesrp.net/Folklore/Maraan
https://chroniclesrp.net/Folklore/Syvis-Quimaer
https://maps.chroniclesrp.net/#
https://chroniclesrp.net/Folklore/Syvis-Quimaer
https://maps.chroniclesrp.net/#
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