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For Use In:General Purpose RPs, could be used as a Sitter.

Name: Larese Aleszar (NSW)
Age: 109
Place of Birth/Raising: Arafel?

Physical Description: Tall and willowy, Larese is of Arafellin stock. She has strawberry blonde hair that falls to the small of her back in soft, untamed waves. Her eyes are brown flecked with hints of green and undertones of gold. Her skin is pale with hints of red just beneath its surface.

Personality: By many of her sisters, specifically her Blue sisters, Larese has been labeled as a dreamer who has her head in the clouds more often than not. And while she does exhibit many characteristics of a stereotypical Brown, it is only because her Cause draws her to do so. Larese collects local legends, similar to the one following about the Widow of the Lake and traces them back to historical events that could possibly shed light on gaps in history that remain unclear. Though, this is more of a cover than anything. In truth, her Cause is to decipher the Prophecies of the Dragon and to that end, deciphering folk-tales gives her some practice as well as an excuse to leave the Tower for long periods of time.


Character History Edit

Fog clouded her vision as she traced the ever-changing, ever-shrinking edge of the lake. She had been warned before not walk in this weather as the fog reduced visibility so much so that she could not see her feet, let alone the soft earth upon which she walked. But Larese had never paid much mind to those warnings; in fact, she never paid much mind to anything that anyone had to say. She was a girl content within her own mind, lost in it many said. So be it, she was happy to be oblivious to the outside world.

The pain shot up through her ankle and into the depth of her being. She shrieked as her barefoot plunged into the cold, fresh water. Desperately she tried to grab a hold of the short grass that lie before her, but due to the heavy rain they had been experiencing the ground was soft and the pieces she managed to latch on to ripped up violently from the earth. Her breath was becoming ragged as nerves overtook her. Thoughts of the future raced through her mind, leaving her unable to think of what to do. Would they find her before she drowned? Would it hurt when her heart stopped? Would they find her body or would it begin to rot inside of the water?

She had heard a story once, of a small boy who had fallen into the lake and drowned. They found his body six days later on the opposite shore, bloated and falling apart. Would that be her fate? In vain, she struggled to gain some sort of footing, but her ankle was crippled and her short arms prevented her from pushing herself up. “Help me, please!,” she called out. But there was no one to hear her pleas. She would die alone as she had spent her thirteen years of life. A strange calm swept over her as she allowed the lake to pull her closer to its center, letting the water drag her light body to its resting place.

There was a local legend of a woman who, after the death of her entire family in a horrid fire had plunged herself into the lake, swearing to make it her domain for eternity. They called her the Widow of the Lake and according to legend; she would appear from time to time, levitating above the lake’s center, screaming for her dead family. It was also said that if you could make it to the center of the lake, the Widow would mistake you for her son or daughter and save you.

Larese felt as though the Widow was the lake itself. It’s steady currents caressed her as a mother would and the distant sound of the tiny waves crashing against the rocks which surrounded it seemed to lull her into a trance-like state. As she drifted she became light and free, even as she descended further and further toward her end. And then suddenly she felt a strange warmth come over her and a searing light penetrated her being. The current of the water began to push her away from the center and back towards the shore. Her body shook with splendor as she moved faster and faster, inexorably traveling toward the remainder of her life.

When at last she finally reached the shore from where she had come, a large wave deposited her on the wet ground and rather than limp home, she curled up on the ground and looked out at the lake. The legend of the Widow was true! The Great Lady had saved her from disaster and now she would live to travel along the path the Wheel had destined for her.

Not more than a week later, Larese became violently ill and it was discovered that there was in fact no Widow of the Lake, but that she had channeled for her first time. She was sent at once to the White Tower and spent the average time as both a Novice and Accepted. Her days as an initiate to the sisterhood were uneventful. She has worn the Shawl for seventy-nine years and has spent most of her time outside of the Tower. Only recently has she been called back by order of the First Selector, Sareine Kajira.




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