Post by Almia Storm on Jan 19, 2017 7:26:05 GMT
Almia Storm
Age: 20
Skills
Social
-Seduction: 55
-Charm: 40
-Observation: 40
Intrigue
-Forgery: 40
-Espionage: 50
-Stealth: 40
-Sleight of Hand: 40
Knowledge
-Medicine (Poison): 75 (+5)
Languages
- Common Tongue: 20
Character History:
Born the bastard daughter of Gellart Dondarrion, Steward of Storms End, Almia grew up with more opportunity than most cursed by the name Storm. Her families wealth provided her the ability to apprentice underneath the Lord's Maester, despite her gender. She was a quick learner, and took to the art of medicine naturally.
At the age of fifteen her parents started fostering her to other houses in an effort to keep her busy. She had built the reputation of a troublemaker, and a particular flirt with the local boys. Thinking travel would set her straight, Gellart and his wife agreed the farther she was from home, the better.
Dorn was her first real homestead, one she quickly fell in love with. After traveling from town to town down the coast, this was the first place she decided to sink in roots. Women were equal in Dorn, though perhaps still not in title. She was free to be herself, promiscuity and all. It was here that her love of medicine transformed into something else entirely, a passion for brewing poisons. She drank, fucked, and read for a eighteen months before spontaneous inspiration called for an adventure.
It was during her travels to Old Town when the war broke out in the Reach. Almia and her caravan were attacked by soldiers on the road, claiming them for Blackfyre spies. Many of the men were murdered on the spot, the women faced a more gruesome fate. Foreseeing her inevitable fate, Almia threw caution to the wind and made her final stand. She coated her lips with an odorless poison called "Widow's blood," made from the petals of a flower grown in Dorn. When her assailant attempted to rape her, her unknowingly licked the poison from her lips. He was on the ground, suffocating in agony, before he ever had the chance to pull off his trousers. Almia, seeing her only opportunity, made a run for it. She tried her best to clean her lips of the poison, however she only made it several miles into the woods before collapsing from the toxin. She thought she was going to die out there, as the loss of breath took her. Yet she awoke, free and unharmed.
For the next few years Almia moved from town to town, keeping her head low and her feminine figure disguised. She learned to survive, how to steal, and how to not be seen. Mile by mile she worked her way back home, continuously dosing herself with Jade lily so that she may build a tolerance to it. The Widow's Kiss helped to save her several times throughout her journey, a red vile of the poison never absent from her person.
She eventually made her way back to the Stormlands, and by the end of the war, Almia's days were spent on the front, patching soldiers wounded in battle. When the war ended she felt the desire for adventure return. With word of a grand tournament being held in the Riverlands, Almia packed her bags. There were few things as exciting as seeing a new place, and none could be more alluring than the cursed Harrenhal.
Physical Description:
Almia is a classic beauty, petite with a pear shape body. Nat has moles on her cheeks adding to her charm and unique beauty. She is 160cm, with hazel eyes and light brown hair that runs the length of her back.
Reputation:
Almia is a known flirt, though the question of her promiscuity is one often discussed amongst the men that know her. She is a smart girl, plays coy, and never speaks out of turn. She can play the game.
Age: 20
Skills
Social
-Seduction: 55
-Charm: 40
-Observation: 40
Intrigue
-Forgery: 40
-Espionage: 50
-Stealth: 40
-Sleight of Hand: 40
Knowledge
-Medicine (Poison): 75 (+5)
Languages
- Common Tongue: 20
Character History:
Born the bastard daughter of Gellart Dondarrion, Steward of Storms End, Almia grew up with more opportunity than most cursed by the name Storm. Her families wealth provided her the ability to apprentice underneath the Lord's Maester, despite her gender. She was a quick learner, and took to the art of medicine naturally.
At the age of fifteen her parents started fostering her to other houses in an effort to keep her busy. She had built the reputation of a troublemaker, and a particular flirt with the local boys. Thinking travel would set her straight, Gellart and his wife agreed the farther she was from home, the better.
Dorn was her first real homestead, one she quickly fell in love with. After traveling from town to town down the coast, this was the first place she decided to sink in roots. Women were equal in Dorn, though perhaps still not in title. She was free to be herself, promiscuity and all. It was here that her love of medicine transformed into something else entirely, a passion for brewing poisons. She drank, fucked, and read for a eighteen months before spontaneous inspiration called for an adventure.
It was during her travels to Old Town when the war broke out in the Reach. Almia and her caravan were attacked by soldiers on the road, claiming them for Blackfyre spies. Many of the men were murdered on the spot, the women faced a more gruesome fate. Foreseeing her inevitable fate, Almia threw caution to the wind and made her final stand. She coated her lips with an odorless poison called "Widow's blood," made from the petals of a flower grown in Dorn. When her assailant attempted to rape her, her unknowingly licked the poison from her lips. He was on the ground, suffocating in agony, before he ever had the chance to pull off his trousers. Almia, seeing her only opportunity, made a run for it. She tried her best to clean her lips of the poison, however she only made it several miles into the woods before collapsing from the toxin. She thought she was going to die out there, as the loss of breath took her. Yet she awoke, free and unharmed.
For the next few years Almia moved from town to town, keeping her head low and her feminine figure disguised. She learned to survive, how to steal, and how to not be seen. Mile by mile she worked her way back home, continuously dosing herself with Jade lily so that she may build a tolerance to it. The Widow's Kiss helped to save her several times throughout her journey, a red vile of the poison never absent from her person.
She eventually made her way back to the Stormlands, and by the end of the war, Almia's days were spent on the front, patching soldiers wounded in battle. When the war ended she felt the desire for adventure return. With word of a grand tournament being held in the Riverlands, Almia packed her bags. There were few things as exciting as seeing a new place, and none could be more alluring than the cursed Harrenhal.
Physical Description:
Almia is a classic beauty, petite with a pear shape body. Nat has moles on her cheeks adding to her charm and unique beauty. She is 160cm, with hazel eyes and light brown hair that runs the length of her back.
Reputation:
Almia is a known flirt, though the question of her promiscuity is one often discussed amongst the men that know her. She is a smart girl, plays coy, and never speaks out of turn. She can play the game.
