The priestesses of Alegrarse are each rated at 550 posts; except for the High Priestess Malaya who is rated at 650 posts, and follow the strain of the Psychic; as has been approved by The Gunslinger, and DestinySendName:
High Priestess to Regent Xanthe HamiltonBiography:
Malaya was never very good at the concubine thing. Once upon a time, she was but a lowly waitress in one of the many pubs of Alegrarse, until the fateful day that the youngest prince came of age (Sixteen), and took her for his own. She didn't like her new lifestyle. The fabrics were too light on her skin, the callouses disappeared from her hands, and the sex? Yeah, it wasn't all that great. Still, the wealth and the shelter was worth it, and she followed through with the demands made of her to the best that she could until a strange voice pierced the dulling thoughts of her mind, bidding her come to the throne room... baring a crossbow. It was she to convince the rest of the concubines to listen to this voice, and though she wept tears as though they were blood to see the head of her prince placed at her feet... her sorrow was short lived.
Xanthe, she very quickly decided, was very much like her. A woman outside of her nature, with a fighting spirit. For this reason if for no other, she would follow the woman-- but there were more. The new Regent offered to train her in the ways of battle. Offered to return to her her dignity under the new title of High Priestess. This was not an offer she could refuse... besides, if nothing else, her first night under her Regents rule had proved that nothing would be boring again, so long as she stood beside that woman.Appearance:
Tall, slender, and shapely. Over her years in the temple, Malaya's skin grew pale, but by Xanthe's side she has seen more sun than she truly cares to admit. She did not burn, however, rather her skin has taken a golden, freckled glow. Her face is damn close to an image of perfection, framed by rolling crimson hair, set with deeply soulful brown "Bedroom eyes". Most of the time, she dresses in a dress similar to what she would have worn as a concubine, save for the fact that the fabric is a good deal looser, and an opaque cotton; tied at the waist with a braided leather belt. Hidden beneath the broad, swooping sleeves of this very white dress are the gauntlets that mark her as a Priestess, reminiscent of normal, bicep length gloves save for the fact that they have been crafted from Iron, and are intricately etched with claws that can be snapped in or out of the bottoms of the fingers. Personality:
Whoever said redheads had a temper were right. Although she does know to keep her mouth shut in the face of her superiors (A lesson well learned on the first night of her new servitude), she doesn't take shit from anyone else. Since her annointing, many guards have reported receiving the gashes (Normally found on their cheeks or arms) from her gauntlets... but she insists, of course, that they must have been driven quite mad from the sun in the most demure way humanly possible. As the leader of the priestesses, known as such to the public, it is Malaya's job to keep their ultimate responsibility quite well hidden. As far as the public knows, their only purpose is to recite prayers to their regent, and look pretty when she is giving a speech, and the reality of it is something she would happily kill to protect. She has very little in the way of morals, and very little in the way of fear... as neither can be found in a soul that has been broken; but she finds happiness in her new purpose, and this is enough for her.Theme Song: Secret
-- The Pierces
Bought in North CliffOccupation:
There was a point, which Canna will tell you with much enthusiasm, that her visage was among the most terrifying in all of Kerlock. A girl-child talented in the ways of the psychic wandered the continent mostly freely for years, though she can't remember where she was born, oftentimes passing herself off as the orphan that she was to travelers and merchants until they grew very weary. It was then, and only then that Canna would have her fun, striking their dreams with terror and making entertaining use of evocation while she pretended to be just as frightened. Her games oftentimes had lasted for two days at least, three at most, before she revealed herself to be the cause, killed the traveler and took anything that they had left. In this way, she survived comfortably and with no small measure of entertainment... until she tried to slate her addiction a bit too close to North Cliff, and found that her prey of pirates (though wealthy) weren't so easily killed.
Taken as a slave at thirteen, Canna did all that she could to rebel, but the pirates would have none of it, and at the age of fourteen, she gave her attempts a rest. She was purchased, then, by Alegrarsean nobility to be a wife to their much younger prince once he had come of age, but her training did not go well. Playful nature restored with vigor, she made her tutors lives hell until Xanthe appeared at the age of fifteen, and she discovered a properly lady-like way to use her talents.Appearance:
Although she had always believed that she was tall for her age, Canna is among the smallest of the priestesses. A petite girl with a flowing blonde mane that rarely (if ever) finds itself properly cared for, Canna is said to represent the wilderness of femininity... which isn't precisely far from the truth, even when dressed in her much despised priestess robes. She wears the same gloves as the other priestesses, though unlike them, her claws are normally unfurled and ready for action-- a fact which has led it wise to dress her in a robe that she could come close to swimming in should she undo the belt. All the same, her skin is the perfectly tanned bronze of a desert woman, her lashes pale and long over exotically rounded blue eyes.Personality:
Canna is addicted to tricks and the bloodshed that comes with them. She'll do literally anything it takes to slate that addiction, which is the primary reason she is so happy to find herself among the ranks of the priestesses-- for though they appear to be innocently guiding hands among the people of Alegrarse, all too often must the spikes beneath the fluff be revealed under Xanthe's regime. A young woman that quite enjoys her job, Canna is often seen smiling, giggling, or leaping, though this may be undermined by calculated precision should the nature of her target call for it.Theme Song: Sticks and Stones
-- The Pierces
The most beautiful daughter of a fisherman, Len never really had a lot more than her beauty to boast. Before her life as a concubine, she could not read, she could not fish, she could barely even sew-- but once she found herself in the vast city of Alegrarse, eldest concubine and wife to the eldest priest, her entire life changed. Despite her own moral qualms, Len very much enjoyed being the concubine that she was, adjusting her own persona to match that which was expected of her, and surviving in the only way that she had available to her. When that way of life was taken from her, her world was shattered for a short amount of time... until she realized what it meant.
Len had taken everything she could from the experience of being a concubine. She knew the ways of politics, of education, of being a lady and all of the disgusting things involved. Being a priestess meant expanding her repetior even further, and though at first she was doubtful of her abilities as a fighter or any sort of religious figure (even a simple mockery of one), she's become quite taken with it all.Appearance:
Most of Len, aside from her face, can mostly be considered average. She isn't particularly tall, or particularly slender-- but what she is, is particularly perfected. Her makeup is always flawless, her ebony hair always in tight ringlets that spill over her face and shoulders. She moves with all of the fluid grace expected from a concubine, robes perfectly tailored to accentuate the movements.Personality:
Len is calm, collected, and deliberate. She'll take anything she can from any circumstances that she can, half obsessed with bettering herself in any way possible though she doesn't have any particular goal for the person that she is becoming. One can only assume she'll figure that part out once she's capable of achieving it. Often times, Len is seen as the mother of the priestesses, guiding them in small things much the way Malaya guides them on larger things, comforting them when their lives grow hard for them to handle, though she lacks the fierce protectiveness one would normally find in such a mother. The other priestesses are merely her companions, and are of no use to anyone if they are broken.Theme Song: Transylvanian Concubine
Devan has never been what one would call "Sane" with any real precision. The daughter of a market vendor, her father was only too happy to let her go when a young prince came in to his life and offered him more money than he could count for the woman. Of course, Devan couldn't have been happier either. Convinced that she was wrapped up in a Cinderella story, Devan fell madly in love with her new owner and basically anything he said, throwing herself in to the vigors of being a concubine with everything in her being.
Of course, one would think, then, that the death of her "perfect" husband would have devastated her... which, for a very short amount of time it did... but one would otherwise be entirely mistaken. To the contrary, the night of her husband's death, Devan had a dream that the man came to her, told her that he would always be by her side, and that she must fight along side the other concubines just as she always had. The training of being a concubine awakened her instincts as a psychic, but Devan firmly believes that these abilities come not from herself, but from the soul of her husband, which will some day come back and stand beside her again.Appearance:
Devan is a glorified version of your basic desert woman. Skin the color of brushed bronze, copper shoulder length hair, and deep brown eyes, the priestess stands at even height with Malaya. Adorned in her priestess robes even when it is unnecessary, metal gloves pressed against her skin even when asleep, there is no stopping point between where "Priestess" ends and "Devan" begins.Personality:
Wildly delusional, Devan throws everything that she is in to every order that she is given at all times. At night, Devan can often be found somewhere a fair distance from the rest of the concubines, sparring with anyone who happens to be awake, and during the day, Devan appears to be nothing more than a shell for her priestly duties. Despite this disassociation, the only time her true insanity reveals itself is in the midsts of a battle, where she moves almost as though there is someone guarding her back, and only compensates for the opening when it is necessary, often claiming that the gesture was performed by her dead husband. Sometimes, very rarely, she can be heard talking to the man in her sleep.Theme Song: Energize Me
-- After Forever
One of the few priestesses that first became a concubine voluntarily, Kali was at one point a noblewoman of Alegrarse. Having fallen in love with one of the princes, Kali left her life of relative luxury for a life of servitude to him, under promises of wealth and love and happiness. Needless to say, being a concubine was none of these things, and Kali grew bitter quite quickly, to a point of attempting to poison her lying husband. In fact, she had perfected her cocktail the very day that Xanthe arrived and saved her the trouble.
She was the concubine to be offered to Archivad as a gift of good faith, and had taken the wound to her face. Although she understood the gesture and the importance of it, she also never quite recovered from it. Faith placed in Xanthe only in order to join her sisters, Kali doesn't believe in much of anything-- much less the good wishes of the military, it's leaders, or the would be peacekeepers of government appointment. This is why she acts as the priestess she has been nominated, regardless of her disdain; for if she can have faith in no one, she can have faith in herself.Appearance:
Kali was once beautiful. The perfect structure of her face, shape of her eyes, curve of her lips had once been the subject of envy by many, but Archivad put an end to that. A ragged scar now deforms the curve of her cheek in to ripples, pulls the corner of her left eye tauter than it should be. She covers it with her flowing blond hair as often as possible, but the reminder never leaves her. She wears the same priestess robes as all the others, but unlike them, she keeps her hood up at nearly all times, shrouding her face and piercing green eyes in shadow until such time has come as to strike.Personality:
Kali is often regarded as The Priestesses Claw. Her rage is endless, and so too is her cruelty when it is unleashed. She lacks all of the gentleness that the other priestesses carry, opting instead toward the sadistic, lacing bits and pieces of memories in to her actions and letting them fuel her in to a calculated, bloody frenzy. Rarely if ever does she speak; particularly in the presence of anything with something that dangles between her legs, unless defining problem is shortly to be remedied. To her sisters, she will speak only very shortly. The only loyalty she holds still is to the Alegrarsean people, but even then, if she can't fix their problems with an act of violence, she will do nothing.Theme Song: Liar (Murder Mix)
--Emilie Autumn (Remixed by Brendon Small)
The daughter of a pirate, Jara was never really all that fond of rules... seeing as there weren't any for the majority of her life. For most of her life, Jara did exactly what she wanted, when she wanted to do it, and nothing was available to stop her... until Alegrarsean nobility came to take away her confidant, and best friend. She followed Canna in to the city, mostly unnoticed until it came time to enter the temple, when she was found, and made in to a concubine beside the girl.
Even still, Jara didn't follow many of the rules, right beside Canna in her mischief, and when Xanthe came she found herself in adoration of a woman that represented everything that Jara had ever wanted to be. Eagerly, this time, Jara entered her training.Appearance:
Although she wears the priestess robes assigned to her, Jara doesn't exactly prescribe to the set appearance deigned appropriate for her. Under her robes she wears a (stolen) pair of deep blue slacks, and binds her breasts with medical tape, kohling her brown eyes heavily whenever she gets the chance, and keeping her auburn hair in braids, ponytails, and whatever else can keep it out of the way quickly. Tall for her age, and not necessarily what one would call "slender" so much as they would call it "Muscular", Jara has a tendency to stand out even when she's not supposed to, and boasts more facial piercings than she can be commanded to remove in a single day.Personality:
Jara finds the doctrines of the priestess life to be tedious, boring, and well beside the point, often exploding in bursts of violence for no apparent reason except that she is bored. Despite her adoration for her queen and her ideals, she simply can't resist the call of rebellion, and will follow it in any direction it should lead her-- be that direction be in the way of facial piercings, unorthodox methods of fighting, or the death of a young man who looked at her the wrong way for just long enough to piss her off. The way she sees it, nothing ever gets accomplished by following the rules, and the only reason she follows the rules of the new Regent is because they go against everyone elses rules.Theme Song: Outrage
-- Sister Sin
The Aesir took Ardania many years back, when Nyela was but a young woman, and her family moved to Kerlock in an effort to escape the termoil of change. The effort, she could have told them even then, would be for naught; for in Alegrarse, money rules everything, and they had none. Of course, then, it came as no surprise when her parents were barely scraping by with what little that they had, and it fell to Nyela to do something about it. Without much in the way of skills, the woman instead appealed to the princes of Alegrarse, seducing one with a great deal of effort, and lifting her parents from the thralls of poverty with her wedding.
Life as a concubine was simply what it was. It wasn't exactly her favorite thing in the world, but it wasn't agony either. All the same, it grew tedious day after day, family growing more distant by the day until they led their lives and she led hers, separate from everything she had truly enjoyed. She wasn't miserable when Xanthe came, and she wasn't miserable afterwards either. Appearance:
A young woman of gentle stature, Nyela's greeb eyes carry the sense that they can see straight through you should she care to look, despite the apparent indifference on their surface. Her chestnut hair falls straight over her shoulders and to her waist, almost making the priestess robes she wears seem stark in comparison to her placidly calm face.Personality:
Nyela has never been one for the extremes of emotions. Yeah, she's bitter. Yeah, she's angry, but that's just the way life goes. She sees no real point in swearing allegiance to anything, or fighting for anything, but she does it anyway simply because it's what's expected of her, and if there's ever been anything she was good at... it was doing what she was expected to do. The one thing she dislikes is the Aesir. Blaming them for taking what life she may have had in Galam away from her, she would like to take revenge, but much like everything else, she's mostly indifferent. It's hard to tell where the wrath that leads her in battle comes from, but it does come, in the form of pure fury that brings to life an otherwise deadened spirit. Perhaps it's simply because she doesn't like people, or maybe she's just not quite as indifferent as she wants to be.Theme Song: Remedy
For most of her life, Flare was what many would consider a gypsi, namely one of the entertainment variety. While her mother was reading cards and giving out vague premonitions that always seemed to come true, Flare was outside of the tent, eating fire and spitting it at people she didn't like. As she grew older, she found herself more acclimated toward the more graceful of arts, but never did Flare grow tired of her namesake: Fire.
During a tour through Alegrarse, Flare was sold to a prince as tax for the time spent there, and she continued her training there despite her distinct differences from the other concubines. Very little changed for her, once the change of regimes took place, except for the fact that she was actually allowed to play with the explosives she loves so very much.Appearance:
A particularly short girl when compared to her peers, Flare is nevertheless as attractive as one would presume for someone who had chosen to be a concubine. A shapely bust and set of hips leads in to a slender waist, and haphazardly curled chestnut hair that cuts short at her ears. Exotically large lips twist in to a nearly constant, deranged smile, wide eyes glittering as she giggles and the fire glints off brown irises, giving them the illusion of being red.Personality:
It's easy to see Flare as the catalyst of all things that could possibly go wrong, especially if one were to talk to her for all of three seconds and discover the purely maniacal delight that follows the fire in her eyes, but truth be told, as much as she enjoys catastrophy, devastation, and the pretty glitter of embers; she's unlikely to act seriously unless she has first been led by another to do so. Destruction may very well be her very favorite thing in the world, but following shortly in her list is story telling... and thus many of her exploits have been hugely exaggerated by countless retellings. It is, however, important to remember that however exaggerated her tales may be... none of them border beyond the scope of realistic intention.Theme Song: Such Horrible Things
-- Creature Feature
Once upon a time, Cera was just another girl, just like many of her priestess companions... the difference being that she was much older when she found herself in the life of a concubine. She was but a child when the demons descended upon Tristan, and but a child when she was whisked away by the mercenaries that cared for her but never let her hold a sword of her own until she was fourteen years of age. Even then, it was only because they had no choice... they had been wiped out by another band of mercenaries.
She did not become a concubine without fighting back, but when one is overpowered, it's hard to say no. Shortly afterwards came Xanthe, the warrior queen that followed all of the things that Cera had grown to regard as her only saving grace. Things only get better through violence, after all.Appearance:
A slim, muscular woman, Cera doesn't seem at first to follow the concubine stereotypes, especially given the scars that mar the majority of once perfect skin, but there is a light within her that seems almost captivating when she is lit to anger (Something which is very easily done). With red hair cut short, a style loosely based off of one that many men wear, her deep brown eyes burn at all times with something that may be determination... but is much more likely to be madness.Personality:
Much like Kali's addiction to cruelty, Cera is addicted to warfare. It isn't that she particularly enjoys the bloodshed, or even that she's particularly angry... it's simply that battle is the only thing that can bring her mind to peace. All of her life has been driven by the deaths of others, gradually getting easier to handle with each battleground, and it is this subconscious connection that drives her to nearly everything.Theme Song: Count Bodies Like Sheep
-- A Perfect Circle
Illiandra was moved to Alegrarse during infancy, promised then to an infant prince and raised to understand this fact. She couldn't say her life was completely enjoyable, but she didn't particularly mind it either. When this was stripped from her, however, she found an entirely new world before her, one that she was eager to explore.
Particularly fascinating, much like the other priestesses, did she find her new Queen. The woman seemed to feel so alone, yet as Illiandra looked around, she found countless eyes turning in her direction for answers, answers that never went unfound. The night Alegrarse was attacked by some manner of dark magic was the night that Illiandra swore her true allegiance to the woman, and to her people.Appearance:
Illiandra was destined from birth to be beautiful. With cascading silken blonde hair that falls to her thin waist, and bright blue eyes, she is very nearly the picture of perfection, long legs moving with priceless grace.Personality:
A creature full of love and adoration, Illiandra never wanted to be anything but what was expected of her until she was given the chance to become so much more. The very thought of it is captivating for her, and she strives toward it, to be something not like Xanthe-- but rather a part of her, and a part of the society of priestesses. Even if she is but a single vein in a single wing, she feels like a vital part of something amazing, and she revels in that feeling.Dragonfly
Sophia's life has never been a particularly easy one. Her mother dead in childbirth, her father low on funds of any kind, they moved around a lot during the years that she cannot remember, and then some more after memories begin their fruition, leaving her very little of any substance to hold on to from those years. When she was fifteen, her father died, and knowing little else to do, Sophia kept moving in search of nothing.
She became a concubine at the end of the road, at the age of eighteen. So far as she can tell, nothing much has changed under Xanthe's rule, though she sees the women around her reeling in their mixed opinions of her. So far as she can tell, she's still nothing more than another faceless warrior, perhaps of a different type from before. Appearance:
A woman of medium height with ashen blonde hair that falls just a bit below her shoulders, Sophia is beautiful if not stunning, though her blue eyes are nearly always devoid of emotion, and seem to simply stare before her as though nothing matters, even in the heat of battle.Personality:
Sophia is nothing more than a shell of a woman. She gave up on being anything a long time ago, and now simply acts as she is told, with no pride or sense of self to get in her way. Now and then she is stricken by a moment of pain, of remembrance of what dreams she once had had, but those moments are short and rare. After all, she doesn't even have a home.Theme Song: Paradise
-- Vanessa Carlton
An only child of a knight, Harley was never really what one would call "Feminine" until she was promoted to "Concubine", but even then she couldn't much enjoy the pampering, the dresses, the objectification. At first, she attempted to become friends with her prince, but quickly found this to be an impossible goal, as there was only thing that a concubine was good for, and she simply had no interest in it.
All of that changed the moment she saw Xanthe in action, however. Seeing a woman stand up to a man-- and even go so far as to look -down- upon him-- woke something inside of Harley that she has never been able to put her finger on.Appearance:
A young woman with infinite clumsiness and next to no grace (aside from the battle field), Harley can most often be found with a goofy smile plastered on to her oval face, or a skeptical glint shimmering in her hazel eyes. Though once she boasted the longest hair in the harem, Harley has chopped it all off, leaving the sunstreaked locks in a similar style to Xanthe's.Personality:
Harley's a strong spirit. Despite the hardships that she's been through, she meets her obstacles with a gritted determination that far overshadows any tears she may have shed in it's precursor. Her goofy laugh is damn close to contagious, but aside from those attributes, there isn't much that's overly attractive about her. She's close to the opposite of feminine, and always has been; making interaction with other females particularly taxing, but still she tries out of careful optimism, never bartering more of herself than a moments concentration, except in the case of Xanthe, whom she follows much the way a puppy might.Theme Song: Guns And Horses
Her mother was a whore. No one knew who her father was, and it never mattered. Her mom didn't want him around, didn't want anything else... why should Danaera? And so it began, a life of prostitution and rum, one without much in the way of pride though the young woman found it somewhere, and once she was at the very top of her game, she continued her ambitions repeatedly further. She slept with higher and higher ups, until finally she found the mark she was looking for-- an Alegrarsean nobleman who suggested her to the princes.
Who she belonged to was debatable at best, but she didn't mind. She got the gowns, the money, the fruit, and everything she ever wanted. Even when Xanthe took the thrown, and sex was taken out of the equation altogether, Danaera remained happy. -She- wasn't the one that lost anything, after all.Appearance:
Something about her suggests that Danaera is nowhere near as attractive as she seems, but it's hard to look past the unhumanly thin waist (Tight-laced corsets be praised) or passion in her gaze. Her wavy, well kept hair has been dyed as many times as Redemption has revolved around the sun, but seems to have settled with a nice cherry color that makes her smooth pale skin seem even smoother, and the darkness of her long lashes seem even darker.Personality:
Danaera's no where near as happy as she seems to be, either. While, yes, her methods got her everything that she wanted... she lost a part of herself along the way, and is in a nearly constant search for that part, throwing herself in to meaningless violence at every opportunity and looking at any whore or male that she may come across as a part of the reason she is no longer whole. She couldn't give a shit less about the cause she's fighting for, but the fact remains that she's fighting. Fighting everything.Themesong: Angels Fuck
-- Jack off Jill