Jump to content



Approved WT bio for Rossa - FL CC'd Chuckakhan Chuckakhan!!


Recommended Posts

Handle: Wintermist


Name: Rossa Venye

Age: 14

Group: White Tower

From: The outlaying district of Ebou Dar, Altara

Height: 5’ 7â€

Weight: 141 lbs

Hair: Dark Brown, worn long

Eyes: Dark Brown




Heat. Intense heat. The air closed in around her, tasting foul and acrid and causing her to gag and choke. All her life she had known to watch her back, but Rossa had thought the family home to be invulnerable, the main attempts from those dabbling in the Great Game would take place at Court, or so her mother and father had told her. The High Seats of House Venye had told all of their progeny to be careful at all times lest they find themselves in a duel to protect the honour of their House, but Rossa had always believed if she was ever forced to defend herself, or to fight for her life, it would be face to face with an enemy, not like this. Her throat constricted and her lungs burnt with the hot air and smoky fumes from her burning surroundings. It hurt to open her eyes, but when she did and looked around the hidden walls of her bedchamber, it was a darkened blur of flames and burnt patches of wood and stone. She had to get out. Fast.


Her mother and father had surely been ushered to safety already, as well as her brother and two sisters. Why no one had come back for her, Rossa did not know, but they would be looking for her soon. I have to get out of here though, before I burn to death, or suffocate. Not a pleasant thought. Always she had been the less preferred daughter, the middle daughter and not shining like her beautiful sisters and brother. Her siblings had shone like the proverbial sun; outstripping her at everything they did in their parents’ eyes and leaving the averagely looking and able Rossa standing firmly in their shadow, out of favour and suffering from melancholia most of the time. It lent an uncharacteristic seriousness and quietude to her face that had only deepened as the years had passed, but had not lessened how her mind worked one iota. Pushing hazy reminiscences of her youth to one side, Rossa concentrated on pulling open the doors standing between her and getting some clean air into her seared lungs.


Bits of the house were falling down around her, the flames consuming furniture and floors alike. It was difficult to find the way towards the front door of their modest abode, but somehow she managed to, dodging a falling timber from the ceiling as House Venye started to crash around her ears. Crackling. There was nothing but smoke, crackling and intense heat. Her lungs screamed for clean air, burning as the thick, noxious fug started to make her light-headed and faint. That would be dangerous. She had to get free!


Pushing at the heavy double doors that stood between her and her life, Rossa choked once more, almost unable to undo the catch that held them in place. Servants would once have opened now restrained her in her kiln-like tomb, unless she could free the catch. They were all gone to the villages, or the flames, safe, lost or paid off at the hands of one of their rivals. Snick it came free and a crack of light appeared, blissful, and blessed light and the scent of comparatively fresh air from outside. She pushed at it, with most of her remaining strength and fell outside, her legs ceasing to work and she landed on the stone steps, gasping and retching.


Moments turned to minutes as Rossa’s breathing stabilised enough to attempt opening her eyes. The heat roared behind her, and her face was a smeared mess of tears and soot. Large rips decorated her clothing and she looked as though she had lost a fight with some wild animal, but she had to get help. Fetch someone to help see if her family had survived and to help put out the fire in case of the risk to the surrounding countryside. Pushing herself to her knees, Rossa set off on unsteady legs towards the small hamlet over a mile away on the horizon.


The town was the kind of nondescript village that had one of everything. One inn, one stable, one peddler and blacksmith, the usual sorts of trades but a lot less polished than found in the cities. Everything could be found for a decent price, and the work was of good quality if you knew how to bargain shrewdly. Rossa made her way towards the inn, thinking that the most people would be there at this time of day and they would be able to help put out the raging inferno of her family home - if they did not already know. Tiredly, she continued to the doors of the tavern proclaiming “The Labourer’s Rest†and a swinging sign portraying a builder leaning wearily on his pickaxe, and crossed the threshold, the air thick with laughter and tabac. It was too much. The remembered smell of the smoke and how close to death she had been was renewed with the smell of the smoke in the tavern and she started coughing, her throat closing again, and her eyes rolled up in her head, blackness claiming her.


Faint sounds of birdsong drifted through the window in a muted tone alongside hushed whispers and oversensitive fingertips made up for the lassitude, spreading out throughout her entire body. Her chest no longer seemed to burn when she breathed, and the cuts and scrapes she had unknowingly suffered in her flight from the house had all gone. Eyelids opened. White light from the window gradually changed to the interior of one of the rooms of the inn as her eyes grew accustomed to the change in light and slowly focussed on the form of a woman dressed in fine silks sat to one side of her bed.


“How are you feeling?†The voice was soft, and light with hints of an accent Rossa could not place.


“My family…â€


“Your family did not survive, I’m afraid. You are lucky to be alive, child.â€


Shock did not even begin to register as her deepest fears were confirmed. Light! Alone in the world without purpose… no, she did have purpose. Rossa knew she would have to find those responsible for her family’s demise and make sure they knew the line of House Venye was as strong as ever. There was something… familiar… about the face of the woman sat in the room with her – Rossa could not place an age to the serene face and yet she knew from the times she had gone to the Tarasin Palace as a girl of the wondrous sisters of the White Tower. Pieces of a forming plan clicked into place and she vowed to be tested there – they may be able to help her if nothing else.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 4 years later...
  • Create New...