Kreilla

[Kreilla]

Player Name: Mika
Character Name: Kreilla
Age: 30 (apparent 15)
Race: Half-Dwarf
Height: 4’11”
Weight: about 175 lbs. (due to increased bone mass)
Physical Description:

Kreilla is a short girl, but stocky in build. Her arms are a bit too long, legs a bit too short, and shoulders a bit too wide, an inheritance form her father, as are her icy blue eyes. Her hair is a mixture of both her parents—dull red with blond streaks running through its length, thick and curly, nearly unmanageable. Though just past her 30th birthday, she seems to be a young woman of only 15 years. Her left hand has a small tattoo of two lilies intertwined on top of her ring finger, very light in color. Her right hand has a scar of the burn her father’s signet ring in the middle of her palm. Her right arm is encircled with tattoos just a few shades darker than her skin tone, warrior-like with axes, swords, and other weapons represented in broad lines and artistic simplicity. Her back sports the same type of tattoo, but from the weapon flies three butterflies the sweep up the right side of her back, with four small ones across her shoulder blades. The same butterflies appear down the back of her right leg, four of them drifting down to her inner thigh. Besides tattoos, she is a fan of body piercing: three in each ear and one in her navel further decorate her body.

When in the setting of the brothel, Kreilla is found uncomfortable, not frowning but not often smiling. She detests lace, and prefers silk or fur and leather. Her hair is pulled back but rages in uncontrollable curls. She is set apart by her body, but never tries to attract attention unless needed. When needed, however, she changes dramatically, using her toned body to its fullest extent, and a dark smile finally comes out. On the streets, she is a different girl. Self-confident of her abilities and feeling less judged for her body, she often has a small smile or smirk on her face. Often her anger rises up, her temper that of any other redhead, and she doesn’t shy away from fights. Thus it is not uncommon to see a few bruises or scrapes on her body, though usually these are on her fists.

Possessions:

Kreilla owns very little in this world. Next to her clothing and jewelry, in her backpack she has a comb, a small mirror, a small stick of lip color, a pair of dice, a pack of cards, her father’s knife (when she isn’t carrying it on her hip), and a vial of tansy oil, which is a form of birth control. She owns two pairs of shoes: her usual black boots, and a pair of tan colored sandals, both with three inch solid heels. She left most of her brothel clothing behind, but carries with her a very slinky black shirt which has such a loose neck that it can be worn to show nearly all the back, or nearly all the front, which can accompany either pair of britches she acquired for when she lived on the streets, one of which is black, the other, tan. She also had a tight black shirt that covers her properly, with a reversible tan or black vest with useful small pockets. A tie-on skirt of the same slinky material as the first shirt can be worn with or without the pants. A black cloak that doubles for a blanket on cold nights finishes off her line of clothing. Her jewelry is simple: a silver chain for her neck, and several hoop-style earrings, most hardly matching other than their silver composition. Three small pouches in her backpack, and one in her boot, divide her wealth equally, currently consisting of 24 bishan.

Powers or Strengths:

Magic: Her Dwarven heritage makes magic harder for her than it would have been otherwise, but she has accessed the beginnings of the power of seduction. Entwined in a small tattoo on the ring finger of her left hand, concentrating on the tattoo allows her to put forth an aura that distracts those around her from their true feelings, lulling them slowly into good feelings towards her, tinged by lust. Rubbing the tattoo helps her to concentrate on it. She also can feel the essence of metals and gems—part of her Dwarven heritage. Her focus for this magic is the scar in her right palm from her father’s signet ring. It takes between one to five minutes usually for accurate results, and she can identify only major gems and metals.

Skills: Years on the streets have taught her how to pickpocket, and she has experience in stealing from buildings as well as mugging. She was “trained” at the brothel as well. She knows a little of her letters and such, but cannot read well to any degree. She’s learned how to street fight using her fists, and more recently, with knives. She can throw small stones fairly accurately. She tends to be god at most things she tries, but hasn’t been able to develop anything to a level of excellence.

Abilities: She has the strength of Dwarves in her blood, and if just now developing it. She’s lean but muscular, and more flexible than most Dwarves could get, due to her mother’s side. She’s intelligent, but not wise. She has a natural urge and talent for things of her Dwarven heritage: weapons, stone/clay, and drinking. Only her drinking has developed—at her young age she can drink most men under the table. From her mother’s side she has a bit of charm and grace, but not much. She has an ear for music, and her rough voice turns into a bird’s when she sings, which is not often.

Knowledge: She knows the layout of the city quite well, and quite a few of the older thieves and ex-thieves, though not close to many. Though unable to read well, she knows her letters and numbers, and given enough time, can usually figure out a short bit of writing, such as signs and short notices. Other connections she has include the brothel staff, the various taverns’ staffs, and some of the guards, though not usually positive connections.

Weaknesses: She is extremely self-conscious about her looks and her upbringing, to the point of rage. In some circles it is known that she killed a full-grown man while she was still a child, and so some amount of fear and disgust follow her around. Her magic is stifled by her Dwarven heritage, though not impossible. She lacks the skill to communicate clearly, and she most often finds it easier to say yes than no, which has lead her and will lead her into worlds of trouble.

History:

Kreilla’s mother was a beautiful woman, tall and elegant with smooth pale skin, golden tresses, and the prettiest dresses. She was the daughter of a military man gone mercenary. When widowed, he sold his daughter to an older man as a virgin bride. The virgin bride ran away, and ended up using the only talents a young girl had: she began working in a brothel. Innocence shattered, the young woman, Yeillenna, eventually gave birth to three daughters over her life, all to the men whose bishan she took. Kreilla was the first-born, healthy and strong, with flaming red hair right out the womb. She lay in her cradle in the corner of the room while her mother did business, a quiet, well-behaved baby. Three years later she was given a sister, Luzille, a perfect blond angel. By this time, Kreilla’s development was already noticeably slow, and the women of the brothel convinced Yeillenna that Kreilla was retarded. A kind woman, she could not bear to let anything happen to the girl, but inevitably what attentions Yeillenna could spare went to Luzille, instead. Shaillanna, a dark beauty with shining black hair, was born five years later. Luzille had already learned how to entertain clients at age five with dances and songs, but Kreilla at age eight, neglected for years, could hardly even speak. She was only ten when she first ran away.

Kreilla grew into a bitter young girl, watching her sisters grew more beautiful every year, adoration falling to them… she was an outcast, within the family as well as the larger family of the brothel. She eventually learned how to speak and everything else a young girl ought to learn, but most of her time was either spent alone or on the streets. It was beginning to be obvious she was not simply a retarded Human, but something else altogether, but it was not until a familiar face returned to the city that Yeillenna figured out her mistake, for it had been 18 years ago when she had her first Dwaven client. Greffor was a mercenary, and he was traveling through with a small company of men, who happened to stop for a night of entertainment. Recognizing Kreilla as possibly his own, he spent a night with her filling her head with grant stories of adventure and what it meant to be a Dwarf, before disappearing the next day with a vague promise of returning. She knew that this was her father, though—one look at his flaming red beard and icy blue eyes clinched the deal. That night he was a blessing, but the next day she cursed him for his disappearance, and cried for the full next week.

Kreilla continued with her rough life, sleeping during the day like the other ladies at the brothel, but spending her nights on the streets. She hung out with other children, and sometimes teenagers, learning to pick pockets and steal from businesses, and on occasion, houses. As she grew older in her own slow way, her friends outgrew her and moved on to more dangerous crimes and into more organized groups; she was hardly ever included, however. And so even this, her third chance at family, seemed to fail her. Resigning herself back to her blood, at age 23 she finally allowed her mother to start “training” her in the only thing her mother knew. Though not the beauty her mother was, Kreilla held a strange beauty of her own; wild and dark of heart, she was strong and fit from years of hard living, and she learned to cross her arms to draw attention away from their length, and to use her body to take advantage of the clients, though her body was still not quite mature. Yeillenna began to teach her something that she had taught her sisters already, and was surprised when Kreilla took to it—the power of seduction. Not just the craft, or the art, but the true power, something beyond the body and mind. Kreilla had a difficult time with it, however—another gift of her father. Finally they found a solution. Kreilla, already sporting several tattoos, got a small tattoo of two lilies entwining on top of her left ring finger. Yeillenna told her it was magical, though whether it really was or wasn’t, Kreilla wasn’t sure. In either case, by focusing on the tattoo, Kreilla could bend her mind into the magic. The magic helped her greatly, and her new knowledge of making herself look less freakish (in her eyes, anyways) and gave her new confidence.

But then Luzille had an encounter. The man was drunk and stupid, and very strong. Kreilla’s heart shattered when her sister’s scream pierced the night air, and she raced to the room faster than any of the guards. It was in that room that she encountered a new side of herself. Twenty-four now, finally coming into the strength of her heritage, she peeled the huge man off her sister easily, rage blinding her, blood pumping in her ears. The man was dead before help arrived, but then so was her sister. Luzille’s neck had been broken. So had his. Kreilla had finally started to get close to her sisters, and accept this way of life, but now she had a murder on her head and nightmares of a beautiful young woman, her sister and her mother’s mirror image, laying in a fancy dress torn open, staring at the ceiling. Though acquitted of her crime, the mark of it forced her back to the streets again.

Now with no place to sleep safely, she was truly on her own. She used everything she lad learned over her life to survive, until months later a familiar Dwarf finally returned. This time he took her out into the wilderness and they lived for a few months on nature’s bounty. He taught her how to fight, and gave her a knife, his own first knife, he claimed. Before he left, he gave her a gift similar to her mother’s gift—he burned his signet ring into her right hand, making a different sort of tattoo for her to focus on, while fighting, to give her the strength and courage of the Dwarves, rather than the fears and insecurities of the Humans. He also taught her a “talent” for sensing the true element of metals and stones. Returning her to the city, he left once more. She begged him to let her go with him, but her father told her that she couldn’t—he was off to another campaign, and it was far too dangerous. Better she faced dangers she knew than risk those she did not, in his opinion.

Survive she did, finally finding a niche for herself, growing dark again in nature and in spirit. Her group consisted of teenage Humans, boys and girls who were angry with their lives, old enough to do damage but immature enough to be very stupid about it. Her true age gave her more perspective, however, and finally she returned back to the brothel, counting on the shorter memories of Humans. The brothel had changed, become more elegant. A different owner, he seemed to want parties all the time, with glitter and lights… she couldn’t handle it, not for too long. She tried, though, and made enough money to see her through for a while before setting off once more, determined not to return to the life of her mother and sisters.

Her story begins as she’s trying to carve a new niche for herself, away from the life she had been leading thus far. She hopes to leave the brothel behind, for fear of ended up as her sister. She hopes to leave the thieving behind… or else drastically advance in it. Preferably, she wants to find a respectable job she could work in, and rectify the stains on her name.