Bio for Ivy, daughter of Flora, daughter of Mari
Player: Winter Mist
Height: 6’ 7”
Weight: It is rude to ask a lady, you know
Eyes: large and brown, and very peaceful
Hair: chestnut brown, and always decked with whatever flowers she can find
Weapon of choice: she is a pacifist, but carries a sling and a pouch of stones with which she is rather proficient.
Personality: Ivy is very quiet and determined. Her personality is at odds with that of most of the Ogier females that would rule the males in the Stedding and leave them in their domestic care to ensure they do not come to grief. She believes in freedom and is therefore is somewhat of a dreamer. She loves nature and flowers, and knows a great deal about herb lore.
Appearance: Her face is round and cheerful looking, with a sense of peace and contentment behind her nut-brown eyes. She wears her hair in a bun made by wrapping a braid around itself and strands of her fringe frame her face. Her long eyelashes brush her cheeks and she is prone to smiling at the slightest little things. Short for an Ogier, she makes up for it with her smile, and many have called her “quite disarming”.
History: As a little Ogier, Ivy, daughter of Flora, daughter of Mari would sit for hours listening to her father going on about life outside the Stedding walls. She would sit, entranced, while her beloved papa would talk of the people he had met on such and such a trip. Ivy’s father was a builder, one of the great stonemasons that had put their heart and craft into the buildings of some great city or other. Little Ivy loved to hear the tales of the humans. She turned her nose up at the politics and frowned at the wars, but when her father made mention to a wedding of note, or some tale with a romantic twist, Ivy’s large, round eyes would light up like the sunset.
Her mother would look on bemusedly. As long as Ivy was not getting any notions about leaving the Stedding looking for adventure, then Flora had no objections to the tales. And throughout Ivy’s first few decades of life, she kept listening to the stories, not wanting to leave the Stedding and hoping her father would continue to regale her with tales of the outside.
In addition to her usual lessons, Ivy showed an interest in the plants and flowers that grew all around them. After listening to the romances, she would borrow one of the books on local flora and lay carefully collected samples from around the Stedding on her bed. She would try to identify them, storing their names to memory before pressing them between available blank pages so they would keep longer. Ivy learnt about the different uses for various bits of various plants and, under her mother’s careful supervision, she began to make rudimentary cures. Willowbark, she discovered, was sovereign for headaches, and began to keep her own book of notes on the subject.
Her life became less peaceful just after her ninety-seventh birthday. A party of travellers came to Stedding Shangtai, and among them was another Ogier. Flora must have taken note of how her daughter always seemed to be looking at the newly arrived Ogier, and contrived for Ivy to be present wherever he was. Ivy did not notice her mother’s machinations but appreciated being in Jeran’s proximity. Jeran. When Ivy said the name to herself, it was romantic and special. She made him a necklace of daisies and placed it around his neck, serving him drinks and food while her mother contemplated making arrangements for a betrothal.
After an unseemly short stay, a scant few weeks in total, Jeran and the rest of his party left the peace and tranquillity of Stedding Shangtai. Ivy was inconsolable. She had thought he would stay with her, forever, just like in the stories, but no. He had gone, left to find whatever it was he was searching for. Moping in her room, Ivy looked through the flowers remaining and put them into her satchel, along with her book of notes on plants and their uses, and went to her mother.
“Mother, what was Jeran’s party going to search for?”
Her mother’s short answer left Ivy speechless. She had heard the war that was raging, but was not sure she wanted to follow someone intent on investigating that. Still, Ivy wanted to follow Jeran, and the Aiel might know about some strange plants. “But Mother…” Ivy began, looking up through eyelashes that brushed her cheeks “surely there is something I could do to help. I know lots about herb and plant lore.” Flora shook her head, effectively ending the conversation.
“Do not by hasty, Ivy, by putting a long handle on your axe. I know you are interested in Jeran as a companion and, knowing that look in your eyes, as a mate, but there is more to your life than risking your neck in a hasty quest.”
A light, the light of cunning, appeared in Ivy’s eyes. “Would you allow me to go on a short trip outside the Stedding to research plants and flowers when I have come of age, my Mother?” The years to wait would be a bind, but she would not forget Jeran’s look or his cause. Flora nodded, adding that there were some rare species of plant to the north. Ivy smiled. The party had left in that direction and there was no doubt that her mother suspected Ivy’s intent. “Just come home safe and do not involve yourself too much with the affairs of humans” her mother admonished. Ivy nodded and curtsied to Flora and went to her room to ready her belongings. She would pack and repack every day until she was officially considered an adult, and on that day she would leave the Stedding and head to look for Jeran.
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