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Falling Stars Tribe

2019-07-23T17:44:09Z

Anstarra: More history, Starsfall

{{speculation}}

Please note: This page is a Work In Progress based off the template used by the Coeurl Tribe

The '''Falling Stars Tribe''', an off-shoot of the [[:Category: Miqo'te Seeker of the Sun|Seekers of the Sun]] sub-race of [[Miqo'te]], are a historically insular tribe located in the tundra to the northeast of [[Coerthas]], in the lee of the mountains of [[Xelphatol]]. Until a few Turns ago, very few knew of the tribe's existence, but in recent times due to the expansionist ambitions of their now-deceased Nunh, they came into conflict with the city-states of [[Eorzea]]. Now, a peace has been established, and the once-xenophobic Falling Stars have taken an exploratory interest in the world beyond their borders.

{| style= "width: 200px; height: 200px; float: right;" border="1"
| '''Race''' : [[Miqo'te]]
| '''Clan''' : Seekers of the Sun
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Population''' : ~400
| '''Number of Septs''' : 3
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Religion''' : [[Azeyma, the Warden]]; the Eight; the Fallen Nunh
| '''Naming Conventions''' : X' (pronounced ''she'')
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Location''' : North of the Black Shroud and east of Coerthas, in the tundra around the mountains of Xelphatol.
|}

==History==

As with the rest of their species, the Lynx tribe arrived in [[Eorzea]] in the Fifth Umbral Era, when ice bridges were created across continents. The ancestors of the current tribe followed not only their traditional prey but also the visions of their tribal leaders and the beast that they revered, the lynx. During the end of the Fifth Umbral Era, when the ice began to melt, the tribe migrated to the north and eastern portion of Eorzea, preferring the more northern climes associated with their totem. Much of the tribe remained essentially nomadic, though each claimed their territories in various parts of the more northern regions of [[Aldenard]]. <br>

===A sept sequestered===
During the War of the Magi, in the waning years of the Fifth Astral Era, a cabal of Nymian scholars broke away from the city-state. It is unknown whether they were exiled for unsound practices, or needed secrecy and privacy to complete their work; what is known is that they constructed a subterranean bunker and research station dedicated to discovering the secrets of immortality which came to be known as the Crucible of Knowledge (or simply the Crucible). Seeing their work as their people's only chance to survive the War of the Magi, these scholars made use of the resources they could find, in the form of an isolated sept of Lynx tribe miqo'te.<br>
The lore of the Falling Stars states that the experiments performed upon their ancestors were done against their will. The tonberry Ibes Habes, survivor of the main city-state proper, insists that his fellows would never have stooped to such barbarity (though it is worth noting that Habes to this day seems to consider miqo'te to be little more than beasts, so the impartiality of his recollection is subject to some doubt). Regardless of how it began, the experiments were long-running and kept fiercely isolated from contamination, necessitating profound adjustments to the aetherial makeup of the subjects over a series of generations. Their aetherial pathways were completely rerouted, resulting in hardy, resilient spoken whose bodies were highly susceptible to and able to recover from further aetherial manipulation; the downside was that this internal focus rendered them incapable of expressing aether beyond their own bodies in anything but the most basic transmission. In essence, though capable of channeling aether through their own bodies, the Falling Stars are fundamentally incapable of wielding external magic (such as thaumaturgy, conjury, etc).<br>
A side-benefit, of interest to the scholars, was an extremely high resilience against bio-aetherial degradation, which, in addition to rendering their bodies proof against early ravages of ageing, also insulates them against potential deleterious effects of inbreeding.. a valuable trait for multi-generation research subjects.<br>

===The flight of the Falling Stars===
After an unknown time (though scattered notes suggest it was at least several decades, possibly as much as a century), the subjects rose up in rebellion. Legend states that a powerful male leader, whose name was lost and is only known of as The First Nunh, stirred his brethren into a bloody insurrection which resulted in the total massacre of the scholars and the flight of the miqo'te from the Crucible. The First Nunh led them to follow the trail of a falling star to the east, which brought the fleeing tribals into the lee of [[Xelphatol]] just in time for the calamitous Great Flood which would spell the end of the Fifth Astral Era. When the waters receded, the miqo'te descended from the mountains and settled into the new tundra, founding the Home Sept of the newly-named Falling Stars Tribe.<br>

===History of the Falling Stars with the Ixal, and Other Outsiders===
Due to their proximity to the mountains of Xelphatol, the native home of the avian beastmen known as the Ixal, the Falling Stars have had a history of open warfare and savage hostility with the beastman. It cannot be denied that the miqo'te tribals were the first to invade the lands of the Ixal, even if it was in the name of surviving the Great Flood, and that from the first little to no effort was made toward diplomacy. Their time in captivity had instilled into the Falling Stars an intense xenophobia, teaching them that "Outsiders" could never be trusted. To this day, Warriors of the tribe adorn themselves with trophies claimed from the birdmen, from feathers to talons and eyes.<br>
The hostility of the Falling Stars extended toward all Outsiders. Though natives of other neighboring lands rarely had reason to venture forth in the bleak tundra of their home, invariably any who were discovered were seen as threats and treated no better than the Ixal. Their knowledge of their home land, coupled with their physical prowess and disinclination to wander, had kept the existence of the sept concealed for over fifteen centuries... <br>

===Starsfall, the war of the Falling Stars===
Some few short Turns ago (in 2015 IRL) the Nunh of the Falling Stars, X'zarann Silverfall Nunh, led his most powerful followers - five ritually-enhanced lieutenants called The Fallen - in a massacre. The pioneering settlement of Rock Falls, fifty men and women seeking to set up a seaside trading post on the southeastern-most edge of Thanalan, was wiped out in order to establish a new sept for the Falling Stars.<br> Being from the cold lands, the Nunh sought to harden his warriors against the heat and expand his reach using a network of simplistic, direct-transmission aetherytes based on stolen Ixal technology. These "beastman-style aetherytes" cannot be accessed from the normal aethernet, but only permit travel between themselves and their mirrors, all of which were located in the Crystal Caves near the Home Sept of the Falling Stars. The former Rock Falls, now the Bloody Prints Sept, was the first; further aetherytes were set up in secret cave in Coerthas, in the Sea of Clouds, and in the Crucible where the Falling Stars were first created. Later, additional aetherytes were set up in the city of Ul'dah, and in the U'Ghamaro Mines of the Kobolds in Vylbrand.<br>

===A new age===

WIP AFTER THIS POINT

==Culture==

A note regarding the Coeurl culture at large and methods of communication in specific. Due to their proximity and the harshness of the environment they have carved their villages out of, the Coeurl have developed highly subtle forms of silent and near-silent communication using facial expressions, ear placement, and tail and hand motions. They use this form of communication amongst each other and to recognize one another while out in the world at large. As this is their default form of communication, when Coeurl tribe members are in society at large they are often regarded as somewhat twitchy.

===Politics===
Each of the three villages in the Coeurl tribe follows a system of government whereby five of the eldest members of the village- three females past child-bearing age and two males past hunting age- come together to discuss the good of the village. It is this Council that determines whether or not to declare proper war, when to look to new hunting grounds, and mediates disputes involving other villages, disputes between the various traditional ''ton'' (vocation-based fraternities and sororities), and disputes between nunhs. It is also this Council that determines which members of the tribe will be considered as 'Ankobia' and 'Master Hunter' (the titles are the same regardless of sex) and are qualified to lead the younger warriors and hunters, respectively, through their training.

===The Jali===
The position of bardpriest, known as ''jali'' is an important one in the villages of the Coeurl tribe both politically and spiritually. She plays the role of historian, mediator in minor arguments, spiritual bridge between the tribe and the elementals and the goddess, song-singer, dance teacher, and psychopomp along the rites of passage. <br><br>
The jali position is always held by a female and is passed only to female progeny as it requires too much movement between villages and into the outer world to be held by a tia or a nunh, who must be present in the village in order to protect it. <br><br>
Each village has it's own jali, however the jali of each village is expected to travel into the other villages as well as into the outer world frequently in order to maintain positive relations with the spirits and to learn the stories that are their stock in trade. Whenever one village's jali is gone, the other two jalis and their daughters are expected to pick up the duties. The only time all three jalis are required to be in the villages are during the two great festivals.<br><br>
The jali of the three villages are related. When the tribe crossed the ice in the 5th Umbral Era, one female had the ability that is now called 'The Echo'. She had three daughters. Over time, those three daughters have either raised or adopted daughters with that same ability so that they can trace their lineage in an unbroken line back to the first. The Echo has manifested in various different ways, leading to the jali's various duties. The current jali of the three villages consider one another sisters and have raised their daughters to do the same.

===Religion===
As with most of their sub-race, the Coeurl tribe worships the sun goddess [[Azeyma, the Warden]]. In her honor they consider themselves the ''warriors of the clouds'' and celebrate two large festivals annually. The tribe also reveres multiple manifestations of elemental spirits- fire and water being two elements of greater importance due to the villages' desert lifestyle. The reverence for the coeurl has made that figure a creature of folk tales, morality stories, as well as an intercessor between the tribe and Azeyma.

====Azeyma's Rest====
Azeyma's Rest is the summer solstice, when the Coeurl tribe believes that Azeyma shines her brightest before beginning to hide her radiant face behind her fan. It is a day to celebrate accomplishments of the year, to show one's strength, fertility, joy, and pride to the shining face of the Warden. It is often celebrated with elaborate dances, songs testifying the accomplishments of the tribe as a whole as well as individual members, and many times it is this day when young tias will attempt to challenge the nunhs of their village.<br><br>
On the day of Azeyma's Rest, the Coeurl tribe's largest number of courtship rituals are acted out. While a small number of rituals occur on other days of the year, it is considered good luck to be courted on the longest day of the year, as it is believed that Azeyma will bless the pairing with fertility and will allow the new female to join her sisters with that nunh in good harmony.<br><br>
Previously, there was a ritual enacted on Azeyma's Rest wherein a tia was chosen by the Council, sent into the wilds for 24 hours with nothing to eat or drink and no weapons. Should he return, he would be granted nunh status for that shortest night of the year and that night only and he should have his choice of any of the women of the tribe who would accept him, as they believed him to be blessed by Azeyma herself. Should a child be born of that symbolic union, they were almost universally heterochromic, a symbol of great importance to the Coeurl tribe and, indeed, the Seekers of the Sun as a whole. This ritual has largely fallen out of favor (at least publically) due to outside pressures from visitors to the tribe, who consider the practice overly superstitious. <br><br>
Azeyma's Rest is considered a holiday primarily celebrating the masculine elements of the tribe, with music, dancing, and story-telling following this theme. It is occasionally referred to as the 'male's new year'.

====Azeyma's Rising====
Azeyma's Rising falls on the winter solstice, near the end of the rainy season, when the Coeurl tribe believes that the Warden is beginning to rise from her long period of resting and is finally prepared to draw back her fan. As compared to the more boisterous celebrations of Azeyma's Rest, Azyema's Rising is a deeply spiritual holiday and is focused on preparing of one's self and one's village to move into the brightness of the Warden's light once more- and to be worthy of it. A holiday focusing on relationships between the spirits and the 'real' world, each village's cubs perform a ritual dance for which they have practiced for months wherein they form a chain that resembled a great fork of lightning striking through the three villages, moving from one all the way across the other two, until each dwelling and gathering place has been touched by their footpads- which have been stained a pale blue by grinding a flower that grows only in the rainy season.<br><br>
This same pale blue stain will be re-applied to the gates that stand at the entrance to each village, a symbolic rekindling of the bond between the Coeurl people and the lightning-bearing creature they revere.<br><br>
When the sun has set, many lanterns are lit and great feasts are prepared, and the village's female shaman and bard, known as a ''jali'', will step forward and begin to tell one of the stories of how Azeyma came by her fan. In the most popular version, the Warden's radiance was so dazzling the Miqo'te people became lost and wandered in the desert. They would have died had it not been for a great coeurl queen, who saw the brilliant goddess and took pity on the plight of the Miqo'te people, slipping between them and the shining sun's light. The coeurl's fur was burned black wherever the lady's eyes fell, like sunspots left behind one's closed eyes, but the lady was inspired, and fashioned herself a fan to shield her chosen people.<br><br>
Once the story is told, the jali will partake of a drug to send herself into a light trance as the village sings and dances tributes to the coeurl and Azeyma. While in said trance, the jali will attempt to seek the elemental spirits of fire, water, and (should she be lucky) the coeurl itself to ask for a year of abundant game, healthy childbearing, and safe passage for the cubs passing into adulthood.<br><br>
Given the deeply spiritual nature of this holiday as well as it's focus on beginnings, Azeyma's Rising is themed around the feminine and is considered the 'female's new year'.

===Rites of Passage===

When a miqo'te cub of the Coeurl tribe approaches their twelfth name-day, they are considered to be coming of age.<br><br>
At this time, the youth is taken aside by the Council and the jali of their village and is taught the history of their people and the ritual songs and dances of passage. They are also placed in seclusion until they complete the ritual items that will show the villages their change in status. Males and females both embroider their vests and headscarves and both sexes must complete the creation of basic weaponry- often a bow and arrows or a spear- for the final portion of the ritual. <br><br>
Once the weaponry is fashioned and the dances and songs have been learned to the Council and bardpriest's satisfaction, the youth is sent out into the desert of Thanalan for one full day and one full night. They are not given food nor water, having to find these things on their own. Many Coeurl tribesmembers relate that they are given visions during this time, shown the way to prey or to water sources by elemental spirits, by the coeurl, or by following the shadow of Azeyma's fan.<br><br>
When the youth returns to the village at dawn, they are gifted with their embroidered clothing, feasted, and welcomed into the adolescent world. A small celebration is thrown in their village and the youth must sing and dance what they have learned both from the jali and on their spiritual and survival journey into the wilds of the desert. When the celebration is over, the youth is free to choose a ton, to leave the communal housing of their mothers, and to learn a trade. It is at this time that tattooing is common, with many Coeurl adolescents choosing to get tattoos on their faces or elsewhere detailing their journey into the wild.

====The 'Ton'====

The ton are the communities within the villages of adolescent male and female miqo'te that are learning a trade. All of the ton are open to both sexes, however living arrangements are divided into male and female communal housing with an elder member of the ton so as to discourage courting or unsupervised pairings. The ton are used much like the outer world uses their various schools- there is a warrior's ton where the adolescents will learn the arts of war, tactics, how to weild various weapons, and how to work in a team, a hunter's ton that focuses on archery and tracking, a cooking ton, a weaver's ton, et cetera. <br><br>
The only profession that does not have a ton is that of the jali. This profession is passed down strictly through bloodlines due to the extensive amount of training required to learn the songs, dances, and rituals. The adolescent progeny of the jali in the villages are encouraged to join other tons, however their studies as the future bardpriest in the village take precedence. <br><br>
The warrior's ton is an excellent example of how tons work in Coeurl society. An adolescent joins at the lowest level, the ''Sword Bearer'' or ''Afena''. At this level, the adolescent warrior is given a mock wooden weapon and is typically treated as a runner, expected to learn by being silent and watching their elders. They perform many of the chores of the communal housing in order to learn discipline. They typically spar only with other Afena. In war, the Afena are camp runners, thus the title sword-bearer. The next level is ''Apprentice'' or ''Adum''. Upon graduating to apprentice level, the warrior has been taken under the wing of a older student and is given a blunted metal weapon and begins being taught tactics, the way of fighting that the Coeurl tribe favors. Adum are allowed to request sparring sessions with members of their own rank as well as the rank above them. They still perform chores but usually only do those related to attending to their mentors. In war, the Adum act as squires, sticking close to their mentors and providing for any and every need. The next rank in the ton is ''Warrior'' or ''Asafo''- these are the bulk of the fighting force of the village and are adults in the tribe that have undergone their adulthood rite of passage and returned to become mentors in the ton. Very rarely a nunh will be a part of this rank, however it is mostly made up of tias and females not currently bearing cubs. The final rank is the head of the warrior ton as well as the de facto general in times of war, the ''Ankobia''. This rank is chosen by the Council from the best warriors in the ton and is typically held until resignation or death in battle.<br><br>
The non-combat focused tons, such as the weaver's ton or the cooking ton, have slightly different structures and graduation standards, however they generally hold to the same idea as the more martial tons. The biggest difference is that the heads of these tons are not appointed by the Council but are chosen by the ton in an internal vote held among the adult members of the group.

====Singing/Hunting the World====

The final ritual most Coeurl tribespeople undergo is that of Hunting the World (called Singing the World for the daughters of jali). It is a relatively new rite, begun when Ul'dah began being settled so close to their traditional hunting grounds which introduced the tribe to many new people and new cultures. The legend goes that after several failed raids on the fledgling city, attempting to drive the intruders off thier territory, the three Councils met and it was decided that the tribe would approach the settlers as an opportunity.<br><br>
The ritual occurs when an adolescent miqo'te has reached the second rank in his or her ton- or in the case of the jali's heir, when her mother has determined it to be time. At this time, the mentor that has been guiding the miqo'te will gift them with a simple weapon, rations, and a piece of clothing embroidered with symbols for protection and knowledge. The youth is encouraged to travel as far and wide as they can in order to bring back some new piece of knowledge relevant to not just their ton but all of the tons, whether it is a new recipe, a new way of sword crafting, or a new song. Once they have hunted new prey across the four corners of Eorzea, they are to return to their village and present their findings on the next Azeyma's Rest, where their position in the tribe will change from adolescent to adult. <br><br>
It is at this time that tias are considered 'old enough' to start challenging nunhs in earnest, though some unruly adolescent males attempt it prior to their Hunt. It is at this time also that females will change the embroidery on their clothing to indicate they are open to being courted by one of the nunhs, though again, younger females occasionally are mated to nunhs prior to their Hunt or Song, particularly during seasons of war.

===Family Structure and Children===

As with other Keepers of the Sun, the Coeurl tribe keeps to the traditions of having a limited number of males who breed, known as 'nunh's and a larger number of non-breeding males known as 'tia's. In the three villages, the number of nunhs is never greater than four and currently sits at three in each village, with approximately ten to fifteen tias per village. <br><br>
The number of tias include adolescent boys and old men out of their prime but still technically of breeding age and so may seem inflated. It does not include the two males on each Council, nor the males of extreme age, as they are no longer considered competition for the nunhs.<br><br>
Each nunh typically is mated to roughly ten females of breeding age, though that number is somewhat fluid depending on the females of the village and the nunh's efforts to maintain the relationships beyond simple breeding. <br><br>
Typically, the females live in communal housing, sharing the hunting, gathering, cooking, and child-rearing duties amongst one another, with the very young and very old tias assisting. Each member of a nunh's household is considered family despite previous blood ties, with the females of a household referring to one another as 'sisters' or 'mothers' and the tias of a village either 'little brother' or 'uncle' depending on youth or age. The council members are always 'grandmother/father' depending on sex. The nunhs are typically not referred to in this familial manner, whether due to incest taboos or due to some honorary status attached to their names it is not clear. <br><br>
Childrearing is a communal process that begins after the cub's eighth day after birth. Prior to that day, the mother and cub are separated from the rest of the tribe and visited by the jali daily so that they may rest and be kept safe from negative influences. On the eighth day, the cub is presented to the tribe and the jali performs a brief ritual so that the elemental spirits will reveal the cub's name. The name is then typically not used in daily life, most Coeurl preferring nicknames or petnames until the cub is old enough to undergo their coming of age ritual.

====Courtship====

The courtship rituals of the Coeurl tribe are varied but are based on exogenous systems- it is taboo to join with a nunh within one's village. Therefore, holidays such as Azeyma's Rest and Azeyma's Rising are extremely important cultural exchanges wherein the females of the villages meet the nunhs and tias of their neighbors. Dancing is a common form of flirting, with the females dancing before the nunhs and the nunhs dancing before the females in turn in displays of strength, skill, beauty, and sexual prowess. As mentioned previously, such displays are common on Azeyma's Rest.<br><br>
When a nunh decides upon a female he would like to court, he will typically give her a small gift- jewelry is common, as are small embroidered or woven swatches of cloth, or for the martially inclined female, beautifully inlaid or filigreed small weapons like knives. Once the gift is received and accepted, the nunh will then stage a ceremonial kidnapping of the female from her ton, typically with the elder member of the communal dwelling's approval. If the kidnapping is done well, the female will move her things the next morning from the ton into the communal housing of the nunh's other mates. If the female is disappointed in the kidnapping, the gift, or the nunh in any way, she will petition one of the tias of her village, who will arrive to return her home to her village. <br><br>
The concepts of marriage and divorce are not followed in the tribe, though they are aware of such things existing. If a female feels neglected or displeased with the nunh she is mated to, she may leave his dwelling and either return to her village or, if another nunh is courting her, she may be ceremonially kidnapped from her current nunh. This typically occurs with younger females that have not yet borne cubs that are mated to older nunhs and often heralds a nunh being challenged.

====Nunhs and Tias====

When a tia decides to challenge a nunh for breeding rights, there are a few ways in which the Coeurl tribe typically settles such challenges. It is the nunh's right to choose the weapon and the tia's right to choose the terms- first outside the circle, to first blood, etc. It is strictly taboo for a challenge to occur during a time of war, though it is not unheard of for a tia to take advantage of the chaos of combat to eliminate a rival and petition for their position. Typical challenges occur during spring and summer, with the most common forms of combat being wrestling matches (claws and teeth being absolutely necessary for the Coeurl version of this sport), swordplay to first blood, even games of skill such as a game called ''Oware'', which is played on a board with several pits and small glass beads.<br><br>
If a tia is defeated, they lose face for a short time (particularly if extremely cocky) but can work themselves back into the good graces of the tribe relatively easily. It is generally seen as extremely poor judgement for multiple tias to challenge a nunh back to back and should the Council suspect that tias have banded together to take out a nunh they may punish the offenders extremely severely- exile being the accepted punishment.<br><br>
Should a nunh lose his place in the village, he will be taken in as a respected tia but the females in his dwelling typically return to their respective villages with their cubs where they will move in with their mothers or go to the tons where they lived prior to joining with the nunh. The new nunh must go about the courtship rituals from the beginning and establish himself anew.

===Warfare===
The Coeurl tribe is typically peaceful amongst themselves. They have a long and bloody history of warfare with the lizard beastmen the amal'jaa to the east as well as minor skirmishes with other miqo'te tribes and the occasional bandit troupe that attempts to encroach upon their very large territory. This includes pirates attempting to use the Bay of Dha'yuz as a safe bearth. As a result of this, the tribe has learned to translate their natural speed, hearing, and sense of smell into powerful guerilla-warfare style combat.<br><br>
Considering one of the tribe's tons is focused entirely on hand-to-hand combat (the warriors) and another is focused on archery and tracking, the Coeurl tribe is skilled in using small groups of combatants to surround an enemy, whereupon they flush them and using silent or near-silent communcation, they force their enemy into running combat whenever possible, picking them off. When the enemy stands to face them or proves to be better armed or armored, the tribe uses their knowledge of the land to set up traps, not above using their own or one of their enemies as bait.<br><br>
Typically, the Coeurl tribe does not have any residents with the ability to call upon magical forces, though the occasional prodigy has been known to occur. Such usually leaves the tribe during their period of Hunting the World. It is not unheard of for there to be one or more members of the tribe with the skill to summon manifestations of the elementals, however, and the jali are generally recognized as skilled healers- whether due to a knowledge of herbs, spices, and other primitive alchemy or due to a skill at conjury is not clear at this time.<br><br>
In battle, the Coeurl tribe will often paint themselves with dark blue symbols and stain the pads and claws of their hands so that should they be unarmed, they still strike with the power of the spirits.

====Ritual Weapons====

The Coeurl tribe practices a unique battle ritual in that they will only use certain materials in weapons used to kill enemies versus weapons used to hunt. The belief is that hunting is a sacred rite, as is battle, and each must adhere to it's own ways. A hunting bow, for instance, may be strung with the gut of one of the miqo'te's first kills, whereas a war bow will be strung with the hair of the first enemy to be successfully faced.

===Death===

The tribe's view on death is one of renewal- death is part of the cycle of life and therefore the spirit of the dead must be encouraged to walk on. Upon the death of a village member, the village will gather to cremate the body. Upon cremation, it is fervently wished that the deceased miqo'te will go on to “live in the Warden's warmth”. The ashes are then taken and used in the casting of several small bells which are hung in the windows and doorways of the deceased's former home or ton, where the desert wind will cause them to ring joyfully and remind those still living of the brightness of the life beyond.

===Impact of Outside Cultures===

The Coeurl tribe are not located terribly far from Ul'dah. As a result of their proximity to this large, bustling city, many of the younger members of the tribe who leave on their Hunt or Song leave and do not return. Whether they are lured away from the tribal society by the larger promise of riches, fame, and adventure or victimized due to their naivete is not clear, however it is certain that each year a few Coeurl adolescents do not return from their rite of passage.<br><br>
Overall, the Coeurl tribe takes on a somewhat conflicting approach to the outside world. “ I against my brother, my brothers and I against my cousins, then my cousins and I against strangers.” is a common tribal saying but the concept of ''diyafa'' or hospitality is deeply ingrained into the Coeurl. Even an enemy that requests hospitality is granted it and to turn one that asks away is a deeply shameful act. The villagers seem to be most content to have the greater world held at arm's distance but will not hesitate to welcome it should it pass their gates.<br><br>
That is not to say that the tribe is a dying one. The tribe has learned many things due to the process of the Song/Hunt and since the Calamity they have taken in orphans and members from the more nomadic tribes in the area that were displaced when the Deepvoid appeared. As a result, the tribe is currently in a state of some flux, with changes being made to previously rigid systems. It is uncertain whether the Coeurl tribe of current day and the Coeurl tribe of the future will resemble one another at all.

==Art and Music==

===Dress===

The Coeurl tribe favors loose, flowing clothing, dyed or woven with a variety of bright colors. After the coming of age ritual, the villagers each have a ''tagelmust'' or combination turban/veil that is embroidered more and more elaborately throughout their life. Typically, the tagelmust is dyed a bright blue using a method that requires the dyer to pound the color into the cloth due to the lack of readily available water. As the miqo'te grows, they add embroidery to the headscarf until it is so thickly embroidered with the details of their deeds that the original blue is almost invisible.

====Weaving====

The members of the weaver's ton of the Coeurl tribe have learned a great deal from the outside world, especially Ul'dah, and have become quite adept at using their natural dexterity to create elaborate designs where each color has it's own meaning. The tribe has become known in certain circles for the brilliance of their colors and the delicacy of it's designs and trade relations have tentatively begun to export the Coeurl weaving into Ul'dah.<br><br>
Some of the colors and themes common in Coeurl textile work are:
{|
|-
| valign=”top” |
* Light blue- spiritual ties, lightning
* Dark blue- strength, power in battle
* Gold/Orange- fertility, joy, glory; associated with Azeyma
| valighn=”top” |
* Purple- femininity, fertility
* Green- healing, growth, purity
* Black- festivals, spiritual energy
|}

====Jewelry====

Jewelry is common for both males and females in the Coeurl tribe, with designs varying but trending towards the abstract and elaborate. The tribe favors the use of symbols to evoke adages, old stories, and folk heros, and these symbols are very popular in jewelry. Crystals, gemstones, and precious metals are all common, with most jewelry being made using either the lost-wax casting method or the filigree method, both of which favor delicate designs and allow for a great deal of intricacy.<br><br>
The village nunhs each carry a ceremonial weapon that is more appropriately considered a piece of jewelry. A sword created out of fulgarite glass- the glass that is made when lightning hits sand. Carefully crafted by the best swordsmiths in the villages, these swords are passed on when the nunhs are challenged and are a symbol of both their strength and the fragility of their position in the tribe.<br><br>
Females tend to favor small bells around wrists and ankles when in the village.<br><br>
At this time, the miners of Ul'dah have not realized that the sands around the Coeurl villages are rich in naturally occuring gold and precious stones.

===Tattoos===

Much like the jewelry, the tattoos of the Coeurl tribe trend towards abstract symbols with deeper meanings. Most members of the tribe are tattooed in one form or another, many receiving their tattoos at their coming of age ceremony and adding to them after their Hunt/Song. It is common in the tribe to receive tattoos on the face, across the cheeks and nose, as well as on the upper arms and across the shoulders.

===Music===

====Common Instruments====
The Coeurl tribe favors percussion instruments, several different kinds of drums being common among the villages. Each village has a very large drum meant to be used as a message relay system, all the way down to very small bongo-style drum sets held between the knees. Each of the three villages have a sacred drum that the jali uses when doing ritual songs, made of cactuar with coeurl hide. These drums are believed to beat with the sacred heart of the coeurl itself and have been carefully tended by the jali over many generations.<br><br>
Besides the drums, instruments like bells and bone flutes are common, with many of the tribe adorning wrists, ankles, ears, and tails with small tinkling accessories to create a musical counterpoint to the heavy percussion common in their dances.<br><br>
The Coeurl tribe also use their voices in various ululations and calls, having a much wider range of vocalizations than the Hyur, Roegadyn, or Lalafell.

====Dance====

Dance is an extremely important part of Coeurl culture. It is part of their courtship rituals, part of their coming of age rituals, part of their religious rites, and a part of their spiritual life. Most Coeurl dances involve the entire body from the tips of their ears to the ends of their toes and are driven by strong percussion created by drums and footpads hitting the earth.<br><br>
In a species where communication can be subtly changed by ear and tail position, the ears and tails of the Coeurl are a big part of many of their story-dances, used to evoke emotions while the face is hidden by a mask or the hands.

Coeurl ceremonial garb is worn during their dances and there are a multitude of different dances for males, females, and both.

[[Category:Troupe]]

Falling Stars Tribe

2019-07-11T20:32:11Z

Anstarra: /* A sept sequestered */

{{speculation}}

Please note: This page is a Work In Progress based off the template used by the Coeurl Tribe

The '''Falling Stars Tribe''', an off-shoot of the [[:Category: Miqo'te Seeker of the Sun|Seekers of the Sun]] sub-race of [[Miqo'te]], are a historically insular tribe located in the tundra to the northeast of [[Coerthas]], in the lee of the mountains of [[Xelphatol]]. Until a few Turns ago, very few knew of the tribe's existence, but in recent times due to the expansionist ambitions of their now-deceased Nunh, they came into conflict with the city-states of [[Eorzea]]. Now, a peace has been established, and the once-xenophobic Falling Stars have taken an exploratory interest in the world beyond their borders.

{| style= "width: 200px; height: 200px; float: right;" border="1"
| '''Race''' : [[Miqo'te]]
| '''Clan''' : Seekers of the Sun
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Population''' : ~400
| '''Number of Septs''' : 3
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Religion''' : [[Azeyma, the Warden]]; the Eight; the Fallen Nunh
| '''Naming Conventions''' : X' (pronounced ''she'')
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Location''' : North of the Black Shroud and east of Coerthas, in the tundra around the mountains of Xelphatol.
|}

==History==

As with the rest of their species, the Lynx tribe arrived in [[Eorzea]] in the Fifth Umbral Era, when ice bridges were created across continents. The ancestors of the current tribe followed not only their traditional prey but also the visions of their tribal leaders and the beast that they revered, the lynx. During the end of the Fifth Umbral Era, when the ice began to melt, the tribe migrated to the north and eastern portion of Eorzea, preferring the more northern climes associated with their totem. Much of the tribe remained essentially nomadic, though each claimed their territories in various parts of the more northern regions of [[Aldenard]]. <br>

===A sept sequestered===
During the War of the Magi, in the waning years of the Fifth Astral Era, a cabal of Nymian scholars broke away from the city-state. It is unknown whether they were exiled for unsound practices, or needed secrecy and privacy to complete their work; what is known is that they constructed a subterranean bunker and research station dedicated to discovering the secrets of immortality which came to be known as the Crucible of Knowledge (or simply the Crucible). Seeing their work as their people's only chance to survive the War of the Magi, these scholars made use of the resources they could find, in the form of an isolated sept of Lynx tribe miqo'te.<br>
The lore of the Falling Stars states that the experiments performed upon their ancestors were done against their will. The tonberry Ibes Habes, survivor of the main city-state proper, insists that his fellows would never have stooped to such barbarity (though it is worth noting that Habes to this day seems to consider miqo'te to be little more than beasts, so the impartiality of his recollection is subject to some doubt). Regardless of how it began, the experiments were long-running and kept fiercely isolated from contamination, necessitating profound adjustments to the aetherial makeup of the subjects over a series of generations. Their aetherial pathways were completely rerouted, resulting in hardy, resilient spoken whose bodies were highly susceptible to and able to recover from further aetherial manipulation; the downside was that this internal focus rendered them incapable of expressing aether beyond their own bodies in anything but the most basic transmission. In essence, though capable of channeling aether through their own bodies, the Falling Stars are fundamentally incapable of wielding external magic (such as thaumaturgy, conjury, etc).<br>
A side-benefit, of interest to the scholars, was an extremely high resilience against bio-aetherial degradation, which, in addition to rendering their bodies proof against early ravages of ageing, also insulates them against potential deleterious effects of inbreeding.. a valuable trait for multi-generation research subjects.<br>

===The flight of the Falling Stars===
After an unknown time (though scattered notes suggest it was at least several decades, possibly as much as a century), the subjects rose up in rebellion. Legend states that a powerful male leader, whose name was lost and is only known of as The First Nunh, stirred his brethren into a bloody insurrection which resulted in the total massacre of the scholars and the flight of the miqo'te from the Crucible. The First Nunh led them to follow the trail of a falling star to the east, which brought the fleeing tribals into the lee of [[Xelphatol]] just in time for the calamitous Great Flood which would spell the end of the Fifth Astral Era. When the waters receded, the miqo'te descended from the mountains and settled into the new tundra, founding the Home Sept of the newly-named Falling Stars Tribe.<br>

===History of the Falling Stars with the Ixal, and Other Outsiders===
Due to their proximity to the mountains of Xelphatol, the native home of the avian beastmen known as the Ixal, the Falling Stars have had a history of open warfare and savage hostility with the beastman. It cannot be denied that the miqo'te tribals were the first to invade the lands of the Ixal, even if it was in the name of surviving the Great Flood, and that from the first little to no effort was made toward diplomacy. Their time in captivity had instilled into the Falling Stars an intense xenophobia, teaching them that "Outsiders" could never be trusted. To this day, Warriors of the tribe adorn themselves with trophies claimed from the birdmen, from feathers to talons and eyes.<br>
The hostility of the Falling Stars extended toward all Outsiders. Though natives of other neighboring lands rarely had reason to venture forth in the bleak tundra of their home, invariably any who were discovered were seen as threats and treated no better than the Ixal. Their knowledge of their home land, coupled with their physical prowess and disinclination to wander, had kept the existence of the sept concealed for over fifteen centuries... <br>

===A new age===

WIP AFTER THIS POINT

==Culture==

A note regarding the Coeurl culture at large and methods of communication in specific. Due to their proximity and the harshness of the environment they have carved their villages out of, the Coeurl have developed highly subtle forms of silent and near-silent communication using facial expressions, ear placement, and tail and hand motions. They use this form of communication amongst each other and to recognize one another while out in the world at large. As this is their default form of communication, when Coeurl tribe members are in society at large they are often regarded as somewhat twitchy.

===Politics===
Each of the three villages in the Coeurl tribe follows a system of government whereby five of the eldest members of the village- three females past child-bearing age and two males past hunting age- come together to discuss the good of the village. It is this Council that determines whether or not to declare proper war, when to look to new hunting grounds, and mediates disputes involving other villages, disputes between the various traditional ''ton'' (vocation-based fraternities and sororities), and disputes between nunhs. It is also this Council that determines which members of the tribe will be considered as 'Ankobia' and 'Master Hunter' (the titles are the same regardless of sex) and are qualified to lead the younger warriors and hunters, respectively, through their training.

===The Jali===
The position of bardpriest, known as ''jali'' is an important one in the villages of the Coeurl tribe both politically and spiritually. She plays the role of historian, mediator in minor arguments, spiritual bridge between the tribe and the elementals and the goddess, song-singer, dance teacher, and psychopomp along the rites of passage. <br><br>
The jali position is always held by a female and is passed only to female progeny as it requires too much movement between villages and into the outer world to be held by a tia or a nunh, who must be present in the village in order to protect it. <br><br>
Each village has it's own jali, however the jali of each village is expected to travel into the other villages as well as into the outer world frequently in order to maintain positive relations with the spirits and to learn the stories that are their stock in trade. Whenever one village's jali is gone, the other two jalis and their daughters are expected to pick up the duties. The only time all three jalis are required to be in the villages are during the two great festivals.<br><br>
The jali of the three villages are related. When the tribe crossed the ice in the 5th Umbral Era, one female had the ability that is now called 'The Echo'. She had three daughters. Over time, those three daughters have either raised or adopted daughters with that same ability so that they can trace their lineage in an unbroken line back to the first. The Echo has manifested in various different ways, leading to the jali's various duties. The current jali of the three villages consider one another sisters and have raised their daughters to do the same.

===Religion===
As with most of their sub-race, the Coeurl tribe worships the sun goddess [[Azeyma, the Warden]]. In her honor they consider themselves the ''warriors of the clouds'' and celebrate two large festivals annually. The tribe also reveres multiple manifestations of elemental spirits- fire and water being two elements of greater importance due to the villages' desert lifestyle. The reverence for the coeurl has made that figure a creature of folk tales, morality stories, as well as an intercessor between the tribe and Azeyma.

====Azeyma's Rest====
Azeyma's Rest is the summer solstice, when the Coeurl tribe believes that Azeyma shines her brightest before beginning to hide her radiant face behind her fan. It is a day to celebrate accomplishments of the year, to show one's strength, fertility, joy, and pride to the shining face of the Warden. It is often celebrated with elaborate dances, songs testifying the accomplishments of the tribe as a whole as well as individual members, and many times it is this day when young tias will attempt to challenge the nunhs of their village.<br><br>
On the day of Azeyma's Rest, the Coeurl tribe's largest number of courtship rituals are acted out. While a small number of rituals occur on other days of the year, it is considered good luck to be courted on the longest day of the year, as it is believed that Azeyma will bless the pairing with fertility and will allow the new female to join her sisters with that nunh in good harmony.<br><br>
Previously, there was a ritual enacted on Azeyma's Rest wherein a tia was chosen by the Council, sent into the wilds for 24 hours with nothing to eat or drink and no weapons. Should he return, he would be granted nunh status for that shortest night of the year and that night only and he should have his choice of any of the women of the tribe who would accept him, as they believed him to be blessed by Azeyma herself. Should a child be born of that symbolic union, they were almost universally heterochromic, a symbol of great importance to the Coeurl tribe and, indeed, the Seekers of the Sun as a whole. This ritual has largely fallen out of favor (at least publically) due to outside pressures from visitors to the tribe, who consider the practice overly superstitious. <br><br>
Azeyma's Rest is considered a holiday primarily celebrating the masculine elements of the tribe, with music, dancing, and story-telling following this theme. It is occasionally referred to as the 'male's new year'.

====Azeyma's Rising====
Azeyma's Rising falls on the winter solstice, near the end of the rainy season, when the Coeurl tribe believes that the Warden is beginning to rise from her long period of resting and is finally prepared to draw back her fan. As compared to the more boisterous celebrations of Azeyma's Rest, Azyema's Rising is a deeply spiritual holiday and is focused on preparing of one's self and one's village to move into the brightness of the Warden's light once more- and to be worthy of it. A holiday focusing on relationships between the spirits and the 'real' world, each village's cubs perform a ritual dance for which they have practiced for months wherein they form a chain that resembled a great fork of lightning striking through the three villages, moving from one all the way across the other two, until each dwelling and gathering place has been touched by their footpads- which have been stained a pale blue by grinding a flower that grows only in the rainy season.<br><br>
This same pale blue stain will be re-applied to the gates that stand at the entrance to each village, a symbolic rekindling of the bond between the Coeurl people and the lightning-bearing creature they revere.<br><br>
When the sun has set, many lanterns are lit and great feasts are prepared, and the village's female shaman and bard, known as a ''jali'', will step forward and begin to tell one of the stories of how Azeyma came by her fan. In the most popular version, the Warden's radiance was so dazzling the Miqo'te people became lost and wandered in the desert. They would have died had it not been for a great coeurl queen, who saw the brilliant goddess and took pity on the plight of the Miqo'te people, slipping between them and the shining sun's light. The coeurl's fur was burned black wherever the lady's eyes fell, like sunspots left behind one's closed eyes, but the lady was inspired, and fashioned herself a fan to shield her chosen people.<br><br>
Once the story is told, the jali will partake of a drug to send herself into a light trance as the village sings and dances tributes to the coeurl and Azeyma. While in said trance, the jali will attempt to seek the elemental spirits of fire, water, and (should she be lucky) the coeurl itself to ask for a year of abundant game, healthy childbearing, and safe passage for the cubs passing into adulthood.<br><br>
Given the deeply spiritual nature of this holiday as well as it's focus on beginnings, Azeyma's Rising is themed around the feminine and is considered the 'female's new year'.

===Rites of Passage===

When a miqo'te cub of the Coeurl tribe approaches their twelfth name-day, they are considered to be coming of age.<br><br>
At this time, the youth is taken aside by the Council and the jali of their village and is taught the history of their people and the ritual songs and dances of passage. They are also placed in seclusion until they complete the ritual items that will show the villages their change in status. Males and females both embroider their vests and headscarves and both sexes must complete the creation of basic weaponry- often a bow and arrows or a spear- for the final portion of the ritual. <br><br>
Once the weaponry is fashioned and the dances and songs have been learned to the Council and bardpriest's satisfaction, the youth is sent out into the desert of Thanalan for one full day and one full night. They are not given food nor water, having to find these things on their own. Many Coeurl tribesmembers relate that they are given visions during this time, shown the way to prey or to water sources by elemental spirits, by the coeurl, or by following the shadow of Azeyma's fan.<br><br>
When the youth returns to the village at dawn, they are gifted with their embroidered clothing, feasted, and welcomed into the adolescent world. A small celebration is thrown in their village and the youth must sing and dance what they have learned both from the jali and on their spiritual and survival journey into the wilds of the desert. When the celebration is over, the youth is free to choose a ton, to leave the communal housing of their mothers, and to learn a trade. It is at this time that tattooing is common, with many Coeurl adolescents choosing to get tattoos on their faces or elsewhere detailing their journey into the wild.

====The 'Ton'====

The ton are the communities within the villages of adolescent male and female miqo'te that are learning a trade. All of the ton are open to both sexes, however living arrangements are divided into male and female communal housing with an elder member of the ton so as to discourage courting or unsupervised pairings. The ton are used much like the outer world uses their various schools- there is a warrior's ton where the adolescents will learn the arts of war, tactics, how to weild various weapons, and how to work in a team, a hunter's ton that focuses on archery and tracking, a cooking ton, a weaver's ton, et cetera. <br><br>
The only profession that does not have a ton is that of the jali. This profession is passed down strictly through bloodlines due to the extensive amount of training required to learn the songs, dances, and rituals. The adolescent progeny of the jali in the villages are encouraged to join other tons, however their studies as the future bardpriest in the village take precedence. <br><br>
The warrior's ton is an excellent example of how tons work in Coeurl society. An adolescent joins at the lowest level, the ''Sword Bearer'' or ''Afena''. At this level, the adolescent warrior is given a mock wooden weapon and is typically treated as a runner, expected to learn by being silent and watching their elders. They perform many of the chores of the communal housing in order to learn discipline. They typically spar only with other Afena. In war, the Afena are camp runners, thus the title sword-bearer. The next level is ''Apprentice'' or ''Adum''. Upon graduating to apprentice level, the warrior has been taken under the wing of a older student and is given a blunted metal weapon and begins being taught tactics, the way of fighting that the Coeurl tribe favors. Adum are allowed to request sparring sessions with members of their own rank as well as the rank above them. They still perform chores but usually only do those related to attending to their mentors. In war, the Adum act as squires, sticking close to their mentors and providing for any and every need. The next rank in the ton is ''Warrior'' or ''Asafo''- these are the bulk of the fighting force of the village and are adults in the tribe that have undergone their adulthood rite of passage and returned to become mentors in the ton. Very rarely a nunh will be a part of this rank, however it is mostly made up of tias and females not currently bearing cubs. The final rank is the head of the warrior ton as well as the de facto general in times of war, the ''Ankobia''. This rank is chosen by the Council from the best warriors in the ton and is typically held until resignation or death in battle.<br><br>
The non-combat focused tons, such as the weaver's ton or the cooking ton, have slightly different structures and graduation standards, however they generally hold to the same idea as the more martial tons. The biggest difference is that the heads of these tons are not appointed by the Council but are chosen by the ton in an internal vote held among the adult members of the group.

====Singing/Hunting the World====

The final ritual most Coeurl tribespeople undergo is that of Hunting the World (called Singing the World for the daughters of jali). It is a relatively new rite, begun when Ul'dah began being settled so close to their traditional hunting grounds which introduced the tribe to many new people and new cultures. The legend goes that after several failed raids on the fledgling city, attempting to drive the intruders off thier territory, the three Councils met and it was decided that the tribe would approach the settlers as an opportunity.<br><br>
The ritual occurs when an adolescent miqo'te has reached the second rank in his or her ton- or in the case of the jali's heir, when her mother has determined it to be time. At this time, the mentor that has been guiding the miqo'te will gift them with a simple weapon, rations, and a piece of clothing embroidered with symbols for protection and knowledge. The youth is encouraged to travel as far and wide as they can in order to bring back some new piece of knowledge relevant to not just their ton but all of the tons, whether it is a new recipe, a new way of sword crafting, or a new song. Once they have hunted new prey across the four corners of Eorzea, they are to return to their village and present their findings on the next Azeyma's Rest, where their position in the tribe will change from adolescent to adult. <br><br>
It is at this time that tias are considered 'old enough' to start challenging nunhs in earnest, though some unruly adolescent males attempt it prior to their Hunt. It is at this time also that females will change the embroidery on their clothing to indicate they are open to being courted by one of the nunhs, though again, younger females occasionally are mated to nunhs prior to their Hunt or Song, particularly during seasons of war.

===Family Structure and Children===

As with other Keepers of the Sun, the Coeurl tribe keeps to the traditions of having a limited number of males who breed, known as 'nunh's and a larger number of non-breeding males known as 'tia's. In the three villages, the number of nunhs is never greater than four and currently sits at three in each village, with approximately ten to fifteen tias per village. <br><br>
The number of tias include adolescent boys and old men out of their prime but still technically of breeding age and so may seem inflated. It does not include the two males on each Council, nor the males of extreme age, as they are no longer considered competition for the nunhs.<br><br>
Each nunh typically is mated to roughly ten females of breeding age, though that number is somewhat fluid depending on the females of the village and the nunh's efforts to maintain the relationships beyond simple breeding. <br><br>
Typically, the females live in communal housing, sharing the hunting, gathering, cooking, and child-rearing duties amongst one another, with the very young and very old tias assisting. Each member of a nunh's household is considered family despite previous blood ties, with the females of a household referring to one another as 'sisters' or 'mothers' and the tias of a village either 'little brother' or 'uncle' depending on youth or age. The council members are always 'grandmother/father' depending on sex. The nunhs are typically not referred to in this familial manner, whether due to incest taboos or due to some honorary status attached to their names it is not clear. <br><br>
Childrearing is a communal process that begins after the cub's eighth day after birth. Prior to that day, the mother and cub are separated from the rest of the tribe and visited by the jali daily so that they may rest and be kept safe from negative influences. On the eighth day, the cub is presented to the tribe and the jali performs a brief ritual so that the elemental spirits will reveal the cub's name. The name is then typically not used in daily life, most Coeurl preferring nicknames or petnames until the cub is old enough to undergo their coming of age ritual.

====Courtship====

The courtship rituals of the Coeurl tribe are varied but are based on exogenous systems- it is taboo to join with a nunh within one's village. Therefore, holidays such as Azeyma's Rest and Azeyma's Rising are extremely important cultural exchanges wherein the females of the villages meet the nunhs and tias of their neighbors. Dancing is a common form of flirting, with the females dancing before the nunhs and the nunhs dancing before the females in turn in displays of strength, skill, beauty, and sexual prowess. As mentioned previously, such displays are common on Azeyma's Rest.<br><br>
When a nunh decides upon a female he would like to court, he will typically give her a small gift- jewelry is common, as are small embroidered or woven swatches of cloth, or for the martially inclined female, beautifully inlaid or filigreed small weapons like knives. Once the gift is received and accepted, the nunh will then stage a ceremonial kidnapping of the female from her ton, typically with the elder member of the communal dwelling's approval. If the kidnapping is done well, the female will move her things the next morning from the ton into the communal housing of the nunh's other mates. If the female is disappointed in the kidnapping, the gift, or the nunh in any way, she will petition one of the tias of her village, who will arrive to return her home to her village. <br><br>
The concepts of marriage and divorce are not followed in the tribe, though they are aware of such things existing. If a female feels neglected or displeased with the nunh she is mated to, she may leave his dwelling and either return to her village or, if another nunh is courting her, she may be ceremonially kidnapped from her current nunh. This typically occurs with younger females that have not yet borne cubs that are mated to older nunhs and often heralds a nunh being challenged.

====Nunhs and Tias====

When a tia decides to challenge a nunh for breeding rights, there are a few ways in which the Coeurl tribe typically settles such challenges. It is the nunh's right to choose the weapon and the tia's right to choose the terms- first outside the circle, to first blood, etc. It is strictly taboo for a challenge to occur during a time of war, though it is not unheard of for a tia to take advantage of the chaos of combat to eliminate a rival and petition for their position. Typical challenges occur during spring and summer, with the most common forms of combat being wrestling matches (claws and teeth being absolutely necessary for the Coeurl version of this sport), swordplay to first blood, even games of skill such as a game called ''Oware'', which is played on a board with several pits and small glass beads.<br><br>
If a tia is defeated, they lose face for a short time (particularly if extremely cocky) but can work themselves back into the good graces of the tribe relatively easily. It is generally seen as extremely poor judgement for multiple tias to challenge a nunh back to back and should the Council suspect that tias have banded together to take out a nunh they may punish the offenders extremely severely- exile being the accepted punishment.<br><br>
Should a nunh lose his place in the village, he will be taken in as a respected tia but the females in his dwelling typically return to their respective villages with their cubs where they will move in with their mothers or go to the tons where they lived prior to joining with the nunh. The new nunh must go about the courtship rituals from the beginning and establish himself anew.

===Warfare===
The Coeurl tribe is typically peaceful amongst themselves. They have a long and bloody history of warfare with the lizard beastmen the amal'jaa to the east as well as minor skirmishes with other miqo'te tribes and the occasional bandit troupe that attempts to encroach upon their very large territory. This includes pirates attempting to use the Bay of Dha'yuz as a safe bearth. As a result of this, the tribe has learned to translate their natural speed, hearing, and sense of smell into powerful guerilla-warfare style combat.<br><br>
Considering one of the tribe's tons is focused entirely on hand-to-hand combat (the warriors) and another is focused on archery and tracking, the Coeurl tribe is skilled in using small groups of combatants to surround an enemy, whereupon they flush them and using silent or near-silent communcation, they force their enemy into running combat whenever possible, picking them off. When the enemy stands to face them or proves to be better armed or armored, the tribe uses their knowledge of the land to set up traps, not above using their own or one of their enemies as bait.<br><br>
Typically, the Coeurl tribe does not have any residents with the ability to call upon magical forces, though the occasional prodigy has been known to occur. Such usually leaves the tribe during their period of Hunting the World. It is not unheard of for there to be one or more members of the tribe with the skill to summon manifestations of the elementals, however, and the jali are generally recognized as skilled healers- whether due to a knowledge of herbs, spices, and other primitive alchemy or due to a skill at conjury is not clear at this time.<br><br>
In battle, the Coeurl tribe will often paint themselves with dark blue symbols and stain the pads and claws of their hands so that should they be unarmed, they still strike with the power of the spirits.

====Ritual Weapons====

The Coeurl tribe practices a unique battle ritual in that they will only use certain materials in weapons used to kill enemies versus weapons used to hunt. The belief is that hunting is a sacred rite, as is battle, and each must adhere to it's own ways. A hunting bow, for instance, may be strung with the gut of one of the miqo'te's first kills, whereas a war bow will be strung with the hair of the first enemy to be successfully faced.

===Death===

The tribe's view on death is one of renewal- death is part of the cycle of life and therefore the spirit of the dead must be encouraged to walk on. Upon the death of a village member, the village will gather to cremate the body. Upon cremation, it is fervently wished that the deceased miqo'te will go on to “live in the Warden's warmth”. The ashes are then taken and used in the casting of several small bells which are hung in the windows and doorways of the deceased's former home or ton, where the desert wind will cause them to ring joyfully and remind those still living of the brightness of the life beyond.

===Impact of Outside Cultures===

The Coeurl tribe are not located terribly far from Ul'dah. As a result of their proximity to this large, bustling city, many of the younger members of the tribe who leave on their Hunt or Song leave and do not return. Whether they are lured away from the tribal society by the larger promise of riches, fame, and adventure or victimized due to their naivete is not clear, however it is certain that each year a few Coeurl adolescents do not return from their rite of passage.<br><br>
Overall, the Coeurl tribe takes on a somewhat conflicting approach to the outside world. “ I against my brother, my brothers and I against my cousins, then my cousins and I against strangers.” is a common tribal saying but the concept of ''diyafa'' or hospitality is deeply ingrained into the Coeurl. Even an enemy that requests hospitality is granted it and to turn one that asks away is a deeply shameful act. The villagers seem to be most content to have the greater world held at arm's distance but will not hesitate to welcome it should it pass their gates.<br><br>
That is not to say that the tribe is a dying one. The tribe has learned many things due to the process of the Song/Hunt and since the Calamity they have taken in orphans and members from the more nomadic tribes in the area that were displaced when the Deepvoid appeared. As a result, the tribe is currently in a state of some flux, with changes being made to previously rigid systems. It is uncertain whether the Coeurl tribe of current day and the Coeurl tribe of the future will resemble one another at all.

==Art and Music==

===Dress===

The Coeurl tribe favors loose, flowing clothing, dyed or woven with a variety of bright colors. After the coming of age ritual, the villagers each have a ''tagelmust'' or combination turban/veil that is embroidered more and more elaborately throughout their life. Typically, the tagelmust is dyed a bright blue using a method that requires the dyer to pound the color into the cloth due to the lack of readily available water. As the miqo'te grows, they add embroidery to the headscarf until it is so thickly embroidered with the details of their deeds that the original blue is almost invisible.

====Weaving====

The members of the weaver's ton of the Coeurl tribe have learned a great deal from the outside world, especially Ul'dah, and have become quite adept at using their natural dexterity to create elaborate designs where each color has it's own meaning. The tribe has become known in certain circles for the brilliance of their colors and the delicacy of it's designs and trade relations have tentatively begun to export the Coeurl weaving into Ul'dah.<br><br>
Some of the colors and themes common in Coeurl textile work are:
{|
|-
| valign=”top” |
* Light blue- spiritual ties, lightning
* Dark blue- strength, power in battle
* Gold/Orange- fertility, joy, glory; associated with Azeyma
| valighn=”top” |
* Purple- femininity, fertility
* Green- healing, growth, purity
* Black- festivals, spiritual energy
|}

====Jewelry====

Jewelry is common for both males and females in the Coeurl tribe, with designs varying but trending towards the abstract and elaborate. The tribe favors the use of symbols to evoke adages, old stories, and folk heros, and these symbols are very popular in jewelry. Crystals, gemstones, and precious metals are all common, with most jewelry being made using either the lost-wax casting method or the filigree method, both of which favor delicate designs and allow for a great deal of intricacy.<br><br>
The village nunhs each carry a ceremonial weapon that is more appropriately considered a piece of jewelry. A sword created out of fulgarite glass- the glass that is made when lightning hits sand. Carefully crafted by the best swordsmiths in the villages, these swords are passed on when the nunhs are challenged and are a symbol of both their strength and the fragility of their position in the tribe.<br><br>
Females tend to favor small bells around wrists and ankles when in the village.<br><br>
At this time, the miners of Ul'dah have not realized that the sands around the Coeurl villages are rich in naturally occuring gold and precious stones.

===Tattoos===

Much like the jewelry, the tattoos of the Coeurl tribe trend towards abstract symbols with deeper meanings. Most members of the tribe are tattooed in one form or another, many receiving their tattoos at their coming of age ceremony and adding to them after their Hunt/Song. It is common in the tribe to receive tattoos on the face, across the cheeks and nose, as well as on the upper arms and across the shoulders.

===Music===

====Common Instruments====
The Coeurl tribe favors percussion instruments, several different kinds of drums being common among the villages. Each village has a very large drum meant to be used as a message relay system, all the way down to very small bongo-style drum sets held between the knees. Each of the three villages have a sacred drum that the jali uses when doing ritual songs, made of cactuar with coeurl hide. These drums are believed to beat with the sacred heart of the coeurl itself and have been carefully tended by the jali over many generations.<br><br>
Besides the drums, instruments like bells and bone flutes are common, with many of the tribe adorning wrists, ankles, ears, and tails with small tinkling accessories to create a musical counterpoint to the heavy percussion common in their dances.<br><br>
The Coeurl tribe also use their voices in various ululations and calls, having a much wider range of vocalizations than the Hyur, Roegadyn, or Lalafell.

====Dance====

Dance is an extremely important part of Coeurl culture. It is part of their courtship rituals, part of their coming of age rituals, part of their religious rites, and a part of their spiritual life. Most Coeurl dances involve the entire body from the tips of their ears to the ends of their toes and are driven by strong percussion created by drums and footpads hitting the earth.<br><br>
In a species where communication can be subtly changed by ear and tail position, the ears and tails of the Coeurl are a big part of many of their story-dances, used to evoke emotions while the face is hidden by a mask or the hands.

Coeurl ceremonial garb is worn during their dances and there are a multitude of different dances for males, females, and both.

[[Category:Troupe]]

Falling Stars Tribe

2019-07-11T20:31:36Z

Anstarra: /* A sept sequestered */

{{speculation}}

Please note: This page is a Work In Progress based off the template used by the Coeurl Tribe

The '''Falling Stars Tribe''', an off-shoot of the [[:Category: Miqo'te Seeker of the Sun|Seekers of the Sun]] sub-race of [[Miqo'te]], are a historically insular tribe located in the tundra to the northeast of [[Coerthas]], in the lee of the mountains of [[Xelphatol]]. Until a few Turns ago, very few knew of the tribe's existence, but in recent times due to the expansionist ambitions of their now-deceased Nunh, they came into conflict with the city-states of [[Eorzea]]. Now, a peace has been established, and the once-xenophobic Falling Stars have taken an exploratory interest in the world beyond their borders.

{| style= "width: 200px; height: 200px; float: right;" border="1"
| '''Race''' : [[Miqo'te]]
| '''Clan''' : Seekers of the Sun
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Population''' : ~400
| '''Number of Septs''' : 3
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Religion''' : [[Azeyma, the Warden]]; the Eight; the Fallen Nunh
| '''Naming Conventions''' : X' (pronounced ''she'')
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Location''' : North of the Black Shroud and east of Coerthas, in the tundra around the mountains of Xelphatol.
|}

==History==

As with the rest of their species, the Lynx tribe arrived in [[Eorzea]] in the Fifth Umbral Era, when ice bridges were created across continents. The ancestors of the current tribe followed not only their traditional prey but also the visions of their tribal leaders and the beast that they revered, the lynx. During the end of the Fifth Umbral Era, when the ice began to melt, the tribe migrated to the north and eastern portion of Eorzea, preferring the more northern climes associated with their totem. Much of the tribe remained essentially nomadic, though each claimed their territories in various parts of the more northern regions of [[Aldenard]]. <br>

===A sept sequestered===
During the War of the Magi, in the waning years of the Fifth Astral Era, a cabal of Nymian scholars broke away from the city-state. It is unknown whether they were exiled for unsound practices, or needed secrecy and privacy to complete their work; what is known is that they constructed a subterranean bunker and research station dedicated to discovering the secrets of immortality which came to be known as the Crucible of Knowledge (or simply the Crucible). Seeing their work as their people's only chance to survive the War of the Magi, these scholars made use of the resources they could find, in the form of an isolated sept of Lynx tribe miqo'te.<br>
The lore of the Falling Stars states that the experiments performed upon their ancestors were done against their will. The tonberry Ibes Habes, survivor of the city-state proper, insists that his fellows would never have stooped to such barbarity (though it is worth noting that Habes to this day seems to consider miqo'te to be little more than beasts, so the impartiality of his recollection is subject to some doubt). Regardless of how it began, the experiments were long-running and kept fiercely isolated from contamination, necessitating profound adjustments to the aetherial makeup of the subjects over a series of generations. Their aetherial pathways were completely rerouted, resulting in hardy, resilient spoken whose bodies were highly susceptible to and able to recover from further aetherial manipulation; the downside was that this internal focus rendered them incapable of expressing aether beyond their own bodies in anything but the most basic transmission. In essence, though capable of channeling aether through their own bodies, the Falling Stars are fundamentally incapable of wielding external magic (such as thaumaturgy, conjury, etc).<br>
A side-benefit, of interest to the scholars, was an extremely high resilience against bio-aetherial degradation, which, in addition to rendering their bodies proof against early ravages of ageing, also insulates them against potential deleterious effects of inbreeding.. a valuable trait for multi-generation research subjects.<br>

===The flight of the Falling Stars===
After an unknown time (though scattered notes suggest it was at least several decades, possibly as much as a century), the subjects rose up in rebellion. Legend states that a powerful male leader, whose name was lost and is only known of as The First Nunh, stirred his brethren into a bloody insurrection which resulted in the total massacre of the scholars and the flight of the miqo'te from the Crucible. The First Nunh led them to follow the trail of a falling star to the east, which brought the fleeing tribals into the lee of [[Xelphatol]] just in time for the calamitous Great Flood which would spell the end of the Fifth Astral Era. When the waters receded, the miqo'te descended from the mountains and settled into the new tundra, founding the Home Sept of the newly-named Falling Stars Tribe.<br>

===History of the Falling Stars with the Ixal, and Other Outsiders===
Due to their proximity to the mountains of Xelphatol, the native home of the avian beastmen known as the Ixal, the Falling Stars have had a history of open warfare and savage hostility with the beastman. It cannot be denied that the miqo'te tribals were the first to invade the lands of the Ixal, even if it was in the name of surviving the Great Flood, and that from the first little to no effort was made toward diplomacy. Their time in captivity had instilled into the Falling Stars an intense xenophobia, teaching them that "Outsiders" could never be trusted. To this day, Warriors of the tribe adorn themselves with trophies claimed from the birdmen, from feathers to talons and eyes.<br>
The hostility of the Falling Stars extended toward all Outsiders. Though natives of other neighboring lands rarely had reason to venture forth in the bleak tundra of their home, invariably any who were discovered were seen as threats and treated no better than the Ixal. Their knowledge of their home land, coupled with their physical prowess and disinclination to wander, had kept the existence of the sept concealed for over fifteen centuries... <br>

===A new age===

WIP AFTER THIS POINT

==Culture==

A note regarding the Coeurl culture at large and methods of communication in specific. Due to their proximity and the harshness of the environment they have carved their villages out of, the Coeurl have developed highly subtle forms of silent and near-silent communication using facial expressions, ear placement, and tail and hand motions. They use this form of communication amongst each other and to recognize one another while out in the world at large. As this is their default form of communication, when Coeurl tribe members are in society at large they are often regarded as somewhat twitchy.

===Politics===
Each of the three villages in the Coeurl tribe follows a system of government whereby five of the eldest members of the village- three females past child-bearing age and two males past hunting age- come together to discuss the good of the village. It is this Council that determines whether or not to declare proper war, when to look to new hunting grounds, and mediates disputes involving other villages, disputes between the various traditional ''ton'' (vocation-based fraternities and sororities), and disputes between nunhs. It is also this Council that determines which members of the tribe will be considered as 'Ankobia' and 'Master Hunter' (the titles are the same regardless of sex) and are qualified to lead the younger warriors and hunters, respectively, through their training.

===The Jali===
The position of bardpriest, known as ''jali'' is an important one in the villages of the Coeurl tribe both politically and spiritually. She plays the role of historian, mediator in minor arguments, spiritual bridge between the tribe and the elementals and the goddess, song-singer, dance teacher, and psychopomp along the rites of passage. <br><br>
The jali position is always held by a female and is passed only to female progeny as it requires too much movement between villages and into the outer world to be held by a tia or a nunh, who must be present in the village in order to protect it. <br><br>
Each village has it's own jali, however the jali of each village is expected to travel into the other villages as well as into the outer world frequently in order to maintain positive relations with the spirits and to learn the stories that are their stock in trade. Whenever one village's jali is gone, the other two jalis and their daughters are expected to pick up the duties. The only time all three jalis are required to be in the villages are during the two great festivals.<br><br>
The jali of the three villages are related. When the tribe crossed the ice in the 5th Umbral Era, one female had the ability that is now called 'The Echo'. She had three daughters. Over time, those three daughters have either raised or adopted daughters with that same ability so that they can trace their lineage in an unbroken line back to the first. The Echo has manifested in various different ways, leading to the jali's various duties. The current jali of the three villages consider one another sisters and have raised their daughters to do the same.

===Religion===
As with most of their sub-race, the Coeurl tribe worships the sun goddess [[Azeyma, the Warden]]. In her honor they consider themselves the ''warriors of the clouds'' and celebrate two large festivals annually. The tribe also reveres multiple manifestations of elemental spirits- fire and water being two elements of greater importance due to the villages' desert lifestyle. The reverence for the coeurl has made that figure a creature of folk tales, morality stories, as well as an intercessor between the tribe and Azeyma.

====Azeyma's Rest====
Azeyma's Rest is the summer solstice, when the Coeurl tribe believes that Azeyma shines her brightest before beginning to hide her radiant face behind her fan. It is a day to celebrate accomplishments of the year, to show one's strength, fertility, joy, and pride to the shining face of the Warden. It is often celebrated with elaborate dances, songs testifying the accomplishments of the tribe as a whole as well as individual members, and many times it is this day when young tias will attempt to challenge the nunhs of their village.<br><br>
On the day of Azeyma's Rest, the Coeurl tribe's largest number of courtship rituals are acted out. While a small number of rituals occur on other days of the year, it is considered good luck to be courted on the longest day of the year, as it is believed that Azeyma will bless the pairing with fertility and will allow the new female to join her sisters with that nunh in good harmony.<br><br>
Previously, there was a ritual enacted on Azeyma's Rest wherein a tia was chosen by the Council, sent into the wilds for 24 hours with nothing to eat or drink and no weapons. Should he return, he would be granted nunh status for that shortest night of the year and that night only and he should have his choice of any of the women of the tribe who would accept him, as they believed him to be blessed by Azeyma herself. Should a child be born of that symbolic union, they were almost universally heterochromic, a symbol of great importance to the Coeurl tribe and, indeed, the Seekers of the Sun as a whole. This ritual has largely fallen out of favor (at least publically) due to outside pressures from visitors to the tribe, who consider the practice overly superstitious. <br><br>
Azeyma's Rest is considered a holiday primarily celebrating the masculine elements of the tribe, with music, dancing, and story-telling following this theme. It is occasionally referred to as the 'male's new year'.

====Azeyma's Rising====
Azeyma's Rising falls on the winter solstice, near the end of the rainy season, when the Coeurl tribe believes that the Warden is beginning to rise from her long period of resting and is finally prepared to draw back her fan. As compared to the more boisterous celebrations of Azeyma's Rest, Azyema's Rising is a deeply spiritual holiday and is focused on preparing of one's self and one's village to move into the brightness of the Warden's light once more- and to be worthy of it. A holiday focusing on relationships between the spirits and the 'real' world, each village's cubs perform a ritual dance for which they have practiced for months wherein they form a chain that resembled a great fork of lightning striking through the three villages, moving from one all the way across the other two, until each dwelling and gathering place has been touched by their footpads- which have been stained a pale blue by grinding a flower that grows only in the rainy season.<br><br>
This same pale blue stain will be re-applied to the gates that stand at the entrance to each village, a symbolic rekindling of the bond between the Coeurl people and the lightning-bearing creature they revere.<br><br>
When the sun has set, many lanterns are lit and great feasts are prepared, and the village's female shaman and bard, known as a ''jali'', will step forward and begin to tell one of the stories of how Azeyma came by her fan. In the most popular version, the Warden's radiance was so dazzling the Miqo'te people became lost and wandered in the desert. They would have died had it not been for a great coeurl queen, who saw the brilliant goddess and took pity on the plight of the Miqo'te people, slipping between them and the shining sun's light. The coeurl's fur was burned black wherever the lady's eyes fell, like sunspots left behind one's closed eyes, but the lady was inspired, and fashioned herself a fan to shield her chosen people.<br><br>
Once the story is told, the jali will partake of a drug to send herself into a light trance as the village sings and dances tributes to the coeurl and Azeyma. While in said trance, the jali will attempt to seek the elemental spirits of fire, water, and (should she be lucky) the coeurl itself to ask for a year of abundant game, healthy childbearing, and safe passage for the cubs passing into adulthood.<br><br>
Given the deeply spiritual nature of this holiday as well as it's focus on beginnings, Azeyma's Rising is themed around the feminine and is considered the 'female's new year'.

===Rites of Passage===

When a miqo'te cub of the Coeurl tribe approaches their twelfth name-day, they are considered to be coming of age.<br><br>
At this time, the youth is taken aside by the Council and the jali of their village and is taught the history of their people and the ritual songs and dances of passage. They are also placed in seclusion until they complete the ritual items that will show the villages their change in status. Males and females both embroider their vests and headscarves and both sexes must complete the creation of basic weaponry- often a bow and arrows or a spear- for the final portion of the ritual. <br><br>
Once the weaponry is fashioned and the dances and songs have been learned to the Council and bardpriest's satisfaction, the youth is sent out into the desert of Thanalan for one full day and one full night. They are not given food nor water, having to find these things on their own. Many Coeurl tribesmembers relate that they are given visions during this time, shown the way to prey or to water sources by elemental spirits, by the coeurl, or by following the shadow of Azeyma's fan.<br><br>
When the youth returns to the village at dawn, they are gifted with their embroidered clothing, feasted, and welcomed into the adolescent world. A small celebration is thrown in their village and the youth must sing and dance what they have learned both from the jali and on their spiritual and survival journey into the wilds of the desert. When the celebration is over, the youth is free to choose a ton, to leave the communal housing of their mothers, and to learn a trade. It is at this time that tattooing is common, with many Coeurl adolescents choosing to get tattoos on their faces or elsewhere detailing their journey into the wild.

====The 'Ton'====

The ton are the communities within the villages of adolescent male and female miqo'te that are learning a trade. All of the ton are open to both sexes, however living arrangements are divided into male and female communal housing with an elder member of the ton so as to discourage courting or unsupervised pairings. The ton are used much like the outer world uses their various schools- there is a warrior's ton where the adolescents will learn the arts of war, tactics, how to weild various weapons, and how to work in a team, a hunter's ton that focuses on archery and tracking, a cooking ton, a weaver's ton, et cetera. <br><br>
The only profession that does not have a ton is that of the jali. This profession is passed down strictly through bloodlines due to the extensive amount of training required to learn the songs, dances, and rituals. The adolescent progeny of the jali in the villages are encouraged to join other tons, however their studies as the future bardpriest in the village take precedence. <br><br>
The warrior's ton is an excellent example of how tons work in Coeurl society. An adolescent joins at the lowest level, the ''Sword Bearer'' or ''Afena''. At this level, the adolescent warrior is given a mock wooden weapon and is typically treated as a runner, expected to learn by being silent and watching their elders. They perform many of the chores of the communal housing in order to learn discipline. They typically spar only with other Afena. In war, the Afena are camp runners, thus the title sword-bearer. The next level is ''Apprentice'' or ''Adum''. Upon graduating to apprentice level, the warrior has been taken under the wing of a older student and is given a blunted metal weapon and begins being taught tactics, the way of fighting that the Coeurl tribe favors. Adum are allowed to request sparring sessions with members of their own rank as well as the rank above them. They still perform chores but usually only do those related to attending to their mentors. In war, the Adum act as squires, sticking close to their mentors and providing for any and every need. The next rank in the ton is ''Warrior'' or ''Asafo''- these are the bulk of the fighting force of the village and are adults in the tribe that have undergone their adulthood rite of passage and returned to become mentors in the ton. Very rarely a nunh will be a part of this rank, however it is mostly made up of tias and females not currently bearing cubs. The final rank is the head of the warrior ton as well as the de facto general in times of war, the ''Ankobia''. This rank is chosen by the Council from the best warriors in the ton and is typically held until resignation or death in battle.<br><br>
The non-combat focused tons, such as the weaver's ton or the cooking ton, have slightly different structures and graduation standards, however they generally hold to the same idea as the more martial tons. The biggest difference is that the heads of these tons are not appointed by the Council but are chosen by the ton in an internal vote held among the adult members of the group.

====Singing/Hunting the World====

The final ritual most Coeurl tribespeople undergo is that of Hunting the World (called Singing the World for the daughters of jali). It is a relatively new rite, begun when Ul'dah began being settled so close to their traditional hunting grounds which introduced the tribe to many new people and new cultures. The legend goes that after several failed raids on the fledgling city, attempting to drive the intruders off thier territory, the three Councils met and it was decided that the tribe would approach the settlers as an opportunity.<br><br>
The ritual occurs when an adolescent miqo'te has reached the second rank in his or her ton- or in the case of the jali's heir, when her mother has determined it to be time. At this time, the mentor that has been guiding the miqo'te will gift them with a simple weapon, rations, and a piece of clothing embroidered with symbols for protection and knowledge. The youth is encouraged to travel as far and wide as they can in order to bring back some new piece of knowledge relevant to not just their ton but all of the tons, whether it is a new recipe, a new way of sword crafting, or a new song. Once they have hunted new prey across the four corners of Eorzea, they are to return to their village and present their findings on the next Azeyma's Rest, where their position in the tribe will change from adolescent to adult. <br><br>
It is at this time that tias are considered 'old enough' to start challenging nunhs in earnest, though some unruly adolescent males attempt it prior to their Hunt. It is at this time also that females will change the embroidery on their clothing to indicate they are open to being courted by one of the nunhs, though again, younger females occasionally are mated to nunhs prior to their Hunt or Song, particularly during seasons of war.

===Family Structure and Children===

As with other Keepers of the Sun, the Coeurl tribe keeps to the traditions of having a limited number of males who breed, known as 'nunh's and a larger number of non-breeding males known as 'tia's. In the three villages, the number of nunhs is never greater than four and currently sits at three in each village, with approximately ten to fifteen tias per village. <br><br>
The number of tias include adolescent boys and old men out of their prime but still technically of breeding age and so may seem inflated. It does not include the two males on each Council, nor the males of extreme age, as they are no longer considered competition for the nunhs.<br><br>
Each nunh typically is mated to roughly ten females of breeding age, though that number is somewhat fluid depending on the females of the village and the nunh's efforts to maintain the relationships beyond simple breeding. <br><br>
Typically, the females live in communal housing, sharing the hunting, gathering, cooking, and child-rearing duties amongst one another, with the very young and very old tias assisting. Each member of a nunh's household is considered family despite previous blood ties, with the females of a household referring to one another as 'sisters' or 'mothers' and the tias of a village either 'little brother' or 'uncle' depending on youth or age. The council members are always 'grandmother/father' depending on sex. The nunhs are typically not referred to in this familial manner, whether due to incest taboos or due to some honorary status attached to their names it is not clear. <br><br>
Childrearing is a communal process that begins after the cub's eighth day after birth. Prior to that day, the mother and cub are separated from the rest of the tribe and visited by the jali daily so that they may rest and be kept safe from negative influences. On the eighth day, the cub is presented to the tribe and the jali performs a brief ritual so that the elemental spirits will reveal the cub's name. The name is then typically not used in daily life, most Coeurl preferring nicknames or petnames until the cub is old enough to undergo their coming of age ritual.

====Courtship====

The courtship rituals of the Coeurl tribe are varied but are based on exogenous systems- it is taboo to join with a nunh within one's village. Therefore, holidays such as Azeyma's Rest and Azeyma's Rising are extremely important cultural exchanges wherein the females of the villages meet the nunhs and tias of their neighbors. Dancing is a common form of flirting, with the females dancing before the nunhs and the nunhs dancing before the females in turn in displays of strength, skill, beauty, and sexual prowess. As mentioned previously, such displays are common on Azeyma's Rest.<br><br>
When a nunh decides upon a female he would like to court, he will typically give her a small gift- jewelry is common, as are small embroidered or woven swatches of cloth, or for the martially inclined female, beautifully inlaid or filigreed small weapons like knives. Once the gift is received and accepted, the nunh will then stage a ceremonial kidnapping of the female from her ton, typically with the elder member of the communal dwelling's approval. If the kidnapping is done well, the female will move her things the next morning from the ton into the communal housing of the nunh's other mates. If the female is disappointed in the kidnapping, the gift, or the nunh in any way, she will petition one of the tias of her village, who will arrive to return her home to her village. <br><br>
The concepts of marriage and divorce are not followed in the tribe, though they are aware of such things existing. If a female feels neglected or displeased with the nunh she is mated to, she may leave his dwelling and either return to her village or, if another nunh is courting her, she may be ceremonially kidnapped from her current nunh. This typically occurs with younger females that have not yet borne cubs that are mated to older nunhs and often heralds a nunh being challenged.

====Nunhs and Tias====

When a tia decides to challenge a nunh for breeding rights, there are a few ways in which the Coeurl tribe typically settles such challenges. It is the nunh's right to choose the weapon and the tia's right to choose the terms- first outside the circle, to first blood, etc. It is strictly taboo for a challenge to occur during a time of war, though it is not unheard of for a tia to take advantage of the chaos of combat to eliminate a rival and petition for their position. Typical challenges occur during spring and summer, with the most common forms of combat being wrestling matches (claws and teeth being absolutely necessary for the Coeurl version of this sport), swordplay to first blood, even games of skill such as a game called ''Oware'', which is played on a board with several pits and small glass beads.<br><br>
If a tia is defeated, they lose face for a short time (particularly if extremely cocky) but can work themselves back into the good graces of the tribe relatively easily. It is generally seen as extremely poor judgement for multiple tias to challenge a nunh back to back and should the Council suspect that tias have banded together to take out a nunh they may punish the offenders extremely severely- exile being the accepted punishment.<br><br>
Should a nunh lose his place in the village, he will be taken in as a respected tia but the females in his dwelling typically return to their respective villages with their cubs where they will move in with their mothers or go to the tons where they lived prior to joining with the nunh. The new nunh must go about the courtship rituals from the beginning and establish himself anew.

===Warfare===
The Coeurl tribe is typically peaceful amongst themselves. They have a long and bloody history of warfare with the lizard beastmen the amal'jaa to the east as well as minor skirmishes with other miqo'te tribes and the occasional bandit troupe that attempts to encroach upon their very large territory. This includes pirates attempting to use the Bay of Dha'yuz as a safe bearth. As a result of this, the tribe has learned to translate their natural speed, hearing, and sense of smell into powerful guerilla-warfare style combat.<br><br>
Considering one of the tribe's tons is focused entirely on hand-to-hand combat (the warriors) and another is focused on archery and tracking, the Coeurl tribe is skilled in using small groups of combatants to surround an enemy, whereupon they flush them and using silent or near-silent communcation, they force their enemy into running combat whenever possible, picking them off. When the enemy stands to face them or proves to be better armed or armored, the tribe uses their knowledge of the land to set up traps, not above using their own or one of their enemies as bait.<br><br>
Typically, the Coeurl tribe does not have any residents with the ability to call upon magical forces, though the occasional prodigy has been known to occur. Such usually leaves the tribe during their period of Hunting the World. It is not unheard of for there to be one or more members of the tribe with the skill to summon manifestations of the elementals, however, and the jali are generally recognized as skilled healers- whether due to a knowledge of herbs, spices, and other primitive alchemy or due to a skill at conjury is not clear at this time.<br><br>
In battle, the Coeurl tribe will often paint themselves with dark blue symbols and stain the pads and claws of their hands so that should they be unarmed, they still strike with the power of the spirits.

====Ritual Weapons====

The Coeurl tribe practices a unique battle ritual in that they will only use certain materials in weapons used to kill enemies versus weapons used to hunt. The belief is that hunting is a sacred rite, as is battle, and each must adhere to it's own ways. A hunting bow, for instance, may be strung with the gut of one of the miqo'te's first kills, whereas a war bow will be strung with the hair of the first enemy to be successfully faced.

===Death===

The tribe's view on death is one of renewal- death is part of the cycle of life and therefore the spirit of the dead must be encouraged to walk on. Upon the death of a village member, the village will gather to cremate the body. Upon cremation, it is fervently wished that the deceased miqo'te will go on to “live in the Warden's warmth”. The ashes are then taken and used in the casting of several small bells which are hung in the windows and doorways of the deceased's former home or ton, where the desert wind will cause them to ring joyfully and remind those still living of the brightness of the life beyond.

===Impact of Outside Cultures===

The Coeurl tribe are not located terribly far from Ul'dah. As a result of their proximity to this large, bustling city, many of the younger members of the tribe who leave on their Hunt or Song leave and do not return. Whether they are lured away from the tribal society by the larger promise of riches, fame, and adventure or victimized due to their naivete is not clear, however it is certain that each year a few Coeurl adolescents do not return from their rite of passage.<br><br>
Overall, the Coeurl tribe takes on a somewhat conflicting approach to the outside world. “ I against my brother, my brothers and I against my cousins, then my cousins and I against strangers.” is a common tribal saying but the concept of ''diyafa'' or hospitality is deeply ingrained into the Coeurl. Even an enemy that requests hospitality is granted it and to turn one that asks away is a deeply shameful act. The villagers seem to be most content to have the greater world held at arm's distance but will not hesitate to welcome it should it pass their gates.<br><br>
That is not to say that the tribe is a dying one. The tribe has learned many things due to the process of the Song/Hunt and since the Calamity they have taken in orphans and members from the more nomadic tribes in the area that were displaced when the Deepvoid appeared. As a result, the tribe is currently in a state of some flux, with changes being made to previously rigid systems. It is uncertain whether the Coeurl tribe of current day and the Coeurl tribe of the future will resemble one another at all.

==Art and Music==

===Dress===

The Coeurl tribe favors loose, flowing clothing, dyed or woven with a variety of bright colors. After the coming of age ritual, the villagers each have a ''tagelmust'' or combination turban/veil that is embroidered more and more elaborately throughout their life. Typically, the tagelmust is dyed a bright blue using a method that requires the dyer to pound the color into the cloth due to the lack of readily available water. As the miqo'te grows, they add embroidery to the headscarf until it is so thickly embroidered with the details of their deeds that the original blue is almost invisible.

====Weaving====

The members of the weaver's ton of the Coeurl tribe have learned a great deal from the outside world, especially Ul'dah, and have become quite adept at using their natural dexterity to create elaborate designs where each color has it's own meaning. The tribe has become known in certain circles for the brilliance of their colors and the delicacy of it's designs and trade relations have tentatively begun to export the Coeurl weaving into Ul'dah.<br><br>
Some of the colors and themes common in Coeurl textile work are:
{|
|-
| valign=”top” |
* Light blue- spiritual ties, lightning
* Dark blue- strength, power in battle
* Gold/Orange- fertility, joy, glory; associated with Azeyma
| valighn=”top” |
* Purple- femininity, fertility
* Green- healing, growth, purity
* Black- festivals, spiritual energy
|}

====Jewelry====

Jewelry is common for both males and females in the Coeurl tribe, with designs varying but trending towards the abstract and elaborate. The tribe favors the use of symbols to evoke adages, old stories, and folk heros, and these symbols are very popular in jewelry. Crystals, gemstones, and precious metals are all common, with most jewelry being made using either the lost-wax casting method or the filigree method, both of which favor delicate designs and allow for a great deal of intricacy.<br><br>
The village nunhs each carry a ceremonial weapon that is more appropriately considered a piece of jewelry. A sword created out of fulgarite glass- the glass that is made when lightning hits sand. Carefully crafted by the best swordsmiths in the villages, these swords are passed on when the nunhs are challenged and are a symbol of both their strength and the fragility of their position in the tribe.<br><br>
Females tend to favor small bells around wrists and ankles when in the village.<br><br>
At this time, the miners of Ul'dah have not realized that the sands around the Coeurl villages are rich in naturally occuring gold and precious stones.

===Tattoos===

Much like the jewelry, the tattoos of the Coeurl tribe trend towards abstract symbols with deeper meanings. Most members of the tribe are tattooed in one form or another, many receiving their tattoos at their coming of age ceremony and adding to them after their Hunt/Song. It is common in the tribe to receive tattoos on the face, across the cheeks and nose, as well as on the upper arms and across the shoulders.

===Music===

====Common Instruments====
The Coeurl tribe favors percussion instruments, several different kinds of drums being common among the villages. Each village has a very large drum meant to be used as a message relay system, all the way down to very small bongo-style drum sets held between the knees. Each of the three villages have a sacred drum that the jali uses when doing ritual songs, made of cactuar with coeurl hide. These drums are believed to beat with the sacred heart of the coeurl itself and have been carefully tended by the jali over many generations.<br><br>
Besides the drums, instruments like bells and bone flutes are common, with many of the tribe adorning wrists, ankles, ears, and tails with small tinkling accessories to create a musical counterpoint to the heavy percussion common in their dances.<br><br>
The Coeurl tribe also use their voices in various ululations and calls, having a much wider range of vocalizations than the Hyur, Roegadyn, or Lalafell.

====Dance====

Dance is an extremely important part of Coeurl culture. It is part of their courtship rituals, part of their coming of age rituals, part of their religious rites, and a part of their spiritual life. Most Coeurl dances involve the entire body from the tips of their ears to the ends of their toes and are driven by strong percussion created by drums and footpads hitting the earth.<br><br>
In a species where communication can be subtly changed by ear and tail position, the ears and tails of the Coeurl are a big part of many of their story-dances, used to evoke emotions while the face is hidden by a mask or the hands.

Coeurl ceremonial garb is worn during their dances and there are a multitude of different dances for males, females, and both.

[[Category:Troupe]]

Falling Stars Tribe

2019-07-11T20:31:11Z

Anstarra: /* A sept sequestered */

{{speculation}}

Please note: This page is a Work In Progress based off the template used by the Coeurl Tribe

The '''Falling Stars Tribe''', an off-shoot of the [[:Category: Miqo'te Seeker of the Sun|Seekers of the Sun]] sub-race of [[Miqo'te]], are a historically insular tribe located in the tundra to the northeast of [[Coerthas]], in the lee of the mountains of [[Xelphatol]]. Until a few Turns ago, very few knew of the tribe's existence, but in recent times due to the expansionist ambitions of their now-deceased Nunh, they came into conflict with the city-states of [[Eorzea]]. Now, a peace has been established, and the once-xenophobic Falling Stars have taken an exploratory interest in the world beyond their borders.

{| style= "width: 200px; height: 200px; float: right;" border="1"
| '''Race''' : [[Miqo'te]]
| '''Clan''' : Seekers of the Sun
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Population''' : ~400
| '''Number of Septs''' : 3
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Religion''' : [[Azeyma, the Warden]]; the Eight; the Fallen Nunh
| '''Naming Conventions''' : X' (pronounced ''she'')
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Location''' : North of the Black Shroud and east of Coerthas, in the tundra around the mountains of Xelphatol.
|}

==History==

As with the rest of their species, the Lynx tribe arrived in [[Eorzea]] in the Fifth Umbral Era, when ice bridges were created across continents. The ancestors of the current tribe followed not only their traditional prey but also the visions of their tribal leaders and the beast that they revered, the lynx. During the end of the Fifth Umbral Era, when the ice began to melt, the tribe migrated to the north and eastern portion of Eorzea, preferring the more northern climes associated with their totem. Much of the tribe remained essentially nomadic, though each claimed their territories in various parts of the more northern regions of [[Aldenard]]. <br>

===A sept sequestered===
During the War of the Magi, in the waning years of the Fifth Astral Era, a cabal of Nymian scholars broke away from the city-state. It is unknown whether they were exiled for unsound practices, or needed secrecy and privacy to complete their work; what is known is that they constructed a subterranean bunker and research station dedicated to discovering the secrets of immortality which came to be known as the Crucible of Knowledge (or simply the Crucible). Seeing their work as the only chance to survive the War of the Magi, these scholars made use of the resources they could find, in the form of an isolated sept of Lynx tribe miqo'te.<br>
The lore of the Falling Stars states that the experiments performed upon their ancestors were done against their will. The tonberry Ibes Habes, survivor of the city-state proper, insists that his fellows would never have stooped to such barbarity (though it is worth noting that Habes to this day seems to consider miqo'te to be little more than beasts, so the impartiality of his recollection is subject to some doubt). Regardless of how it began, the experiments were long-running and kept fiercely isolated from contamination, necessitating profound adjustments to the aetherial makeup of the subjects over a series of generations. Their aetherial pathways were completely rerouted, resulting in hardy, resilient spoken whose bodies were highly susceptible to and able to recover from further aetherial manipulation; the downside was that this internal focus rendered them incapable of expressing aether beyond their own bodies in anything but the most basic transmission. In essence, though capable of channeling aether through their own bodies, the Falling Stars are fundamentally incapable of wielding external magic (such as thaumaturgy, conjury, etc).<br>
A side-benefit, of interest to the scholars, was an extremely high resilience against bio-aetherial degradation, which, in addition to rendering their bodies proof against early ravages of ageing, also insulates them against potential deleterious effects of inbreeding.. a valuable trait for multi-generation research subjects.<br>

===The flight of the Falling Stars===
After an unknown time (though scattered notes suggest it was at least several decades, possibly as much as a century), the subjects rose up in rebellion. Legend states that a powerful male leader, whose name was lost and is only known of as The First Nunh, stirred his brethren into a bloody insurrection which resulted in the total massacre of the scholars and the flight of the miqo'te from the Crucible. The First Nunh led them to follow the trail of a falling star to the east, which brought the fleeing tribals into the lee of [[Xelphatol]] just in time for the calamitous Great Flood which would spell the end of the Fifth Astral Era. When the waters receded, the miqo'te descended from the mountains and settled into the new tundra, founding the Home Sept of the newly-named Falling Stars Tribe.<br>

===History of the Falling Stars with the Ixal, and Other Outsiders===
Due to their proximity to the mountains of Xelphatol, the native home of the avian beastmen known as the Ixal, the Falling Stars have had a history of open warfare and savage hostility with the beastman. It cannot be denied that the miqo'te tribals were the first to invade the lands of the Ixal, even if it was in the name of surviving the Great Flood, and that from the first little to no effort was made toward diplomacy. Their time in captivity had instilled into the Falling Stars an intense xenophobia, teaching them that "Outsiders" could never be trusted. To this day, Warriors of the tribe adorn themselves with trophies claimed from the birdmen, from feathers to talons and eyes.<br>
The hostility of the Falling Stars extended toward all Outsiders. Though natives of other neighboring lands rarely had reason to venture forth in the bleak tundra of their home, invariably any who were discovered were seen as threats and treated no better than the Ixal. Their knowledge of their home land, coupled with their physical prowess and disinclination to wander, had kept the existence of the sept concealed for over fifteen centuries... <br>

===A new age===

WIP AFTER THIS POINT

==Culture==

A note regarding the Coeurl culture at large and methods of communication in specific. Due to their proximity and the harshness of the environment they have carved their villages out of, the Coeurl have developed highly subtle forms of silent and near-silent communication using facial expressions, ear placement, and tail and hand motions. They use this form of communication amongst each other and to recognize one another while out in the world at large. As this is their default form of communication, when Coeurl tribe members are in society at large they are often regarded as somewhat twitchy.

===Politics===
Each of the three villages in the Coeurl tribe follows a system of government whereby five of the eldest members of the village- three females past child-bearing age and two males past hunting age- come together to discuss the good of the village. It is this Council that determines whether or not to declare proper war, when to look to new hunting grounds, and mediates disputes involving other villages, disputes between the various traditional ''ton'' (vocation-based fraternities and sororities), and disputes between nunhs. It is also this Council that determines which members of the tribe will be considered as 'Ankobia' and 'Master Hunter' (the titles are the same regardless of sex) and are qualified to lead the younger warriors and hunters, respectively, through their training.

===The Jali===
The position of bardpriest, known as ''jali'' is an important one in the villages of the Coeurl tribe both politically and spiritually. She plays the role of historian, mediator in minor arguments, spiritual bridge between the tribe and the elementals and the goddess, song-singer, dance teacher, and psychopomp along the rites of passage. <br><br>
The jali position is always held by a female and is passed only to female progeny as it requires too much movement between villages and into the outer world to be held by a tia or a nunh, who must be present in the village in order to protect it. <br><br>
Each village has it's own jali, however the jali of each village is expected to travel into the other villages as well as into the outer world frequently in order to maintain positive relations with the spirits and to learn the stories that are their stock in trade. Whenever one village's jali is gone, the other two jalis and their daughters are expected to pick up the duties. The only time all three jalis are required to be in the villages are during the two great festivals.<br><br>
The jali of the three villages are related. When the tribe crossed the ice in the 5th Umbral Era, one female had the ability that is now called 'The Echo'. She had three daughters. Over time, those three daughters have either raised or adopted daughters with that same ability so that they can trace their lineage in an unbroken line back to the first. The Echo has manifested in various different ways, leading to the jali's various duties. The current jali of the three villages consider one another sisters and have raised their daughters to do the same.

===Religion===
As with most of their sub-race, the Coeurl tribe worships the sun goddess [[Azeyma, the Warden]]. In her honor they consider themselves the ''warriors of the clouds'' and celebrate two large festivals annually. The tribe also reveres multiple manifestations of elemental spirits- fire and water being two elements of greater importance due to the villages' desert lifestyle. The reverence for the coeurl has made that figure a creature of folk tales, morality stories, as well as an intercessor between the tribe and Azeyma.

====Azeyma's Rest====
Azeyma's Rest is the summer solstice, when the Coeurl tribe believes that Azeyma shines her brightest before beginning to hide her radiant face behind her fan. It is a day to celebrate accomplishments of the year, to show one's strength, fertility, joy, and pride to the shining face of the Warden. It is often celebrated with elaborate dances, songs testifying the accomplishments of the tribe as a whole as well as individual members, and many times it is this day when young tias will attempt to challenge the nunhs of their village.<br><br>
On the day of Azeyma's Rest, the Coeurl tribe's largest number of courtship rituals are acted out. While a small number of rituals occur on other days of the year, it is considered good luck to be courted on the longest day of the year, as it is believed that Azeyma will bless the pairing with fertility and will allow the new female to join her sisters with that nunh in good harmony.<br><br>
Previously, there was a ritual enacted on Azeyma's Rest wherein a tia was chosen by the Council, sent into the wilds for 24 hours with nothing to eat or drink and no weapons. Should he return, he would be granted nunh status for that shortest night of the year and that night only and he should have his choice of any of the women of the tribe who would accept him, as they believed him to be blessed by Azeyma herself. Should a child be born of that symbolic union, they were almost universally heterochromic, a symbol of great importance to the Coeurl tribe and, indeed, the Seekers of the Sun as a whole. This ritual has largely fallen out of favor (at least publically) due to outside pressures from visitors to the tribe, who consider the practice overly superstitious. <br><br>
Azeyma's Rest is considered a holiday primarily celebrating the masculine elements of the tribe, with music, dancing, and story-telling following this theme. It is occasionally referred to as the 'male's new year'.

====Azeyma's Rising====
Azeyma's Rising falls on the winter solstice, near the end of the rainy season, when the Coeurl tribe believes that the Warden is beginning to rise from her long period of resting and is finally prepared to draw back her fan. As compared to the more boisterous celebrations of Azeyma's Rest, Azyema's Rising is a deeply spiritual holiday and is focused on preparing of one's self and one's village to move into the brightness of the Warden's light once more- and to be worthy of it. A holiday focusing on relationships between the spirits and the 'real' world, each village's cubs perform a ritual dance for which they have practiced for months wherein they form a chain that resembled a great fork of lightning striking through the three villages, moving from one all the way across the other two, until each dwelling and gathering place has been touched by their footpads- which have been stained a pale blue by grinding a flower that grows only in the rainy season.<br><br>
This same pale blue stain will be re-applied to the gates that stand at the entrance to each village, a symbolic rekindling of the bond between the Coeurl people and the lightning-bearing creature they revere.<br><br>
When the sun has set, many lanterns are lit and great feasts are prepared, and the village's female shaman and bard, known as a ''jali'', will step forward and begin to tell one of the stories of how Azeyma came by her fan. In the most popular version, the Warden's radiance was so dazzling the Miqo'te people became lost and wandered in the desert. They would have died had it not been for a great coeurl queen, who saw the brilliant goddess and took pity on the plight of the Miqo'te people, slipping between them and the shining sun's light. The coeurl's fur was burned black wherever the lady's eyes fell, like sunspots left behind one's closed eyes, but the lady was inspired, and fashioned herself a fan to shield her chosen people.<br><br>
Once the story is told, the jali will partake of a drug to send herself into a light trance as the village sings and dances tributes to the coeurl and Azeyma. While in said trance, the jali will attempt to seek the elemental spirits of fire, water, and (should she be lucky) the coeurl itself to ask for a year of abundant game, healthy childbearing, and safe passage for the cubs passing into adulthood.<br><br>
Given the deeply spiritual nature of this holiday as well as it's focus on beginnings, Azeyma's Rising is themed around the feminine and is considered the 'female's new year'.

===Rites of Passage===

When a miqo'te cub of the Coeurl tribe approaches their twelfth name-day, they are considered to be coming of age.<br><br>
At this time, the youth is taken aside by the Council and the jali of their village and is taught the history of their people and the ritual songs and dances of passage. They are also placed in seclusion until they complete the ritual items that will show the villages their change in status. Males and females both embroider their vests and headscarves and both sexes must complete the creation of basic weaponry- often a bow and arrows or a spear- for the final portion of the ritual. <br><br>
Once the weaponry is fashioned and the dances and songs have been learned to the Council and bardpriest's satisfaction, the youth is sent out into the desert of Thanalan for one full day and one full night. They are not given food nor water, having to find these things on their own. Many Coeurl tribesmembers relate that they are given visions during this time, shown the way to prey or to water sources by elemental spirits, by the coeurl, or by following the shadow of Azeyma's fan.<br><br>
When the youth returns to the village at dawn, they are gifted with their embroidered clothing, feasted, and welcomed into the adolescent world. A small celebration is thrown in their village and the youth must sing and dance what they have learned both from the jali and on their spiritual and survival journey into the wilds of the desert. When the celebration is over, the youth is free to choose a ton, to leave the communal housing of their mothers, and to learn a trade. It is at this time that tattooing is common, with many Coeurl adolescents choosing to get tattoos on their faces or elsewhere detailing their journey into the wild.

====The 'Ton'====

The ton are the communities within the villages of adolescent male and female miqo'te that are learning a trade. All of the ton are open to both sexes, however living arrangements are divided into male and female communal housing with an elder member of the ton so as to discourage courting or unsupervised pairings. The ton are used much like the outer world uses their various schools- there is a warrior's ton where the adolescents will learn the arts of war, tactics, how to weild various weapons, and how to work in a team, a hunter's ton that focuses on archery and tracking, a cooking ton, a weaver's ton, et cetera. <br><br>
The only profession that does not have a ton is that of the jali. This profession is passed down strictly through bloodlines due to the extensive amount of training required to learn the songs, dances, and rituals. The adolescent progeny of the jali in the villages are encouraged to join other tons, however their studies as the future bardpriest in the village take precedence. <br><br>
The warrior's ton is an excellent example of how tons work in Coeurl society. An adolescent joins at the lowest level, the ''Sword Bearer'' or ''Afena''. At this level, the adolescent warrior is given a mock wooden weapon and is typically treated as a runner, expected to learn by being silent and watching their elders. They perform many of the chores of the communal housing in order to learn discipline. They typically spar only with other Afena. In war, the Afena are camp runners, thus the title sword-bearer. The next level is ''Apprentice'' or ''Adum''. Upon graduating to apprentice level, the warrior has been taken under the wing of a older student and is given a blunted metal weapon and begins being taught tactics, the way of fighting that the Coeurl tribe favors. Adum are allowed to request sparring sessions with members of their own rank as well as the rank above them. They still perform chores but usually only do those related to attending to their mentors. In war, the Adum act as squires, sticking close to their mentors and providing for any and every need. The next rank in the ton is ''Warrior'' or ''Asafo''- these are the bulk of the fighting force of the village and are adults in the tribe that have undergone their adulthood rite of passage and returned to become mentors in the ton. Very rarely a nunh will be a part of this rank, however it is mostly made up of tias and females not currently bearing cubs. The final rank is the head of the warrior ton as well as the de facto general in times of war, the ''Ankobia''. This rank is chosen by the Council from the best warriors in the ton and is typically held until resignation or death in battle.<br><br>
The non-combat focused tons, such as the weaver's ton or the cooking ton, have slightly different structures and graduation standards, however they generally hold to the same idea as the more martial tons. The biggest difference is that the heads of these tons are not appointed by the Council but are chosen by the ton in an internal vote held among the adult members of the group.

====Singing/Hunting the World====

The final ritual most Coeurl tribespeople undergo is that of Hunting the World (called Singing the World for the daughters of jali). It is a relatively new rite, begun when Ul'dah began being settled so close to their traditional hunting grounds which introduced the tribe to many new people and new cultures. The legend goes that after several failed raids on the fledgling city, attempting to drive the intruders off thier territory, the three Councils met and it was decided that the tribe would approach the settlers as an opportunity.<br><br>
The ritual occurs when an adolescent miqo'te has reached the second rank in his or her ton- or in the case of the jali's heir, when her mother has determined it to be time. At this time, the mentor that has been guiding the miqo'te will gift them with a simple weapon, rations, and a piece of clothing embroidered with symbols for protection and knowledge. The youth is encouraged to travel as far and wide as they can in order to bring back some new piece of knowledge relevant to not just their ton but all of the tons, whether it is a new recipe, a new way of sword crafting, or a new song. Once they have hunted new prey across the four corners of Eorzea, they are to return to their village and present their findings on the next Azeyma's Rest, where their position in the tribe will change from adolescent to adult. <br><br>
It is at this time that tias are considered 'old enough' to start challenging nunhs in earnest, though some unruly adolescent males attempt it prior to their Hunt. It is at this time also that females will change the embroidery on their clothing to indicate they are open to being courted by one of the nunhs, though again, younger females occasionally are mated to nunhs prior to their Hunt or Song, particularly during seasons of war.

===Family Structure and Children===

As with other Keepers of the Sun, the Coeurl tribe keeps to the traditions of having a limited number of males who breed, known as 'nunh's and a larger number of non-breeding males known as 'tia's. In the three villages, the number of nunhs is never greater than four and currently sits at three in each village, with approximately ten to fifteen tias per village. <br><br>
The number of tias include adolescent boys and old men out of their prime but still technically of breeding age and so may seem inflated. It does not include the two males on each Council, nor the males of extreme age, as they are no longer considered competition for the nunhs.<br><br>
Each nunh typically is mated to roughly ten females of breeding age, though that number is somewhat fluid depending on the females of the village and the nunh's efforts to maintain the relationships beyond simple breeding. <br><br>
Typically, the females live in communal housing, sharing the hunting, gathering, cooking, and child-rearing duties amongst one another, with the very young and very old tias assisting. Each member of a nunh's household is considered family despite previous blood ties, with the females of a household referring to one another as 'sisters' or 'mothers' and the tias of a village either 'little brother' or 'uncle' depending on youth or age. The council members are always 'grandmother/father' depending on sex. The nunhs are typically not referred to in this familial manner, whether due to incest taboos or due to some honorary status attached to their names it is not clear. <br><br>
Childrearing is a communal process that begins after the cub's eighth day after birth. Prior to that day, the mother and cub are separated from the rest of the tribe and visited by the jali daily so that they may rest and be kept safe from negative influences. On the eighth day, the cub is presented to the tribe and the jali performs a brief ritual so that the elemental spirits will reveal the cub's name. The name is then typically not used in daily life, most Coeurl preferring nicknames or petnames until the cub is old enough to undergo their coming of age ritual.

====Courtship====

The courtship rituals of the Coeurl tribe are varied but are based on exogenous systems- it is taboo to join with a nunh within one's village. Therefore, holidays such as Azeyma's Rest and Azeyma's Rising are extremely important cultural exchanges wherein the females of the villages meet the nunhs and tias of their neighbors. Dancing is a common form of flirting, with the females dancing before the nunhs and the nunhs dancing before the females in turn in displays of strength, skill, beauty, and sexual prowess. As mentioned previously, such displays are common on Azeyma's Rest.<br><br>
When a nunh decides upon a female he would like to court, he will typically give her a small gift- jewelry is common, as are small embroidered or woven swatches of cloth, or for the martially inclined female, beautifully inlaid or filigreed small weapons like knives. Once the gift is received and accepted, the nunh will then stage a ceremonial kidnapping of the female from her ton, typically with the elder member of the communal dwelling's approval. If the kidnapping is done well, the female will move her things the next morning from the ton into the communal housing of the nunh's other mates. If the female is disappointed in the kidnapping, the gift, or the nunh in any way, she will petition one of the tias of her village, who will arrive to return her home to her village. <br><br>
The concepts of marriage and divorce are not followed in the tribe, though they are aware of such things existing. If a female feels neglected or displeased with the nunh she is mated to, she may leave his dwelling and either return to her village or, if another nunh is courting her, she may be ceremonially kidnapped from her current nunh. This typically occurs with younger females that have not yet borne cubs that are mated to older nunhs and often heralds a nunh being challenged.

====Nunhs and Tias====

When a tia decides to challenge a nunh for breeding rights, there are a few ways in which the Coeurl tribe typically settles such challenges. It is the nunh's right to choose the weapon and the tia's right to choose the terms- first outside the circle, to first blood, etc. It is strictly taboo for a challenge to occur during a time of war, though it is not unheard of for a tia to take advantage of the chaos of combat to eliminate a rival and petition for their position. Typical challenges occur during spring and summer, with the most common forms of combat being wrestling matches (claws and teeth being absolutely necessary for the Coeurl version of this sport), swordplay to first blood, even games of skill such as a game called ''Oware'', which is played on a board with several pits and small glass beads.<br><br>
If a tia is defeated, they lose face for a short time (particularly if extremely cocky) but can work themselves back into the good graces of the tribe relatively easily. It is generally seen as extremely poor judgement for multiple tias to challenge a nunh back to back and should the Council suspect that tias have banded together to take out a nunh they may punish the offenders extremely severely- exile being the accepted punishment.<br><br>
Should a nunh lose his place in the village, he will be taken in as a respected tia but the females in his dwelling typically return to their respective villages with their cubs where they will move in with their mothers or go to the tons where they lived prior to joining with the nunh. The new nunh must go about the courtship rituals from the beginning and establish himself anew.

===Warfare===
The Coeurl tribe is typically peaceful amongst themselves. They have a long and bloody history of warfare with the lizard beastmen the amal'jaa to the east as well as minor skirmishes with other miqo'te tribes and the occasional bandit troupe that attempts to encroach upon their very large territory. This includes pirates attempting to use the Bay of Dha'yuz as a safe bearth. As a result of this, the tribe has learned to translate their natural speed, hearing, and sense of smell into powerful guerilla-warfare style combat.<br><br>
Considering one of the tribe's tons is focused entirely on hand-to-hand combat (the warriors) and another is focused on archery and tracking, the Coeurl tribe is skilled in using small groups of combatants to surround an enemy, whereupon they flush them and using silent or near-silent communcation, they force their enemy into running combat whenever possible, picking them off. When the enemy stands to face them or proves to be better armed or armored, the tribe uses their knowledge of the land to set up traps, not above using their own or one of their enemies as bait.<br><br>
Typically, the Coeurl tribe does not have any residents with the ability to call upon magical forces, though the occasional prodigy has been known to occur. Such usually leaves the tribe during their period of Hunting the World. It is not unheard of for there to be one or more members of the tribe with the skill to summon manifestations of the elementals, however, and the jali are generally recognized as skilled healers- whether due to a knowledge of herbs, spices, and other primitive alchemy or due to a skill at conjury is not clear at this time.<br><br>
In battle, the Coeurl tribe will often paint themselves with dark blue symbols and stain the pads and claws of their hands so that should they be unarmed, they still strike with the power of the spirits.

====Ritual Weapons====

The Coeurl tribe practices a unique battle ritual in that they will only use certain materials in weapons used to kill enemies versus weapons used to hunt. The belief is that hunting is a sacred rite, as is battle, and each must adhere to it's own ways. A hunting bow, for instance, may be strung with the gut of one of the miqo'te's first kills, whereas a war bow will be strung with the hair of the first enemy to be successfully faced.

===Death===

The tribe's view on death is one of renewal- death is part of the cycle of life and therefore the spirit of the dead must be encouraged to walk on. Upon the death of a village member, the village will gather to cremate the body. Upon cremation, it is fervently wished that the deceased miqo'te will go on to “live in the Warden's warmth”. The ashes are then taken and used in the casting of several small bells which are hung in the windows and doorways of the deceased's former home or ton, where the desert wind will cause them to ring joyfully and remind those still living of the brightness of the life beyond.

===Impact of Outside Cultures===

The Coeurl tribe are not located terribly far from Ul'dah. As a result of their proximity to this large, bustling city, many of the younger members of the tribe who leave on their Hunt or Song leave and do not return. Whether they are lured away from the tribal society by the larger promise of riches, fame, and adventure or victimized due to their naivete is not clear, however it is certain that each year a few Coeurl adolescents do not return from their rite of passage.<br><br>
Overall, the Coeurl tribe takes on a somewhat conflicting approach to the outside world. “ I against my brother, my brothers and I against my cousins, then my cousins and I against strangers.” is a common tribal saying but the concept of ''diyafa'' or hospitality is deeply ingrained into the Coeurl. Even an enemy that requests hospitality is granted it and to turn one that asks away is a deeply shameful act. The villagers seem to be most content to have the greater world held at arm's distance but will not hesitate to welcome it should it pass their gates.<br><br>
That is not to say that the tribe is a dying one. The tribe has learned many things due to the process of the Song/Hunt and since the Calamity they have taken in orphans and members from the more nomadic tribes in the area that were displaced when the Deepvoid appeared. As a result, the tribe is currently in a state of some flux, with changes being made to previously rigid systems. It is uncertain whether the Coeurl tribe of current day and the Coeurl tribe of the future will resemble one another at all.

==Art and Music==

===Dress===

The Coeurl tribe favors loose, flowing clothing, dyed or woven with a variety of bright colors. After the coming of age ritual, the villagers each have a ''tagelmust'' or combination turban/veil that is embroidered more and more elaborately throughout their life. Typically, the tagelmust is dyed a bright blue using a method that requires the dyer to pound the color into the cloth due to the lack of readily available water. As the miqo'te grows, they add embroidery to the headscarf until it is so thickly embroidered with the details of their deeds that the original blue is almost invisible.

====Weaving====

The members of the weaver's ton of the Coeurl tribe have learned a great deal from the outside world, especially Ul'dah, and have become quite adept at using their natural dexterity to create elaborate designs where each color has it's own meaning. The tribe has become known in certain circles for the brilliance of their colors and the delicacy of it's designs and trade relations have tentatively begun to export the Coeurl weaving into Ul'dah.<br><br>
Some of the colors and themes common in Coeurl textile work are:
{|
|-
| valign=”top” |
* Light blue- spiritual ties, lightning
* Dark blue- strength, power in battle
* Gold/Orange- fertility, joy, glory; associated with Azeyma
| valighn=”top” |
* Purple- femininity, fertility
* Green- healing, growth, purity
* Black- festivals, spiritual energy
|}

====Jewelry====

Jewelry is common for both males and females in the Coeurl tribe, with designs varying but trending towards the abstract and elaborate. The tribe favors the use of symbols to evoke adages, old stories, and folk heros, and these symbols are very popular in jewelry. Crystals, gemstones, and precious metals are all common, with most jewelry being made using either the lost-wax casting method or the filigree method, both of which favor delicate designs and allow for a great deal of intricacy.<br><br>
The village nunhs each carry a ceremonial weapon that is more appropriately considered a piece of jewelry. A sword created out of fulgarite glass- the glass that is made when lightning hits sand. Carefully crafted by the best swordsmiths in the villages, these swords are passed on when the nunhs are challenged and are a symbol of both their strength and the fragility of their position in the tribe.<br><br>
Females tend to favor small bells around wrists and ankles when in the village.<br><br>
At this time, the miners of Ul'dah have not realized that the sands around the Coeurl villages are rich in naturally occuring gold and precious stones.

===Tattoos===

Much like the jewelry, the tattoos of the Coeurl tribe trend towards abstract symbols with deeper meanings. Most members of the tribe are tattooed in one form or another, many receiving their tattoos at their coming of age ceremony and adding to them after their Hunt/Song. It is common in the tribe to receive tattoos on the face, across the cheeks and nose, as well as on the upper arms and across the shoulders.

===Music===

====Common Instruments====
The Coeurl tribe favors percussion instruments, several different kinds of drums being common among the villages. Each village has a very large drum meant to be used as a message relay system, all the way down to very small bongo-style drum sets held between the knees. Each of the three villages have a sacred drum that the jali uses when doing ritual songs, made of cactuar with coeurl hide. These drums are believed to beat with the sacred heart of the coeurl itself and have been carefully tended by the jali over many generations.<br><br>
Besides the drums, instruments like bells and bone flutes are common, with many of the tribe adorning wrists, ankles, ears, and tails with small tinkling accessories to create a musical counterpoint to the heavy percussion common in their dances.<br><br>
The Coeurl tribe also use their voices in various ululations and calls, having a much wider range of vocalizations than the Hyur, Roegadyn, or Lalafell.

====Dance====

Dance is an extremely important part of Coeurl culture. It is part of their courtship rituals, part of their coming of age rituals, part of their religious rites, and a part of their spiritual life. Most Coeurl dances involve the entire body from the tips of their ears to the ends of their toes and are driven by strong percussion created by drums and footpads hitting the earth.<br><br>
In a species where communication can be subtly changed by ear and tail position, the ears and tails of the Coeurl are a big part of many of their story-dances, used to evoke emotions while the face is hidden by a mask or the hands.

Coeurl ceremonial garb is worn during their dances and there are a multitude of different dances for males, females, and both.

[[Category:Troupe]]

Falling Stars Tribe

2019-07-11T20:29:34Z

Anstarra: /* History */

{{speculation}}

Please note: This page is a Work In Progress based off the template used by the Coeurl Tribe

The '''Falling Stars Tribe''', an off-shoot of the [[:Category: Miqo'te Seeker of the Sun|Seekers of the Sun]] sub-race of [[Miqo'te]], are a historically insular tribe located in the tundra to the northeast of [[Coerthas]], in the lee of the mountains of [[Xelphatol]]. Until a few Turns ago, very few knew of the tribe's existence, but in recent times due to the expansionist ambitions of their now-deceased Nunh, they came into conflict with the city-states of [[Eorzea]]. Now, a peace has been established, and the once-xenophobic Falling Stars have taken an exploratory interest in the world beyond their borders.

{| style= "width: 200px; height: 200px; float: right;" border="1"
| '''Race''' : [[Miqo'te]]
| '''Clan''' : Seekers of the Sun
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Population''' : ~400
| '''Number of Septs''' : 3
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Religion''' : [[Azeyma, the Warden]]; the Eight; the Fallen Nunh
| '''Naming Conventions''' : X' (pronounced ''she'')
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Location''' : North of the Black Shroud and east of Coerthas, in the tundra around the mountains of Xelphatol.
|}

==History==

As with the rest of their species, the Lynx tribe arrived in [[Eorzea]] in the Fifth Umbral Era, when ice bridges were created across continents. The ancestors of the current tribe followed not only their traditional prey but also the visions of their tribal leaders and the beast that they revered, the lynx. During the end of the Fifth Umbral Era, when the ice began to melt, the tribe migrated to the north and eastern portion of Eorzea, preferring the more northern climes associated with their totem. Much of the tribe remained essentially nomadic, though each claimed their territories in various parts of the more northern regions of [[Aldenard]]. <br>

===A sept sequestered===
During the War of the Magi, in the waning years of the Fifth Astral Era, a cabal of Nymian scholars broke away from the city-state. It is unknown whether they were exiled for unsound practices, or needed secrecy and privacy to complete their work; what is known is that they constructed a subterranean bunker and research station dedicated to discovering the secrets of immortality, which came to be known as the Crucible of Knowledge (or simply the Crucible). Seeing their work as the only chance to survive the War of the Magi, these scholars made use of the resources they could find, in the form of an isolated sept of Lynx tribe miqo'te.<br>
The lore of the Falling Stars states that the experiments performed upon their ancestors were done against their will. The tonberry Ibes Habes, survivor of the city-state proper, insists that his fellows would never have stooped to such barbarity (though it is worth noting that Habes to this day seems to consider miqo'te to be little more than beasts, so the impartiality of his recollection is subject to some doubt). Regardless of how it began, the experiments were long-running and kept fiercely isolated from contamination, necessitating profound adjustments to the aetherial makeup of the subjects over a series of generations. Their aetherial pathways were completely rerouted, resulting in hardy, resilient spoken whose bodies were highly susceptible to and able to recover from further aetherial manipulation; the downside was that this internal focus rendered them incapable of expressing aether beyond their own bodies in anything but the most basic transmission. In essence, though capable of channeling aether through their own bodies, the Falling Stars are fundamentally incapable of wielding external magic (such as thaumaturgy, conjury, etc).<br>
A side-benefit, of interest to the scholars, was an extremely high resilience against bio-aetherial degradation, which, in addition to rendering their bodies proof against early ravages of ageing, also insulates them against potential deleterious effects of inbreeding.. a valuable trait for multi-generation research subjects.<br>

===The flight of the Falling Stars===
After an unknown time (though scattered notes suggest it was at least several decades, possibly as much as a century), the subjects rose up in rebellion. Legend states that a powerful male leader, whose name was lost and is only known of as The First Nunh, stirred his brethren into a bloody insurrection which resulted in the total massacre of the scholars and the flight of the miqo'te from the Crucible. The First Nunh led them to follow the trail of a falling star to the east, which brought the fleeing tribals into the lee of [[Xelphatol]] just in time for the calamitous Great Flood which would spell the end of the Fifth Astral Era. When the waters receded, the miqo'te descended from the mountains and settled into the new tundra, founding the Home Sept of the newly-named Falling Stars Tribe.<br>

===History of the Falling Stars with the Ixal, and Other Outsiders===
Due to their proximity to the mountains of Xelphatol, the native home of the avian beastmen known as the Ixal, the Falling Stars have had a history of open warfare and savage hostility with the beastman. It cannot be denied that the miqo'te tribals were the first to invade the lands of the Ixal, even if it was in the name of surviving the Great Flood, and that from the first little to no effort was made toward diplomacy. Their time in captivity had instilled into the Falling Stars an intense xenophobia, teaching them that "Outsiders" could never be trusted. To this day, Warriors of the tribe adorn themselves with trophies claimed from the birdmen, from feathers to talons and eyes.<br>
The hostility of the Falling Stars extended toward all Outsiders. Though natives of other neighboring lands rarely had reason to venture forth in the bleak tundra of their home, invariably any who were discovered were seen as threats and treated no better than the Ixal. Their knowledge of their home land, coupled with their physical prowess and disinclination to wander, had kept the existence of the sept concealed for over fifteen centuries... <br>

===A new age===

WIP AFTER THIS POINT

==Culture==

A note regarding the Coeurl culture at large and methods of communication in specific. Due to their proximity and the harshness of the environment they have carved their villages out of, the Coeurl have developed highly subtle forms of silent and near-silent communication using facial expressions, ear placement, and tail and hand motions. They use this form of communication amongst each other and to recognize one another while out in the world at large. As this is their default form of communication, when Coeurl tribe members are in society at large they are often regarded as somewhat twitchy.

===Politics===
Each of the three villages in the Coeurl tribe follows a system of government whereby five of the eldest members of the village- three females past child-bearing age and two males past hunting age- come together to discuss the good of the village. It is this Council that determines whether or not to declare proper war, when to look to new hunting grounds, and mediates disputes involving other villages, disputes between the various traditional ''ton'' (vocation-based fraternities and sororities), and disputes between nunhs. It is also this Council that determines which members of the tribe will be considered as 'Ankobia' and 'Master Hunter' (the titles are the same regardless of sex) and are qualified to lead the younger warriors and hunters, respectively, through their training.

===The Jali===
The position of bardpriest, known as ''jali'' is an important one in the villages of the Coeurl tribe both politically and spiritually. She plays the role of historian, mediator in minor arguments, spiritual bridge between the tribe and the elementals and the goddess, song-singer, dance teacher, and psychopomp along the rites of passage. <br><br>
The jali position is always held by a female and is passed only to female progeny as it requires too much movement between villages and into the outer world to be held by a tia or a nunh, who must be present in the village in order to protect it. <br><br>
Each village has it's own jali, however the jali of each village is expected to travel into the other villages as well as into the outer world frequently in order to maintain positive relations with the spirits and to learn the stories that are their stock in trade. Whenever one village's jali is gone, the other two jalis and their daughters are expected to pick up the duties. The only time all three jalis are required to be in the villages are during the two great festivals.<br><br>
The jali of the three villages are related. When the tribe crossed the ice in the 5th Umbral Era, one female had the ability that is now called 'The Echo'. She had three daughters. Over time, those three daughters have either raised or adopted daughters with that same ability so that they can trace their lineage in an unbroken line back to the first. The Echo has manifested in various different ways, leading to the jali's various duties. The current jali of the three villages consider one another sisters and have raised their daughters to do the same.

===Religion===
As with most of their sub-race, the Coeurl tribe worships the sun goddess [[Azeyma, the Warden]]. In her honor they consider themselves the ''warriors of the clouds'' and celebrate two large festivals annually. The tribe also reveres multiple manifestations of elemental spirits- fire and water being two elements of greater importance due to the villages' desert lifestyle. The reverence for the coeurl has made that figure a creature of folk tales, morality stories, as well as an intercessor between the tribe and Azeyma.

====Azeyma's Rest====
Azeyma's Rest is the summer solstice, when the Coeurl tribe believes that Azeyma shines her brightest before beginning to hide her radiant face behind her fan. It is a day to celebrate accomplishments of the year, to show one's strength, fertility, joy, and pride to the shining face of the Warden. It is often celebrated with elaborate dances, songs testifying the accomplishments of the tribe as a whole as well as individual members, and many times it is this day when young tias will attempt to challenge the nunhs of their village.<br><br>
On the day of Azeyma's Rest, the Coeurl tribe's largest number of courtship rituals are acted out. While a small number of rituals occur on other days of the year, it is considered good luck to be courted on the longest day of the year, as it is believed that Azeyma will bless the pairing with fertility and will allow the new female to join her sisters with that nunh in good harmony.<br><br>
Previously, there was a ritual enacted on Azeyma's Rest wherein a tia was chosen by the Council, sent into the wilds for 24 hours with nothing to eat or drink and no weapons. Should he return, he would be granted nunh status for that shortest night of the year and that night only and he should have his choice of any of the women of the tribe who would accept him, as they believed him to be blessed by Azeyma herself. Should a child be born of that symbolic union, they were almost universally heterochromic, a symbol of great importance to the Coeurl tribe and, indeed, the Seekers of the Sun as a whole. This ritual has largely fallen out of favor (at least publically) due to outside pressures from visitors to the tribe, who consider the practice overly superstitious. <br><br>
Azeyma's Rest is considered a holiday primarily celebrating the masculine elements of the tribe, with music, dancing, and story-telling following this theme. It is occasionally referred to as the 'male's new year'.

====Azeyma's Rising====
Azeyma's Rising falls on the winter solstice, near the end of the rainy season, when the Coeurl tribe believes that the Warden is beginning to rise from her long period of resting and is finally prepared to draw back her fan. As compared to the more boisterous celebrations of Azeyma's Rest, Azyema's Rising is a deeply spiritual holiday and is focused on preparing of one's self and one's village to move into the brightness of the Warden's light once more- and to be worthy of it. A holiday focusing on relationships between the spirits and the 'real' world, each village's cubs perform a ritual dance for which they have practiced for months wherein they form a chain that resembled a great fork of lightning striking through the three villages, moving from one all the way across the other two, until each dwelling and gathering place has been touched by their footpads- which have been stained a pale blue by grinding a flower that grows only in the rainy season.<br><br>
This same pale blue stain will be re-applied to the gates that stand at the entrance to each village, a symbolic rekindling of the bond between the Coeurl people and the lightning-bearing creature they revere.<br><br>
When the sun has set, many lanterns are lit and great feasts are prepared, and the village's female shaman and bard, known as a ''jali'', will step forward and begin to tell one of the stories of how Azeyma came by her fan. In the most popular version, the Warden's radiance was so dazzling the Miqo'te people became lost and wandered in the desert. They would have died had it not been for a great coeurl queen, who saw the brilliant goddess and took pity on the plight of the Miqo'te people, slipping between them and the shining sun's light. The coeurl's fur was burned black wherever the lady's eyes fell, like sunspots left behind one's closed eyes, but the lady was inspired, and fashioned herself a fan to shield her chosen people.<br><br>
Once the story is told, the jali will partake of a drug to send herself into a light trance as the village sings and dances tributes to the coeurl and Azeyma. While in said trance, the jali will attempt to seek the elemental spirits of fire, water, and (should she be lucky) the coeurl itself to ask for a year of abundant game, healthy childbearing, and safe passage for the cubs passing into adulthood.<br><br>
Given the deeply spiritual nature of this holiday as well as it's focus on beginnings, Azeyma's Rising is themed around the feminine and is considered the 'female's new year'.

===Rites of Passage===

When a miqo'te cub of the Coeurl tribe approaches their twelfth name-day, they are considered to be coming of age.<br><br>
At this time, the youth is taken aside by the Council and the jali of their village and is taught the history of their people and the ritual songs and dances of passage. They are also placed in seclusion until they complete the ritual items that will show the villages their change in status. Males and females both embroider their vests and headscarves and both sexes must complete the creation of basic weaponry- often a bow and arrows or a spear- for the final portion of the ritual. <br><br>
Once the weaponry is fashioned and the dances and songs have been learned to the Council and bardpriest's satisfaction, the youth is sent out into the desert of Thanalan for one full day and one full night. They are not given food nor water, having to find these things on their own. Many Coeurl tribesmembers relate that they are given visions during this time, shown the way to prey or to water sources by elemental spirits, by the coeurl, or by following the shadow of Azeyma's fan.<br><br>
When the youth returns to the village at dawn, they are gifted with their embroidered clothing, feasted, and welcomed into the adolescent world. A small celebration is thrown in their village and the youth must sing and dance what they have learned both from the jali and on their spiritual and survival journey into the wilds of the desert. When the celebration is over, the youth is free to choose a ton, to leave the communal housing of their mothers, and to learn a trade. It is at this time that tattooing is common, with many Coeurl adolescents choosing to get tattoos on their faces or elsewhere detailing their journey into the wild.

====The 'Ton'====

The ton are the communities within the villages of adolescent male and female miqo'te that are learning a trade. All of the ton are open to both sexes, however living arrangements are divided into male and female communal housing with an elder member of the ton so as to discourage courting or unsupervised pairings. The ton are used much like the outer world uses their various schools- there is a warrior's ton where the adolescents will learn the arts of war, tactics, how to weild various weapons, and how to work in a team, a hunter's ton that focuses on archery and tracking, a cooking ton, a weaver's ton, et cetera. <br><br>
The only profession that does not have a ton is that of the jali. This profession is passed down strictly through bloodlines due to the extensive amount of training required to learn the songs, dances, and rituals. The adolescent progeny of the jali in the villages are encouraged to join other tons, however their studies as the future bardpriest in the village take precedence. <br><br>
The warrior's ton is an excellent example of how tons work in Coeurl society. An adolescent joins at the lowest level, the ''Sword Bearer'' or ''Afena''. At this level, the adolescent warrior is given a mock wooden weapon and is typically treated as a runner, expected to learn by being silent and watching their elders. They perform many of the chores of the communal housing in order to learn discipline. They typically spar only with other Afena. In war, the Afena are camp runners, thus the title sword-bearer. The next level is ''Apprentice'' or ''Adum''. Upon graduating to apprentice level, the warrior has been taken under the wing of a older student and is given a blunted metal weapon and begins being taught tactics, the way of fighting that the Coeurl tribe favors. Adum are allowed to request sparring sessions with members of their own rank as well as the rank above them. They still perform chores but usually only do those related to attending to their mentors. In war, the Adum act as squires, sticking close to their mentors and providing for any and every need. The next rank in the ton is ''Warrior'' or ''Asafo''- these are the bulk of the fighting force of the village and are adults in the tribe that have undergone their adulthood rite of passage and returned to become mentors in the ton. Very rarely a nunh will be a part of this rank, however it is mostly made up of tias and females not currently bearing cubs. The final rank is the head of the warrior ton as well as the de facto general in times of war, the ''Ankobia''. This rank is chosen by the Council from the best warriors in the ton and is typically held until resignation or death in battle.<br><br>
The non-combat focused tons, such as the weaver's ton or the cooking ton, have slightly different structures and graduation standards, however they generally hold to the same idea as the more martial tons. The biggest difference is that the heads of these tons are not appointed by the Council but are chosen by the ton in an internal vote held among the adult members of the group.

====Singing/Hunting the World====

The final ritual most Coeurl tribespeople undergo is that of Hunting the World (called Singing the World for the daughters of jali). It is a relatively new rite, begun when Ul'dah began being settled so close to their traditional hunting grounds which introduced the tribe to many new people and new cultures. The legend goes that after several failed raids on the fledgling city, attempting to drive the intruders off thier territory, the three Councils met and it was decided that the tribe would approach the settlers as an opportunity.<br><br>
The ritual occurs when an adolescent miqo'te has reached the second rank in his or her ton- or in the case of the jali's heir, when her mother has determined it to be time. At this time, the mentor that has been guiding the miqo'te will gift them with a simple weapon, rations, and a piece of clothing embroidered with symbols for protection and knowledge. The youth is encouraged to travel as far and wide as they can in order to bring back some new piece of knowledge relevant to not just their ton but all of the tons, whether it is a new recipe, a new way of sword crafting, or a new song. Once they have hunted new prey across the four corners of Eorzea, they are to return to their village and present their findings on the next Azeyma's Rest, where their position in the tribe will change from adolescent to adult. <br><br>
It is at this time that tias are considered 'old enough' to start challenging nunhs in earnest, though some unruly adolescent males attempt it prior to their Hunt. It is at this time also that females will change the embroidery on their clothing to indicate they are open to being courted by one of the nunhs, though again, younger females occasionally are mated to nunhs prior to their Hunt or Song, particularly during seasons of war.

===Family Structure and Children===

As with other Keepers of the Sun, the Coeurl tribe keeps to the traditions of having a limited number of males who breed, known as 'nunh's and a larger number of non-breeding males known as 'tia's. In the three villages, the number of nunhs is never greater than four and currently sits at three in each village, with approximately ten to fifteen tias per village. <br><br>
The number of tias include adolescent boys and old men out of their prime but still technically of breeding age and so may seem inflated. It does not include the two males on each Council, nor the males of extreme age, as they are no longer considered competition for the nunhs.<br><br>
Each nunh typically is mated to roughly ten females of breeding age, though that number is somewhat fluid depending on the females of the village and the nunh's efforts to maintain the relationships beyond simple breeding. <br><br>
Typically, the females live in communal housing, sharing the hunting, gathering, cooking, and child-rearing duties amongst one another, with the very young and very old tias assisting. Each member of a nunh's household is considered family despite previous blood ties, with the females of a household referring to one another as 'sisters' or 'mothers' and the tias of a village either 'little brother' or 'uncle' depending on youth or age. The council members are always 'grandmother/father' depending on sex. The nunhs are typically not referred to in this familial manner, whether due to incest taboos or due to some honorary status attached to their names it is not clear. <br><br>
Childrearing is a communal process that begins after the cub's eighth day after birth. Prior to that day, the mother and cub are separated from the rest of the tribe and visited by the jali daily so that they may rest and be kept safe from negative influences. On the eighth day, the cub is presented to the tribe and the jali performs a brief ritual so that the elemental spirits will reveal the cub's name. The name is then typically not used in daily life, most Coeurl preferring nicknames or petnames until the cub is old enough to undergo their coming of age ritual.

====Courtship====

The courtship rituals of the Coeurl tribe are varied but are based on exogenous systems- it is taboo to join with a nunh within one's village. Therefore, holidays such as Azeyma's Rest and Azeyma's Rising are extremely important cultural exchanges wherein the females of the villages meet the nunhs and tias of their neighbors. Dancing is a common form of flirting, with the females dancing before the nunhs and the nunhs dancing before the females in turn in displays of strength, skill, beauty, and sexual prowess. As mentioned previously, such displays are common on Azeyma's Rest.<br><br>
When a nunh decides upon a female he would like to court, he will typically give her a small gift- jewelry is common, as are small embroidered or woven swatches of cloth, or for the martially inclined female, beautifully inlaid or filigreed small weapons like knives. Once the gift is received and accepted, the nunh will then stage a ceremonial kidnapping of the female from her ton, typically with the elder member of the communal dwelling's approval. If the kidnapping is done well, the female will move her things the next morning from the ton into the communal housing of the nunh's other mates. If the female is disappointed in the kidnapping, the gift, or the nunh in any way, she will petition one of the tias of her village, who will arrive to return her home to her village. <br><br>
The concepts of marriage and divorce are not followed in the tribe, though they are aware of such things existing. If a female feels neglected or displeased with the nunh she is mated to, she may leave his dwelling and either return to her village or, if another nunh is courting her, she may be ceremonially kidnapped from her current nunh. This typically occurs with younger females that have not yet borne cubs that are mated to older nunhs and often heralds a nunh being challenged.

====Nunhs and Tias====

When a tia decides to challenge a nunh for breeding rights, there are a few ways in which the Coeurl tribe typically settles such challenges. It is the nunh's right to choose the weapon and the tia's right to choose the terms- first outside the circle, to first blood, etc. It is strictly taboo for a challenge to occur during a time of war, though it is not unheard of for a tia to take advantage of the chaos of combat to eliminate a rival and petition for their position. Typical challenges occur during spring and summer, with the most common forms of combat being wrestling matches (claws and teeth being absolutely necessary for the Coeurl version of this sport), swordplay to first blood, even games of skill such as a game called ''Oware'', which is played on a board with several pits and small glass beads.<br><br>
If a tia is defeated, they lose face for a short time (particularly if extremely cocky) but can work themselves back into the good graces of the tribe relatively easily. It is generally seen as extremely poor judgement for multiple tias to challenge a nunh back to back and should the Council suspect that tias have banded together to take out a nunh they may punish the offenders extremely severely- exile being the accepted punishment.<br><br>
Should a nunh lose his place in the village, he will be taken in as a respected tia but the females in his dwelling typically return to their respective villages with their cubs where they will move in with their mothers or go to the tons where they lived prior to joining with the nunh. The new nunh must go about the courtship rituals from the beginning and establish himself anew.

===Warfare===
The Coeurl tribe is typically peaceful amongst themselves. They have a long and bloody history of warfare with the lizard beastmen the amal'jaa to the east as well as minor skirmishes with other miqo'te tribes and the occasional bandit troupe that attempts to encroach upon their very large territory. This includes pirates attempting to use the Bay of Dha'yuz as a safe bearth. As a result of this, the tribe has learned to translate their natural speed, hearing, and sense of smell into powerful guerilla-warfare style combat.<br><br>
Considering one of the tribe's tons is focused entirely on hand-to-hand combat (the warriors) and another is focused on archery and tracking, the Coeurl tribe is skilled in using small groups of combatants to surround an enemy, whereupon they flush them and using silent or near-silent communcation, they force their enemy into running combat whenever possible, picking them off. When the enemy stands to face them or proves to be better armed or armored, the tribe uses their knowledge of the land to set up traps, not above using their own or one of their enemies as bait.<br><br>
Typically, the Coeurl tribe does not have any residents with the ability to call upon magical forces, though the occasional prodigy has been known to occur. Such usually leaves the tribe during their period of Hunting the World. It is not unheard of for there to be one or more members of the tribe with the skill to summon manifestations of the elementals, however, and the jali are generally recognized as skilled healers- whether due to a knowledge of herbs, spices, and other primitive alchemy or due to a skill at conjury is not clear at this time.<br><br>
In battle, the Coeurl tribe will often paint themselves with dark blue symbols and stain the pads and claws of their hands so that should they be unarmed, they still strike with the power of the spirits.

====Ritual Weapons====

The Coeurl tribe practices a unique battle ritual in that they will only use certain materials in weapons used to kill enemies versus weapons used to hunt. The belief is that hunting is a sacred rite, as is battle, and each must adhere to it's own ways. A hunting bow, for instance, may be strung with the gut of one of the miqo'te's first kills, whereas a war bow will be strung with the hair of the first enemy to be successfully faced.

===Death===

The tribe's view on death is one of renewal- death is part of the cycle of life and therefore the spirit of the dead must be encouraged to walk on. Upon the death of a village member, the village will gather to cremate the body. Upon cremation, it is fervently wished that the deceased miqo'te will go on to “live in the Warden's warmth”. The ashes are then taken and used in the casting of several small bells which are hung in the windows and doorways of the deceased's former home or ton, where the desert wind will cause them to ring joyfully and remind those still living of the brightness of the life beyond.

===Impact of Outside Cultures===

The Coeurl tribe are not located terribly far from Ul'dah. As a result of their proximity to this large, bustling city, many of the younger members of the tribe who leave on their Hunt or Song leave and do not return. Whether they are lured away from the tribal society by the larger promise of riches, fame, and adventure or victimized due to their naivete is not clear, however it is certain that each year a few Coeurl adolescents do not return from their rite of passage.<br><br>
Overall, the Coeurl tribe takes on a somewhat conflicting approach to the outside world. “ I against my brother, my brothers and I against my cousins, then my cousins and I against strangers.” is a common tribal saying but the concept of ''diyafa'' or hospitality is deeply ingrained into the Coeurl. Even an enemy that requests hospitality is granted it and to turn one that asks away is a deeply shameful act. The villagers seem to be most content to have the greater world held at arm's distance but will not hesitate to welcome it should it pass their gates.<br><br>
That is not to say that the tribe is a dying one. The tribe has learned many things due to the process of the Song/Hunt and since the Calamity they have taken in orphans and members from the more nomadic tribes in the area that were displaced when the Deepvoid appeared. As a result, the tribe is currently in a state of some flux, with changes being made to previously rigid systems. It is uncertain whether the Coeurl tribe of current day and the Coeurl tribe of the future will resemble one another at all.

==Art and Music==

===Dress===

The Coeurl tribe favors loose, flowing clothing, dyed or woven with a variety of bright colors. After the coming of age ritual, the villagers each have a ''tagelmust'' or combination turban/veil that is embroidered more and more elaborately throughout their life. Typically, the tagelmust is dyed a bright blue using a method that requires the dyer to pound the color into the cloth due to the lack of readily available water. As the miqo'te grows, they add embroidery to the headscarf until it is so thickly embroidered with the details of their deeds that the original blue is almost invisible.

====Weaving====

The members of the weaver's ton of the Coeurl tribe have learned a great deal from the outside world, especially Ul'dah, and have become quite adept at using their natural dexterity to create elaborate designs where each color has it's own meaning. The tribe has become known in certain circles for the brilliance of their colors and the delicacy of it's designs and trade relations have tentatively begun to export the Coeurl weaving into Ul'dah.<br><br>
Some of the colors and themes common in Coeurl textile work are:
{|
|-
| valign=”top” |
* Light blue- spiritual ties, lightning
* Dark blue- strength, power in battle
* Gold/Orange- fertility, joy, glory; associated with Azeyma
| valighn=”top” |
* Purple- femininity, fertility
* Green- healing, growth, purity
* Black- festivals, spiritual energy
|}

====Jewelry====

Jewelry is common for both males and females in the Coeurl tribe, with designs varying but trending towards the abstract and elaborate. The tribe favors the use of symbols to evoke adages, old stories, and folk heros, and these symbols are very popular in jewelry. Crystals, gemstones, and precious metals are all common, with most jewelry being made using either the lost-wax casting method or the filigree method, both of which favor delicate designs and allow for a great deal of intricacy.<br><br>
The village nunhs each carry a ceremonial weapon that is more appropriately considered a piece of jewelry. A sword created out of fulgarite glass- the glass that is made when lightning hits sand. Carefully crafted by the best swordsmiths in the villages, these swords are passed on when the nunhs are challenged and are a symbol of both their strength and the fragility of their position in the tribe.<br><br>
Females tend to favor small bells around wrists and ankles when in the village.<br><br>
At this time, the miners of Ul'dah have not realized that the sands around the Coeurl villages are rich in naturally occuring gold and precious stones.

===Tattoos===

Much like the jewelry, the tattoos of the Coeurl tribe trend towards abstract symbols with deeper meanings. Most members of the tribe are tattooed in one form or another, many receiving their tattoos at their coming of age ceremony and adding to them after their Hunt/Song. It is common in the tribe to receive tattoos on the face, across the cheeks and nose, as well as on the upper arms and across the shoulders.

===Music===

====Common Instruments====
The Coeurl tribe favors percussion instruments, several different kinds of drums being common among the villages. Each village has a very large drum meant to be used as a message relay system, all the way down to very small bongo-style drum sets held between the knees. Each of the three villages have a sacred drum that the jali uses when doing ritual songs, made of cactuar with coeurl hide. These drums are believed to beat with the sacred heart of the coeurl itself and have been carefully tended by the jali over many generations.<br><br>
Besides the drums, instruments like bells and bone flutes are common, with many of the tribe adorning wrists, ankles, ears, and tails with small tinkling accessories to create a musical counterpoint to the heavy percussion common in their dances.<br><br>
The Coeurl tribe also use their voices in various ululations and calls, having a much wider range of vocalizations than the Hyur, Roegadyn, or Lalafell.

====Dance====

Dance is an extremely important part of Coeurl culture. It is part of their courtship rituals, part of their coming of age rituals, part of their religious rites, and a part of their spiritual life. Most Coeurl dances involve the entire body from the tips of their ears to the ends of their toes and are driven by strong percussion created by drums and footpads hitting the earth.<br><br>
In a species where communication can be subtly changed by ear and tail position, the ears and tails of the Coeurl are a big part of many of their story-dances, used to evoke emotions while the face is hidden by a mask or the hands.

Coeurl ceremonial garb is worn during their dances and there are a multitude of different dances for males, females, and both.

[[Category:Troupe]]

Falling Stars Tribe

2019-07-11T20:23:52Z

Anstarra: More history, approaching a new age

{{speculation}}

Please note: This page is a Work In Progress based off the template used by the Coeurl Tribe

The '''Falling Stars Tribe''', an off-shoot of the [[:Category: Miqo'te Seeker of the Sun|Seekers of the Sun]] sub-race of [[Miqo'te]], are a historically insular tribe located in the tundra to the northeast of [[Coerthas]], in the lee of the mountains of [[Xelphatol]]. Until a few Turns ago, very few knew of the tribe's existence, but in recent times due to the expansionist ambitions of their now-deceased Nunh, they came into conflict with the city-states of [[Eorzea]]. Now, a peace has been established, and the once-xenophobic Falling Stars have taken an exploratory interest in the world beyond their borders.

{| style= "width: 200px; height: 200px; float: right;" border="1"
| '''Race''' : [[Miqo'te]]
| '''Clan''' : Seekers of the Sun
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Population''' : ~400
| '''Number of Septs''' : 3
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Religion''' : [[Azeyma, the Warden]]; the Eight; the Fallen Nunh
| '''Naming Conventions''' : X' (pronounced ''she'')
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Location''' : North of the Black Shroud and east of Coerthas, in the tundra around the mountains of Xelphatol.
|}

==History==

WIP AFTER THIS POINT

As with the rest of their species, the Lynx tribe arrived in [[Eorzea]] in the Fifth Umbral Era, when ice bridges were created across continents. The ancestors of the current tribe followed not only their traditional prey but also the visions of their tribal leaders and the beast that they revered, the lynx. During the end of the Fifth Umbral Era, when the ice began to melt, the tribe migrated to the north and eastern portion of Eorzea, preferring the more northern climes associated with their totem. Much of the tribe remained essentially nomadic, though each claimed their territories in various parts of the more northern regions of [[Aldenard]]. <br>

===A sept sequestered===
During the War of the Magi, in the waning years of the Fifth Astral Era, a cabal of Nymian scholars broke away from the city-state. It is unknown whether they were exiled for unsound practices, or needed secrecy and privacy to complete their work; what is known is that they constructed a subterranean bunker and research station dedicated to discovering the secrets of immortality, which came to be known as the Crucible of Knowledge (or simply the Crucible). Seeing their work as the only chance to survive the War of the Magi, these scholars made use of the resources they could find, in the form of an isolated sept of Lynx tribe miqo'te.<br>
The lore of the Falling Stars states that the experiments performed upon their ancestors were done against their will. The tonberry Ibes Habes, survivor of the city-state proper, insists that his fellows would never have stooped to such barbarity (though it is worth noting that Habes to this day seems to consider miqo'te to be little more than beasts, so the impartiality of his recollection is subject to some doubt). Regardless of how it began, the experiments were long-running and kept fiercely isolated from contamination, necessitating profound adjustments to the aetherial makeup of the subjects over a series of generations. Their aetherial pathways were completely rerouted, resulting in hardy, resilient spoken whose bodies were highly susceptible to and able to recover from further aetherial manipulation; the downside was that this internal focus rendered them incapable of expressing aether beyond their own bodies in anything but the most basic transmission. In essence, though capable of channeling aether through their own bodies, the Falling Stars are fundamentally incapable of wielding external magic (such as thaumaturgy, conjury, etc).<br>
A side-benefit, of interest to the scholars, was an extremely high resilience against bio-aetherial degradation, which, in addition to rendering their bodies proof against early ravages of ageing, also insulates them against potential deleterious effects of inbreeding.. a valuable trait for multi-generation research subjects.<br>

===The flight of the Falling Stars===
After an unknown time (though scattered notes suggest it was at least several decades, possibly as much as a century), the subjects rose up in rebellion. Legend states that a powerful male leader, whose name was lost and is only known of as The First Nunh, stirred his brethren into a bloody insurrection which resulted in the total massacre of the scholars and the flight of the miqo'te from the Crucible. The First Nunh led them to follow the trail of a falling star to the east, which brought the fleeing tribals into the lee of [[Xelphatol]] just in time for the calamitous Great Flood which would spell the end of the Fifth Astral Era. When the waters receded, the miqo'te descended from the mountains and settled into the new tundra, founding the Home Sept of the newly-named Falling Stars Tribe.<br>

===History of the Falling Stars with the Ixal, and Other Outsiders===
Due to their proximity to the mountains of Xelphatol, the native home of the avian beastmen known as the Ixal, the Falling Stars have had a history of open warfare and savage hostility with the beastman. It cannot be denied that the miqo'te tribals were the first to invade the lands of the Ixal, even if it was in the name of surviving the Great Flood, and that from the first little to no effort was made toward diplomacy. Their time in captivity had instilled into the Falling Stars an intense xenophobia, teaching them that "Outsiders" could never be trusted. To this day, Warriors of the tribe adorn themselves with trophies claimed from the birdmen, from feathers to talons and eyes.<br>
The hostility of the Falling Stars extended toward all Outsiders. Though natives of other neighboring lands rarely had reason to venture forth in the bleak tundra of their home, invariably any who were discovered were seen as threats and treated no better than the Ixal. Their knowledge of their home land, coupled with their physical prowess and disinclination to wander, had kept the existence of the sept concealed for over fifteen centuries... <br>

===A new age===

WIP AFTER THIS POINT

==Culture==

A note regarding the Coeurl culture at large and methods of communication in specific. Due to their proximity and the harshness of the environment they have carved their villages out of, the Coeurl have developed highly subtle forms of silent and near-silent communication using facial expressions, ear placement, and tail and hand motions. They use this form of communication amongst each other and to recognize one another while out in the world at large. As this is their default form of communication, when Coeurl tribe members are in society at large they are often regarded as somewhat twitchy.

===Politics===
Each of the three villages in the Coeurl tribe follows a system of government whereby five of the eldest members of the village- three females past child-bearing age and two males past hunting age- come together to discuss the good of the village. It is this Council that determines whether or not to declare proper war, when to look to new hunting grounds, and mediates disputes involving other villages, disputes between the various traditional ''ton'' (vocation-based fraternities and sororities), and disputes between nunhs. It is also this Council that determines which members of the tribe will be considered as 'Ankobia' and 'Master Hunter' (the titles are the same regardless of sex) and are qualified to lead the younger warriors and hunters, respectively, through their training.

===The Jali===
The position of bardpriest, known as ''jali'' is an important one in the villages of the Coeurl tribe both politically and spiritually. She plays the role of historian, mediator in minor arguments, spiritual bridge between the tribe and the elementals and the goddess, song-singer, dance teacher, and psychopomp along the rites of passage. <br><br>
The jali position is always held by a female and is passed only to female progeny as it requires too much movement between villages and into the outer world to be held by a tia or a nunh, who must be present in the village in order to protect it. <br><br>
Each village has it's own jali, however the jali of each village is expected to travel into the other villages as well as into the outer world frequently in order to maintain positive relations with the spirits and to learn the stories that are their stock in trade. Whenever one village's jali is gone, the other two jalis and their daughters are expected to pick up the duties. The only time all three jalis are required to be in the villages are during the two great festivals.<br><br>
The jali of the three villages are related. When the tribe crossed the ice in the 5th Umbral Era, one female had the ability that is now called 'The Echo'. She had three daughters. Over time, those three daughters have either raised or adopted daughters with that same ability so that they can trace their lineage in an unbroken line back to the first. The Echo has manifested in various different ways, leading to the jali's various duties. The current jali of the three villages consider one another sisters and have raised their daughters to do the same.

===Religion===
As with most of their sub-race, the Coeurl tribe worships the sun goddess [[Azeyma, the Warden]]. In her honor they consider themselves the ''warriors of the clouds'' and celebrate two large festivals annually. The tribe also reveres multiple manifestations of elemental spirits- fire and water being two elements of greater importance due to the villages' desert lifestyle. The reverence for the coeurl has made that figure a creature of folk tales, morality stories, as well as an intercessor between the tribe and Azeyma.

====Azeyma's Rest====
Azeyma's Rest is the summer solstice, when the Coeurl tribe believes that Azeyma shines her brightest before beginning to hide her radiant face behind her fan. It is a day to celebrate accomplishments of the year, to show one's strength, fertility, joy, and pride to the shining face of the Warden. It is often celebrated with elaborate dances, songs testifying the accomplishments of the tribe as a whole as well as individual members, and many times it is this day when young tias will attempt to challenge the nunhs of their village.<br><br>
On the day of Azeyma's Rest, the Coeurl tribe's largest number of courtship rituals are acted out. While a small number of rituals occur on other days of the year, it is considered good luck to be courted on the longest day of the year, as it is believed that Azeyma will bless the pairing with fertility and will allow the new female to join her sisters with that nunh in good harmony.<br><br>
Previously, there was a ritual enacted on Azeyma's Rest wherein a tia was chosen by the Council, sent into the wilds for 24 hours with nothing to eat or drink and no weapons. Should he return, he would be granted nunh status for that shortest night of the year and that night only and he should have his choice of any of the women of the tribe who would accept him, as they believed him to be blessed by Azeyma herself. Should a child be born of that symbolic union, they were almost universally heterochromic, a symbol of great importance to the Coeurl tribe and, indeed, the Seekers of the Sun as a whole. This ritual has largely fallen out of favor (at least publically) due to outside pressures from visitors to the tribe, who consider the practice overly superstitious. <br><br>
Azeyma's Rest is considered a holiday primarily celebrating the masculine elements of the tribe, with music, dancing, and story-telling following this theme. It is occasionally referred to as the 'male's new year'.

====Azeyma's Rising====
Azeyma's Rising falls on the winter solstice, near the end of the rainy season, when the Coeurl tribe believes that the Warden is beginning to rise from her long period of resting and is finally prepared to draw back her fan. As compared to the more boisterous celebrations of Azeyma's Rest, Azyema's Rising is a deeply spiritual holiday and is focused on preparing of one's self and one's village to move into the brightness of the Warden's light once more- and to be worthy of it. A holiday focusing on relationships between the spirits and the 'real' world, each village's cubs perform a ritual dance for which they have practiced for months wherein they form a chain that resembled a great fork of lightning striking through the three villages, moving from one all the way across the other two, until each dwelling and gathering place has been touched by their footpads- which have been stained a pale blue by grinding a flower that grows only in the rainy season.<br><br>
This same pale blue stain will be re-applied to the gates that stand at the entrance to each village, a symbolic rekindling of the bond between the Coeurl people and the lightning-bearing creature they revere.<br><br>
When the sun has set, many lanterns are lit and great feasts are prepared, and the village's female shaman and bard, known as a ''jali'', will step forward and begin to tell one of the stories of how Azeyma came by her fan. In the most popular version, the Warden's radiance was so dazzling the Miqo'te people became lost and wandered in the desert. They would have died had it not been for a great coeurl queen, who saw the brilliant goddess and took pity on the plight of the Miqo'te people, slipping between them and the shining sun's light. The coeurl's fur was burned black wherever the lady's eyes fell, like sunspots left behind one's closed eyes, but the lady was inspired, and fashioned herself a fan to shield her chosen people.<br><br>
Once the story is told, the jali will partake of a drug to send herself into a light trance as the village sings and dances tributes to the coeurl and Azeyma. While in said trance, the jali will attempt to seek the elemental spirits of fire, water, and (should she be lucky) the coeurl itself to ask for a year of abundant game, healthy childbearing, and safe passage for the cubs passing into adulthood.<br><br>
Given the deeply spiritual nature of this holiday as well as it's focus on beginnings, Azeyma's Rising is themed around the feminine and is considered the 'female's new year'.

===Rites of Passage===

When a miqo'te cub of the Coeurl tribe approaches their twelfth name-day, they are considered to be coming of age.<br><br>
At this time, the youth is taken aside by the Council and the jali of their village and is taught the history of their people and the ritual songs and dances of passage. They are also placed in seclusion until they complete the ritual items that will show the villages their change in status. Males and females both embroider their vests and headscarves and both sexes must complete the creation of basic weaponry- often a bow and arrows or a spear- for the final portion of the ritual. <br><br>
Once the weaponry is fashioned and the dances and songs have been learned to the Council and bardpriest's satisfaction, the youth is sent out into the desert of Thanalan for one full day and one full night. They are not given food nor water, having to find these things on their own. Many Coeurl tribesmembers relate that they are given visions during this time, shown the way to prey or to water sources by elemental spirits, by the coeurl, or by following the shadow of Azeyma's fan.<br><br>
When the youth returns to the village at dawn, they are gifted with their embroidered clothing, feasted, and welcomed into the adolescent world. A small celebration is thrown in their village and the youth must sing and dance what they have learned both from the jali and on their spiritual and survival journey into the wilds of the desert. When the celebration is over, the youth is free to choose a ton, to leave the communal housing of their mothers, and to learn a trade. It is at this time that tattooing is common, with many Coeurl adolescents choosing to get tattoos on their faces or elsewhere detailing their journey into the wild.

====The 'Ton'====

The ton are the communities within the villages of adolescent male and female miqo'te that are learning a trade. All of the ton are open to both sexes, however living arrangements are divided into male and female communal housing with an elder member of the ton so as to discourage courting or unsupervised pairings. The ton are used much like the outer world uses their various schools- there is a warrior's ton where the adolescents will learn the arts of war, tactics, how to weild various weapons, and how to work in a team, a hunter's ton that focuses on archery and tracking, a cooking ton, a weaver's ton, et cetera. <br><br>
The only profession that does not have a ton is that of the jali. This profession is passed down strictly through bloodlines due to the extensive amount of training required to learn the songs, dances, and rituals. The adolescent progeny of the jali in the villages are encouraged to join other tons, however their studies as the future bardpriest in the village take precedence. <br><br>
The warrior's ton is an excellent example of how tons work in Coeurl society. An adolescent joins at the lowest level, the ''Sword Bearer'' or ''Afena''. At this level, the adolescent warrior is given a mock wooden weapon and is typically treated as a runner, expected to learn by being silent and watching their elders. They perform many of the chores of the communal housing in order to learn discipline. They typically spar only with other Afena. In war, the Afena are camp runners, thus the title sword-bearer. The next level is ''Apprentice'' or ''Adum''. Upon graduating to apprentice level, the warrior has been taken under the wing of a older student and is given a blunted metal weapon and begins being taught tactics, the way of fighting that the Coeurl tribe favors. Adum are allowed to request sparring sessions with members of their own rank as well as the rank above them. They still perform chores but usually only do those related to attending to their mentors. In war, the Adum act as squires, sticking close to their mentors and providing for any and every need. The next rank in the ton is ''Warrior'' or ''Asafo''- these are the bulk of the fighting force of the village and are adults in the tribe that have undergone their adulthood rite of passage and returned to become mentors in the ton. Very rarely a nunh will be a part of this rank, however it is mostly made up of tias and females not currently bearing cubs. The final rank is the head of the warrior ton as well as the de facto general in times of war, the ''Ankobia''. This rank is chosen by the Council from the best warriors in the ton and is typically held until resignation or death in battle.<br><br>
The non-combat focused tons, such as the weaver's ton or the cooking ton, have slightly different structures and graduation standards, however they generally hold to the same idea as the more martial tons. The biggest difference is that the heads of these tons are not appointed by the Council but are chosen by the ton in an internal vote held among the adult members of the group.

====Singing/Hunting the World====

The final ritual most Coeurl tribespeople undergo is that of Hunting the World (called Singing the World for the daughters of jali). It is a relatively new rite, begun when Ul'dah began being settled so close to their traditional hunting grounds which introduced the tribe to many new people and new cultures. The legend goes that after several failed raids on the fledgling city, attempting to drive the intruders off thier territory, the three Councils met and it was decided that the tribe would approach the settlers as an opportunity.<br><br>
The ritual occurs when an adolescent miqo'te has reached the second rank in his or her ton- or in the case of the jali's heir, when her mother has determined it to be time. At this time, the mentor that has been guiding the miqo'te will gift them with a simple weapon, rations, and a piece of clothing embroidered with symbols for protection and knowledge. The youth is encouraged to travel as far and wide as they can in order to bring back some new piece of knowledge relevant to not just their ton but all of the tons, whether it is a new recipe, a new way of sword crafting, or a new song. Once they have hunted new prey across the four corners of Eorzea, they are to return to their village and present their findings on the next Azeyma's Rest, where their position in the tribe will change from adolescent to adult. <br><br>
It is at this time that tias are considered 'old enough' to start challenging nunhs in earnest, though some unruly adolescent males attempt it prior to their Hunt. It is at this time also that females will change the embroidery on their clothing to indicate they are open to being courted by one of the nunhs, though again, younger females occasionally are mated to nunhs prior to their Hunt or Song, particularly during seasons of war.

===Family Structure and Children===

As with other Keepers of the Sun, the Coeurl tribe keeps to the traditions of having a limited number of males who breed, known as 'nunh's and a larger number of non-breeding males known as 'tia's. In the three villages, the number of nunhs is never greater than four and currently sits at three in each village, with approximately ten to fifteen tias per village. <br><br>
The number of tias include adolescent boys and old men out of their prime but still technically of breeding age and so may seem inflated. It does not include the two males on each Council, nor the males of extreme age, as they are no longer considered competition for the nunhs.<br><br>
Each nunh typically is mated to roughly ten females of breeding age, though that number is somewhat fluid depending on the females of the village and the nunh's efforts to maintain the relationships beyond simple breeding. <br><br>
Typically, the females live in communal housing, sharing the hunting, gathering, cooking, and child-rearing duties amongst one another, with the very young and very old tias assisting. Each member of a nunh's household is considered family despite previous blood ties, with the females of a household referring to one another as 'sisters' or 'mothers' and the tias of a village either 'little brother' or 'uncle' depending on youth or age. The council members are always 'grandmother/father' depending on sex. The nunhs are typically not referred to in this familial manner, whether due to incest taboos or due to some honorary status attached to their names it is not clear. <br><br>
Childrearing is a communal process that begins after the cub's eighth day after birth. Prior to that day, the mother and cub are separated from the rest of the tribe and visited by the jali daily so that they may rest and be kept safe from negative influences. On the eighth day, the cub is presented to the tribe and the jali performs a brief ritual so that the elemental spirits will reveal the cub's name. The name is then typically not used in daily life, most Coeurl preferring nicknames or petnames until the cub is old enough to undergo their coming of age ritual.

====Courtship====

The courtship rituals of the Coeurl tribe are varied but are based on exogenous systems- it is taboo to join with a nunh within one's village. Therefore, holidays such as Azeyma's Rest and Azeyma's Rising are extremely important cultural exchanges wherein the females of the villages meet the nunhs and tias of their neighbors. Dancing is a common form of flirting, with the females dancing before the nunhs and the nunhs dancing before the females in turn in displays of strength, skill, beauty, and sexual prowess. As mentioned previously, such displays are common on Azeyma's Rest.<br><br>
When a nunh decides upon a female he would like to court, he will typically give her a small gift- jewelry is common, as are small embroidered or woven swatches of cloth, or for the martially inclined female, beautifully inlaid or filigreed small weapons like knives. Once the gift is received and accepted, the nunh will then stage a ceremonial kidnapping of the female from her ton, typically with the elder member of the communal dwelling's approval. If the kidnapping is done well, the female will move her things the next morning from the ton into the communal housing of the nunh's other mates. If the female is disappointed in the kidnapping, the gift, or the nunh in any way, she will petition one of the tias of her village, who will arrive to return her home to her village. <br><br>
The concepts of marriage and divorce are not followed in the tribe, though they are aware of such things existing. If a female feels neglected or displeased with the nunh she is mated to, she may leave his dwelling and either return to her village or, if another nunh is courting her, she may be ceremonially kidnapped from her current nunh. This typically occurs with younger females that have not yet borne cubs that are mated to older nunhs and often heralds a nunh being challenged.

====Nunhs and Tias====

When a tia decides to challenge a nunh for breeding rights, there are a few ways in which the Coeurl tribe typically settles such challenges. It is the nunh's right to choose the weapon and the tia's right to choose the terms- first outside the circle, to first blood, etc. It is strictly taboo for a challenge to occur during a time of war, though it is not unheard of for a tia to take advantage of the chaos of combat to eliminate a rival and petition for their position. Typical challenges occur during spring and summer, with the most common forms of combat being wrestling matches (claws and teeth being absolutely necessary for the Coeurl version of this sport), swordplay to first blood, even games of skill such as a game called ''Oware'', which is played on a board with several pits and small glass beads.<br><br>
If a tia is defeated, they lose face for a short time (particularly if extremely cocky) but can work themselves back into the good graces of the tribe relatively easily. It is generally seen as extremely poor judgement for multiple tias to challenge a nunh back to back and should the Council suspect that tias have banded together to take out a nunh they may punish the offenders extremely severely- exile being the accepted punishment.<br><br>
Should a nunh lose his place in the village, he will be taken in as a respected tia but the females in his dwelling typically return to their respective villages with their cubs where they will move in with their mothers or go to the tons where they lived prior to joining with the nunh. The new nunh must go about the courtship rituals from the beginning and establish himself anew.

===Warfare===
The Coeurl tribe is typically peaceful amongst themselves. They have a long and bloody history of warfare with the lizard beastmen the amal'jaa to the east as well as minor skirmishes with other miqo'te tribes and the occasional bandit troupe that attempts to encroach upon their very large territory. This includes pirates attempting to use the Bay of Dha'yuz as a safe bearth. As a result of this, the tribe has learned to translate their natural speed, hearing, and sense of smell into powerful guerilla-warfare style combat.<br><br>
Considering one of the tribe's tons is focused entirely on hand-to-hand combat (the warriors) and another is focused on archery and tracking, the Coeurl tribe is skilled in using small groups of combatants to surround an enemy, whereupon they flush them and using silent or near-silent communcation, they force their enemy into running combat whenever possible, picking them off. When the enemy stands to face them or proves to be better armed or armored, the tribe uses their knowledge of the land to set up traps, not above using their own or one of their enemies as bait.<br><br>
Typically, the Coeurl tribe does not have any residents with the ability to call upon magical forces, though the occasional prodigy has been known to occur. Such usually leaves the tribe during their period of Hunting the World. It is not unheard of for there to be one or more members of the tribe with the skill to summon manifestations of the elementals, however, and the jali are generally recognized as skilled healers- whether due to a knowledge of herbs, spices, and other primitive alchemy or due to a skill at conjury is not clear at this time.<br><br>
In battle, the Coeurl tribe will often paint themselves with dark blue symbols and stain the pads and claws of their hands so that should they be unarmed, they still strike with the power of the spirits.

====Ritual Weapons====

The Coeurl tribe practices a unique battle ritual in that they will only use certain materials in weapons used to kill enemies versus weapons used to hunt. The belief is that hunting is a sacred rite, as is battle, and each must adhere to it's own ways. A hunting bow, for instance, may be strung with the gut of one of the miqo'te's first kills, whereas a war bow will be strung with the hair of the first enemy to be successfully faced.

===Death===

The tribe's view on death is one of renewal- death is part of the cycle of life and therefore the spirit of the dead must be encouraged to walk on. Upon the death of a village member, the village will gather to cremate the body. Upon cremation, it is fervently wished that the deceased miqo'te will go on to “live in the Warden's warmth”. The ashes are then taken and used in the casting of several small bells which are hung in the windows and doorways of the deceased's former home or ton, where the desert wind will cause them to ring joyfully and remind those still living of the brightness of the life beyond.

===Impact of Outside Cultures===

The Coeurl tribe are not located terribly far from Ul'dah. As a result of their proximity to this large, bustling city, many of the younger members of the tribe who leave on their Hunt or Song leave and do not return. Whether they are lured away from the tribal society by the larger promise of riches, fame, and adventure or victimized due to their naivete is not clear, however it is certain that each year a few Coeurl adolescents do not return from their rite of passage.<br><br>
Overall, the Coeurl tribe takes on a somewhat conflicting approach to the outside world. “ I against my brother, my brothers and I against my cousins, then my cousins and I against strangers.” is a common tribal saying but the concept of ''diyafa'' or hospitality is deeply ingrained into the Coeurl. Even an enemy that requests hospitality is granted it and to turn one that asks away is a deeply shameful act. The villagers seem to be most content to have the greater world held at arm's distance but will not hesitate to welcome it should it pass their gates.<br><br>
That is not to say that the tribe is a dying one. The tribe has learned many things due to the process of the Song/Hunt and since the Calamity they have taken in orphans and members from the more nomadic tribes in the area that were displaced when the Deepvoid appeared. As a result, the tribe is currently in a state of some flux, with changes being made to previously rigid systems. It is uncertain whether the Coeurl tribe of current day and the Coeurl tribe of the future will resemble one another at all.

==Art and Music==

===Dress===

The Coeurl tribe favors loose, flowing clothing, dyed or woven with a variety of bright colors. After the coming of age ritual, the villagers each have a ''tagelmust'' or combination turban/veil that is embroidered more and more elaborately throughout their life. Typically, the tagelmust is dyed a bright blue using a method that requires the dyer to pound the color into the cloth due to the lack of readily available water. As the miqo'te grows, they add embroidery to the headscarf until it is so thickly embroidered with the details of their deeds that the original blue is almost invisible.

====Weaving====

The members of the weaver's ton of the Coeurl tribe have learned a great deal from the outside world, especially Ul'dah, and have become quite adept at using their natural dexterity to create elaborate designs where each color has it's own meaning. The tribe has become known in certain circles for the brilliance of their colors and the delicacy of it's designs and trade relations have tentatively begun to export the Coeurl weaving into Ul'dah.<br><br>
Some of the colors and themes common in Coeurl textile work are:
{|
|-
| valign=”top” |
* Light blue- spiritual ties, lightning
* Dark blue- strength, power in battle
* Gold/Orange- fertility, joy, glory; associated with Azeyma
| valighn=”top” |
* Purple- femininity, fertility
* Green- healing, growth, purity
* Black- festivals, spiritual energy
|}

====Jewelry====

Jewelry is common for both males and females in the Coeurl tribe, with designs varying but trending towards the abstract and elaborate. The tribe favors the use of symbols to evoke adages, old stories, and folk heros, and these symbols are very popular in jewelry. Crystals, gemstones, and precious metals are all common, with most jewelry being made using either the lost-wax casting method or the filigree method, both of which favor delicate designs and allow for a great deal of intricacy.<br><br>
The village nunhs each carry a ceremonial weapon that is more appropriately considered a piece of jewelry. A sword created out of fulgarite glass- the glass that is made when lightning hits sand. Carefully crafted by the best swordsmiths in the villages, these swords are passed on when the nunhs are challenged and are a symbol of both their strength and the fragility of their position in the tribe.<br><br>
Females tend to favor small bells around wrists and ankles when in the village.<br><br>
At this time, the miners of Ul'dah have not realized that the sands around the Coeurl villages are rich in naturally occuring gold and precious stones.

===Tattoos===

Much like the jewelry, the tattoos of the Coeurl tribe trend towards abstract symbols with deeper meanings. Most members of the tribe are tattooed in one form or another, many receiving their tattoos at their coming of age ceremony and adding to them after their Hunt/Song. It is common in the tribe to receive tattoos on the face, across the cheeks and nose, as well as on the upper arms and across the shoulders.

===Music===

====Common Instruments====
The Coeurl tribe favors percussion instruments, several different kinds of drums being common among the villages. Each village has a very large drum meant to be used as a message relay system, all the way down to very small bongo-style drum sets held between the knees. Each of the three villages have a sacred drum that the jali uses when doing ritual songs, made of cactuar with coeurl hide. These drums are believed to beat with the sacred heart of the coeurl itself and have been carefully tended by the jali over many generations.<br><br>
Besides the drums, instruments like bells and bone flutes are common, with many of the tribe adorning wrists, ankles, ears, and tails with small tinkling accessories to create a musical counterpoint to the heavy percussion common in their dances.<br><br>
The Coeurl tribe also use their voices in various ululations and calls, having a much wider range of vocalizations than the Hyur, Roegadyn, or Lalafell.

====Dance====

Dance is an extremely important part of Coeurl culture. It is part of their courtship rituals, part of their coming of age rituals, part of their religious rites, and a part of their spiritual life. Most Coeurl dances involve the entire body from the tips of their ears to the ends of their toes and are driven by strong percussion created by drums and footpads hitting the earth.<br><br>
In a species where communication can be subtly changed by ear and tail position, the ears and tails of the Coeurl are a big part of many of their story-dances, used to evoke emotions while the face is hidden by a mask or the hands.

Coeurl ceremonial garb is worn during their dances and there are a multitude of different dances for males, females, and both.

[[Category:Troupe]]

Falling Stars Tribe

2019-07-11T20:08:03Z

Anstarra: History begins to be filled in...

{{speculation}}

Please note: This page is a Work In Progress based off the template used by the Coeurl Tribe

The '''Falling Stars Tribe''', an off-shoot of the [[:Category: Miqo'te Seeker of the Sun|Seekers of the Sun]] sub-race of [[Miqo'te]], are a historically insular tribe located in the tundra to the northeast of [[Coerthas]], in the lee of the mountains of [[Xelphatol]]. Until a few Turns ago, very few knew of the tribe's existence, but in recent times due to the expansionist ambitions of their now-deceased Nunh, they came into conflict with the city-states of [[Eorzea]]. Now, a peace has been established, and the once-xenophobic Falling Stars have taken an exploratory interest in the world beyond their borders.

{| style= "width: 200px; height: 200px; float: right;" border="1"
| '''Race''' : [[Miqo'te]]
| '''Clan''' : Seekers of the Sun
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Population''' : ~400
| '''Number of Septs''' : 3
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Religion''' : [[Azeyma, the Warden]]; the Eight; the Fallen Nunh
| '''Naming Conventions''' : X' (pronounced ''she'')
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Location''' : North of the Black Shroud and east of Coerthas, in the tundra around the mountains of Xelphatol.
|}

==History==

WIP AFTER THIS POINT

As with the rest of their species, the Lynx tribe arrived in [[Eorzea]] in the Fifth Umbral Era, when ice bridges were created across continents. The ancestors of the current tribe followed not only their traditional prey but also the visions of their tribal leaders and the beast that they revered, the lynx. During the end of the Fifth Umbral Era, when the ice began to melt, the tribe migrated to the north and eastern portion of Eorzea, preferring the more northern climes associated with their totem. Much of the tribe remained essentially nomadic, though each claimed their territories in various parts of the more northern regions of [[Aldenard]]. <br>

===A sept sequestered===
During the War of the Magi, in the waning years of the Fifth Astral Era, a cabal of Nymian scholars broke away from the city-state. It is unknown whether they were exiled for unsound practices, or needed secrecy and privacy to complete their work; what is known is that they constructed a subterranean bunker and research station dedicated to discovering the secrets of immortality, which came to be known as the Crucible of Knowledge (or simply the Crucible). Seeing their work as the only chance to survive the War of the Magi, these scholars made use of the resources they could find, in the form of an isolated sept of Lynx tribe miqo'te.<br>
The lore of the Falling Stars states that the experiments performed upon their ancestors were done against their will. The tonberry Ibes Habes, survivor of the city-state proper, insists that his fellows would never have stooped to such barbarity (though it is worth noting that Habes to this day seems to consider miqo'te to be little more than beasts, so the impartiality of his recollection is subject to some doubt). Regardless of how it began, the experiments were long-running and kept fiercely isolated from contamination, necessitating profound adjustments to the aetherial makeup of the subjects over a series of generations. Their aetherial pathways were completely rerouted, resulting in hardy, resilient spoken whose bodies were highly susceptible to and able to recover from further aetherial manipulation; the downside was that this internal focus rendered them incapable of expressing aether beyond their own bodies in anything but the most basic transmission. In essence, though capable of channeling aether through their own bodies, the Falling Stars are fundamentally incapable of wielding external magic (such as thaumaturgy, conjury, etc).<br>
A side-benefit, of interest to the scholars, was an extremely high resilience against bio-aetherial degradation, which, in addition to rendering their bodies proof against early ravages of ageing, also insulates them against potential deleterious effects of inbreeding.. a valuable trait for multi-generation research subjects.<br>

===The flight of the Falling Stars===
After an unknown time (though scattered notes suggest it was at least several decades, possibly as much as a century), the subjects rose up in rebellion. Legend states that a powerful male leader, whose name was lost and is only known of as The First Nunh, stirred his brethren into a bloody insurrection which resulted in the total massacre of the scholars and the flight of the miqo'te from the Crucible. The First Nunh led them to follow the trail of a falling star to the east, which brought the fleeing tribals into the lee of [[Xelphatol]] just in time for the calamitous Great Flood which would spell the end of the Fifth Astral Era. When the waters receded, the miqo'te descended from the mountains and settled into the new tundra, founding the Home Sept of the newly-named Falling Stars Tribe.<br>

WIP AFTER THIS POINT
===History of the Coeurl Tribe with the Amal'jaa===
Due to their proximity to the grasslands of Pagi'than, the native home of the lizard-like beastmen known as the Amal'jaa, the Coeurl tribe has had a history of open warfare with the beastman. Each side has claimed that their lands were invaded first, though the true first aggressor has been lost in a long history of small raids, larger battles, cease-fires, and near-massacres. At the current time, the Coeurl tribe has not been observed crossing the border into Pagi'than or Amal'jaa lands, however the beastmen have been increasing their raids into Thanalan- even so far as the city of [[Ul'dah]]- so it is likely only a matter of time before the current cold war escalates once more.

==Culture==

A note regarding the Coeurl culture at large and methods of communication in specific. Due to their proximity and the harshness of the environment they have carved their villages out of, the Coeurl have developed highly subtle forms of silent and near-silent communication using facial expressions, ear placement, and tail and hand motions. They use this form of communication amongst each other and to recognize one another while out in the world at large. As this is their default form of communication, when Coeurl tribe members are in society at large they are often regarded as somewhat twitchy.

===Politics===
Each of the three villages in the Coeurl tribe follows a system of government whereby five of the eldest members of the village- three females past child-bearing age and two males past hunting age- come together to discuss the good of the village. It is this Council that determines whether or not to declare proper war, when to look to new hunting grounds, and mediates disputes involving other villages, disputes between the various traditional ''ton'' (vocation-based fraternities and sororities), and disputes between nunhs. It is also this Council that determines which members of the tribe will be considered as 'Ankobia' and 'Master Hunter' (the titles are the same regardless of sex) and are qualified to lead the younger warriors and hunters, respectively, through their training.

===The Jali===
The position of bardpriest, known as ''jali'' is an important one in the villages of the Coeurl tribe both politically and spiritually. She plays the role of historian, mediator in minor arguments, spiritual bridge between the tribe and the elementals and the goddess, song-singer, dance teacher, and psychopomp along the rites of passage. <br><br>
The jali position is always held by a female and is passed only to female progeny as it requires too much movement between villages and into the outer world to be held by a tia or a nunh, who must be present in the village in order to protect it. <br><br>
Each village has it's own jali, however the jali of each village is expected to travel into the other villages as well as into the outer world frequently in order to maintain positive relations with the spirits and to learn the stories that are their stock in trade. Whenever one village's jali is gone, the other two jalis and their daughters are expected to pick up the duties. The only time all three jalis are required to be in the villages are during the two great festivals.<br><br>
The jali of the three villages are related. When the tribe crossed the ice in the 5th Umbral Era, one female had the ability that is now called 'The Echo'. She had three daughters. Over time, those three daughters have either raised or adopted daughters with that same ability so that they can trace their lineage in an unbroken line back to the first. The Echo has manifested in various different ways, leading to the jali's various duties. The current jali of the three villages consider one another sisters and have raised their daughters to do the same.

===Religion===
As with most of their sub-race, the Coeurl tribe worships the sun goddess [[Azeyma, the Warden]]. In her honor they consider themselves the ''warriors of the clouds'' and celebrate two large festivals annually. The tribe also reveres multiple manifestations of elemental spirits- fire and water being two elements of greater importance due to the villages' desert lifestyle. The reverence for the coeurl has made that figure a creature of folk tales, morality stories, as well as an intercessor between the tribe and Azeyma.

====Azeyma's Rest====
Azeyma's Rest is the summer solstice, when the Coeurl tribe believes that Azeyma shines her brightest before beginning to hide her radiant face behind her fan. It is a day to celebrate accomplishments of the year, to show one's strength, fertility, joy, and pride to the shining face of the Warden. It is often celebrated with elaborate dances, songs testifying the accomplishments of the tribe as a whole as well as individual members, and many times it is this day when young tias will attempt to challenge the nunhs of their village.<br><br>
On the day of Azeyma's Rest, the Coeurl tribe's largest number of courtship rituals are acted out. While a small number of rituals occur on other days of the year, it is considered good luck to be courted on the longest day of the year, as it is believed that Azeyma will bless the pairing with fertility and will allow the new female to join her sisters with that nunh in good harmony.<br><br>
Previously, there was a ritual enacted on Azeyma's Rest wherein a tia was chosen by the Council, sent into the wilds for 24 hours with nothing to eat or drink and no weapons. Should he return, he would be granted nunh status for that shortest night of the year and that night only and he should have his choice of any of the women of the tribe who would accept him, as they believed him to be blessed by Azeyma herself. Should a child be born of that symbolic union, they were almost universally heterochromic, a symbol of great importance to the Coeurl tribe and, indeed, the Seekers of the Sun as a whole. This ritual has largely fallen out of favor (at least publically) due to outside pressures from visitors to the tribe, who consider the practice overly superstitious. <br><br>
Azeyma's Rest is considered a holiday primarily celebrating the masculine elements of the tribe, with music, dancing, and story-telling following this theme. It is occasionally referred to as the 'male's new year'.

====Azeyma's Rising====
Azeyma's Rising falls on the winter solstice, near the end of the rainy season, when the Coeurl tribe believes that the Warden is beginning to rise from her long period of resting and is finally prepared to draw back her fan. As compared to the more boisterous celebrations of Azeyma's Rest, Azyema's Rising is a deeply spiritual holiday and is focused on preparing of one's self and one's village to move into the brightness of the Warden's light once more- and to be worthy of it. A holiday focusing on relationships between the spirits and the 'real' world, each village's cubs perform a ritual dance for which they have practiced for months wherein they form a chain that resembled a great fork of lightning striking through the three villages, moving from one all the way across the other two, until each dwelling and gathering place has been touched by their footpads- which have been stained a pale blue by grinding a flower that grows only in the rainy season.<br><br>
This same pale blue stain will be re-applied to the gates that stand at the entrance to each village, a symbolic rekindling of the bond between the Coeurl people and the lightning-bearing creature they revere.<br><br>
When the sun has set, many lanterns are lit and great feasts are prepared, and the village's female shaman and bard, known as a ''jali'', will step forward and begin to tell one of the stories of how Azeyma came by her fan. In the most popular version, the Warden's radiance was so dazzling the Miqo'te people became lost and wandered in the desert. They would have died had it not been for a great coeurl queen, who saw the brilliant goddess and took pity on the plight of the Miqo'te people, slipping between them and the shining sun's light. The coeurl's fur was burned black wherever the lady's eyes fell, like sunspots left behind one's closed eyes, but the lady was inspired, and fashioned herself a fan to shield her chosen people.<br><br>
Once the story is told, the jali will partake of a drug to send herself into a light trance as the village sings and dances tributes to the coeurl and Azeyma. While in said trance, the jali will attempt to seek the elemental spirits of fire, water, and (should she be lucky) the coeurl itself to ask for a year of abundant game, healthy childbearing, and safe passage for the cubs passing into adulthood.<br><br>
Given the deeply spiritual nature of this holiday as well as it's focus on beginnings, Azeyma's Rising is themed around the feminine and is considered the 'female's new year'.

===Rites of Passage===

When a miqo'te cub of the Coeurl tribe approaches their twelfth name-day, they are considered to be coming of age.<br><br>
At this time, the youth is taken aside by the Council and the jali of their village and is taught the history of their people and the ritual songs and dances of passage. They are also placed in seclusion until they complete the ritual items that will show the villages their change in status. Males and females both embroider their vests and headscarves and both sexes must complete the creation of basic weaponry- often a bow and arrows or a spear- for the final portion of the ritual. <br><br>
Once the weaponry is fashioned and the dances and songs have been learned to the Council and bardpriest's satisfaction, the youth is sent out into the desert of Thanalan for one full day and one full night. They are not given food nor water, having to find these things on their own. Many Coeurl tribesmembers relate that they are given visions during this time, shown the way to prey or to water sources by elemental spirits, by the coeurl, or by following the shadow of Azeyma's fan.<br><br>
When the youth returns to the village at dawn, they are gifted with their embroidered clothing, feasted, and welcomed into the adolescent world. A small celebration is thrown in their village and the youth must sing and dance what they have learned both from the jali and on their spiritual and survival journey into the wilds of the desert. When the celebration is over, the youth is free to choose a ton, to leave the communal housing of their mothers, and to learn a trade. It is at this time that tattooing is common, with many Coeurl adolescents choosing to get tattoos on their faces or elsewhere detailing their journey into the wild.

====The 'Ton'====

The ton are the communities within the villages of adolescent male and female miqo'te that are learning a trade. All of the ton are open to both sexes, however living arrangements are divided into male and female communal housing with an elder member of the ton so as to discourage courting or unsupervised pairings. The ton are used much like the outer world uses their various schools- there is a warrior's ton where the adolescents will learn the arts of war, tactics, how to weild various weapons, and how to work in a team, a hunter's ton that focuses on archery and tracking, a cooking ton, a weaver's ton, et cetera. <br><br>
The only profession that does not have a ton is that of the jali. This profession is passed down strictly through bloodlines due to the extensive amount of training required to learn the songs, dances, and rituals. The adolescent progeny of the jali in the villages are encouraged to join other tons, however their studies as the future bardpriest in the village take precedence. <br><br>
The warrior's ton is an excellent example of how tons work in Coeurl society. An adolescent joins at the lowest level, the ''Sword Bearer'' or ''Afena''. At this level, the adolescent warrior is given a mock wooden weapon and is typically treated as a runner, expected to learn by being silent and watching their elders. They perform many of the chores of the communal housing in order to learn discipline. They typically spar only with other Afena. In war, the Afena are camp runners, thus the title sword-bearer. The next level is ''Apprentice'' or ''Adum''. Upon graduating to apprentice level, the warrior has been taken under the wing of a older student and is given a blunted metal weapon and begins being taught tactics, the way of fighting that the Coeurl tribe favors. Adum are allowed to request sparring sessions with members of their own rank as well as the rank above them. They still perform chores but usually only do those related to attending to their mentors. In war, the Adum act as squires, sticking close to their mentors and providing for any and every need. The next rank in the ton is ''Warrior'' or ''Asafo''- these are the bulk of the fighting force of the village and are adults in the tribe that have undergone their adulthood rite of passage and returned to become mentors in the ton. Very rarely a nunh will be a part of this rank, however it is mostly made up of tias and females not currently bearing cubs. The final rank is the head of the warrior ton as well as the de facto general in times of war, the ''Ankobia''. This rank is chosen by the Council from the best warriors in the ton and is typically held until resignation or death in battle.<br><br>
The non-combat focused tons, such as the weaver's ton or the cooking ton, have slightly different structures and graduation standards, however they generally hold to the same idea as the more martial tons. The biggest difference is that the heads of these tons are not appointed by the Council but are chosen by the ton in an internal vote held among the adult members of the group.

====Singing/Hunting the World====

The final ritual most Coeurl tribespeople undergo is that of Hunting the World (called Singing the World for the daughters of jali). It is a relatively new rite, begun when Ul'dah began being settled so close to their traditional hunting grounds which introduced the tribe to many new people and new cultures. The legend goes that after several failed raids on the fledgling city, attempting to drive the intruders off thier territory, the three Councils met and it was decided that the tribe would approach the settlers as an opportunity.<br><br>
The ritual occurs when an adolescent miqo'te has reached the second rank in his or her ton- or in the case of the jali's heir, when her mother has determined it to be time. At this time, the mentor that has been guiding the miqo'te will gift them with a simple weapon, rations, and a piece of clothing embroidered with symbols for protection and knowledge. The youth is encouraged to travel as far and wide as they can in order to bring back some new piece of knowledge relevant to not just their ton but all of the tons, whether it is a new recipe, a new way of sword crafting, or a new song. Once they have hunted new prey across the four corners of Eorzea, they are to return to their village and present their findings on the next Azeyma's Rest, where their position in the tribe will change from adolescent to adult. <br><br>
It is at this time that tias are considered 'old enough' to start challenging nunhs in earnest, though some unruly adolescent males attempt it prior to their Hunt. It is at this time also that females will change the embroidery on their clothing to indicate they are open to being courted by one of the nunhs, though again, younger females occasionally are mated to nunhs prior to their Hunt or Song, particularly during seasons of war.

===Family Structure and Children===

As with other Keepers of the Sun, the Coeurl tribe keeps to the traditions of having a limited number of males who breed, known as 'nunh's and a larger number of non-breeding males known as 'tia's. In the three villages, the number of nunhs is never greater than four and currently sits at three in each village, with approximately ten to fifteen tias per village. <br><br>
The number of tias include adolescent boys and old men out of their prime but still technically of breeding age and so may seem inflated. It does not include the two males on each Council, nor the males of extreme age, as they are no longer considered competition for the nunhs.<br><br>
Each nunh typically is mated to roughly ten females of breeding age, though that number is somewhat fluid depending on the females of the village and the nunh's efforts to maintain the relationships beyond simple breeding. <br><br>
Typically, the females live in communal housing, sharing the hunting, gathering, cooking, and child-rearing duties amongst one another, with the very young and very old tias assisting. Each member of a nunh's household is considered family despite previous blood ties, with the females of a household referring to one another as 'sisters' or 'mothers' and the tias of a village either 'little brother' or 'uncle' depending on youth or age. The council members are always 'grandmother/father' depending on sex. The nunhs are typically not referred to in this familial manner, whether due to incest taboos or due to some honorary status attached to their names it is not clear. <br><br>
Childrearing is a communal process that begins after the cub's eighth day after birth. Prior to that day, the mother and cub are separated from the rest of the tribe and visited by the jali daily so that they may rest and be kept safe from negative influences. On the eighth day, the cub is presented to the tribe and the jali performs a brief ritual so that the elemental spirits will reveal the cub's name. The name is then typically not used in daily life, most Coeurl preferring nicknames or petnames until the cub is old enough to undergo their coming of age ritual.

====Courtship====

The courtship rituals of the Coeurl tribe are varied but are based on exogenous systems- it is taboo to join with a nunh within one's village. Therefore, holidays such as Azeyma's Rest and Azeyma's Rising are extremely important cultural exchanges wherein the females of the villages meet the nunhs and tias of their neighbors. Dancing is a common form of flirting, with the females dancing before the nunhs and the nunhs dancing before the females in turn in displays of strength, skill, beauty, and sexual prowess. As mentioned previously, such displays are common on Azeyma's Rest.<br><br>
When a nunh decides upon a female he would like to court, he will typically give her a small gift- jewelry is common, as are small embroidered or woven swatches of cloth, or for the martially inclined female, beautifully inlaid or filigreed small weapons like knives. Once the gift is received and accepted, the nunh will then stage a ceremonial kidnapping of the female from her ton, typically with the elder member of the communal dwelling's approval. If the kidnapping is done well, the female will move her things the next morning from the ton into the communal housing of the nunh's other mates. If the female is disappointed in the kidnapping, the gift, or the nunh in any way, she will petition one of the tias of her village, who will arrive to return her home to her village. <br><br>
The concepts of marriage and divorce are not followed in the tribe, though they are aware of such things existing. If a female feels neglected or displeased with the nunh she is mated to, she may leave his dwelling and either return to her village or, if another nunh is courting her, she may be ceremonially kidnapped from her current nunh. This typically occurs with younger females that have not yet borne cubs that are mated to older nunhs and often heralds a nunh being challenged.

====Nunhs and Tias====

When a tia decides to challenge a nunh for breeding rights, there are a few ways in which the Coeurl tribe typically settles such challenges. It is the nunh's right to choose the weapon and the tia's right to choose the terms- first outside the circle, to first blood, etc. It is strictly taboo for a challenge to occur during a time of war, though it is not unheard of for a tia to take advantage of the chaos of combat to eliminate a rival and petition for their position. Typical challenges occur during spring and summer, with the most common forms of combat being wrestling matches (claws and teeth being absolutely necessary for the Coeurl version of this sport), swordplay to first blood, even games of skill such as a game called ''Oware'', which is played on a board with several pits and small glass beads.<br><br>
If a tia is defeated, they lose face for a short time (particularly if extremely cocky) but can work themselves back into the good graces of the tribe relatively easily. It is generally seen as extremely poor judgement for multiple tias to challenge a nunh back to back and should the Council suspect that tias have banded together to take out a nunh they may punish the offenders extremely severely- exile being the accepted punishment.<br><br>
Should a nunh lose his place in the village, he will be taken in as a respected tia but the females in his dwelling typically return to their respective villages with their cubs where they will move in with their mothers or go to the tons where they lived prior to joining with the nunh. The new nunh must go about the courtship rituals from the beginning and establish himself anew.

===Warfare===
The Coeurl tribe is typically peaceful amongst themselves. They have a long and bloody history of warfare with the lizard beastmen the amal'jaa to the east as well as minor skirmishes with other miqo'te tribes and the occasional bandit troupe that attempts to encroach upon their very large territory. This includes pirates attempting to use the Bay of Dha'yuz as a safe bearth. As a result of this, the tribe has learned to translate their natural speed, hearing, and sense of smell into powerful guerilla-warfare style combat.<br><br>
Considering one of the tribe's tons is focused entirely on hand-to-hand combat (the warriors) and another is focused on archery and tracking, the Coeurl tribe is skilled in using small groups of combatants to surround an enemy, whereupon they flush them and using silent or near-silent communcation, they force their enemy into running combat whenever possible, picking them off. When the enemy stands to face them or proves to be better armed or armored, the tribe uses their knowledge of the land to set up traps, not above using their own or one of their enemies as bait.<br><br>
Typically, the Coeurl tribe does not have any residents with the ability to call upon magical forces, though the occasional prodigy has been known to occur. Such usually leaves the tribe during their period of Hunting the World. It is not unheard of for there to be one or more members of the tribe with the skill to summon manifestations of the elementals, however, and the jali are generally recognized as skilled healers- whether due to a knowledge of herbs, spices, and other primitive alchemy or due to a skill at conjury is not clear at this time.<br><br>
In battle, the Coeurl tribe will often paint themselves with dark blue symbols and stain the pads and claws of their hands so that should they be unarmed, they still strike with the power of the spirits.

====Ritual Weapons====

The Coeurl tribe practices a unique battle ritual in that they will only use certain materials in weapons used to kill enemies versus weapons used to hunt. The belief is that hunting is a sacred rite, as is battle, and each must adhere to it's own ways. A hunting bow, for instance, may be strung with the gut of one of the miqo'te's first kills, whereas a war bow will be strung with the hair of the first enemy to be successfully faced.

===Death===

The tribe's view on death is one of renewal- death is part of the cycle of life and therefore the spirit of the dead must be encouraged to walk on. Upon the death of a village member, the village will gather to cremate the body. Upon cremation, it is fervently wished that the deceased miqo'te will go on to “live in the Warden's warmth”. The ashes are then taken and used in the casting of several small bells which are hung in the windows and doorways of the deceased's former home or ton, where the desert wind will cause them to ring joyfully and remind those still living of the brightness of the life beyond.

===Impact of Outside Cultures===

The Coeurl tribe are not located terribly far from Ul'dah. As a result of their proximity to this large, bustling city, many of the younger members of the tribe who leave on their Hunt or Song leave and do not return. Whether they are lured away from the tribal society by the larger promise of riches, fame, and adventure or victimized due to their naivete is not clear, however it is certain that each year a few Coeurl adolescents do not return from their rite of passage.<br><br>
Overall, the Coeurl tribe takes on a somewhat conflicting approach to the outside world. “ I against my brother, my brothers and I against my cousins, then my cousins and I against strangers.” is a common tribal saying but the concept of ''diyafa'' or hospitality is deeply ingrained into the Coeurl. Even an enemy that requests hospitality is granted it and to turn one that asks away is a deeply shameful act. The villagers seem to be most content to have the greater world held at arm's distance but will not hesitate to welcome it should it pass their gates.<br><br>
That is not to say that the tribe is a dying one. The tribe has learned many things due to the process of the Song/Hunt and since the Calamity they have taken in orphans and members from the more nomadic tribes in the area that were displaced when the Deepvoid appeared. As a result, the tribe is currently in a state of some flux, with changes being made to previously rigid systems. It is uncertain whether the Coeurl tribe of current day and the Coeurl tribe of the future will resemble one another at all.

==Art and Music==

===Dress===

The Coeurl tribe favors loose, flowing clothing, dyed or woven with a variety of bright colors. After the coming of age ritual, the villagers each have a ''tagelmust'' or combination turban/veil that is embroidered more and more elaborately throughout their life. Typically, the tagelmust is dyed a bright blue using a method that requires the dyer to pound the color into the cloth due to the lack of readily available water. As the miqo'te grows, they add embroidery to the headscarf until it is so thickly embroidered with the details of their deeds that the original blue is almost invisible.

====Weaving====

The members of the weaver's ton of the Coeurl tribe have learned a great deal from the outside world, especially Ul'dah, and have become quite adept at using their natural dexterity to create elaborate designs where each color has it's own meaning. The tribe has become known in certain circles for the brilliance of their colors and the delicacy of it's designs and trade relations have tentatively begun to export the Coeurl weaving into Ul'dah.<br><br>
Some of the colors and themes common in Coeurl textile work are:
{|
|-
| valign=”top” |
* Light blue- spiritual ties, lightning
* Dark blue- strength, power in battle
* Gold/Orange- fertility, joy, glory; associated with Azeyma
| valighn=”top” |
* Purple- femininity, fertility
* Green- healing, growth, purity
* Black- festivals, spiritual energy
|}

====Jewelry====

Jewelry is common for both males and females in the Coeurl tribe, with designs varying but trending towards the abstract and elaborate. The tribe favors the use of symbols to evoke adages, old stories, and folk heros, and these symbols are very popular in jewelry. Crystals, gemstones, and precious metals are all common, with most jewelry being made using either the lost-wax casting method or the filigree method, both of which favor delicate designs and allow for a great deal of intricacy.<br><br>
The village nunhs each carry a ceremonial weapon that is more appropriately considered a piece of jewelry. A sword created out of fulgarite glass- the glass that is made when lightning hits sand. Carefully crafted by the best swordsmiths in the villages, these swords are passed on when the nunhs are challenged and are a symbol of both their strength and the fragility of their position in the tribe.<br><br>
Females tend to favor small bells around wrists and ankles when in the village.<br><br>
At this time, the miners of Ul'dah have not realized that the sands around the Coeurl villages are rich in naturally occuring gold and precious stones.

===Tattoos===

Much like the jewelry, the tattoos of the Coeurl tribe trend towards abstract symbols with deeper meanings. Most members of the tribe are tattooed in one form or another, many receiving their tattoos at their coming of age ceremony and adding to them after their Hunt/Song. It is common in the tribe to receive tattoos on the face, across the cheeks and nose, as well as on the upper arms and across the shoulders.

===Music===

====Common Instruments====
The Coeurl tribe favors percussion instruments, several different kinds of drums being common among the villages. Each village has a very large drum meant to be used as a message relay system, all the way down to very small bongo-style drum sets held between the knees. Each of the three villages have a sacred drum that the jali uses when doing ritual songs, made of cactuar with coeurl hide. These drums are believed to beat with the sacred heart of the coeurl itself and have been carefully tended by the jali over many generations.<br><br>
Besides the drums, instruments like bells and bone flutes are common, with many of the tribe adorning wrists, ankles, ears, and tails with small tinkling accessories to create a musical counterpoint to the heavy percussion common in their dances.<br><br>
The Coeurl tribe also use their voices in various ululations and calls, having a much wider range of vocalizations than the Hyur, Roegadyn, or Lalafell.

====Dance====

Dance is an extremely important part of Coeurl culture. It is part of their courtship rituals, part of their coming of age rituals, part of their religious rites, and a part of their spiritual life. Most Coeurl dances involve the entire body from the tips of their ears to the ends of their toes and are driven by strong percussion created by drums and footpads hitting the earth.<br><br>
In a species where communication can be subtly changed by ear and tail position, the ears and tails of the Coeurl are a big part of many of their story-dances, used to evoke emotions while the face is hidden by a mask or the hands.

Coeurl ceremonial garb is worn during their dances and there are a multitude of different dances for males, females, and both.

[[Category:Troupe]]

Falling Stars Tribe

2019-07-11T19:41:46Z

Anstarra:

{{speculation}}

Please note: This page is a Work In Progress based off the template used by the Coeurl Tribe

The '''Falling Stars Tribe''', an off-shoot of the [[:Category: Miqo'te Seeker of the Sun|Seekers of the Sun]] sub-race of [[Miqo'te]], are a historically insular tribe located in the tundra to the northeast of [[Coerthas]], in the lee of the mountains of [[Xelphatol]]. Until a few Turns ago, very few knew of the tribe's existence, but in recent times due to the expansionist ambitions of their now-deceased Nunh, they came into conflict with the city-states of [[Eorzea]]. Now, a peace has been established, and the once-xenophobic Falling Stars have taken an exploratory interest in the world beyond their borders.

{| style= "width: 200px; height: 200px; float: right;" border="1"
| '''Race''' : [[Miqo'te]]
| '''Clan''' : Seekers of the Sun
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Population''' : ~400
| '''Number of Septs''' : 3
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Religion''' : [[Azeyma, the Warden]]; the Eight; the Fallen Nunh
| '''Naming Conventions''' : X' (pronounced ''she'')
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Location''' : North of the Black Shroud and east of Coerthas, in the tundra around the mountains of Xelphatol.
|}

==History==

WIP AFTER THIS POINT

As with the rest of their species, the Lynx tribe arrived in [[Eorzea]] in the Fifth Umbral Era, when ice bridges were created across continents. The ancestors of the current tribe followed not only their traditional prey but also the visions of their tribal leaders and the beast that they revered, the lynx. During the end of the Fifth Umbral Era, when the ice began to melt, the tribe migrated to the north and eastern portion of Eorzea, preferring the more northern climes associated with their totem. Much of the tribe remained essentially nomadic, though each claimed their territories in various parts of the more northern regions of [[Aldenard]]. <br>

===A sept sequestered===
During the War of the Magi, in the waning years of the Fifth Astral Era, a cabal of Nymian scholars broke away from the city-state. It is unknown whether they were exiled for unsound practices, or needed secrecy and privacy to complete their work; what is known is that they constructed a subterranean bunker and research station dedicated to discovering the secrets of immortality. Seeing their work as the only chance to survive the War of the Magi, these scholars made use of the resources they could find, in the form of an isolated sept of Lynx tribe miqo'te.<br>
The lore of the Falling Stars states that the experiments performed upon their ancestors were done against their will. The tonberry Ibes Habes, survivor of the city-state proper, insists that his fellows would never have stooped to such barbarity (though it is worth noting that Habes to this day seems to consider miqo'te to be little more than beasts, so the impartiality of his recollection is subject to some doubt). Regardless of how it began, the experiments were long-running and kept fiercely isolated from contamination, necessitating profound adjustments to the aetherial makeup of the subjects over a series of generations.<br>

WIP AFTER THIS POINT
===History of the Coeurl Tribe with the Amal'jaa===
Due to their proximity to the grasslands of Pagi'than, the native home of the lizard-like beastmen known as the Amal'jaa, the Coeurl tribe has had a history of open warfare with the beastman. Each side has claimed that their lands were invaded first, though the true first aggressor has been lost in a long history of small raids, larger battles, cease-fires, and near-massacres. At the current time, the Coeurl tribe has not been observed crossing the border into Pagi'than or Amal'jaa lands, however the beastmen have been increasing their raids into Thanalan- even so far as the city of [[Ul'dah]]- so it is likely only a matter of time before the current cold war escalates once more.

==Culture==

A note regarding the Coeurl culture at large and methods of communication in specific. Due to their proximity and the harshness of the environment they have carved their villages out of, the Coeurl have developed highly subtle forms of silent and near-silent communication using facial expressions, ear placement, and tail and hand motions. They use this form of communication amongst each other and to recognize one another while out in the world at large. As this is their default form of communication, when Coeurl tribe members are in society at large they are often regarded as somewhat twitchy.

===Politics===
Each of the three villages in the Coeurl tribe follows a system of government whereby five of the eldest members of the village- three females past child-bearing age and two males past hunting age- come together to discuss the good of the village. It is this Council that determines whether or not to declare proper war, when to look to new hunting grounds, and mediates disputes involving other villages, disputes between the various traditional ''ton'' (vocation-based fraternities and sororities), and disputes between nunhs. It is also this Council that determines which members of the tribe will be considered as 'Ankobia' and 'Master Hunter' (the titles are the same regardless of sex) and are qualified to lead the younger warriors and hunters, respectively, through their training.

===The Jali===
The position of bardpriest, known as ''jali'' is an important one in the villages of the Coeurl tribe both politically and spiritually. She plays the role of historian, mediator in minor arguments, spiritual bridge between the tribe and the elementals and the goddess, song-singer, dance teacher, and psychopomp along the rites of passage. <br><br>
The jali position is always held by a female and is passed only to female progeny as it requires too much movement between villages and into the outer world to be held by a tia or a nunh, who must be present in the village in order to protect it. <br><br>
Each village has it's own jali, however the jali of each village is expected to travel into the other villages as well as into the outer world frequently in order to maintain positive relations with the spirits and to learn the stories that are their stock in trade. Whenever one village's jali is gone, the other two jalis and their daughters are expected to pick up the duties. The only time all three jalis are required to be in the villages are during the two great festivals.<br><br>
The jali of the three villages are related. When the tribe crossed the ice in the 5th Umbral Era, one female had the ability that is now called 'The Echo'. She had three daughters. Over time, those three daughters have either raised or adopted daughters with that same ability so that they can trace their lineage in an unbroken line back to the first. The Echo has manifested in various different ways, leading to the jali's various duties. The current jali of the three villages consider one another sisters and have raised their daughters to do the same.

===Religion===
As with most of their sub-race, the Coeurl tribe worships the sun goddess [[Azeyma, the Warden]]. In her honor they consider themselves the ''warriors of the clouds'' and celebrate two large festivals annually. The tribe also reveres multiple manifestations of elemental spirits- fire and water being two elements of greater importance due to the villages' desert lifestyle. The reverence for the coeurl has made that figure a creature of folk tales, morality stories, as well as an intercessor between the tribe and Azeyma.

====Azeyma's Rest====
Azeyma's Rest is the summer solstice, when the Coeurl tribe believes that Azeyma shines her brightest before beginning to hide her radiant face behind her fan. It is a day to celebrate accomplishments of the year, to show one's strength, fertility, joy, and pride to the shining face of the Warden. It is often celebrated with elaborate dances, songs testifying the accomplishments of the tribe as a whole as well as individual members, and many times it is this day when young tias will attempt to challenge the nunhs of their village.<br><br>
On the day of Azeyma's Rest, the Coeurl tribe's largest number of courtship rituals are acted out. While a small number of rituals occur on other days of the year, it is considered good luck to be courted on the longest day of the year, as it is believed that Azeyma will bless the pairing with fertility and will allow the new female to join her sisters with that nunh in good harmony.<br><br>
Previously, there was a ritual enacted on Azeyma's Rest wherein a tia was chosen by the Council, sent into the wilds for 24 hours with nothing to eat or drink and no weapons. Should he return, he would be granted nunh status for that shortest night of the year and that night only and he should have his choice of any of the women of the tribe who would accept him, as they believed him to be blessed by Azeyma herself. Should a child be born of that symbolic union, they were almost universally heterochromic, a symbol of great importance to the Coeurl tribe and, indeed, the Seekers of the Sun as a whole. This ritual has largely fallen out of favor (at least publically) due to outside pressures from visitors to the tribe, who consider the practice overly superstitious. <br><br>
Azeyma's Rest is considered a holiday primarily celebrating the masculine elements of the tribe, with music, dancing, and story-telling following this theme. It is occasionally referred to as the 'male's new year'.

====Azeyma's Rising====
Azeyma's Rising falls on the winter solstice, near the end of the rainy season, when the Coeurl tribe believes that the Warden is beginning to rise from her long period of resting and is finally prepared to draw back her fan. As compared to the more boisterous celebrations of Azeyma's Rest, Azyema's Rising is a deeply spiritual holiday and is focused on preparing of one's self and one's village to move into the brightness of the Warden's light once more- and to be worthy of it. A holiday focusing on relationships between the spirits and the 'real' world, each village's cubs perform a ritual dance for which they have practiced for months wherein they form a chain that resembled a great fork of lightning striking through the three villages, moving from one all the way across the other two, until each dwelling and gathering place has been touched by their footpads- which have been stained a pale blue by grinding a flower that grows only in the rainy season.<br><br>
This same pale blue stain will be re-applied to the gates that stand at the entrance to each village, a symbolic rekindling of the bond between the Coeurl people and the lightning-bearing creature they revere.<br><br>
When the sun has set, many lanterns are lit and great feasts are prepared, and the village's female shaman and bard, known as a ''jali'', will step forward and begin to tell one of the stories of how Azeyma came by her fan. In the most popular version, the Warden's radiance was so dazzling the Miqo'te people became lost and wandered in the desert. They would have died had it not been for a great coeurl queen, who saw the brilliant goddess and took pity on the plight of the Miqo'te people, slipping between them and the shining sun's light. The coeurl's fur was burned black wherever the lady's eyes fell, like sunspots left behind one's closed eyes, but the lady was inspired, and fashioned herself a fan to shield her chosen people.<br><br>
Once the story is told, the jali will partake of a drug to send herself into a light trance as the village sings and dances tributes to the coeurl and Azeyma. While in said trance, the jali will attempt to seek the elemental spirits of fire, water, and (should she be lucky) the coeurl itself to ask for a year of abundant game, healthy childbearing, and safe passage for the cubs passing into adulthood.<br><br>
Given the deeply spiritual nature of this holiday as well as it's focus on beginnings, Azeyma's Rising is themed around the feminine and is considered the 'female's new year'.

===Rites of Passage===

When a miqo'te cub of the Coeurl tribe approaches their twelfth name-day, they are considered to be coming of age.<br><br>
At this time, the youth is taken aside by the Council and the jali of their village and is taught the history of their people and the ritual songs and dances of passage. They are also placed in seclusion until they complete the ritual items that will show the villages their change in status. Males and females both embroider their vests and headscarves and both sexes must complete the creation of basic weaponry- often a bow and arrows or a spear- for the final portion of the ritual. <br><br>
Once the weaponry is fashioned and the dances and songs have been learned to the Council and bardpriest's satisfaction, the youth is sent out into the desert of Thanalan for one full day and one full night. They are not given food nor water, having to find these things on their own. Many Coeurl tribesmembers relate that they are given visions during this time, shown the way to prey or to water sources by elemental spirits, by the coeurl, or by following the shadow of Azeyma's fan.<br><br>
When the youth returns to the village at dawn, they are gifted with their embroidered clothing, feasted, and welcomed into the adolescent world. A small celebration is thrown in their village and the youth must sing and dance what they have learned both from the jali and on their spiritual and survival journey into the wilds of the desert. When the celebration is over, the youth is free to choose a ton, to leave the communal housing of their mothers, and to learn a trade. It is at this time that tattooing is common, with many Coeurl adolescents choosing to get tattoos on their faces or elsewhere detailing their journey into the wild.

====The 'Ton'====

The ton are the communities within the villages of adolescent male and female miqo'te that are learning a trade. All of the ton are open to both sexes, however living arrangements are divided into male and female communal housing with an elder member of the ton so as to discourage courting or unsupervised pairings. The ton are used much like the outer world uses their various schools- there is a warrior's ton where the adolescents will learn the arts of war, tactics, how to weild various weapons, and how to work in a team, a hunter's ton that focuses on archery and tracking, a cooking ton, a weaver's ton, et cetera. <br><br>
The only profession that does not have a ton is that of the jali. This profession is passed down strictly through bloodlines due to the extensive amount of training required to learn the songs, dances, and rituals. The adolescent progeny of the jali in the villages are encouraged to join other tons, however their studies as the future bardpriest in the village take precedence. <br><br>
The warrior's ton is an excellent example of how tons work in Coeurl society. An adolescent joins at the lowest level, the ''Sword Bearer'' or ''Afena''. At this level, the adolescent warrior is given a mock wooden weapon and is typically treated as a runner, expected to learn by being silent and watching their elders. They perform many of the chores of the communal housing in order to learn discipline. They typically spar only with other Afena. In war, the Afena are camp runners, thus the title sword-bearer. The next level is ''Apprentice'' or ''Adum''. Upon graduating to apprentice level, the warrior has been taken under the wing of a older student and is given a blunted metal weapon and begins being taught tactics, the way of fighting that the Coeurl tribe favors. Adum are allowed to request sparring sessions with members of their own rank as well as the rank above them. They still perform chores but usually only do those related to attending to their mentors. In war, the Adum act as squires, sticking close to their mentors and providing for any and every need. The next rank in the ton is ''Warrior'' or ''Asafo''- these are the bulk of the fighting force of the village and are adults in the tribe that have undergone their adulthood rite of passage and returned to become mentors in the ton. Very rarely a nunh will be a part of this rank, however it is mostly made up of tias and females not currently bearing cubs. The final rank is the head of the warrior ton as well as the de facto general in times of war, the ''Ankobia''. This rank is chosen by the Council from the best warriors in the ton and is typically held until resignation or death in battle.<br><br>
The non-combat focused tons, such as the weaver's ton or the cooking ton, have slightly different structures and graduation standards, however they generally hold to the same idea as the more martial tons. The biggest difference is that the heads of these tons are not appointed by the Council but are chosen by the ton in an internal vote held among the adult members of the group.

====Singing/Hunting the World====

The final ritual most Coeurl tribespeople undergo is that of Hunting the World (called Singing the World for the daughters of jali). It is a relatively new rite, begun when Ul'dah began being settled so close to their traditional hunting grounds which introduced the tribe to many new people and new cultures. The legend goes that after several failed raids on the fledgling city, attempting to drive the intruders off thier territory, the three Councils met and it was decided that the tribe would approach the settlers as an opportunity.<br><br>
The ritual occurs when an adolescent miqo'te has reached the second rank in his or her ton- or in the case of the jali's heir, when her mother has determined it to be time. At this time, the mentor that has been guiding the miqo'te will gift them with a simple weapon, rations, and a piece of clothing embroidered with symbols for protection and knowledge. The youth is encouraged to travel as far and wide as they can in order to bring back some new piece of knowledge relevant to not just their ton but all of the tons, whether it is a new recipe, a new way of sword crafting, or a new song. Once they have hunted new prey across the four corners of Eorzea, they are to return to their village and present their findings on the next Azeyma's Rest, where their position in the tribe will change from adolescent to adult. <br><br>
It is at this time that tias are considered 'old enough' to start challenging nunhs in earnest, though some unruly adolescent males attempt it prior to their Hunt. It is at this time also that females will change the embroidery on their clothing to indicate they are open to being courted by one of the nunhs, though again, younger females occasionally are mated to nunhs prior to their Hunt or Song, particularly during seasons of war.

===Family Structure and Children===

As with other Keepers of the Sun, the Coeurl tribe keeps to the traditions of having a limited number of males who breed, known as 'nunh's and a larger number of non-breeding males known as 'tia's. In the three villages, the number of nunhs is never greater than four and currently sits at three in each village, with approximately ten to fifteen tias per village. <br><br>
The number of tias include adolescent boys and old men out of their prime but still technically of breeding age and so may seem inflated. It does not include the two males on each Council, nor the males of extreme age, as they are no longer considered competition for the nunhs.<br><br>
Each nunh typically is mated to roughly ten females of breeding age, though that number is somewhat fluid depending on the females of the village and the nunh's efforts to maintain the relationships beyond simple breeding. <br><br>
Typically, the females live in communal housing, sharing the hunting, gathering, cooking, and child-rearing duties amongst one another, with the very young and very old tias assisting. Each member of a nunh's household is considered family despite previous blood ties, with the females of a household referring to one another as 'sisters' or 'mothers' and the tias of a village either 'little brother' or 'uncle' depending on youth or age. The council members are always 'grandmother/father' depending on sex. The nunhs are typically not referred to in this familial manner, whether due to incest taboos or due to some honorary status attached to their names it is not clear. <br><br>
Childrearing is a communal process that begins after the cub's eighth day after birth. Prior to that day, the mother and cub are separated from the rest of the tribe and visited by the jali daily so that they may rest and be kept safe from negative influences. On the eighth day, the cub is presented to the tribe and the jali performs a brief ritual so that the elemental spirits will reveal the cub's name. The name is then typically not used in daily life, most Coeurl preferring nicknames or petnames until the cub is old enough to undergo their coming of age ritual.

====Courtship====

The courtship rituals of the Coeurl tribe are varied but are based on exogenous systems- it is taboo to join with a nunh within one's village. Therefore, holidays such as Azeyma's Rest and Azeyma's Rising are extremely important cultural exchanges wherein the females of the villages meet the nunhs and tias of their neighbors. Dancing is a common form of flirting, with the females dancing before the nunhs and the nunhs dancing before the females in turn in displays of strength, skill, beauty, and sexual prowess. As mentioned previously, such displays are common on Azeyma's Rest.<br><br>
When a nunh decides upon a female he would like to court, he will typically give her a small gift- jewelry is common, as are small embroidered or woven swatches of cloth, or for the martially inclined female, beautifully inlaid or filigreed small weapons like knives. Once the gift is received and accepted, the nunh will then stage a ceremonial kidnapping of the female from her ton, typically with the elder member of the communal dwelling's approval. If the kidnapping is done well, the female will move her things the next morning from the ton into the communal housing of the nunh's other mates. If the female is disappointed in the kidnapping, the gift, or the nunh in any way, she will petition one of the tias of her village, who will arrive to return her home to her village. <br><br>
The concepts of marriage and divorce are not followed in the tribe, though they are aware of such things existing. If a female feels neglected or displeased with the nunh she is mated to, she may leave his dwelling and either return to her village or, if another nunh is courting her, she may be ceremonially kidnapped from her current nunh. This typically occurs with younger females that have not yet borne cubs that are mated to older nunhs and often heralds a nunh being challenged.

====Nunhs and Tias====

When a tia decides to challenge a nunh for breeding rights, there are a few ways in which the Coeurl tribe typically settles such challenges. It is the nunh's right to choose the weapon and the tia's right to choose the terms- first outside the circle, to first blood, etc. It is strictly taboo for a challenge to occur during a time of war, though it is not unheard of for a tia to take advantage of the chaos of combat to eliminate a rival and petition for their position. Typical challenges occur during spring and summer, with the most common forms of combat being wrestling matches (claws and teeth being absolutely necessary for the Coeurl version of this sport), swordplay to first blood, even games of skill such as a game called ''Oware'', which is played on a board with several pits and small glass beads.<br><br>
If a tia is defeated, they lose face for a short time (particularly if extremely cocky) but can work themselves back into the good graces of the tribe relatively easily. It is generally seen as extremely poor judgement for multiple tias to challenge a nunh back to back and should the Council suspect that tias have banded together to take out a nunh they may punish the offenders extremely severely- exile being the accepted punishment.<br><br>
Should a nunh lose his place in the village, he will be taken in as a respected tia but the females in his dwelling typically return to their respective villages with their cubs where they will move in with their mothers or go to the tons where they lived prior to joining with the nunh. The new nunh must go about the courtship rituals from the beginning and establish himself anew.

===Warfare===
The Coeurl tribe is typically peaceful amongst themselves. They have a long and bloody history of warfare with the lizard beastmen the amal'jaa to the east as well as minor skirmishes with other miqo'te tribes and the occasional bandit troupe that attempts to encroach upon their very large territory. This includes pirates attempting to use the Bay of Dha'yuz as a safe bearth. As a result of this, the tribe has learned to translate their natural speed, hearing, and sense of smell into powerful guerilla-warfare style combat.<br><br>
Considering one of the tribe's tons is focused entirely on hand-to-hand combat (the warriors) and another is focused on archery and tracking, the Coeurl tribe is skilled in using small groups of combatants to surround an enemy, whereupon they flush them and using silent or near-silent communcation, they force their enemy into running combat whenever possible, picking them off. When the enemy stands to face them or proves to be better armed or armored, the tribe uses their knowledge of the land to set up traps, not above using their own or one of their enemies as bait.<br><br>
Typically, the Coeurl tribe does not have any residents with the ability to call upon magical forces, though the occasional prodigy has been known to occur. Such usually leaves the tribe during their period of Hunting the World. It is not unheard of for there to be one or more members of the tribe with the skill to summon manifestations of the elementals, however, and the jali are generally recognized as skilled healers- whether due to a knowledge of herbs, spices, and other primitive alchemy or due to a skill at conjury is not clear at this time.<br><br>
In battle, the Coeurl tribe will often paint themselves with dark blue symbols and stain the pads and claws of their hands so that should they be unarmed, they still strike with the power of the spirits.

====Ritual Weapons====

The Coeurl tribe practices a unique battle ritual in that they will only use certain materials in weapons used to kill enemies versus weapons used to hunt. The belief is that hunting is a sacred rite, as is battle, and each must adhere to it's own ways. A hunting bow, for instance, may be strung with the gut of one of the miqo'te's first kills, whereas a war bow will be strung with the hair of the first enemy to be successfully faced.

===Death===

The tribe's view on death is one of renewal- death is part of the cycle of life and therefore the spirit of the dead must be encouraged to walk on. Upon the death of a village member, the village will gather to cremate the body. Upon cremation, it is fervently wished that the deceased miqo'te will go on to “live in the Warden's warmth”. The ashes are then taken and used in the casting of several small bells which are hung in the windows and doorways of the deceased's former home or ton, where the desert wind will cause them to ring joyfully and remind those still living of the brightness of the life beyond.

===Impact of Outside Cultures===

The Coeurl tribe are not located terribly far from Ul'dah. As a result of their proximity to this large, bustling city, many of the younger members of the tribe who leave on their Hunt or Song leave and do not return. Whether they are lured away from the tribal society by the larger promise of riches, fame, and adventure or victimized due to their naivete is not clear, however it is certain that each year a few Coeurl adolescents do not return from their rite of passage.<br><br>
Overall, the Coeurl tribe takes on a somewhat conflicting approach to the outside world. “ I against my brother, my brothers and I against my cousins, then my cousins and I against strangers.” is a common tribal saying but the concept of ''diyafa'' or hospitality is deeply ingrained into the Coeurl. Even an enemy that requests hospitality is granted it and to turn one that asks away is a deeply shameful act. The villagers seem to be most content to have the greater world held at arm's distance but will not hesitate to welcome it should it pass their gates.<br><br>
That is not to say that the tribe is a dying one. The tribe has learned many things due to the process of the Song/Hunt and since the Calamity they have taken in orphans and members from the more nomadic tribes in the area that were displaced when the Deepvoid appeared. As a result, the tribe is currently in a state of some flux, with changes being made to previously rigid systems. It is uncertain whether the Coeurl tribe of current day and the Coeurl tribe of the future will resemble one another at all.

==Art and Music==

===Dress===

The Coeurl tribe favors loose, flowing clothing, dyed or woven with a variety of bright colors. After the coming of age ritual, the villagers each have a ''tagelmust'' or combination turban/veil that is embroidered more and more elaborately throughout their life. Typically, the tagelmust is dyed a bright blue using a method that requires the dyer to pound the color into the cloth due to the lack of readily available water. As the miqo'te grows, they add embroidery to the headscarf until it is so thickly embroidered with the details of their deeds that the original blue is almost invisible.

====Weaving====

The members of the weaver's ton of the Coeurl tribe have learned a great deal from the outside world, especially Ul'dah, and have become quite adept at using their natural dexterity to create elaborate designs where each color has it's own meaning. The tribe has become known in certain circles for the brilliance of their colors and the delicacy of it's designs and trade relations have tentatively begun to export the Coeurl weaving into Ul'dah.<br><br>
Some of the colors and themes common in Coeurl textile work are:
{|
|-
| valign=”top” |
* Light blue- spiritual ties, lightning
* Dark blue- strength, power in battle
* Gold/Orange- fertility, joy, glory; associated with Azeyma
| valighn=”top” |
* Purple- femininity, fertility
* Green- healing, growth, purity
* Black- festivals, spiritual energy
|}

====Jewelry====

Jewelry is common for both males and females in the Coeurl tribe, with designs varying but trending towards the abstract and elaborate. The tribe favors the use of symbols to evoke adages, old stories, and folk heros, and these symbols are very popular in jewelry. Crystals, gemstones, and precious metals are all common, with most jewelry being made using either the lost-wax casting method or the filigree method, both of which favor delicate designs and allow for a great deal of intricacy.<br><br>
The village nunhs each carry a ceremonial weapon that is more appropriately considered a piece of jewelry. A sword created out of fulgarite glass- the glass that is made when lightning hits sand. Carefully crafted by the best swordsmiths in the villages, these swords are passed on when the nunhs are challenged and are a symbol of both their strength and the fragility of their position in the tribe.<br><br>
Females tend to favor small bells around wrists and ankles when in the village.<br><br>
At this time, the miners of Ul'dah have not realized that the sands around the Coeurl villages are rich in naturally occuring gold and precious stones.

===Tattoos===

Much like the jewelry, the tattoos of the Coeurl tribe trend towards abstract symbols with deeper meanings. Most members of the tribe are tattooed in one form or another, many receiving their tattoos at their coming of age ceremony and adding to them after their Hunt/Song. It is common in the tribe to receive tattoos on the face, across the cheeks and nose, as well as on the upper arms and across the shoulders.

===Music===

====Common Instruments====
The Coeurl tribe favors percussion instruments, several different kinds of drums being common among the villages. Each village has a very large drum meant to be used as a message relay system, all the way down to very small bongo-style drum sets held between the knees. Each of the three villages have a sacred drum that the jali uses when doing ritual songs, made of cactuar with coeurl hide. These drums are believed to beat with the sacred heart of the coeurl itself and have been carefully tended by the jali over many generations.<br><br>
Besides the drums, instruments like bells and bone flutes are common, with many of the tribe adorning wrists, ankles, ears, and tails with small tinkling accessories to create a musical counterpoint to the heavy percussion common in their dances.<br><br>
The Coeurl tribe also use their voices in various ululations and calls, having a much wider range of vocalizations than the Hyur, Roegadyn, or Lalafell.

====Dance====

Dance is an extremely important part of Coeurl culture. It is part of their courtship rituals, part of their coming of age rituals, part of their religious rites, and a part of their spiritual life. Most Coeurl dances involve the entire body from the tips of their ears to the ends of their toes and are driven by strong percussion created by drums and footpads hitting the earth.<br><br>
In a species where communication can be subtly changed by ear and tail position, the ears and tails of the Coeurl are a big part of many of their story-dances, used to evoke emotions while the face is hidden by a mask or the hands.

Coeurl ceremonial garb is worn during their dances and there are a multitude of different dances for males, females, and both.

[[Category:Troupe]]

Falling Stars Tribe

2019-07-11T16:13:43Z

Anstarra:

{{speculation}}

Please note: This page is a Work In Progress based off the template used by the Coeurl Tribe

The '''Falling Stars Tribe''', an off-shoot of the [[:Category: Miqo'te Seeker of the Sun|Seekers of the Sun]] sub-race of [[Miqo'te]], are a historically insular tribe located in the tundra to the northeast of [[Coerthas]], in the lee of the mountains of [[Xelphatol]]. Until a few Turns ago, very few knew of the tribe's existence, but in recent times due to the expansionist ambitions of their now-deceased Nunh, they came into conflict with the city-states of [[Eorzea]]. Now, a peace has been established, and the once-xenophobic Falling Stars have taken an exploratory interest in the world beyond their borders.

{| style= "width: 200px; height: 200px; float: right;" border="1"
| '''Race''' : [[Miqo'te]]
| '''Clan''' : Seekers of the Sun
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Population''' : ~400
| '''Number of Septs''' : 3
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Religion''' : [[Azeyma, the Warden]]; the Eight; the Fallen Nunh
| '''Naming Conventions''' : X' (pronounced ''she'')
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Location''' : North of the Black Shroud and east of Coerthas, in the tundra around the mountains of Xelphatol.
|}

==History==

WIP AFTER THIS POINT

As with the rest of their species, the Coeurl tribe arrived in [[Eorzea]] in the Fifth Umbral Era, when ice bridges were created across continents. The ancestors of the current tribe followed not only their traditional prey but also the visions of their tribal leaders and the beast that they revered, the coeurl. During the end of the Fifth Umbral Era, when the ice began to melt, the tribe migrated to the eastern portion of Eorzea, preferring the desert climate much like their tribal guide. Much of the tribe remained essentially nomadic, though each claimed their territories in various parts of the desert around what is now the city of [[Ul'dah]]. <br>
In the last several hundred years, three villages have broken away from the majority of the still-hostile tribe and settled down. They have created a tribal culture unique to themselves, abandoning the more common nomadic lifestyle in favor of cultivation and mutual non-aggression.<br>

===History of the Coeurl Tribe with the Amal'jaa===
Due to their proximity to the grasslands of Pagi'than, the native home of the lizard-like beastmen known as the Amal'jaa, the Coeurl tribe has had a history of open warfare with the beastman. Each side has claimed that their lands were invaded first, though the true first aggressor has been lost in a long history of small raids, larger battles, cease-fires, and near-massacres. At the current time, the Coeurl tribe has not been observed crossing the border into Pagi'than or Amal'jaa lands, however the beastmen have been increasing their raids into Thanalan- even so far as the city of [[Ul'dah]]- so it is likely only a matter of time before the current cold war escalates once more.

==Culture==

A note regarding the Coeurl culture at large and methods of communication in specific. Due to their proximity and the harshness of the environment they have carved their villages out of, the Coeurl have developed highly subtle forms of silent and near-silent communication using facial expressions, ear placement, and tail and hand motions. They use this form of communication amongst each other and to recognize one another while out in the world at large. As this is their default form of communication, when Coeurl tribe members are in society at large they are often regarded as somewhat twitchy.

===Politics===
Each of the three villages in the Coeurl tribe follows a system of government whereby five of the eldest members of the village- three females past child-bearing age and two males past hunting age- come together to discuss the good of the village. It is this Council that determines whether or not to declare proper war, when to look to new hunting grounds, and mediates disputes involving other villages, disputes between the various traditional ''ton'' (vocation-based fraternities and sororities), and disputes between nunhs. It is also this Council that determines which members of the tribe will be considered as 'Ankobia' and 'Master Hunter' (the titles are the same regardless of sex) and are qualified to lead the younger warriors and hunters, respectively, through their training.

===The Jali===
The position of bardpriest, known as ''jali'' is an important one in the villages of the Coeurl tribe both politically and spiritually. She plays the role of historian, mediator in minor arguments, spiritual bridge between the tribe and the elementals and the goddess, song-singer, dance teacher, and psychopomp along the rites of passage. <br><br>
The jali position is always held by a female and is passed only to female progeny as it requires too much movement between villages and into the outer world to be held by a tia or a nunh, who must be present in the village in order to protect it. <br><br>
Each village has it's own jali, however the jali of each village is expected to travel into the other villages as well as into the outer world frequently in order to maintain positive relations with the spirits and to learn the stories that are their stock in trade. Whenever one village's jali is gone, the other two jalis and their daughters are expected to pick up the duties. The only time all three jalis are required to be in the villages are during the two great festivals.<br><br>
The jali of the three villages are related. When the tribe crossed the ice in the 5th Umbral Era, one female had the ability that is now called 'The Echo'. She had three daughters. Over time, those three daughters have either raised or adopted daughters with that same ability so that they can trace their lineage in an unbroken line back to the first. The Echo has manifested in various different ways, leading to the jali's various duties. The current jali of the three villages consider one another sisters and have raised their daughters to do the same.

===Religion===
As with most of their sub-race, the Coeurl tribe worships the sun goddess [[Azeyma, the Warden]]. In her honor they consider themselves the ''warriors of the clouds'' and celebrate two large festivals annually. The tribe also reveres multiple manifestations of elemental spirits- fire and water being two elements of greater importance due to the villages' desert lifestyle. The reverence for the coeurl has made that figure a creature of folk tales, morality stories, as well as an intercessor between the tribe and Azeyma.

====Azeyma's Rest====
Azeyma's Rest is the summer solstice, when the Coeurl tribe believes that Azeyma shines her brightest before beginning to hide her radiant face behind her fan. It is a day to celebrate accomplishments of the year, to show one's strength, fertility, joy, and pride to the shining face of the Warden. It is often celebrated with elaborate dances, songs testifying the accomplishments of the tribe as a whole as well as individual members, and many times it is this day when young tias will attempt to challenge the nunhs of their village.<br><br>
On the day of Azeyma's Rest, the Coeurl tribe's largest number of courtship rituals are acted out. While a small number of rituals occur on other days of the year, it is considered good luck to be courted on the longest day of the year, as it is believed that Azeyma will bless the pairing with fertility and will allow the new female to join her sisters with that nunh in good harmony.<br><br>
Previously, there was a ritual enacted on Azeyma's Rest wherein a tia was chosen by the Council, sent into the wilds for 24 hours with nothing to eat or drink and no weapons. Should he return, he would be granted nunh status for that shortest night of the year and that night only and he should have his choice of any of the women of the tribe who would accept him, as they believed him to be blessed by Azeyma herself. Should a child be born of that symbolic union, they were almost universally heterochromic, a symbol of great importance to the Coeurl tribe and, indeed, the Seekers of the Sun as a whole. This ritual has largely fallen out of favor (at least publically) due to outside pressures from visitors to the tribe, who consider the practice overly superstitious. <br><br>
Azeyma's Rest is considered a holiday primarily celebrating the masculine elements of the tribe, with music, dancing, and story-telling following this theme. It is occasionally referred to as the 'male's new year'.

====Azeyma's Rising====
Azeyma's Rising falls on the winter solstice, near the end of the rainy season, when the Coeurl tribe believes that the Warden is beginning to rise from her long period of resting and is finally prepared to draw back her fan. As compared to the more boisterous celebrations of Azeyma's Rest, Azyema's Rising is a deeply spiritual holiday and is focused on preparing of one's self and one's village to move into the brightness of the Warden's light once more- and to be worthy of it. A holiday focusing on relationships between the spirits and the 'real' world, each village's cubs perform a ritual dance for which they have practiced for months wherein they form a chain that resembled a great fork of lightning striking through the three villages, moving from one all the way across the other two, until each dwelling and gathering place has been touched by their footpads- which have been stained a pale blue by grinding a flower that grows only in the rainy season.<br><br>
This same pale blue stain will be re-applied to the gates that stand at the entrance to each village, a symbolic rekindling of the bond between the Coeurl people and the lightning-bearing creature they revere.<br><br>
When the sun has set, many lanterns are lit and great feasts are prepared, and the village's female shaman and bard, known as a ''jali'', will step forward and begin to tell one of the stories of how Azeyma came by her fan. In the most popular version, the Warden's radiance was so dazzling the Miqo'te people became lost and wandered in the desert. They would have died had it not been for a great coeurl queen, who saw the brilliant goddess and took pity on the plight of the Miqo'te people, slipping between them and the shining sun's light. The coeurl's fur was burned black wherever the lady's eyes fell, like sunspots left behind one's closed eyes, but the lady was inspired, and fashioned herself a fan to shield her chosen people.<br><br>
Once the story is told, the jali will partake of a drug to send herself into a light trance as the village sings and dances tributes to the coeurl and Azeyma. While in said trance, the jali will attempt to seek the elemental spirits of fire, water, and (should she be lucky) the coeurl itself to ask for a year of abundant game, healthy childbearing, and safe passage for the cubs passing into adulthood.<br><br>
Given the deeply spiritual nature of this holiday as well as it's focus on beginnings, Azeyma's Rising is themed around the feminine and is considered the 'female's new year'.

===Rites of Passage===

When a miqo'te cub of the Coeurl tribe approaches their twelfth name-day, they are considered to be coming of age.<br><br>
At this time, the youth is taken aside by the Council and the jali of their village and is taught the history of their people and the ritual songs and dances of passage. They are also placed in seclusion until they complete the ritual items that will show the villages their change in status. Males and females both embroider their vests and headscarves and both sexes must complete the creation of basic weaponry- often a bow and arrows or a spear- for the final portion of the ritual. <br><br>
Once the weaponry is fashioned and the dances and songs have been learned to the Council and bardpriest's satisfaction, the youth is sent out into the desert of Thanalan for one full day and one full night. They are not given food nor water, having to find these things on their own. Many Coeurl tribesmembers relate that they are given visions during this time, shown the way to prey or to water sources by elemental spirits, by the coeurl, or by following the shadow of Azeyma's fan.<br><br>
When the youth returns to the village at dawn, they are gifted with their embroidered clothing, feasted, and welcomed into the adolescent world. A small celebration is thrown in their village and the youth must sing and dance what they have learned both from the jali and on their spiritual and survival journey into the wilds of the desert. When the celebration is over, the youth is free to choose a ton, to leave the communal housing of their mothers, and to learn a trade. It is at this time that tattooing is common, with many Coeurl adolescents choosing to get tattoos on their faces or elsewhere detailing their journey into the wild.

====The 'Ton'====

The ton are the communities within the villages of adolescent male and female miqo'te that are learning a trade. All of the ton are open to both sexes, however living arrangements are divided into male and female communal housing with an elder member of the ton so as to discourage courting or unsupervised pairings. The ton are used much like the outer world uses their various schools- there is a warrior's ton where the adolescents will learn the arts of war, tactics, how to weild various weapons, and how to work in a team, a hunter's ton that focuses on archery and tracking, a cooking ton, a weaver's ton, et cetera. <br><br>
The only profession that does not have a ton is that of the jali. This profession is passed down strictly through bloodlines due to the extensive amount of training required to learn the songs, dances, and rituals. The adolescent progeny of the jali in the villages are encouraged to join other tons, however their studies as the future bardpriest in the village take precedence. <br><br>
The warrior's ton is an excellent example of how tons work in Coeurl society. An adolescent joins at the lowest level, the ''Sword Bearer'' or ''Afena''. At this level, the adolescent warrior is given a mock wooden weapon and is typically treated as a runner, expected to learn by being silent and watching their elders. They perform many of the chores of the communal housing in order to learn discipline. They typically spar only with other Afena. In war, the Afena are camp runners, thus the title sword-bearer. The next level is ''Apprentice'' or ''Adum''. Upon graduating to apprentice level, the warrior has been taken under the wing of a older student and is given a blunted metal weapon and begins being taught tactics, the way of fighting that the Coeurl tribe favors. Adum are allowed to request sparring sessions with members of their own rank as well as the rank above them. They still perform chores but usually only do those related to attending to their mentors. In war, the Adum act as squires, sticking close to their mentors and providing for any and every need. The next rank in the ton is ''Warrior'' or ''Asafo''- these are the bulk of the fighting force of the village and are adults in the tribe that have undergone their adulthood rite of passage and returned to become mentors in the ton. Very rarely a nunh will be a part of this rank, however it is mostly made up of tias and females not currently bearing cubs. The final rank is the head of the warrior ton as well as the de facto general in times of war, the ''Ankobia''. This rank is chosen by the Council from the best warriors in the ton and is typically held until resignation or death in battle.<br><br>
The non-combat focused tons, such as the weaver's ton or the cooking ton, have slightly different structures and graduation standards, however they generally hold to the same idea as the more martial tons. The biggest difference is that the heads of these tons are not appointed by the Council but are chosen by the ton in an internal vote held among the adult members of the group.

====Singing/Hunting the World====

The final ritual most Coeurl tribespeople undergo is that of Hunting the World (called Singing the World for the daughters of jali). It is a relatively new rite, begun when Ul'dah began being settled so close to their traditional hunting grounds which introduced the tribe to many new people and new cultures. The legend goes that after several failed raids on the fledgling city, attempting to drive the intruders off thier territory, the three Councils met and it was decided that the tribe would approach the settlers as an opportunity.<br><br>
The ritual occurs when an adolescent miqo'te has reached the second rank in his or her ton- or in the case of the jali's heir, when her mother has determined it to be time. At this time, the mentor that has been guiding the miqo'te will gift them with a simple weapon, rations, and a piece of clothing embroidered with symbols for protection and knowledge. The youth is encouraged to travel as far and wide as they can in order to bring back some new piece of knowledge relevant to not just their ton but all of the tons, whether it is a new recipe, a new way of sword crafting, or a new song. Once they have hunted new prey across the four corners of Eorzea, they are to return to their village and present their findings on the next Azeyma's Rest, where their position in the tribe will change from adolescent to adult. <br><br>
It is at this time that tias are considered 'old enough' to start challenging nunhs in earnest, though some unruly adolescent males attempt it prior to their Hunt. It is at this time also that females will change the embroidery on their clothing to indicate they are open to being courted by one of the nunhs, though again, younger females occasionally are mated to nunhs prior to their Hunt or Song, particularly during seasons of war.

===Family Structure and Children===

As with other Keepers of the Sun, the Coeurl tribe keeps to the traditions of having a limited number of males who breed, known as 'nunh's and a larger number of non-breeding males known as 'tia's. In the three villages, the number of nunhs is never greater than four and currently sits at three in each village, with approximately ten to fifteen tias per village. <br><br>
The number of tias include adolescent boys and old men out of their prime but still technically of breeding age and so may seem inflated. It does not include the two males on each Council, nor the males of extreme age, as they are no longer considered competition for the nunhs.<br><br>
Each nunh typically is mated to roughly ten females of breeding age, though that number is somewhat fluid depending on the females of the village and the nunh's efforts to maintain the relationships beyond simple breeding. <br><br>
Typically, the females live in communal housing, sharing the hunting, gathering, cooking, and child-rearing duties amongst one another, with the very young and very old tias assisting. Each member of a nunh's household is considered family despite previous blood ties, with the females of a household referring to one another as 'sisters' or 'mothers' and the tias of a village either 'little brother' or 'uncle' depending on youth or age. The council members are always 'grandmother/father' depending on sex. The nunhs are typically not referred to in this familial manner, whether due to incest taboos or due to some honorary status attached to their names it is not clear. <br><br>
Childrearing is a communal process that begins after the cub's eighth day after birth. Prior to that day, the mother and cub are separated from the rest of the tribe and visited by the jali daily so that they may rest and be kept safe from negative influences. On the eighth day, the cub is presented to the tribe and the jali performs a brief ritual so that the elemental spirits will reveal the cub's name. The name is then typically not used in daily life, most Coeurl preferring nicknames or petnames until the cub is old enough to undergo their coming of age ritual.

====Courtship====

The courtship rituals of the Coeurl tribe are varied but are based on exogenous systems- it is taboo to join with a nunh within one's village. Therefore, holidays such as Azeyma's Rest and Azeyma's Rising are extremely important cultural exchanges wherein the females of the villages meet the nunhs and tias of their neighbors. Dancing is a common form of flirting, with the females dancing before the nunhs and the nunhs dancing before the females in turn in displays of strength, skill, beauty, and sexual prowess. As mentioned previously, such displays are common on Azeyma's Rest.<br><br>
When a nunh decides upon a female he would like to court, he will typically give her a small gift- jewelry is common, as are small embroidered or woven swatches of cloth, or for the martially inclined female, beautifully inlaid or filigreed small weapons like knives. Once the gift is received and accepted, the nunh will then stage a ceremonial kidnapping of the female from her ton, typically with the elder member of the communal dwelling's approval. If the kidnapping is done well, the female will move her things the next morning from the ton into the communal housing of the nunh's other mates. If the female is disappointed in the kidnapping, the gift, or the nunh in any way, she will petition one of the tias of her village, who will arrive to return her home to her village. <br><br>
The concepts of marriage and divorce are not followed in the tribe, though they are aware of such things existing. If a female feels neglected or displeased with the nunh she is mated to, she may leave his dwelling and either return to her village or, if another nunh is courting her, she may be ceremonially kidnapped from her current nunh. This typically occurs with younger females that have not yet borne cubs that are mated to older nunhs and often heralds a nunh being challenged.

====Nunhs and Tias====

When a tia decides to challenge a nunh for breeding rights, there are a few ways in which the Coeurl tribe typically settles such challenges. It is the nunh's right to choose the weapon and the tia's right to choose the terms- first outside the circle, to first blood, etc. It is strictly taboo for a challenge to occur during a time of war, though it is not unheard of for a tia to take advantage of the chaos of combat to eliminate a rival and petition for their position. Typical challenges occur during spring and summer, with the most common forms of combat being wrestling matches (claws and teeth being absolutely necessary for the Coeurl version of this sport), swordplay to first blood, even games of skill such as a game called ''Oware'', which is played on a board with several pits and small glass beads.<br><br>
If a tia is defeated, they lose face for a short time (particularly if extremely cocky) but can work themselves back into the good graces of the tribe relatively easily. It is generally seen as extremely poor judgement for multiple tias to challenge a nunh back to back and should the Council suspect that tias have banded together to take out a nunh they may punish the offenders extremely severely- exile being the accepted punishment.<br><br>
Should a nunh lose his place in the village, he will be taken in as a respected tia but the females in his dwelling typically return to their respective villages with their cubs where they will move in with their mothers or go to the tons where they lived prior to joining with the nunh. The new nunh must go about the courtship rituals from the beginning and establish himself anew.

===Warfare===
The Coeurl tribe is typically peaceful amongst themselves. They have a long and bloody history of warfare with the lizard beastmen the amal'jaa to the east as well as minor skirmishes with other miqo'te tribes and the occasional bandit troupe that attempts to encroach upon their very large territory. This includes pirates attempting to use the Bay of Dha'yuz as a safe bearth. As a result of this, the tribe has learned to translate their natural speed, hearing, and sense of smell into powerful guerilla-warfare style combat.<br><br>
Considering one of the tribe's tons is focused entirely on hand-to-hand combat (the warriors) and another is focused on archery and tracking, the Coeurl tribe is skilled in using small groups of combatants to surround an enemy, whereupon they flush them and using silent or near-silent communcation, they force their enemy into running combat whenever possible, picking them off. When the enemy stands to face them or proves to be better armed or armored, the tribe uses their knowledge of the land to set up traps, not above using their own or one of their enemies as bait.<br><br>
Typically, the Coeurl tribe does not have any residents with the ability to call upon magical forces, though the occasional prodigy has been known to occur. Such usually leaves the tribe during their period of Hunting the World. It is not unheard of for there to be one or more members of the tribe with the skill to summon manifestations of the elementals, however, and the jali are generally recognized as skilled healers- whether due to a knowledge of herbs, spices, and other primitive alchemy or due to a skill at conjury is not clear at this time.<br><br>
In battle, the Coeurl tribe will often paint themselves with dark blue symbols and stain the pads and claws of their hands so that should they be unarmed, they still strike with the power of the spirits.

====Ritual Weapons====

The Coeurl tribe practices a unique battle ritual in that they will only use certain materials in weapons used to kill enemies versus weapons used to hunt. The belief is that hunting is a sacred rite, as is battle, and each must adhere to it's own ways. A hunting bow, for instance, may be strung with the gut of one of the miqo'te's first kills, whereas a war bow will be strung with the hair of the first enemy to be successfully faced.

===Death===

The tribe's view on death is one of renewal- death is part of the cycle of life and therefore the spirit of the dead must be encouraged to walk on. Upon the death of a village member, the village will gather to cremate the body. Upon cremation, it is fervently wished that the deceased miqo'te will go on to “live in the Warden's warmth”. The ashes are then taken and used in the casting of several small bells which are hung in the windows and doorways of the deceased's former home or ton, where the desert wind will cause them to ring joyfully and remind those still living of the brightness of the life beyond.

===Impact of Outside Cultures===

The Coeurl tribe are not located terribly far from Ul'dah. As a result of their proximity to this large, bustling city, many of the younger members of the tribe who leave on their Hunt or Song leave and do not return. Whether they are lured away from the tribal society by the larger promise of riches, fame, and adventure or victimized due to their naivete is not clear, however it is certain that each year a few Coeurl adolescents do not return from their rite of passage.<br><br>
Overall, the Coeurl tribe takes on a somewhat conflicting approach to the outside world. “ I against my brother, my brothers and I against my cousins, then my cousins and I against strangers.” is a common tribal saying but the concept of ''diyafa'' or hospitality is deeply ingrained into the Coeurl. Even an enemy that requests hospitality is granted it and to turn one that asks away is a deeply shameful act. The villagers seem to be most content to have the greater world held at arm's distance but will not hesitate to welcome it should it pass their gates.<br><br>
That is not to say that the tribe is a dying one. The tribe has learned many things due to the process of the Song/Hunt and since the Calamity they have taken in orphans and members from the more nomadic tribes in the area that were displaced when the Deepvoid appeared. As a result, the tribe is currently in a state of some flux, with changes being made to previously rigid systems. It is uncertain whether the Coeurl tribe of current day and the Coeurl tribe of the future will resemble one another at all.

==Art and Music==

===Dress===

The Coeurl tribe favors loose, flowing clothing, dyed or woven with a variety of bright colors. After the coming of age ritual, the villagers each have a ''tagelmust'' or combination turban/veil that is embroidered more and more elaborately throughout their life. Typically, the tagelmust is dyed a bright blue using a method that requires the dyer to pound the color into the cloth due to the lack of readily available water. As the miqo'te grows, they add embroidery to the headscarf until it is so thickly embroidered with the details of their deeds that the original blue is almost invisible.

====Weaving====

The members of the weaver's ton of the Coeurl tribe have learned a great deal from the outside world, especially Ul'dah, and have become quite adept at using their natural dexterity to create elaborate designs where each color has it's own meaning. The tribe has become known in certain circles for the brilliance of their colors and the delicacy of it's designs and trade relations have tentatively begun to export the Coeurl weaving into Ul'dah.<br><br>
Some of the colors and themes common in Coeurl textile work are:
{|
|-
| valign=”top” |
* Light blue- spiritual ties, lightning
* Dark blue- strength, power in battle
* Gold/Orange- fertility, joy, glory; associated with Azeyma
| valighn=”top” |
* Purple- femininity, fertility
* Green- healing, growth, purity
* Black- festivals, spiritual energy
|}

====Jewelry====

Jewelry is common for both males and females in the Coeurl tribe, with designs varying but trending towards the abstract and elaborate. The tribe favors the use of symbols to evoke adages, old stories, and folk heros, and these symbols are very popular in jewelry. Crystals, gemstones, and precious metals are all common, with most jewelry being made using either the lost-wax casting method or the filigree method, both of which favor delicate designs and allow for a great deal of intricacy.<br><br>
The village nunhs each carry a ceremonial weapon that is more appropriately considered a piece of jewelry. A sword created out of fulgarite glass- the glass that is made when lightning hits sand. Carefully crafted by the best swordsmiths in the villages, these swords are passed on when the nunhs are challenged and are a symbol of both their strength and the fragility of their position in the tribe.<br><br>
Females tend to favor small bells around wrists and ankles when in the village.<br><br>
At this time, the miners of Ul'dah have not realized that the sands around the Coeurl villages are rich in naturally occuring gold and precious stones.

===Tattoos===

Much like the jewelry, the tattoos of the Coeurl tribe trend towards abstract symbols with deeper meanings. Most members of the tribe are tattooed in one form or another, many receiving their tattoos at their coming of age ceremony and adding to them after their Hunt/Song. It is common in the tribe to receive tattoos on the face, across the cheeks and nose, as well as on the upper arms and across the shoulders.

===Music===

====Common Instruments====
The Coeurl tribe favors percussion instruments, several different kinds of drums being common among the villages. Each village has a very large drum meant to be used as a message relay system, all the way down to very small bongo-style drum sets held between the knees. Each of the three villages have a sacred drum that the jali uses when doing ritual songs, made of cactuar with coeurl hide. These drums are believed to beat with the sacred heart of the coeurl itself and have been carefully tended by the jali over many generations.<br><br>
Besides the drums, instruments like bells and bone flutes are common, with many of the tribe adorning wrists, ankles, ears, and tails with small tinkling accessories to create a musical counterpoint to the heavy percussion common in their dances.<br><br>
The Coeurl tribe also use their voices in various ululations and calls, having a much wider range of vocalizations than the Hyur, Roegadyn, or Lalafell.

====Dance====

Dance is an extremely important part of Coeurl culture. It is part of their courtship rituals, part of their coming of age rituals, part of their religious rites, and a part of their spiritual life. Most Coeurl dances involve the entire body from the tips of their ears to the ends of their toes and are driven by strong percussion created by drums and footpads hitting the earth.<br><br>
In a species where communication can be subtly changed by ear and tail position, the ears and tails of the Coeurl are a big part of many of their story-dances, used to evoke emotions while the face is hidden by a mask or the hands.

Coeurl ceremonial garb is worn during their dances and there are a multitude of different dances for males, females, and both.

[[Category:Troupe]]

Falling Stars Tribe

2019-07-11T16:11:41Z

Anstarra: The initial keying in. I copied the template of the Coeurl Tribe, and am replacing information as I have time. All credit for the format goes to them!

{{speculation}}

Please note: This page is a Work In Progress based off the template used by the Coeurl Tribe

The '''Falling Stars Tribe''', an off-shoot of the [[:Category: Miqo'te Seeker of the Sun|Seekers of the Sun]] sub-race of [[Miqo'te]], are a historically insular tribe located in the tundra to the northeast of [[Coerthas]], in the lee of the mountains of [[Xelphatol]]. Until a few Turns ago, very few knew of the tribe's existence, but in recent times due to the expansionist ambitions of their now-deceased Nunh, they came into conflict with the city-states of [[Eorzea]]. Now, a peace has been established, and the once-xenophobic Falling Stars have taken an exploratory interest in the world beyond their borders.

{| style= "width: 200px; height: 200px; float: right;" border="1"
| '''Race''' : [[Miqo'te]]
| '''Clan''' : Seekers of the Sun
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Population''' : ~400
| '''Number of Villages''' : 2
|- style= "width: 200px; height: 200px
| '''Religion''' : [[Azeyma, the Warden]]; the Eight; the Fallen Nunh
| '''Naming Conventions''' : X' (pronounced ''she'')
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Location''' : North of the Black Shroud and east of Coerthas, in the tundra around the mountains of Xelphatol.
|}

==History==

WIP AFTER THIS POINT

As with the rest of their species, the Coeurl tribe arrived in [[Eorzea]] in the Fifth Umbral Era, when ice bridges were created across continents. The ancestors of the current tribe followed not only their traditional prey but also the visions of their tribal leaders and the beast that they revered, the coeurl. During the end of the Fifth Umbral Era, when the ice began to melt, the tribe migrated to the eastern portion of Eorzea, preferring the desert climate much like their tribal guide. Much of the tribe remained essentially nomadic, though each claimed their territories in various parts of the desert around what is now the city of [[Ul'dah]]. <br>
In the last several hundred years, three villages have broken away from the majority of the still-hostile tribe and settled down. They have created a tribal culture unique to themselves, abandoning the more common nomadic lifestyle in favor of cultivation and mutual non-aggression.<br>

===History of the Coeurl Tribe with the Amal'jaa===
Due to their proximity to the grasslands of Pagi'than, the native home of the lizard-like beastmen known as the Amal'jaa, the Coeurl tribe has had a history of open warfare with the beastman. Each side has claimed that their lands were invaded first, though the true first aggressor has been lost in a long history of small raids, larger battles, cease-fires, and near-massacres. At the current time, the Coeurl tribe has not been observed crossing the border into Pagi'than or Amal'jaa lands, however the beastmen have been increasing their raids into Thanalan- even so far as the city of [[Ul'dah]]- so it is likely only a matter of time before the current cold war escalates once more.

==Culture==

A note regarding the Coeurl culture at large and methods of communication in specific. Due to their proximity and the harshness of the environment they have carved their villages out of, the Coeurl have developed highly subtle forms of silent and near-silent communication using facial expressions, ear placement, and tail and hand motions. They use this form of communication amongst each other and to recognize one another while out in the world at large. As this is their default form of communication, when Coeurl tribe members are in society at large they are often regarded as somewhat twitchy.

===Politics===
Each of the three villages in the Coeurl tribe follows a system of government whereby five of the eldest members of the village- three females past child-bearing age and two males past hunting age- come together to discuss the good of the village. It is this Council that determines whether or not to declare proper war, when to look to new hunting grounds, and mediates disputes involving other villages, disputes between the various traditional ''ton'' (vocation-based fraternities and sororities), and disputes between nunhs. It is also this Council that determines which members of the tribe will be considered as 'Ankobia' and 'Master Hunter' (the titles are the same regardless of sex) and are qualified to lead the younger warriors and hunters, respectively, through their training.

===The Jali===
The position of bardpriest, known as ''jali'' is an important one in the villages of the Coeurl tribe both politically and spiritually. She plays the role of historian, mediator in minor arguments, spiritual bridge between the tribe and the elementals and the goddess, song-singer, dance teacher, and psychopomp along the rites of passage. <br><br>
The jali position is always held by a female and is passed only to female progeny as it requires too much movement between villages and into the outer world to be held by a tia or a nunh, who must be present in the village in order to protect it. <br><br>
Each village has it's own jali, however the jali of each village is expected to travel into the other villages as well as into the outer world frequently in order to maintain positive relations with the spirits and to learn the stories that are their stock in trade. Whenever one village's jali is gone, the other two jalis and their daughters are expected to pick up the duties. The only time all three jalis are required to be in the villages are during the two great festivals.<br><br>
The jali of the three villages are related. When the tribe crossed the ice in the 5th Umbral Era, one female had the ability that is now called 'The Echo'. She had three daughters. Over time, those three daughters have either raised or adopted daughters with that same ability so that they can trace their lineage in an unbroken line back to the first. The Echo has manifested in various different ways, leading to the jali's various duties. The current jali of the three villages consider one another sisters and have raised their daughters to do the same.

===Religion===
As with most of their sub-race, the Coeurl tribe worships the sun goddess [[Azeyma, the Warden]]. In her honor they consider themselves the ''warriors of the clouds'' and celebrate two large festivals annually. The tribe also reveres multiple manifestations of elemental spirits- fire and water being two elements of greater importance due to the villages' desert lifestyle. The reverence for the coeurl has made that figure a creature of folk tales, morality stories, as well as an intercessor between the tribe and Azeyma.

====Azeyma's Rest====
Azeyma's Rest is the summer solstice, when the Coeurl tribe believes that Azeyma shines her brightest before beginning to hide her radiant face behind her fan. It is a day to celebrate accomplishments of the year, to show one's strength, fertility, joy, and pride to the shining face of the Warden. It is often celebrated with elaborate dances, songs testifying the accomplishments of the tribe as a whole as well as individual members, and many times it is this day when young tias will attempt to challenge the nunhs of their village.<br><br>
On the day of Azeyma's Rest, the Coeurl tribe's largest number of courtship rituals are acted out. While a small number of rituals occur on other days of the year, it is considered good luck to be courted on the longest day of the year, as it is believed that Azeyma will bless the pairing with fertility and will allow the new female to join her sisters with that nunh in good harmony.<br><br>
Previously, there was a ritual enacted on Azeyma's Rest wherein a tia was chosen by the Council, sent into the wilds for 24 hours with nothing to eat or drink and no weapons. Should he return, he would be granted nunh status for that shortest night of the year and that night only and he should have his choice of any of the women of the tribe who would accept him, as they believed him to be blessed by Azeyma herself. Should a child be born of that symbolic union, they were almost universally heterochromic, a symbol of great importance to the Coeurl tribe and, indeed, the Seekers of the Sun as a whole. This ritual has largely fallen out of favor (at least publically) due to outside pressures from visitors to the tribe, who consider the practice overly superstitious. <br><br>
Azeyma's Rest is considered a holiday primarily celebrating the masculine elements of the tribe, with music, dancing, and story-telling following this theme. It is occasionally referred to as the 'male's new year'.

====Azeyma's Rising====
Azeyma's Rising falls on the winter solstice, near the end of the rainy season, when the Coeurl tribe believes that the Warden is beginning to rise from her long period of resting and is finally prepared to draw back her fan. As compared to the more boisterous celebrations of Azeyma's Rest, Azyema's Rising is a deeply spiritual holiday and is focused on preparing of one's self and one's village to move into the brightness of the Warden's light once more- and to be worthy of it. A holiday focusing on relationships between the spirits and the 'real' world, each village's cubs perform a ritual dance for which they have practiced for months wherein they form a chain that resembled a great fork of lightning striking through the three villages, moving from one all the way across the other two, until each dwelling and gathering place has been touched by their footpads- which have been stained a pale blue by grinding a flower that grows only in the rainy season.<br><br>
This same pale blue stain will be re-applied to the gates that stand at the entrance to each village, a symbolic rekindling of the bond between the Coeurl people and the lightning-bearing creature they revere.<br><br>
When the sun has set, many lanterns are lit and great feasts are prepared, and the village's female shaman and bard, known as a ''jali'', will step forward and begin to tell one of the stories of how Azeyma came by her fan. In the most popular version, the Warden's radiance was so dazzling the Miqo'te people became lost and wandered in the desert. They would have died had it not been for a great coeurl queen, who saw the brilliant goddess and took pity on the plight of the Miqo'te people, slipping between them and the shining sun's light. The coeurl's fur was burned black wherever the lady's eyes fell, like sunspots left behind one's closed eyes, but the lady was inspired, and fashioned herself a fan to shield her chosen people.<br><br>
Once the story is told, the jali will partake of a drug to send herself into a light trance as the village sings and dances tributes to the coeurl and Azeyma. While in said trance, the jali will attempt to seek the elemental spirits of fire, water, and (should she be lucky) the coeurl itself to ask for a year of abundant game, healthy childbearing, and safe passage for the cubs passing into adulthood.<br><br>
Given the deeply spiritual nature of this holiday as well as it's focus on beginnings, Azeyma's Rising is themed around the feminine and is considered the 'female's new year'.

===Rites of Passage===

When a miqo'te cub of the Coeurl tribe approaches their twelfth name-day, they are considered to be coming of age.<br><br>
At this time, the youth is taken aside by the Council and the jali of their village and is taught the history of their people and the ritual songs and dances of passage. They are also placed in seclusion until they complete the ritual items that will show the villages their change in status. Males and females both embroider their vests and headscarves and both sexes must complete the creation of basic weaponry- often a bow and arrows or a spear- for the final portion of the ritual. <br><br>
Once the weaponry is fashioned and the dances and songs have been learned to the Council and bardpriest's satisfaction, the youth is sent out into the desert of Thanalan for one full day and one full night. They are not given food nor water, having to find these things on their own. Many Coeurl tribesmembers relate that they are given visions during this time, shown the way to prey or to water sources by elemental spirits, by the coeurl, or by following the shadow of Azeyma's fan.<br><br>
When the youth returns to the village at dawn, they are gifted with their embroidered clothing, feasted, and welcomed into the adolescent world. A small celebration is thrown in their village and the youth must sing and dance what they have learned both from the jali and on their spiritual and survival journey into the wilds of the desert. When the celebration is over, the youth is free to choose a ton, to leave the communal housing of their mothers, and to learn a trade. It is at this time that tattooing is common, with many Coeurl adolescents choosing to get tattoos on their faces or elsewhere detailing their journey into the wild.

====The 'Ton'====

The ton are the communities within the villages of adolescent male and female miqo'te that are learning a trade. All of the ton are open to both sexes, however living arrangements are divided into male and female communal housing with an elder member of the ton so as to discourage courting or unsupervised pairings. The ton are used much like the outer world uses their various schools- there is a warrior's ton where the adolescents will learn the arts of war, tactics, how to weild various weapons, and how to work in a team, a hunter's ton that focuses on archery and tracking, a cooking ton, a weaver's ton, et cetera. <br><br>
The only profession that does not have a ton is that of the jali. This profession is passed down strictly through bloodlines due to the extensive amount of training required to learn the songs, dances, and rituals. The adolescent progeny of the jali in the villages are encouraged to join other tons, however their studies as the future bardpriest in the village take precedence. <br><br>
The warrior's ton is an excellent example of how tons work in Coeurl society. An adolescent joins at the lowest level, the ''Sword Bearer'' or ''Afena''. At this level, the adolescent warrior is given a mock wooden weapon and is typically treated as a runner, expected to learn by being silent and watching their elders. They perform many of the chores of the communal housing in order to learn discipline. They typically spar only with other Afena. In war, the Afena are camp runners, thus the title sword-bearer. The next level is ''Apprentice'' or ''Adum''. Upon graduating to apprentice level, the warrior has been taken under the wing of a older student and is given a blunted metal weapon and begins being taught tactics, the way of fighting that the Coeurl tribe favors. Adum are allowed to request sparring sessions with members of their own rank as well as the rank above them. They still perform chores but usually only do those related to attending to their mentors. In war, the Adum act as squires, sticking close to their mentors and providing for any and every need. The next rank in the ton is ''Warrior'' or ''Asafo''- these are the bulk of the fighting force of the village and are adults in the tribe that have undergone their adulthood rite of passage and returned to become mentors in the ton. Very rarely a nunh will be a part of this rank, however it is mostly made up of tias and females not currently bearing cubs. The final rank is the head of the warrior ton as well as the de facto general in times of war, the ''Ankobia''. This rank is chosen by the Council from the best warriors in the ton and is typically held until resignation or death in battle.<br><br>
The non-combat focused tons, such as the weaver's ton or the cooking ton, have slightly different structures and graduation standards, however they generally hold to the same idea as the more martial tons. The biggest difference is that the heads of these tons are not appointed by the Council but are chosen by the ton in an internal vote held among the adult members of the group.

====Singing/Hunting the World====

The final ritual most Coeurl tribespeople undergo is that of Hunting the World (called Singing the World for the daughters of jali). It is a relatively new rite, begun when Ul'dah began being settled so close to their traditional hunting grounds which introduced the tribe to many new people and new cultures. The legend goes that after several failed raids on the fledgling city, attempting to drive the intruders off thier territory, the three Councils met and it was decided that the tribe would approach the settlers as an opportunity.<br><br>
The ritual occurs when an adolescent miqo'te has reached the second rank in his or her ton- or in the case of the jali's heir, when her mother has determined it to be time. At this time, the mentor that has been guiding the miqo'te will gift them with a simple weapon, rations, and a piece of clothing embroidered with symbols for protection and knowledge. The youth is encouraged to travel as far and wide as they can in order to bring back some new piece of knowledge relevant to not just their ton but all of the tons, whether it is a new recipe, a new way of sword crafting, or a new song. Once they have hunted new prey across the four corners of Eorzea, they are to return to their village and present their findings on the next Azeyma's Rest, where their position in the tribe will change from adolescent to adult. <br><br>
It is at this time that tias are considered 'old enough' to start challenging nunhs in earnest, though some unruly adolescent males attempt it prior to their Hunt. It is at this time also that females will change the embroidery on their clothing to indicate they are open to being courted by one of the nunhs, though again, younger females occasionally are mated to nunhs prior to their Hunt or Song, particularly during seasons of war.

===Family Structure and Children===

As with other Keepers of the Sun, the Coeurl tribe keeps to the traditions of having a limited number of males who breed, known as 'nunh's and a larger number of non-breeding males known as 'tia's. In the three villages, the number of nunhs is never greater than four and currently sits at three in each village, with approximately ten to fifteen tias per village. <br><br>
The number of tias include adolescent boys and old men out of their prime but still technically of breeding age and so may seem inflated. It does not include the two males on each Council, nor the males of extreme age, as they are no longer considered competition for the nunhs.<br><br>
Each nunh typically is mated to roughly ten females of breeding age, though that number is somewhat fluid depending on the females of the village and the nunh's efforts to maintain the relationships beyond simple breeding. <br><br>
Typically, the females live in communal housing, sharing the hunting, gathering, cooking, and child-rearing duties amongst one another, with the very young and very old tias assisting. Each member of a nunh's household is considered family despite previous blood ties, with the females of a household referring to one another as 'sisters' or 'mothers' and the tias of a village either 'little brother' or 'uncle' depending on youth or age. The council members are always 'grandmother/father' depending on sex. The nunhs are typically not referred to in this familial manner, whether due to incest taboos or due to some honorary status attached to their names it is not clear. <br><br>
Childrearing is a communal process that begins after the cub's eighth day after birth. Prior to that day, the mother and cub are separated from the rest of the tribe and visited by the jali daily so that they may rest and be kept safe from negative influences. On the eighth day, the cub is presented to the tribe and the jali performs a brief ritual so that the elemental spirits will reveal the cub's name. The name is then typically not used in daily life, most Coeurl preferring nicknames or petnames until the cub is old enough to undergo their coming of age ritual.

====Courtship====

The courtship rituals of the Coeurl tribe are varied but are based on exogenous systems- it is taboo to join with a nunh within one's village. Therefore, holidays such as Azeyma's Rest and Azeyma's Rising are extremely important cultural exchanges wherein the females of the villages meet the nunhs and tias of their neighbors. Dancing is a common form of flirting, with the females dancing before the nunhs and the nunhs dancing before the females in turn in displays of strength, skill, beauty, and sexual prowess. As mentioned previously, such displays are common on Azeyma's Rest.<br><br>
When a nunh decides upon a female he would like to court, he will typically give her a small gift- jewelry is common, as are small embroidered or woven swatches of cloth, or for the martially inclined female, beautifully inlaid or filigreed small weapons like knives. Once the gift is received and accepted, the nunh will then stage a ceremonial kidnapping of the female from her ton, typically with the elder member of the communal dwelling's approval. If the kidnapping is done well, the female will move her things the next morning from the ton into the communal housing of the nunh's other mates. If the female is disappointed in the kidnapping, the gift, or the nunh in any way, she will petition one of the tias of her village, who will arrive to return her home to her village. <br><br>
The concepts of marriage and divorce are not followed in the tribe, though they are aware of such things existing. If a female feels neglected or displeased with the nunh she is mated to, she may leave his dwelling and either return to her village or, if another nunh is courting her, she may be ceremonially kidnapped from her current nunh. This typically occurs with younger females that have not yet borne cubs that are mated to older nunhs and often heralds a nunh being challenged.

====Nunhs and Tias====

When a tia decides to challenge a nunh for breeding rights, there are a few ways in which the Coeurl tribe typically settles such challenges. It is the nunh's right to choose the weapon and the tia's right to choose the terms- first outside the circle, to first blood, etc. It is strictly taboo for a challenge to occur during a time of war, though it is not unheard of for a tia to take advantage of the chaos of combat to eliminate a rival and petition for their position. Typical challenges occur during spring and summer, with the most common forms of combat being wrestling matches (claws and teeth being absolutely necessary for the Coeurl version of this sport), swordplay to first blood, even games of skill such as a game called ''Oware'', which is played on a board with several pits and small glass beads.<br><br>
If a tia is defeated, they lose face for a short time (particularly if extremely cocky) but can work themselves back into the good graces of the tribe relatively easily. It is generally seen as extremely poor judgement for multiple tias to challenge a nunh back to back and should the Council suspect that tias have banded together to take out a nunh they may punish the offenders extremely severely- exile being the accepted punishment.<br><br>
Should a nunh lose his place in the village, he will be taken in as a respected tia but the females in his dwelling typically return to their respective villages with their cubs where they will move in with their mothers or go to the tons where they lived prior to joining with the nunh. The new nunh must go about the courtship rituals from the beginning and establish himself anew.

===Warfare===
The Coeurl tribe is typically peaceful amongst themselves. They have a long and bloody history of warfare with the lizard beastmen the amal'jaa to the east as well as minor skirmishes with other miqo'te tribes and the occasional bandit troupe that attempts to encroach upon their very large territory. This includes pirates attempting to use the Bay of Dha'yuz as a safe bearth. As a result of this, the tribe has learned to translate their natural speed, hearing, and sense of smell into powerful guerilla-warfare style combat.<br><br>
Considering one of the tribe's tons is focused entirely on hand-to-hand combat (the warriors) and another is focused on archery and tracking, the Coeurl tribe is skilled in using small groups of combatants to surround an enemy, whereupon they flush them and using silent or near-silent communcation, they force their enemy into running combat whenever possible, picking them off. When the enemy stands to face them or proves to be better armed or armored, the tribe uses their knowledge of the land to set up traps, not above using their own or one of their enemies as bait.<br><br>
Typically, the Coeurl tribe does not have any residents with the ability to call upon magical forces, though the occasional prodigy has been known to occur. Such usually leaves the tribe during their period of Hunting the World. It is not unheard of for there to be one or more members of the tribe with the skill to summon manifestations of the elementals, however, and the jali are generally recognized as skilled healers- whether due to a knowledge of herbs, spices, and other primitive alchemy or due to a skill at conjury is not clear at this time.<br><br>
In battle, the Coeurl tribe will often paint themselves with dark blue symbols and stain the pads and claws of their hands so that should they be unarmed, they still strike with the power of the spirits.

====Ritual Weapons====

The Coeurl tribe practices a unique battle ritual in that they will only use certain materials in weapons used to kill enemies versus weapons used to hunt. The belief is that hunting is a sacred rite, as is battle, and each must adhere to it's own ways. A hunting bow, for instance, may be strung with the gut of one of the miqo'te's first kills, whereas a war bow will be strung with the hair of the first enemy to be successfully faced.

===Death===

The tribe's view on death is one of renewal- death is part of the cycle of life and therefore the spirit of the dead must be encouraged to walk on. Upon the death of a village member, the village will gather to cremate the body. Upon cremation, it is fervently wished that the deceased miqo'te will go on to “live in the Warden's warmth”. The ashes are then taken and used in the casting of several small bells which are hung in the windows and doorways of the deceased's former home or ton, where the desert wind will cause them to ring joyfully and remind those still living of the brightness of the life beyond.

===Impact of Outside Cultures===

The Coeurl tribe are not located terribly far from Ul'dah. As a result of their proximity to this large, bustling city, many of the younger members of the tribe who leave on their Hunt or Song leave and do not return. Whether they are lured away from the tribal society by the larger promise of riches, fame, and adventure or victimized due to their naivete is not clear, however it is certain that each year a few Coeurl adolescents do not return from their rite of passage.<br><br>
Overall, the Coeurl tribe takes on a somewhat conflicting approach to the outside world. “ I against my brother, my brothers and I against my cousins, then my cousins and I against strangers.” is a common tribal saying but the concept of ''diyafa'' or hospitality is deeply ingrained into the Coeurl. Even an enemy that requests hospitality is granted it and to turn one that asks away is a deeply shameful act. The villagers seem to be most content to have the greater world held at arm's distance but will not hesitate to welcome it should it pass their gates.<br><br>
That is not to say that the tribe is a dying one. The tribe has learned many things due to the process of the Song/Hunt and since the Calamity they have taken in orphans and members from the more nomadic tribes in the area that were displaced when the Deepvoid appeared. As a result, the tribe is currently in a state of some flux, with changes being made to previously rigid systems. It is uncertain whether the Coeurl tribe of current day and the Coeurl tribe of the future will resemble one another at all.

==Art and Music==

===Dress===

The Coeurl tribe favors loose, flowing clothing, dyed or woven with a variety of bright colors. After the coming of age ritual, the villagers each have a ''tagelmust'' or combination turban/veil that is embroidered more and more elaborately throughout their life. Typically, the tagelmust is dyed a bright blue using a method that requires the dyer to pound the color into the cloth due to the lack of readily available water. As the miqo'te grows, they add embroidery to the headscarf until it is so thickly embroidered with the details of their deeds that the original blue is almost invisible.

====Weaving====

The members of the weaver's ton of the Coeurl tribe have learned a great deal from the outside world, especially Ul'dah, and have become quite adept at using their natural dexterity to create elaborate designs where each color has it's own meaning. The tribe has become known in certain circles for the brilliance of their colors and the delicacy of it's designs and trade relations have tentatively begun to export the Coeurl weaving into Ul'dah.<br><br>
Some of the colors and themes common in Coeurl textile work are:
{|
|-
| valign=”top” |
* Light blue- spiritual ties, lightning
* Dark blue- strength, power in battle
* Gold/Orange- fertility, joy, glory; associated with Azeyma
| valighn=”top” |
* Purple- femininity, fertility
* Green- healing, growth, purity
* Black- festivals, spiritual energy
|}

====Jewelry====

Jewelry is common for both males and females in the Coeurl tribe, with designs varying but trending towards the abstract and elaborate. The tribe favors the use of symbols to evoke adages, old stories, and folk heros, and these symbols are very popular in jewelry. Crystals, gemstones, and precious metals are all common, with most jewelry being made using either the lost-wax casting method or the filigree method, both of which favor delicate designs and allow for a great deal of intricacy.<br><br>
The village nunhs each carry a ceremonial weapon that is more appropriately considered a piece of jewelry. A sword created out of fulgarite glass- the glass that is made when lightning hits sand. Carefully crafted by the best swordsmiths in the villages, these swords are passed on when the nunhs are challenged and are a symbol of both their strength and the fragility of their position in the tribe.<br><br>
Females tend to favor small bells around wrists and ankles when in the village.<br><br>
At this time, the miners of Ul'dah have not realized that the sands around the Coeurl villages are rich in naturally occuring gold and precious stones.

===Tattoos===

Much like the jewelry, the tattoos of the Coeurl tribe trend towards abstract symbols with deeper meanings. Most members of the tribe are tattooed in one form or another, many receiving their tattoos at their coming of age ceremony and adding to them after their Hunt/Song. It is common in the tribe to receive tattoos on the face, across the cheeks and nose, as well as on the upper arms and across the shoulders.

===Music===

====Common Instruments====
The Coeurl tribe favors percussion instruments, several different kinds of drums being common among the villages. Each village has a very large drum meant to be used as a message relay system, all the way down to very small bongo-style drum sets held between the knees. Each of the three villages have a sacred drum that the jali uses when doing ritual songs, made of cactuar with coeurl hide. These drums are believed to beat with the sacred heart of the coeurl itself and have been carefully tended by the jali over many generations.<br><br>
Besides the drums, instruments like bells and bone flutes are common, with many of the tribe adorning wrists, ankles, ears, and tails with small tinkling accessories to create a musical counterpoint to the heavy percussion common in their dances.<br><br>
The Coeurl tribe also use their voices in various ululations and calls, having a much wider range of vocalizations than the Hyur, Roegadyn, or Lalafell.

====Dance====

Dance is an extremely important part of Coeurl culture. It is part of their courtship rituals, part of their coming of age rituals, part of their religious rites, and a part of their spiritual life. Most Coeurl dances involve the entire body from the tips of their ears to the ends of their toes and are driven by strong percussion created by drums and footpads hitting the earth.<br><br>
In a species where communication can be subtly changed by ear and tail position, the ears and tails of the Coeurl are a big part of many of their story-dances, used to evoke emotions while the face is hidden by a mask or the hands.

Coeurl ceremonial garb is worn during their dances and there are a multitude of different dances for males, females, and both.

[[Category:Troupe]]

Anstarra Silverain

2018-12-25T08:11:00Z

Anstarra: Updating some of the intro~

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game! And I love rumors, feel free to add~>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing to an upstanding patriot of the Alliance, to a part-time Adventurer with deep underworld connections. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with the Rendezvous Tea House and Host Club, and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To strangers, she's a sexy, confident amazon with deep hungers for both sex and violence. To her friends.. she's all that as well, but also a reliable, protective, self-sacrificing woman, with an absolute sense of loyalty.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnBra.jpg|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands in the upper range for miqo'te.. which of course still puts her beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence. She has also been described as amazonian and alluring, with breasts as large as you can find on a miqo'te, full hips, and hard muscle underlying her soft curves. She is proud of her body, and loves to show herself off.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. She believes every person has an intrinsic value that makes them worth knowing.. a belief some might find at odds with her willingness to kill. It's only strange until you realize she is just as happy to spare and befriend; even Garleans, beastmen and actual monsters trigger no prejudices in her. She enjoys pride and admires humility, feels protective toward the weak and excited by the strong.

She's by no means perfect, of course. Her capacity for violence is shocking, as is her penchant for self-indulgence. At her cruelest, she slaughtered a man so brutally with her bare hands as to make her friends weep. At her most depraved, she wallowed mindlessly in the life of a dedicated sex slave for days, and would likely still be there - despite being fully able to escape - had she not been extracted by another.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is now a Captain with the Maelstrom. She earned her first commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance, became a Lieutenant by being the highest-ranking soldier willing to volunteer for thankless duties among the First Foreign Levy stationed in Coerthas, and was promoted most recently again following the Dragonsong War's conclusion (where they needed someone a little reckless and not too hidebound to captain an experimental ceruleum-powered steamship). Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* Her ship, the Iron Bitch, a strong medium-sized frigate with a full complement of 250, has not yet blown up. It is crewed mostly by familiar faces from the First Foreign, but also by a small complement of field-commissioned officer-Adventurers, including Jana Ridah and Virara Wakuwa.
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.

::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.

::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.

::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.

::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.

::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.

::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.

::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.

::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.

::*'''Khunbish Adarkim''', a curious traveler from afar, a stranger from strange lands cheerfully finding his way.

::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.

::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.

::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.

::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...

::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.

::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.

::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.

::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.

::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.

::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*'''S'imba Tia''', a disaster-prone male who tries so hard to be a hero, and sometimes even succeeds a little.

::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.

::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.

::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.

::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.

::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.

::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer
::* "I hear she was at Kokoripu Hohoripu's art auction... and made off with quite a trophy!" "Master Kokoripu's prize treasure? The one he held the silent auction for? How much do you suppose she paid for that?" "How often, you mean. She only left the house the following evening, from what I heard." "Scandalous~!" "Ohohoho..." - Ul'dahn Socialites

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." "Actually, I hear she's at it again, since she got that promotion." "Where'd ya hear that?!" "Down at the Member, had quite a party..." - Lominsan Sailors
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith
::* "That's her, 'Mateus', right? Yeah, I swiped one of their portfolios, look [http://68.media.tumblr.com/281beeafbf7aafee067bc6e2876dcb31/tumblr_nj29njuT7i1smm21jo7_500.png here]. She shows up at the Rendezvous when they do those openings. Host Club. No, no, it's not a Brothel, they hate when people make that mistake..." - Well-heeled Adventurer

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon
::* "There's so many white-haired Adventurers about I really didn't think much of it at first, but doesn't she look a LOT like those boys and girls at the Cat House? No, that's not the real name... Bright Ones or something. Couple score miqos all moved in at once into that one house in the Goblet, weird thing. Eh, whole neighborhood's full of freaks anyway." - Goblet Resident

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]
::* "She is the Forerunner, Anis.... but she don't like being called that. Think her Outsider name is Ny... An'yan'starra?" - [[X'cinna Ares]]
::* "She's extremely deadly all of the time. I was at a party once and I watched her strip down and kill a man with her bare thighs. I had to buy her pants after that. - [[S'imba Tia]]
::* "Her boat stinks of iron. She stinks of blood. It stirs the memory... She is too generous. I mislike it, being unable to refuse." - [[Virara Wakuwa]]
::* "Anstarra... I suppose the best way to put it is that she's wild and free. She doesn't let anything hold her down. Though, that can be problematic in its own way." - [[Artoria Aldsan]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(1/16/2017)
Life has taken many twists and turns for Anstarra, but at the same time things are looking up. The threat of her tribe rose and fell and now simmers, quietly waiting to continue... yet she is far from bored, preoccupied with her [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=17401 Captaincy of the Iron Bitch and responsibilities to the Maelstrom], her unusual (and extremely secret) fate as one of the [http://hostingstars.shivtr.com/ Stars of Destiny], her [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=16070 investigations into cultists around Highbridge, and the affair of the Vylbrandi Chocobo], and any other number of amusements and preoccupations. For once, however, her love life couldn't be better. Engaged to and enamored of her lover Nihka, yet both of them still free to pursue and indulge in other lovers (as is often the miqo'te way), she finds pleasure and solace both in her own bed and others'... free to indulge her desires without guilt or recrimination (if not entirely without consequence, rumor mills being what they are).

(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

File:AnBra.jpg

2018-12-25T07:50:22Z

Anstarra:

Anstarra Silverain

2018-12-25T07:33:20Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game! And I love rumors, feel free to add~>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing to an upstanding patriot of the Alliance, to a part-time Adventurer with deep underworld connections. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with the Rendezvous Tea House and Host Club, and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To strangers, she's a sexy, confident amazon with deep hungers for both sex and violence. To her friends.. she's all that as well, but also a reliable, protective, self-sacrificing sort, with an absolute sense of loyalty.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is now a Captain with the Maelstrom. She earned her first commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance, became a Lieutenant by being the highest-ranking soldier willing to volunteer for thankless duties among the First Foreign Levy stationed in Coerthas, and was promoted most recently again following the Dragonsong War's conclusion (where they needed someone a little reckless and not too hidebound to captain an experimental ceruleum-powered steamship). Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* Her ship, the Iron Bitch, a strong medium-sized frigate with a full complement of 250, has not yet blown up. It is crewed mostly by familiar faces from the First Foreign, but also by a small complement of field-commissioned officer-Adventurers, including Jana Ridah and Virara Wakuwa.
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.

::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.

::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.

::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.

::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.

::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.

::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.

::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.

::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.

::*'''Khunbish Adarkim''', a curious traveler from afar, a stranger from strange lands cheerfully finding his way.

::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.

::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.

::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.

::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...

::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.

::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.

::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.

::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.

::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.

::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*'''S'imba Tia''', a disaster-prone male who tries so hard to be a hero, and sometimes even succeeds a little.

::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.

::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.

::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.

::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.

::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.

::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer
::* "I hear she was at Kokoripu Hohoripu's art auction... and made off with quite a trophy!" "Master Kokoripu's prize treasure? The one he held the silent auction for? How much do you suppose she paid for that?" "How often, you mean. She only left the house the following evening, from what I heard." "Scandalous~!" "Ohohoho..." - Ul'dahn Socialites

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." "Actually, I hear she's at it again, since she got that promotion." "Where'd ya hear that?!" "Down at the Member, had quite a party..." - Lominsan Sailors
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith
::* "That's her, 'Mateus', right? Yeah, I swiped one of their portfolios, look [http://68.media.tumblr.com/281beeafbf7aafee067bc6e2876dcb31/tumblr_nj29njuT7i1smm21jo7_500.png here]. She shows up at the Rendezvous when they do those openings. Host Club. No, no, it's not a Brothel, they hate when people make that mistake..." - Well-heeled Adventurer

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon
::* "There's so many white-haired Adventurers about I really didn't think much of it at first, but doesn't she look a LOT like those boys and girls at the Cat House? No, that's not the real name... Bright Ones or something. Couple score miqos all moved in at once into that one house in the Goblet, weird thing. Eh, whole neighborhood's full of freaks anyway." - Goblet Resident

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]
::* "She is the Forerunner, Anis.... but she don't like being called that. Think her Outsider name is Ny... An'yan'starra?" - [[X'cinna Ares]]
::* "She's extremely deadly all of the time. I was at a party once and I watched her strip down and kill a man with her bare thighs. I had to buy her pants after that. - [[S'imba Tia]]
::* "Her boat stinks of iron. She stinks of blood. It stirs the memory... She is too generous. I mislike it, being unable to refuse." - [[Virara Wakuwa]]
::* "Anstarra... I suppose the best way to put it is that she's wild and free. She doesn't let anything hold her down. Though, that can be problematic in its own way." - [[Artoria Aldsan]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(1/16/2017)
Life has taken many twists and turns for Anstarra, but at the same time things are looking up. The threat of her tribe rose and fell and now simmers, quietly waiting to continue... yet she is far from bored, preoccupied with her [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=17401 Captaincy of the Iron Bitch and responsibilities to the Maelstrom], her unusual (and extremely secret) fate as one of the [http://hostingstars.shivtr.com/ Stars of Destiny], her [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=16070 investigations into cultists around Highbridge, and the affair of the Vylbrandi Chocobo], and any other number of amusements and preoccupations. For once, however, her love life couldn't be better. Engaged to and enamored of her lover Nihka, yet both of them still free to pursue and indulge in other lovers (as is often the miqo'te way), she finds pleasure and solace both in her own bed and others'... free to indulge her desires without guilt or recrimination (if not entirely without consequence, rumor mills being what they are).

(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Orrin Halgren

2018-12-25T05:10:07Z

Anstarra: Leaving a rumor~

{{Infobox-character
| name = Orrin Halgren
| image = Orrin newest.png
| imagewidth = 300
|
| title = Banneret Tactician of the Temple Knights
(The Mutt of Ishgard)
| gender = Male
| citizenship = Ishgard
| race = Hyur
| clan = Midlander
| stat_1 = Place of Birth
| stat_1_value = Unknown, presumed Ishgard
| stat_2 = Guardian
| stat_2_value = Halone, The Fury
| stat_3 = Nameday
| stat_3_value = 26th Sun of the 3rd Astral Moon (Age: 34)
| stat_4 = Occupation
| stat_4_value = Dragoon
| stat_5 = House Crest
| stat_5_value = The Wolf
| stat_6 = Family
| stat_6_value = Charloix Halgren, Father
Reillette Halgren, Mother

Rodiath Halgren, Brother
}}

===<div style="padding:10px 15px; background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Appearance</div>===
"Mayhaps it would benefit Ser Orrin to remain in armor when attending these events, You'd almost forget that he was a Hyur."

''— Ser Sombrequain Hanrieaux, at the Ishgardian Summit and Banquet''

[[File:Ishgard.png|200px|thumb|left]]

Orrin possesses the physique typical of that of a Dragoon, lithe, muscular and athletic. his eyes are a steely ice-blue-grey that tend to be intimidating and intense. He has no scars, visible or otherwise on pale skin that closely resembles the now sun-bereft Coerthan highlands.

His facial features possess a degree of Elezen-like elegance betrayed only by a particularly strong Hyuran chin and nose. He grows his hair long, letting it drape over his face as if to hide it. However it is properly maintained and seemingly incapable of getting mussed up even when crammed into his helmet with the excess tied into a tight ponytail in the back. Some of the more gossip-prone ladies of the Ishgardian court say he grows it long to hide his ears out of shame.

Orrin used to stride into combat with his Drachen Mail and Dragoon Lance that represent his office as Dragoon. Though after his armor and weapon were all but destroyed in the battle against Vishap, he was given a slightly modified replacement set, the armor was bluish rather than the traditional purple and the helm possessed a runic glow akin to the statues that warded the Steps of Faith. It commemorated his participation and survival in that fight.

After revelations about Ishgard's true past, Orrin abandoned the dragoon's signature armor for something new, something representative of what he hoped was Ishgard's change for the better. Pouring over old tomes he read tales of Ursulie the Meek and her works. A rather candid account reported that it was superior to the drachen mail in all forms and was only held back by Ishgardian Orthodoxy. Though the woman took her works with her they were thankfully not lost to time. Dealings with Rowena gave Orrin access to his own personally fitted dragonlancer gear, the perfect representation of the new republic in his mind.

<table style="position:left;" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b>
<div style="padding:5px 10px;background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Basic Info''</div></b>

: '''Height:''' (5'9")

: '''Weight:''' Muscular (190 lbs.)

: '''Complexion:''' pale pinkish

: '''Hair:''' Brown

: '''Eyes:''' Ice Blue-Grey

: '''Particular Traits:''' Intimidating thousand-malm-stare with tired cold eyes that betray his true age.

: '''Voice:''' not of particular note, masculine, refined highborn Ishgardian accent, clear and unambiguous

: '''Clothing Style:'''Tailored, well fitted clothing or full Dragoon armor bearing his house crest

: '''Laterality:''' Right Handed

</tr></table>

===<div style="padding:10px 15px; background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">History and Backstory</div>===

''"House Halgren is an Elezen House, yes."''
''— Ser Orrin Halgren, for the nth time''

((Minor disclaimer, in light of recent events in the Heavensward expansion, the nickname given to Orrin was formulated before the expansion, before any mention of "the Mongrel" even existing))

House Halgren is a minor house within Ishgardian nobility, the name's etymology supposedly tying back to other old Elezen names akin to the likes of Haldrath and Thordan, founding fathers of Ishgard. Existing from the beginning, the house enjoyed a strong, secure place within the walls of the city, playing a bigger role in politics than in the war. However, during a particularly vicious period of extended Dravanian assualts, House Halgren suffered greatly, leaving a singular successor to the name: Charloix Halgren, an Inquisitor. After the dust had settled, Charloix quickly took a wife, Reillette, a cannoneer he had fallen in love with during a siege by the Dravanian Horde. Some believed that Charloix consorting with a commoner spelled the demise of the House.

It seemed to be true, for after years of trying, they had failed to produce an heir. Talks of the end of one of the first houses of Ishgard began to circulate, whispers of succession and the like abounded. However one day, Charloix was charged with investigating the burnt down remains of a fallen settlement, to verify whether it was a dragon attack or the work of heretics. He heard a cry and within the wreckage of one house was a Hyuran baby swaddled and seemingly untouched. The settlement was so truly destroyed that book-keeping for the lost was nigh impossible and the child was left without name or relatives. Uncharacteristically for an Inquisitor, and perhaps spying an opportunity, he took pity for the child and made him as his own, dubbing him Orrin. He and Reillette raised the child happily, rearing him to be successor to the Halgren House, he was taught court etiquette and was formerly schooled from a young age. Orrin found little love elsewhere; teased by the other children while almost entirely ignored by the more fundamental members of the high courts of Ishgard. He became known as "The Mutt" due to his coat of arms and the rumors that he was possibly the illegitimate child between Charloix and one of the Hyruan house servants. In truth, it was more complimentary than other tales of him being a Dravanian in glamor. Orrin swore to prove them wrong by being a worthy successor to the Halgren name.

However, on the tail-end of his 8th summer, his mother became pregnant and it would not be until his "brother" was born that Orrin realized what it would mean. His parents were of course ecstatic when their healthy Elezen boy was born. Though his parents still loved him, they became more distant as they redoubled their efforts to raise Rodiath as their "real" successor. He came to the revelation that he would no longer bear the burden of carrying on the family name, and so sought ways to not only regain favor with his parents but also acceptance within Ishgard. It would also be that year that Nidhogg returned to raze Coerthas. Naturally Charloix was called to perform his duty of weeding out heretics and dissenters spawned by the dragon's terrible influence. This left Reillette to care for Orrin who had come down with a fever that seemed almost induced by the great dragon's appearance. It was then in one fever dream that he saw a vision, a woman's voice that promised him greatness and to be savior of Ishgard should he choose it. He awoke and he set his eyes upon becoming a dragoon, recognized by the Holy See; no, he would become Azure Dragoon. After Ser Alberic turned away Nidhogg and the dust settled, Orrin approached his father who had returned from his duties and fielded his request. Charloix encouraged Orrin to aspire for such heights, even spurring him on by the tales of Alberic having injured himself in the most recent fight; Ishgard would need a strong successor.

Orrin poured himself heart and soul into the arts, finding mentors within House Fortemps. His training brought him outside of the walls of the Holy City and it was there he found the Ishgard he wished to protect and serve. He quickly took to the lance as if fueled by the Fury herself, rising through the ranks quickly until he finally saw frontline combat against the horde. His unit was tasked to Aevis and Dragonflys but a full-size dragon broke past the lines and bore down upon him and his group. His squad commander was promptly immolated and the others were quickly routed. He put his first dragon to the spear in that fight, lopping off a talon before his weapon was shattered to splinters. It was then he took the severed talon in hand and gouged the fearsome beast through the eye to kill it. He survived that day and definitely thought the parallels of his kill to that of the legendary Haldrath was a sign of his fate to be the Azure Dragoon. Unfortunately, it would not come to pass for Ser Alberic had already taken in Estinien as his pupil years back and trained him personally. The title of Azure Dragoon belonged to the Elezen long before Orrin even had an inkling to be a Dragoon. Admittedly crushed, still he continued his training, becoming deadly competent, earning begrudging respect from the other highborne. it was only with Lord Fortemps repeated petitioning that Orrin was eventually recognized as a Dragoon of the Holy See; his own armor crafted and weapon forged for him and given station at Dragonhead.

He grew up handsomely as well. That, combined with the esteemed station as dragoon, he saw the hearts of some of the ladies from other houses thaw. However, they would never openly admit it. Regardless, it gave him the courage to approach the girl who was kindest to him as a child: Lady Millette Chirardien, an Elezen who returned the feeling. Orrin would not, for the sake of her honor, allow their relationship to become public. Further still, Orrin would come to witness Millette seduced by the bewitching words of the Dravanian Horde and see her align with the heretics. How her death came to pass was unknown to the public, but Orrin personally sought her out and ended her life.

The Calamity soon struck afterwards and when Coerthas was plunged into its seemingly eternal winter Orrin tossed himself at the horde as if to re-summon Nidhogg to battle by sheer body-count alone. His anger tempered only upon hearing of the supposed summoning of Shiva in primal form. But when Ishgard cowered impotently, unable to protect itself, sending outsiders and sellswords to do the job of its own men, Orrin's anger flared once more. What had happened to the country of valor and power he once knew? House Fortemps had always been accepting of outsiders and yet now it seemed they depended on them, cripplingly so. Ishgard hobbled where it once strode so proudly. What could the outsiders possess that so far outstripped the blood and strength of its own men? Was his own title as dragoon a concession for the lack of more capable and fitting men and women of old? Orrin would get leave by House Fortemps to explore the world outside of the highlands, leaving behind his own armor as he did so, believing it wrongly given. He would find the strength, the true and proper strength worthy of the Ishgard he believed in.

===<div style="padding:10px 15px; background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Preferences</div>===

''"It's a nightmare to serve Ser Orrin, he doesn't impose at all and expects me to hold conversation, can he not just order me around?"'' ''— House Fortemps servant''
<table style="position:center;" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b>
<div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #ECCA67;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Likes''</div></b>
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Drinking.
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Good food.
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Learning of the world outside Ishgard.
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Combat, though he would not admit it.

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #DFD59E;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Dislikes''</div></span></b>

: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Those who shirk their duty, especially fellow Ishgardians
: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Dragons, even though he wishes for Aymeric's peace to succeed
: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Those who speak ill of Ishgard.
: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Those that discount him on account of being Ishgardian.
: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> His nickname "Mutt"
: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Snow.
: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Non Ishgardians carrying a Dragoon lance or armor without good reason

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #C0C97B;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Favourites''</div></span></b>

: <font style="color:#C0C97B;" size="3">■</font> <i>Food:</i> Karakul Stew.
: <font style="color:#C0C97B;" size="3">■</font> <i>Drink:</i> Ishgardian Brandy
: <font style="color:#C0C97B;" size="3">■</font> <i>Colours:</i> Blue
: <font style="color:#C0C97B;" size="3">■</font> <i>Place:</i> Costa del Sol.
: <font style="color:#C0C97B;" size="3">■</font> <i>Festival:</i> Starlight Celebration.

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #CACFA5;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Other''</div></span></b>

: <font style="color:#CACFA5;" size="3">■</font> <i>Alignment:</i> Neutral Good to Lawful Good
: <font style="color:#CACFA5;" size="3">■</font> <i>Vices:</i> Drinking, Women, Miqo'te especially
: <font style="color:#CACFA5;" size="3">■</font> <i>Religion:</i> Ishgardian Orthadox Church of Halone, the Fury.
: <font style="color:#CACFA5;" size="3">■</font> <i>Goal:</i> To usher Ishgard forth into a new age of reformation and peace with its Dravanian enemies.
</tr></table>

===<div style="padding:10px 15px; background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Personality</div>===

''"Remember when the ice was solely in our drinks?"''

''— Ser Orrin Halgren, on the 5th day of sleeping in a snow bank being beset by dragons at Snowcloak''

[[File:Ffxiv 07022015 150012.png|500px|thumb|right|<i> Orrin Halgren overlooking the last rites of his comrades after battle. </i>]]

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<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b><div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #ECCA67;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Flaws''</div></b>

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Obsessive, will find a goal and chase it tirelessly.
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Overly polite or indirect as a result of being raised for court etiquette.
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Intense.
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Emotionally detached, relationships are usually shallow if not business related.
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Only knowing some things from books as opposed to experience.

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #DFD59E;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Fears''</div></span></b>

: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Failure in duties to Ishgard.
: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Fear that Ishgard is beyond redemption and by extension, himself.
: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Being bewitched by the Dravanian Horde or consumed by the dragon's blood in his Drachen Mail
: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Being tempered.

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #C0C97B;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Talents''</div></span></b>

: <font style="color:#C0C97B;" size="3">■</font> Prodigious strength, stamina, and agility. Skill in combat with the lance and when unarmed
: <font style="color:#C0C97B;" size="3">■</font> Intelligence from being an educated noble
: <font style="color:#C0C97B;" size="3">■</font> Dragon killer
: <font style="color:#C0C97B;" size="3">■</font> Charmer/Silver tongued

</tr></table>

<table style="position:center;" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #ECCA67;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Intelligence''</div></span></b>

: Formally educated to be a Lord, has considerable knowledge of the history of Ishgard, its politics and its relations to its neighbors. He also has taken interest in the cultures of other places and knows cursory information about non-Ishgardian Hyurs and Elezen as well as knowing some info about the other races.

: Capable of reading and understanding most texts written in common tongue, only arcane or highly specialized texts elude his immediate understanding. Oddly proficient in understanding Dravanian

<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #DFD59E;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Quirks''</div></span></b>

: Overly friendly and open minded for an Ishgardian, though quick to turn on a dime the moment business is being dicussed.

</tr></table>

===<div style="padding:10px 15px; background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Abilities and Skills</div>===

''"Look upon the armor with its spikes and blades and horns and know it is meant for killing dragons. One day you shall die by either fire, fang or claw. By fire, you shall quench it with dragon's blood, by fang you will make their mouths bleed, by claw, you will leave it limping. The dragon will not take a single step without remembering that it had to cripple itself to kill ''you''. Wear the armor proudly, Dragoon." ''

''— Dzaemel Dragoon Forellant Teringuerre ''

Fate-14 character sheet: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1fO7jxe-M_v9DER8rEbNgj8rDfpoeQGllr6oOaPiIvaU/edit

<table style="position:center;" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b>
<div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #ECCA67;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Personal''</div></b>

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Dragoon appropriate agility/mobility
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Physical Strength
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Physical Stamina
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Fast Learner
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Quick Thinker
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Leadership
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Strategy

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #DFD59E;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Weapons''</div></span></b>

: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Fists
: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Lancer's Arms
: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> Dragoon armor's many spikes and blades

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #C0C97B;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Magic''</div></span></b>

: <font style="color:#C0C97B;" size="3">■</font> Only mastery over the aether required to pull off Dragoon feats.

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b>
<div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #ECCA67;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Epithets and Rewards''</div></b>

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Silver Scale Medal (Awarded by Kale Aideron in the campaign to retake Ala Mhigo bravery and leadership)
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> "of the Stout Banner" (Awarded by Kale Aideron in the campaign to retake Ala Mhigo)

</tr></table>

===<div style="padding:10px 15px; background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Why You Would Approach Orrin</div>===

section on ideas for walk up RP beyond just trying to hit on him at Quicksands. Should walk up/tell if:

<font style="color:#BEC3BC;" size="3">■</font> Of Ishgardian nobility and as such would know Orrin or heard of him

<font style="color:#BEC3BC;" size="3">■</font> Fought alongside Orrin against the Horde

<font style="color:#BEC3BC;" size="3">■</font> Heretic or Ishgardian fugitive

<font style="color:#BEC3BC;" size="3">■</font> Fellow Dragoon

<font style="color:#BEC3BC;" size="3">■</font> House Fortemps member

===<div style="padding:10px 15px; background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Affiliations</div>===

<font style="color:#BEC3BC;" size="3">■</font> House Fortemps

<font style="color:#BEC3BC;" size="3">■</font> House Halgren

<font style="color:#BEC3BC;" size="3">■</font> Republic of Ishgard (Formerly the Holy See of Ishgard)

===<div style="padding:10px 15px; background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Common Knowledge</div>===

<span style="font-size:smaller;">Note: This section is of information that can be used to influence RP before actually approaching and who would know such information and it won't be considered metagaming or godmodding </span>

<table style="position:center;" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b>
<div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #ECCA67;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Ishgardian Nobility/Inquisitor could know:''</div></b>

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Know of House Halgren and that it is Elezen

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Know of Orrin as adopted son of Charloix and of Orrin's brother, Rodiath.

: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> His "nickname": mutt

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Know of Orrin's station at Fortemps

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Know of Orrin's supposed skill as a dragoon

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Recognize him by sight.

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Orrin fought at the Steps of Faith

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Orrin fought at the Final battle of the Dragonsong War

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #CACFA5;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Ishgardian Citizen/Soldier could know''</div></span></b>

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Know of House Halgren and that it is Elezen.

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Know of Orrin as an adopted outsider.

: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> His "nickname": mutt

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Know of Orrin's station at House Fortemps.

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Witnessed or fought along side Orrin in battle.

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Recognize him by name via reputation as adopted outsider or skilled dragoon or Both

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Recognized by sight if fought alongside him

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Orrin fought at the Steps of Faith

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Orrin fought at the Final battle of the Dragonsong War

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b>
<div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #ECCA67;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Knowledgeable of Ishgardian Politics could know:''</div></b>

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Know of House Halgren, may not know it is Elezen

: <font style="color:#DFD59E;" size="3">■</font> His "nickname": mutt of Ishgard

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Know of an adopted outsider and feasible upheaval

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Depending on the above, recognition by name

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b>
<div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #ECCA67;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Anyone else could know:''</div></b>

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Possibly know of House Halgren, Orrin will be impressed

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font>Furthermore, know it is Elezen

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Orrin fought at the Steps of Faith/saw a Dragoon with the crest of a wolf fight at Steps of Faith

</tr></table>

===<div style="padding:10px 15px; background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Rumours</div>===

<span style="font-size:smaller;">Note: This section is editable by anyone. Just keep in mind that the rumors here may be both true or false.</span>

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<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b>
<div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #ECCA67;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''NPC Rumors''</div></b>

"I don't know what truth is worse, that he is not even flesh and blood of House Halgren or possibly the mutt-child of his father and a servant, leave it to a lowborn like Reillette to look the other way" '' — Ishgardian house servant''

"Have you ever seen a man actually use the spikes and blades on their armor? Woe be any Dravanian that takes away his spear, it will not be as clean a death." '' — Ishgardian Soldier''

"We met at night, had lept up to my chambers...it was passionate and yet distant, he was gone by morning. At least he was civil about not telling a soul." — Ishgardian Lady

"That man is the sole reason we are out of Ishgardian brandy, were it not for the coin he brings he'd be dragged out by the brass blades on my orders I swear it!" '' — Momodi''

"He means well but there is a darkness that won't be sated by dragon's blood, hopefully letting him see the world will bring him back with perspective" ''— Haucherfaunt''

"That mutt is making a mockery of what it means to be Highborne" ''— Ishgardian Noble ''

"The mutt better not die to dragons, I'll throw myself off Witchdrop if we have to give him a proper grave." ''— Ishgardian Templar Knight''

"Him? I'd never! To lay with him would be to lay with a dragon!" ''—Ishgardian Lady caught staring''

"He thinks he can hide his Hyuran ears under that hair? Deceitful to the last, dragon." ''— Templar Knight''

"He..he laughs, --he even smiles-- too much for an Ishgardian, its unnerving." ''— Gridanian at the Carline Canopy''

"Millette was always kind to him and she was a heretic. Coincidence? I think not!" ''— Jailed heretic at Whitebrim''

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><b>

<div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #ECCA67;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">''Player generated rumors''</div></b>

"The first time we met I thought he would drive me through with that lance of his. Now it seems he wants to drive me through with a different one." - [[Evangeline Primrose]]

"A seemingly well-intended man, albeit incorrigibly lecherous and dogmatically bound to duty." - [[Ameline Valtin]]

"I found him to be rather polite for a foreigner. He certainly bore my political posturing with the grace of one practiced in such things." - [[Coatleque Crofte|Ser Crofte]]

"The eyes he makes at women are troublesome, but there's fewer I'd rather have on my side in more than one respect. A smart fighter and better speaker than I could ever hope to be." - [[Jana Ridah]]

"A thoughtful man within a crowd of zealots. Be said whatever it has to be about his womanizing attitude, the courage he shows in thinking instead of simply acting is as inspiring as the sun rising from beyond the northern peaks." - [[Leanne Delphium]]

"Ah, the Halgren lad? Aye, we've met. Amusin' circumstances, really, what with me bein' asked t'investigate him on behalf of some lass. Only crossed paths t'once; he's completely shameless! But, he's got a sense of humor I can appreciate. " - [[Odette Saoirse]], several moons ago.

"Woefully uninformed." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

"He's a fool, a hot blooded one at that too. A hot blooded hot fool. But I suppose he's also quite the convicted man and has the best intentions. He's still a fool though." -[[Nivie Oirellain|Ninette Oirellain]]

"Ser Halgren? He's a good heart in him, truly. Tis a pity this blasted city made him doubt that for even a moment." - [[Therese Orycia]]

"We are acquainted, aye, an' I dun regret it fer a second, truth be told." - nods [[Odette Saoirse]], offering only a small smile in return.

"I did not like him at first. He gives lectures too easily. He was a typical Ishgardian, or so I thought. But the typical Ishgardian is given strength only by zeal, the typical Ishgardian does not fight to save the Twelveswood, and the typical Ishgardian would not have gained my respect... [[Kiht Jakkya]] Nay, I am not sleeping with him! Why would you ask that?"

"Angry Orrin, he is always angry! He frowns a lot. It's fun." - [[X'cinna Ares]]

"Mmm, yes, I know Orrin.. quite well, I like to think. I've seen him strong and weak, certain and troubled.. cold, and very, very warm. Absolutely, he's a flirt, and a lover of women.. but not the sort to lie, and tell you that he loves you, and wants only you. No, with Orrin, the only lies are the ones you might tell yourself, if you feel the need to 'justify' taking a man you just met to your bed." - [[Anstarra Silverain]]
</tr></table>

===<div style="padding:10px 15px; background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Name Etymology</div>===

''"It matters not what they say for ''now'' you come of good stock, wear your name with pride and honor and you shall always be my son."''

''— Lord Charloix Halgren''

Halgren: "Hal" from Halone and Haldrath, "gren" from green for the green lands of Coerthas

Orrin: [ 2 syll. or-rin, orr-in ] The baby boy name Orrin is pronounced AORRihN †. Orrin has its origins in the Celtic and Old Greek languages, and it is used largely in Irish and English. From Old Greek roots, its meaning is 'man of the mountains'

===<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Accomplishments</div>===

<span style="font-size:smaller;">Note: This section is dedicated to major life events and accomplishments that have been made over the course of RP with other people. AKA, stuff Orrin has done with other role players, playing parts big and small. This gives an idea of the sort of RP Orrin tends to get into in Eorzea.</span>

: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Helped take down a heretic cell that made its base of operations in Ul'dah.
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Commanded a party of adventurers during the battle of the Steps of Faith, was near fatally wounded in Vishap's death throes.
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Was part of the Ishgardian Dragoon scouting party that went to the Churning Mists.
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Aided in expeditions to the Great Gubal Library and the Fractal Continuum
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Made a raid into the Sylphlands to retrieve an ancient Black Shroud Relic, narrowly surviving the wrath of Ramuh
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Helped in preventing the resurrection of a self-proclaimed "Void Prince" in the Twelveswood
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Led forty-six Ishgardian soldiers along with eight other allies/friends in a battle against a primal version of Ratatoskr, revived by the fervor of cultists and a rogue Inquisitor. thirty-two men survived along with the allies/friends.
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Fought in the final battle at the end of the Dragonsong War before being forcefully retired to an officer position.
: <font style="color:#ECCA67;" size="3">■</font> Active participation in the Ala Mhigan Campaign, responsible for commanding Adventurer platoons along with Ishgardian forces. Earned the Epithet "Of the Stout Banner" for his steadfastness and calm in command during combat.

===<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #BEC3BC;font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Ongoing Story</div>===
''"By the end, Ishgard will care not for what you have said, but for the number of dragons you have slain."''
''— anonymous''
<center>

''This is for ongoing established canon, things that are within Orrin's past and have been achieved. This is book-keeping for myself primarily but also a good tool if you want to use it as a way to establish rapport such as "So you are the one who did so and so" ''

-Departure-

Orrin left Camp Dragonhead under leave of House Fortemps, he had left behind his Dragoon armor and weapon, feeling that it was wrongfully given to him. He set out to relearn and re-earn the ways of the Dragoon while seeking out the adventurer or whatever matched the drawings on one particular scroll from the Observatorium. The scroll spoke of places in Eorzea, rich in Aether, so closely tied to the other world that it was possible to speak to the twelve directly. Surely, if he could find a place, present himself as a disciple of Halone, The Fury would grant him audience and aid him. His first stop was Gridania, under the guise of an adventurer he trained under Ywain with the Wood Wailers at the Lancer's guild, seeking what nuances they brought to the art that Ishgard lacked. They trained quite similarly, value on keeping one's head in the most insurmountable of odds, a steely resolve even when out maneuvered and outmatched, unflappable to any threat. These were things Orrin already knew but to relearn them in a place without the constant threat of Dragons only confirmed to him that, at least as a soldier of the lance, Orrin was correct in his teachings and discipline. While in training he heard tales of a place that worshiped The Twelve, an ancient place called the Sanctum in the East Shroud. He headed there and on the way met Avaline Starsong, a Miqo'te, together they reached the sanctum and found that yes, the marking seemed to match, though the last symbol to confirm as much hid behind large sealed doors. He would part ways with Avaline there, though he found no sign of the Adventurer who stole the title of Azure Dragoon he had found a lead.

-Of Sealed Doors and Fates-

In Gridania, he could find little info about the Sanctum aside from how old and mysterious it was. He decided it'd be best to go to Ul'Dah, He had heard that rumors about all over seem to find the most traction there. He made way to the Quicksands and began to camp one of the many tables all the while keeping ears out for anything of his interest as he poured over the tomes he had brought with him. He'd meet a number of people, all contributing additional leads for what he sought, be it the adventurer or a way to open the doors. A person of particular note caught his eyes, an Ayleth Cowell who looked to him as if barely old enough to be out on her own. She'd disappear a few days. He would then find that the woman had been kidnapped by Amal'jaa and brought to the bowl of embers along with a small contingent of Brass Blades....Miraculously she returned unscathed and Orrin took considerable interest in this development, for if a woman could survive being tempered maybe there would be a way to immunize the soldiers of Ishgard against the twisting, bewitching words of Dragons.

He searched for wards at first, ways to aetherically interfere with Primals and then hoped to extend that to dragons. He came across Jolynn Zeles who posessed a book about warding off voidsent, though not necessarily Primals, mayhaps there would be similar applications. It would result in little but would bring him across the continent, from the Burning Wall to the corrupted lighthouse of Pharos Sirius. It would be on return from Pharos that he would make a stop in Eastern La Noscea on word of ancient temples reclaimed by the jungle hiding markings similar to the one on his scroll. It was there he was beset upon by a Dragon. He killed it and made it away with his life, though none closer to his goals. However, he saw it as a sign, Halone had sent a dragon to him to test his resolve and by killing it he deemed himself worthy once more to wear his armor. Of course that would mean returning to Coerthas.

He returned with little complication, reclaiming his Gae Bolg and Drachen Mail, it seemed the situation had only worsened for the city state and as such felt compelled to linger, He retook his station in Coerthas and served for several moons, slaying the horde with new found conviction and fervor. It would be there that he would meet an Adventurer, one who claimed to had also survived an encounter with a primal, attributing it to something called the echo. Though he knew little, what symptoms he exhibited did match that of Ayleth's, with a word to describe her immunity, he found greater ease in researching the subject.

-A door closes, another opens-

Much to his disappointment however, the Echo did not appear to be something that could be reproduced however, he was not entirely disheartened, there was still the adventurer out there, also, there was still the door that required to be open. He had set out back into Eorzea, with his weapon and armor in hand. Ready to move as an agent of Halone

-Obscure Geometry-

Orrin had come across talks in the Quicksands of a palace that had resurfaced from the Calamity draining the waters of Bronze Lake. An entire temple built by the people of Nym, dedicated to Oschon the Wanderer. A place of such extensive worship by such an advanced culture, Orrin reasoned, would be built on an aetherial fount of some sort. To confirm, he contracted the goldsmiths guild for an Aetherial detector, as that was being built he went to Limsa Lominsa, perusing the expansive library of the Arcanist guild for anything he could get about Nym and the works of channeling Aether through geometries. It was through these studies he noted similarities between the runes in the tomes of Arcanists to summon forth their avatars and that of the temple's layout. Were he correct, the temple was a giant rune, built with aether conducting materials meant to guide the wealth of aether into the center of the palace. Such power would, in theory, make a layman such as Orrin be capable of communing with the other plane. Though the architectural blueprints he had were from the time of Nym's heyday and the palace had been submerged for many cycles, the only way to see if his conclusions held any truth would be to work his way into the Palace center himself.

Returning to Ul'dah, he took the detector with him and made his way back to Vylbrand, to Bronze Lake. There it was, the looming palace right in the middle. With some ample gil he convinced the ferryman to take him to it. He pushed into the ruins and soon found himself overwhelmed, forced to retreat, he would need help. Enlisting the aid of adventurers, a history obsessive arcanist, a marauder and an archer he ventured back into the palace, taking aetherial readings along the way. Though the ruins were in ill repair, he found that his hypothesis to be true, aether congregated in increasing intensities the further in they ventured. Upon reaching the center he knelt in prayer. The room lit up with sparks and aetherial condensation before suddenly, Orrin was struck down and the lights died around them.

Catatonic to the outside world, he saw visions of ancient Nym, watched the horrific transformation of its citizenry to Tonberries and was given 3 haunting words: "Hear, Feel, Think". Orrin would soon be jostled out of the vision before he could glean any more by the arcanist's physicking. Drained, haunted by his visions they cut their way out of the palace.

He summarily paid the adventurers, the marauder, perhaps too mercenary for her own good, departed with nary a care for what had transpired, same with the archer. The arcanist lingered and prodded with questions, Orrin spoke of the visions and the words but the arcanist knew not of their meaning. They split ways and Orrin returned to Ul'dah.

-Echoes in the Cathedral-

Upon his return he heard the town was alight with news that the Sanctum of The Twelve had finally been restored for the sake of Eternal Bonding ceremonies. Though not his intended method, he now finally found means of ingress to the ancient cathedral. Much to his chagrin though, despite the markings matching the observatorium scroll to its finest detail, the "restoration" utterly ruined the aetherial conductivity of the building. The sanctum was a nexus for the Gods no more. He decided to rest in the Carline Canopy before departing back to Ul'dah, there, upon nearing a woman he fell unconscious and saw the battle of Cartenau, the selfsame woman fighting there, her name, her past all crystallized in an instant. When he came to he was sitting on one of the stools, facing the woman. He called to her by name and profession and it elicited her to reveal to him that he posessed the echo, a conclusion he had not thought of for those who he met before with it only spoke of their resistance to tempering. He needed more confirmation. Barring fighting a primal one to one, the woman spoke of the ability to purify corrupted crystals was common for those with the echo. He thanked the woman and was off to find such crystals.

He raided Natalan under guise of plain armor and weapon to not alert the Ixali of his Ishgardian origin, cutting past the guards to the aetheryte. He retrieved his quarry and sequestered himself in his private chambers in Dragonhead. He indeed had the gift. The realization floored him and he began to wonder if what he had was the real reason he was so capable those years past, that his own strength paled in comparison to the gift. Was his steadfast devotion stemming from the echo? Was he incorruptible, even to Dravanian influence? Did it make his feelings all the more correct and not just the fearful feeling in the back of his head that he was on the path to heresy?

It was not only till he heard tales and rumors that Lady Iceheart too held the echo that he concluded that though one could have the gift, one was not incorruptible entirely. He at least preferred that to the possibility that Dravania was in the right. Galvanized once more he set out for more answers.

-Scales in the Sand: A Heretic's Sense of Honor-

Orrin returned south, to Ul'dah, the bustling city being boon to him and his search for answers. Though he was circumspect about his status and station, nothing could hide how he spoke and that Highborn accent eventually betrayed him to one Evangeline Primrose, revolutionary, malcontent, branded heretic and strikingly beautiful. Clearly someone who had fled before Ishgard's judgement came to pass, outside the walls of the Holy See she was just like any other in Ul'dah, and so Orrin was unable to lift a finger against her so long as she was civil, a fact that she knew well for like a moth to a flame, the Elezen heretic was drawn to him. Evangeline, safeguarded behind the laws of Ul'dah would openly goad Orrin into arguments, using him as a figurehead against all grievances could be aired. Orrin feared even exchanging pleasantries with the woman could indict him upon return to Ishgard so he did as much as he could to avoid conversation with her but in the end they would become embroiled in debates.

Somehow, through all this, Evangeline saw Orrin as honor-bound as opposed to fanatical zealot, and eventually came to see him as friend, even though Orrin would never even address her by her first name. However, Evangeline did manage to snare him when she pleaded to be taught what it meant to be a knight, to have said honor for she had plans to become Sultansworn. And so began the unorthodox relation between Orrin and Evangeline, they would meet and train and through combat and meditation, trading of barbs both metaphorical and literal they started to grow close. In Evangeline, Orrin saw someone who was not lost, merely led astray, death for the blasphemer, was it truly the way?

-Scales in the Sand: Dubious goods-

Weeks had passed and though Orrin tried his best, Evangeline was petulant, impatient, fiery. She was skilled but to Orrin she lacked the discipline he saw fitting to be a knight and he feared that she was a lost cause. However Evangeline purchased his trust quite nicely when she came to him about the existence of a particularly draconic artifact she knew to be in possession of one Verad Belveil who was looking for confirmation. Orrin, duty-bound, went with Evangeline to the Dubious Distributions Estate and from there discovered that Verad Belveil was in fact in possession of something called a Wyrm Tear. A magicked artifact that shared in properties of both dragon's eyes and materia, it was the crystallized essence of a felled greater wyrm, dragons filled with such rancor and hatred that their very being would linger in the form of a Wyrm Tear.

Dismayed, Orrin asked how Verad had come into holding such a powerful and terrible object and found out nothing except that there were similar artifacts now flooding the market. Knowledgeable of the supposed corrupting nature of such heretic trinkets Orrin had to put his own personal search to a pause and set out clear Ul'dah of the possible deadly poison that had somehow managed to find its way to the jewel of the sands.

- Scales in the Sand:Stuff I want to write later -

HEAVENSWARD MAIN STORY SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT

- Battle at the Big Bridge-

His time in Ul'dah was interrupted by the sudden reawakening by Nidhogg. Begrudgingly, he returns to Coerthas, greeted by bloodshed of his kinsman and dragons alike. When Vishap descended upon the Steps Of Faith, Orrin was there among the myriad of men and women who answered Ishgard's call to aid. He led a contingent of his own, consisting of those like Kale Aideron and Jana Ridah of the Immortal Flames. Though his platoon suffered no casualties he was grievously wounded in Vishap's final death throes. His armor was destroyed, effectively crushed and he was bedridden for weeks. Despite all this he was lucid enough to find his every moment in the infirmary in Whitebrim to be utterly insufferable. He would find time and means to help with plotting military movements and retaliations even if he himself could not be there to carry it out. In the meanwhile a set of Drachen mail was commissioned for him, it abandoned the traditional dark purple and the now possessed the same runic glow upon the helm similar to that of the Steps of Faith. As soon as Orrin could stand and fight once more he waited for the first moment there was a lull in the assaults so he could return back to Ul'dah to finish what he had started. He knew full well that returning to Ishgard afterwards would mean taking on for the first time the terror that few ever lived to witness twice in their lives

- Scales in the Sand: Conclusion -

- Ever Heavensward -

- Truth in the Mists -

- Crimes against Nature -

Concluded.

- My Brother's Keeper -
Concluded.

- Starsfall part 1 -

- Freeing Ala Mhigo -

</center>
[[Category:Ishgardian]]

Artoria Aldsan

2018-03-07T23:28:29Z

Anstarra: /* Rumors */

<div style="display: none;">
<section begin=featured-blurb />
[[File:Artoria Circle.png|250px|left]]
'''Artoria Aldsan''' works as an adventurer and mercenary by trade, largely taking jobs in and around Mor Dhona, particularly when they involved squashing what remains of the local Garlean presence. A skilled swordswoman, she can often be seen at the forefront of battle.
<section end=featured-blurb />
</div>
<div align=center><div style="font-size:55px;letter-spacing:0.2em;color:#3E4557;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 5px silver">Artoria Aldsan</div></div>
<div align=center><div style="font-size:15px;letter-spacing:0.25em;color:#3E4557;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 5px silver;">Nightmare</div></div>

<br>
<div align=center><table style="position:center;" width="60%">
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<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #555555;font-size:14px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;letter-spacing:0.15em;"><center>'''VITAL INFORMATION'''</center></div></span></h3>
<br>
<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''CURRENT ALIAS...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Artoria Aldsan</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''CLAN...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> None</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''NAMEDAY...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> 25th Sun of the 1st Umbral Moon.</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''GENDER...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Female</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''AGE...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Early Twenties</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''ORIENTATION...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Bisexual</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''MARITAL STATUS...'''</font><font style="font-family:Georgia;padding:0px 5px;"> Married</font>

<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #555555;font-size:14px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;letter-spacing:0.15em;"><center>'''OTHER STATISTICS'''</center></div></span></h3>
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<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''ETHNICITY...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Mixed Heritage</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''NATIONALITY...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Garlean</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''RESIDENCE...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;">Goblet</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''OCCUPATION...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Mercenary</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''PATRON DEITY...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> None</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''HEIGHT...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;padding:0px 5px;"> 5 fulms 0 ilms</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#6d7689;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''WEIGHT...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;padding:0px 5px;"> 92 ponz</font>

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=General=
[[File:Artoria_commission_small_rounded.png|right|450x630px]]
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'''Artoria Aldsan''' works as an adventurer and mercenary by trade, largely taking jobs in and around Mor Dhona, particularly when they involved squashing the local Garlean presence. A skilled swordswoman, she can often be seen at the forefront of battle.

Artoria grew up within the Garlean Empire and is not a native to Eorzea. Characters who are involved with the Garlean military may recognize her from her past involvement.

Recently, she has married '''Renaea Algiernis,''' a noble of Ishgard whose family primarily serves the Fortemps. However, Renaea has been away from the city for some time, and so Artoria's ties to the city are thin.

She currently works as a free agent, taking leves here and there as an adventurer.

===General Appearance===

Artoria looks to be a woman in her 20's. She can typically be seen wearing armor, though she may wear lighter cottons and leathers if she is simply out and about a city. She seldom travels without a side arm. When she is expecting a battle, she prefers medium or heavy armor and either a two-handed or hand-and-a-half style of sword.

She is of slight frame, but lean muscles show evidence of training. Her pale locks and golden eyes often makes her easily recognizable to those given her description. The woman does not seem to possess anything of notable wealth, apart from the quality of her armor and weapons, which she is careful to keep in good condition. But despite her usual humble disposition, Artoria's carriage seems to indicate that she's had a well-born, or at least, a military focused upbringing.

Though she rarely is dressed light enough to allow it to be seen, her body is far more heavily scaled than the typical Au Ra's. Particularly along her arms and legs, she seems to be almost more scales than skin, her fingers and toes ending in claws. In addition, black veins run just under her skin, most visible across her chest where they center upon her heart.
</div></div>

=Behavior=

[[File:Saber_alter_rounded.png|200px|left]]
<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
Artoria is mostly quiet. She often holds her tongue on matters she considers not important. She used to come quickly to the defense of the weak, an instinct that she still has a hard time suppressing despite her best efforts. She dislikes bullies and will not hesitate to stand up to them, even when she is sorely outmatched or outnumbered. She is not quick to anger, but also is not quick to laugh or smile. Artoria can best be described as stoic, seeming almost machine-like at at times.

Artoria does not speak of herself too often, and while she does not often lie, she will often try to redirect the conversation or otherwise avoid the question if asked about her past. She also does not make small talk well; she is seen as quite serious by most, and some might even accuse her of lacking any sense of humor whatsoever. She has been making the attempt more often of late, but its success is another matter. She has a tendency towards naivety, and while she is not stupid, she will often take someone at their word.

Artoria is quick to learn, but seems convinced that her only talents lie on the field of battle. Despite her competence with the sword, she is still very green when it comes to the general knowledge of the Eorzea overall, and much of what she knows of Eorzea was learned in the last few years.
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=Combat=
[[File:Altericon rounded.png|400px|right]]
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When given a choice, Artoria would choose a sword above all else. She began her training with most martial weapons early in her childhood, and while she is skilled with other weapons as well, the sword has ever remained her preference. In a fight, she often falls into a defensive stance at the beginning, always preferring to protect others before going on the offensive. Despite this, she often becomes strangely cold and mechanical in battle, not hesitating to cut down weaker foes. However, it seems if she turns aggressive, she can go somewhat wild, almost like a sort of berserker state.

Artoria has received some training in magic as well, but despite having a large pool of personal aether to draw upon, she seems to lack both the inclination and the talent to take full advantage of it. Instead, she largely uses her aether to reinforce her swordsmanship. She not only throws out raw bursts of aether to act as both shield and attack, but also uses it to reinforce her own body, making herself faster and stronger.

Artoria remains extremely mobile on the battlefield. Despite her tendency towards heavy armor and defense, she is exceptionally acrobatic, able to leap from enemy to enemy in a manner similar to that of Ishgard's dragoons.
</div></div>

=Rumors=
<table style="position:center;" width="100%">
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<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;">
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<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #a0a5ae; color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ Common Rumors - </b>''Easily overheard.''</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color: #a0a5ae;" size="2">■</font>"Oh that girl? A quiet sort, but I can't deny she's good with the sword. She seems to work alone most of the time though." - '''An Adventurer at Revenant's Toll'''</div><br>

<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #848482; color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ Uncommon Rumors -</b> ''A little more difficult to hear.''</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color: #848482;" size="2">■</font>"Artoria Aldsan? She got married here not too long ago, to a Renaea Algiernis. You wouldn't expect an Ishgardian to fall in love with an Au Ra, but I suppose things are changing these days, or maybe that's just how strong their bond is." - '''An Attendant at the Sanctum of the Twelve'''</div><br>

<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #727472; color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ Rare Rumors -</b> ''Very rarely overheard.''</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color: #727472;" size="2">■</font>"That monster is still alive? Take my advice and stay far away." - '''A Deserter of the VII Legion'''</div><br>

<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #36454F; color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ Player Character Rumors -</b> ''Feel free to add rumors of your own!''</div><br>

"Mmm.. she has a monster inside her, yes. But, don't we all? It's just a question of getting our monsters to play nice together~" - Anstarra Silverain

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<div style="border:0px solid; padding:8px;">
<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #36454F; color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ More Player Character Rumors -</b> ''Feel free to add rumors of your own!''</div><br>
[[File:Artoria Circle.png|350px|right]]

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=Relationships=
<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #555555;font-size:16px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>'''R E L A T I O N S H I P S'''</center></div></span></h3>
<center>
{| style="border-spacing: 2px; border: 1px solid darkgray; background: white; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px"
|-
|
| style="color: #FF0000" size="3"|♥
| Romantic Interest 
| style="color: #FA70BC" size="3"|♥
| Platonic Love 
| style="color: #9EC60B" size="3"|●
| Positive 
| style="color: #8f8377" size="3"|●
| Neutral 
| style="color: #000000" size="3"|●
| Negative 
| style="color: #000000" size="3"|☠
| Deceased 
| style="color: #000000" size="3"|<b>?</b>
| Uncertain 
|
|}
</center>
----
[[File:Artoria Renaea Rounded.png|400px|left]]
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width: 68%"
|-
| width="25%" | <font style="color:#9EC60B;" size="3">●</font> '''[[A'lera Treon]]'''
| ''"A fine blacksmith and a good friend."''
|-
| colspan="2" style="text-indent: 1em;" | A'lera works as a manager at the Siren's Song, as well as a blacksmith, running a company that caters itself towards adventurers. She was responsible for Renaea's current equipment-- a lightning aspected sword, and was the one to invite Artoria to work at the Rose.
|}
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width: 68%"
|-
| width="25%" | <font style="color:#FF0000;" size="3">♥</font> '''[[Anstarra Silverain]]'''
| ''"She lives free and wild. I envy her in some respects, even as I refuse to condone her."''
|-
| colspan="2" style="text-indent: 1em;" | Artoria and Anstarra have had their differences, largely as a result of events surrounding Artoria's wife. Artoria saw Anstarra as refusing to take responsibility for her actions, an attitude that was anathema to how rigidly Artoria forced herself to behave. They have since made up, though Artoria still doesn't completely approve of Anstarra's world view.
|}
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width: 68%"
|-
| width="25%" | <font style="color:#9EC60B;" size="3">●</font> '''[[Cendreie Belle'mer]]'''
| ''"WIP"''
|-
| colspan="2" style="text-indent: 1em;" | WIP
|}
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width: 68%"
|-
| width="25%" | <font style="color:#9EC60B;" size="3">●</font> '''[[Lycheria Itazura]]'''
| ''"She learns quickly, though I worry it might not be fast enough at some points."''
|-
| colspan="2" style="text-indent: 1em;" | Artoria met Lycheria when the two were both working for House Cahernaut. Though Artoria helped teach Lycheria about swordsmanship, Lycheria's lack of aether and her idealism were both worrying points for the long-term.
|}
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width: 68%"
|-
| width="25%" | <font style="color:#9EC60B;" size="3">●</font> '''[[Nexxa Tristelle]]'''
| ''"A beautiful woman, and a good friend."''
|-
| colspan="2" style="text-indent: 1em;" | Artoria had the chance to get acquainted with Nexxa both through Renaea and A'lera. Having the chance to see Nexxa and A'lera be bonded, Artoria has nothing but the best of wishes for her two friends.
|}
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width: 68%"
|-
| width="25%" | <font style="color:#9EC60B;" size="3">●</font> '''[[Orrin Halgren]]'''
| ''"A good man, if somewhat stiff."''
|-
| colspan="2" style="text-indent: 1em;" | Artoria first met Orrin when investigating the elemental Djiin. Though they came to blows on this occasion, as Artoria came to Djiin's defense, they later reconciled when Orrin took an attack directed at Artoria's friend, A'lera.
|}
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width: 68%"
|-
| width="25%" | <font style="color:#FF0000;" size="3">♥</font> '''[[Renaea Algiernis]]'''
| ''"My light in the darkness. I wonder what may have become of me had I not met her when I did."''
|-
| colspan="2" style="text-indent: 1em;" | A girl who ran away from her noble family in Ishgard, Renaea was beset by bandits when Artoria came to her aid. Since then, the two have had a passionate romance-- though not without its troubles as the two became separated for months at a time. Recently they have reunited and wed one another.
|}
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width: 68%"
|-
| width="25%" | <font style="color:#9EC60B;" size="3">●</font> '''[[Skara'lin Tairakh]]'''
| ''"WIP."''
|-
| colspan="2" style="text-indent: 1em;" | WIP
|}
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width: 68%"
|-
| width="25%" | <font style="color:#9EC60B;" size="3">●</font> '''[[Tora Kha]]'''
| ''"WIP"''
|-
| colspan="2" style="text-indent: 1em;" | WIP
|}
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width: 68%"
|-
| width="25%" | <font style="color:#000000;" size="3">●</font> '''[[V'aleera Lhuil]]'''
| ''"A fanatic who's quick to judgement and quick to draw blade."''
|-
| colspan="2" style="text-indent: 1em;" | Artoria and V'aleera's first meeting was unfortunate in many ways. They worked jointly on a leve that saw them journey to the nearby tribe of the Vanu Vanu. V'aleera's scorn was clear, frequently referring to the Vanu Vanu as savages and denigrating their culture even as the bird-men worked to greet the group. They met the elemental Djiin, who had possessed the body a scion of House Dzemael-- and V'aleera made it clear that the scion's life was unimportant to her, she would happily kill the boy to end the elemental as well. This ended in Artoria and V'aleera coming to blows as Artoria protected the elemental.
|}
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width: 68%"
|-
| width="25%" | <font style="color:#000000;" size="3">●</font> '''[[X'ogun Ares]]'''
| ''"I will crush him and his tribe, and see them all burn until naught but ash remains."''
|-
| colspan="2" style="text-indent: 1em;" | X'ogun is one of the leaders of the Falling Stars Tribe. In expanding their power, he lured Artoria as well as several others into a trap, where he then used an Allagan device to implant a remote method of control into their minds.
|}

</div>

=Writing=
<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #708090;font-size:16px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>'''W R I T I N G'''</center></div></span></h3>

</div>
=History=
<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #727472;font-size:16px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>'''H I S T O R Y'''</center></div></span></h3> </div>

<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #91A3B0;font-size:12px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>''Early History''</center></div></span></h3>

<spoiler>
[[File:Artoria Jenneliya1 rounded.png|400px|right]]

Under Construction
</spoiler>
</div>

<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #778BA5;font-size:12px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>''Eorzea''</center></div></span></h3>

<spoiler>
[[File:Wanderpus rounded.png|300px|left]]
When Artoria awoke after the Calamity, she found herself lost and with no where to go. Her armor was little more than scraps and a trail of blood led behind her to show her path. Fortunately, Eorzea proved plentiful in opportunities for one with martial prowess, and she spent a great deal of time in Mor Dhona, helping to ward off the region's monsters as adventurers gathered to rebuild Revenant's Toll.

Since then, she has continued to work as a mercenary and adventurer, taking what work she could. This would eventually see her to joining the '''Limitless Reliquary,''' a group of relic hunters. Unfortunately, the group's activities would eventually lead them to cross paths with the Garlean Empire and they found the home they resided in destroyed. A number of the group went their separate ways, and Artoria found herself searching elsewhere. It was during this time however, that she would first meet her wife, '''Renaea Algiernis.'''

Later, she would join '''Yojimbo Trading Company,''' a company focused upon hunting monsters to sell their parts on the market. Again, she would work here for some time, and became friends with their leader, '''Claire Harte,''' but would eventually leave after Claire's death. From there, she made her way to work as a retainer for '''House Cahernaut,''' on the invitation of a friend. She persisted here for a time, but her suspicions regarding the Countess's activities, the deteriorating leadership of the House, and wanting to secure a more stable income for her wife eventually led her to resign and take up a more stable job as a member of security at '''The Velvet Rose.''' This proved short lived however, as the company came under scrutiny by the Syndicate and Artoria found herself ill at ease with a job that required little of her.

Instead, she found her way to '''The Knights of Eorzea,''' and organization that sought to benefit those who needed help the most. With them, she would participate in the Liberation of Ala Mhigo, fighting her way through soldiers and magitek in the streets of the city.

Under Construction
</spoiler>
</div>

<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #778BA5;font-size:12px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>''Starsfall''</center></div></span></h3>

<spoiler>
Recently, she has been investigating a tribe of miqo'te known as the '''Falling Stars.''' She first became involved with this tribe after accepting a leve to hunt down one of their rogue hunters, the Fallen known as '''X'kirra Ares.''' Upon defeating her, she and the others in her group received an invitation to visit the Sept.

However, this invitation turned out to be a trap. As Artoria's group made their way into the frozen wastes that the Falling Stars called home, they were ambushed by huntresses of the Falling Stars. Betrayed and captured, the Falling Stars used a strange Allagan device to overwrite their memories and implant commands into their mind to be carried out at a later date.

Though the incident had been wiped from her mind, it didn't quell her suspicions of the tribe, and Artoria soon found herself working alongside an Ishgardian Inquisitor to question a man who had apparently been brainwashed. Their interrogation was interrupted by a mysterious figure known as Lord Chagrin. The defenders managed to drive off Lord Chagrin and save their prisoner's life, discovering that Lord Chagrin was in truth '''Orrin Halgren,''' who had been similarly mindcontrolled into being a puppet of the Falling Stars.

Fortunately, Orrin by fortuitous chance was freed from his control. He went on to fashion a counter to the so-called Spear of Destiny that had controlled Artoria and others and proceeded to free all those controlled by the Tribe. With news of the Nunh's plan to make himself into a pseudo-Primal, the group launched an attack at the location known as '''The Crucible,''' the place where the Falling Stars created their greatest warriors. With this distraction, another group would pursue a way with which to weaken the Nunh.
</spoiler>
</div>
<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #778BA5;font-size:12px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>''Primevil''</center></div></span></h3>

<spoiler>
Artoria has also been busy investigating a series of incidents involving what appear to be elemental spirits escaping Allagan confinement. Her first encounter was in Mor Dhona, working with the Sons of Saint Coinach. A recent earthquake had opened a cave near the Crystal Tower and the Sons had sent in a research team only for none to return. Upon delving into the cave, Artoria and the group with her found that one of the researchers had been possessed by spirit that named itself, '''Shaitan,''' with strong influence over Earth aspected magic. Shaitan declared his intentions to destroy the legacy of Allag, including those currently living in Eorzea today, and the group engaged him. Though they managed to injure the elemental, Shaitan fled before they could slay him.

However, Shaitan was not the only one to awake. Other groups found '''Efreeti,''' a fire aspect having taken the position of Nunh of a Miqo'te tribe, and '''Marid,''' a water aspect who had taken a lalafell and now led a group of Sahagin. Artoria's next encounter however, would be with '''Djiin.'''

Though Djiin did not pose the overt threat that Shaitan did, he had possessed the body of a scion of House Dzemael in order to manifest. The two dragoons who had traveled with her would not allow this, and soon attacked Djiin, with Artoria standing against them in Djiin's defense. She was not enough to protect him however, and a thrust from '''V'aleera Lhuil''' pierced through the boy's body-- and sent a strange disc tumbling into the Sea of Clouds. Though she searched for the disk, she was unable to find it.

By strange chance however, a leve taken in the Fringes led her to discovering '''Jotun,''' and ice aspected elemental who had made the region his home. They conversed for a time, and Jotun revealed that many had come to challenge him over the years, but even if one would defeat him, he would then simply take the body of the victor as his own. Artoria and her group eventually left without major hostilities.

From there, she later took another leve escorting a man in Yanxia to meet the great sage, '''Raijin.''' He too was an elemental, lightning aspected, who would pass himself down from master to apprentice, each new sage inheriting the knowledge of the previous as Raijin took a new body. The group conversed with Raijin for a time and discovered that at one time all the elementals had been placed in a single body, and the strongest willed of the would take control should it happen once again.

Meanwhile, Efreeti's eternal party continued in the desert, though the Miqo'te that he had dominated grew tired as his rule continued to drain their resources. Shaitan came to confront Efreeti, to recruit the fire elemental to his destructive cause, only to be turned away.
</spoiler>
</div>
<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #778BA5;font-size:12px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>''Bloodmoon''</center></div></span></h3>

<spoiler>
When a patrol of members of the Ala Mhigan Resistance went missing, Artoria was one of the adventurers who were swift to respond. In their search, they found a Garlean patrol that had been wiped out, and men crucified in the woods. Strange, hollow wolves prowled the mists, and a miqo'te who showed himself capable of changing his form, a Skinwalker, was brought down. Though the enemy was felled, Artoria and those with her soon found a mysterious tattoo had appeared on the back of their hands, a red crescent moon.
</spoiler>
</div>

=Gallery=
<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #C9C0BB;font-size:16px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>'''G A L L E R Y'''</center></div></span></h3>
<table style="position:center;" width="75%">

<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #ACACAC;font-size:16px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>'''S C R E E N S H O T S'''</center></div></span></h3>
<table style="position:center;" width="75%">

<center>
<gallery>
File:Artoria Screenshot 1.png
File:Artoria Screenshot 2.png
File:Artoria Screenshot 3.png

</gallery>
</center>

<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #848482;font-size:16px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>'''A R T'''</center></div></span></h3>
<table style="position:center;" width="75%">
<center>
<gallery>
File:Artoria commission small.png|Art by Soranamae
File:Altericon_rounded.png
File:Artoria Sword.jpg
File:Artoria Circle.png|Art by Yumememoria
File:Artoria Renaea Rounded.png|Art by Etroveria
File:Artoria Jenneliya1.jpg|Art by Jenneliya
File:Wanderpus Artoria 1.jpg|Art by Wanderpus
</gallery>
</center>

</table>
</div>

=OOC=
<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #C9C0BB;font-size:16px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>'''M I S C E L L A N E O U S'''</center></div></span></h3>
<table style="position:center;" width="75%">

This wiki page contains details about Artoria's past, especially in the History section. Some of it may be discovered by those who actively seek it out, but much of it is not generally known. General and Behavior information are free for any observant character to play off of, and the same goes for the Rumors. History is purely there for OOC knowledge and is to help with plot development with those I am involved in a storyline with. Same goes for Recent Events, Relationships, and all the stories in the Written Works section. If you are interested in taking part, please let me know! And this page will be edited intermittently.

<div style="font: 16px Times New Roman, serif;">
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #C9C0BB;font-size:16px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;"><center>'''A N N O T A T I O N S'''</center></div></span></h3>
<table style="position:center;" width="75%">

:*This Template was put together with a lot of inspiration from the wiki of [[Roen Deneith]].
<headertabs/>

[[category:Player Character]] [[category: Au Ra]] [[category: Balmung]]

Virara Wakuwa

2017-01-17T05:33:04Z

Anstarra: Rumor!

<div align=center><div style="font-size:55px;letter-spacing:0.2em;color:#6C59AB;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 5px silver">Virara Wakuwa</div></div>
<div align=center><div style="font-size:15px;letter-spacing:0.75em;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 5px silver">✿ Scattering Apricot Blossoms ✿</div></div>
<br>
<div align=center>[[File:Virarahorizon.png]]</div>
<div align=center><table style="position:center;" width="60%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 20px; font-size:20px;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 5px silver;letter-spacing:0.1em;"><center><font style="color:#6e6365;">'''Work in Progress!'''</font> </center></div></span></h3>
</tr></table></div>
<div align=center><table style="position:center;" width="60%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #AAA2CB;font-size:14px;color:#e6d7da;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;letter-spacing:0.15em;"><center>'''VITAL INFORMATION'''</center></div></span></h3>
<br>
<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''BIRTH NAME'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;">Virara</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''RACE'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;">Plainsfolk Lalafell</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''GENDER'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;">Female</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''NATIONALITY'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;">None (Doma in Exile)</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''AGE & NAMEDAY'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;">18-19, Unknown</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''ORIENTATION'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;padding:0px 5px;">Indeterminate</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''MARITAL STATUS'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;padding:0px 5px;">Single</font>

<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #9999C5;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black;letter-spacing:0.15em;"><center>'''OTHER STATISTICS'''</center></div></span></h3>
<br>
<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''OCCUPATION'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;">Vagrant, Laborer</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''CURRENT RESIDENCE'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;">Neverfar's Tavern, Mist</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''HEIGHT & WEIGHT'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;">3 fulm, 7 ilm, 52 ponze</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''BUILD'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;">Toned, slim (For a Lala)</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''Guardian'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;">Llymlaen</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''ALIGNMENT'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;padding:0px 5px;">Chaotic Neutral</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#CE9BD7;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">✿</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''TRUE NAME'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;">Unknown</font>
</tr></table></div>

=Character=
<div align=center><div style="padding:10px 0px; background: #8D8ABF;font-size:16px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px black">'''A P P E A R A N C E'''</div></div>
<div align=center>[[File:Viraratides.png]]</div>
<div align=justify><div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#585350;font-family:Georgia;">At a glance, one would typically first notice her height. Still growing and scarcely more than a few inches away from 4', Virara marks among the tallest and leanest of her species. While easily lost in a crowd of mixed Spoken, she carries a statuesque impression among other Lalafell. Raven hair, dyed haphazardly to resemble Doman black, done up in pigtails frames a round, immaculate face disinclined to expression. Her skin carries the healthy flush of frequent exertion, and her body bears many faded scars, mostly upon the arms and trunk, forgotten marks left by an endless cycle of training and hardship. Compared to other Lalafell, Virara's ears are rather smallish and soft to the touch. Her enigmatic looks lend her a unapproachable air that diverges sharply from the gregarious and welcoming nature of her kin. Her stride is long (relatively speaking) and stable, her posture firm, as befitting a seasoned martial artist. Not a single breath is out of place, no unnecessary movements are made. When idle she becomes so still as to be easily mistaken for a doll, her breathing and blinking the only trace of life. Virara has a demeanor of severity so intense that despite her size, the sheer 'wrongness' inherent in her presence can be oppressive enough to elicit fear.

Her eyes are an asymmetrical red, similar in shade to ruby. Virara's left eye appears slightly brighter than the right; this is due to partial paralysis of the iris, which is permanently dilated due to an old injury. The eye is frozen permanently in a withering, bestial glare, but few, if any, ever observe this characteristic, for the girl refuses to be seen by anyone without her characteristic eye patch. Virara's visible eye is rarely much more inviting. Sharp and glistening with unspoken intent, Virara's transfixing eye struggles to contain an undercurrent of invisible energy. At times it is dull and muted like brackish water. At times it is hungry like the eye of a jackal. Set in a flat affect that seldom changes, that eye is the only point of escape for what fugitive traces of emotion lie prisoner within Virara's eternal stoicism.

Virara's voice rarely raises above a murmur or whisper, displaying a breathy, soft tone that is easy on the ears and even more easily overlooked. However that same voice is capable of monstrous force when yelling, far out of proportion to her size.
</div></div>
<div align=center><table style="position:center;" width="90%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3>
<div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #9999C5;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''L I K E S'''</center></div></h3>

: <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#8f827a;" size="3">■</font> '''Master'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#8f827a;" size="3">■</font> '''Food'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#8f827a;" size="3">■</font> '''Martial Arts'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#8f827a;" size="3">■</font> '''High Places'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#8f827a;" size="3">■</font> '''Bugs'''</div>

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #AAA2CB;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''D I S L I K E S'''</center></div></span></h3>

: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Master'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Patronization'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Introspection'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Cowardice'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Her Height'''</div>

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #AA99C5;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''F E A R S'''</center></div></span></h3>

: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Master'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Hurricanes'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Being Bound'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Ghosts (Minor)'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Bald People (Minor)'''</div>

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<div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #9999C5;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''S T R E N G T H S'''</center></div></h3>

: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Uncanny Strength'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Talented Fighter'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Determined'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Perceptive'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Diligent'''</div>

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<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #AAA2CB;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''W E A K N E S S E S'''</center></div></span></h3>

: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Aetheric Incapability'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Emotional Dependency'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Stubborn'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Wrathful'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Insensitive'''</div>

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<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #AA99C5;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''Q U I R K S'''</center></div></span></h3>

: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Hyper-metabolism'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Unnerving Atmosphere'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Cultural Ignorance'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Taste for Spiciness'''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#abb09d;" size="3">■</font> '''Horrible Singer'''</div>

</tr></table></div>
<br>

<div align=center><div style="padding:10px 0px; background: #8D8ABF;font-size:16px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px black">'''P E R S O N A L I T Y'''</div></div>
<div align=center>[[File:Viraralookingdown.png]]</div>
<div align=justify><div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#585350;font-family:Georgia;">
A girl apart from any culture, whether it is the Doman Far Eastern one she was raised in, that of Eorzea, Hyur or her own kin, Virara is a perpetual foreigner. At times the sharp hunger within her endless glaring is more Beastkin than Spoken, and her wired, tense posture always seems one step away from pouncing. Even at her most placid moments, Virara is fervently alive, a dynamic energy circulating beneath her tranquil surface.

Virara's first language was force. Having communicated through her fists since she was old enough to walk, a lifetime of hardship has left Vira a profoundly stunted, socially incomplete being. Unable to read the mood, explosively brusque, and prone to indiscreet staring, Virara blunders her way through conversation with the grace of an Aurochs. Outwardly at least, this doesn't weigh heavily upon the girl. Others are not necessary. Her Master is the only human connection she's truly been able to enjoy for any length of time, and between them lies a nebulous morass of blind worship and murderous animosity. Perhaps because of this chaotic river of sentiments, Virara seeks to distill all emotions into an indistinct, uniform fuel. Growing up, feelings were merely a burnable resource, consumed to lend strength to her blows. Precisely what she felt was never a question to her, but rather how hard she felt it.

It is never certain whether Virara is truly capable of, or merely imitating, sentiments like compassion or love. Such feelings were in low demand for most of her years, and they perplex and irritate her in their complexity. When she finds herself thinking to an unnecessary degree, Virara always seeks to simplify the process to stimulus and reaction, the fabled paradise of the "no-mind" state of <i>mushin</i> sought by many martial artists in its myriad forms and names. However, this intense focus can lead to inflexibility and obstinence. Combined with her general social ignorance and almost child-like curiosity, Virara can give the impression of being quite dull.

Though she is trained to exercise an exacting, machine-like level of self control, one look at the black thirst radiating from her visage in combat speaks more than she has in her entire sentient life. To pursue the path of the fist is to exist, to think, to breathe; all else is vanity, an illusion meant to lead the student astray. The Master's teachings are absolute. Yet even after being 'civilized,' a feral undercurrent courses deep within her, whether calm or galvanized. She hungers both literally and figuratively, seeking new stimuli to reject again and again as "vulgar," her term for knowledge not passed down from the immaculate being and absolute foe that is her Master. Despite the negative appellation, she seems to appreciate utility in all its forms; it's simply a denotation of the difference between infallible truth and fallible principle, to Virara.

Virara is courageous to such an extreme that one could be forgiven for thinking she has forgotten her own mortality, but she is shrewd rather than brash, and often is merely redirecting fear into action. Still, she loses her nerve when it comes to supernatural things (Because she is too much of a materialist and fears ghosts which she cannot punch.) and typhoon/hurricane weather. (A faint memory from before her childhood on the Necklace.) Her overly literal and realist way of thinking also makes her more or less a complete dunce when it comes to the magic arts.</div></div>

=Abilities=
<div align=center><div style="padding:10px 0%; background: #8D8ABF;font-size:16px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px black">'''C O M B A T'''</div></div>
<div align=center>[[File:Virarakotsukotoshin.png]]</div>
<div align=center><div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#585350;font-family:Georgia;">Virara's first language was the fist. Trained by both the predators of the wild and a "monster" whose path is littered with over a thousand corpses, to judge her by her size is to court instant death.</div></div>
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<div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #9999C5;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''P H Y S I C A L'''</center></div></h3>
<div align=justify><div style="padding:5px 15px;font-family:Georgia;">
::Packed inside the tiny body of this Lalafell is unusually dense, plentiful muscle. With her wiry frame and toned trunk, Virara's strength far exceeds that of the typical member of her race. With training, her natural agility and stamina too have risen beyond the expected. Though she cannot compare to the sustained physical exertion of a larger race such as a particularly hale Hyur or a Roegadyn, in short bursts Virara is capable of generating incredible explosive muscle power. Power enough to shatter bone, wood, stone, or even tempered armor.

::It is not known from where her unnatural power originates. Perhaps something 'broke' within her from struggling to survive at such a young age, leaving her with no ability to naturally limit her strength. Some suggest she is a mutt, with anything from Roegadyn to Gigas blood in her veins, somehow. A particularly outlandish suggestion was once made that she is a Garlean Magiteck experiment wearing borrowed flesh. Often the unpleasant word "freak" is involved.

::Alarmingly, Virara's strength seems to increase to even greater levels if enraged enough, or if exposed to outside aether; her body tenses, her skin flushes, and her breath becomes so hot it visibly steams. Virara's abnormal height combines the strengths of being a small target, common to her race, with enough reach to strike the vitals of larger species. Her limbs are longer than that of others of her kind, granting her at least some extra striking range, though it is still paltry in comparison to the lankier species. In addition to this, her already impressive constitution, honed by years of survival and borderline sadistic training, gives her great fortitude, even against poisons, but she still does not have the body mass to resist for long. Her master made a habit of lacing her meals with deadly compounds as a child, building some resistance to common toxins.

::Virara suffers regularly from sores, muscle cramps and pain in her hands from constant training. Her skeletal structure endures incredible stress. Sometimes it is hard to imagine how she manages to stay in one piece, but she soldiers on without complaint. This disproportionate power defies reason, and witnessing it at times feels like feverish dreams apart from sanity. It engenders awe in some, particularly those close to her. Pity in others, who know how much she had to burn away to achieve such heights. And in at least a few, a twisted fascination...</div></div>

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<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #AAA2CB;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''M A G I C A L'''</center></div></span></h3>
<div align=justify><div style="padding:5px 15px;font-family:Georgia;">
::As weak in magic as she is powerful physically, Virara is utterly unable to manipulate aether in any form or shape. It seems that the faint, minute traces of aether that does circulate deep within her tissues is completely given over to some chaotic process, flowing freely and erratically through her flesh at seemingly random. Virara is so incapable of aether use that she cannot use an aetheryte without the aid of others nearby, and even when used successfully, suffers considerable discomfort and may teleport a short distance away or even into the air.

::Virara is keenly aware of this weakness, and seems to be working to mitigate it, but even were she to somehow overcome this apparent physical and mental block it is unlikely she'd ever make more than an unremarkable mage. Her understanding of magical offense and defense is poor as well, and is an area Virara seeks to study harder. In addition, Virara's resistance to outside aether makes healing her with common spells difficult, and, given careless over-application of healing aether, may worsen her condition to the point of steaming hot feverishness and convulsions. Lack of aetheric sensitivity means that Virara struggles to detect traces of magic in her environment, even when her intuition tells her something is wrong.

::The strange trickling of aether throughout her body intensifies when she exerts herself, and yet somehow does not seem to originate from her barren shell of a body. It could be that Virara did once have aetheric potential, but whatever she possessed is all accounted for now, constantly circulating in use somehow. The leaky faucet that couldn't be fixed. She has begun training with a Fist of Rhalgr to stem the primordial chaos within, but she is already racing rapidly to her limit, more inferno than warm hearth.</div></div>

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #AA99C5;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''T E C H N I Q U E'''</center></div></span></h3>
<div align=justify><div style="padding:5px 15px;font-family:Georgia;">
::Virara is trained in a virtually unknown fighting style from Othard: "Shichisei Meikyuuken," or Seven Stars Labyrinth Fist. It differs from the typical Aldenard pugilism forms by shying away from rapid waves of successive strikes and focusing instead on killing in a single hit. It emphasizes stability, powerful core muscles, deflection and redirection of enemy attacks, and explosive, direct blows to the enemy's vitals along the body's center line. It draws strength from spinal compression, and abdominal and leg muscles, which coincidentally, Lalafell may posses in excess, given their impressive jumping height.

::Virara tends to be direct and brusque. A straightforward style fits her, despite its name, but it is rumored to incorporate elements from many different forms of martial arts across Othard, and thus cultivates a subtle complexity. It is stable and calm in outward attitude, yet possesses rapacious speed. Its linear motions incorporate hidden fluctuations in velocity and angle that betray the opponent's sense of spacing and hobble their footwork. Its guards are flowing parries that transition unpredictably into fatal strikes. It is a merciless style intended more for killing an unaware victim or an ignorant combatant before they are able to discern the nature of the labyrinth. This betrays its true nature as an assassination style. Despite all this, it is a "hard" martial art, with little attention paid to manipulating Chakra compared to the vaunted Fist of Rhalgr, which should make it objectively weaker. That did little to stop Virara's Master from becoming one of the most deadly fighters in existence. The labyrinth's exit remains undiscovered.

::As practiced as Virara is, she is still a learner, and her combat experience doesn't compare to that a of a veteran. She tends to adhere zealously to whatever Master taught her, even to the point of inflexibility. Although much craftier than she initially appears, Virara is a reductionist with an unfortunate tendency to favor the most direct, most simple approach. She is not without a faint sense of pride either, as while in a formal duel Virara will generally avoid underhanded tactics, she will stoop as low as a Lalafell can to survive in a real combat situation. Without the influence of her recent acquaintances, she would never hesitate. That she is able to make as strong a showing regardless speaks volumes of the incomprehensible terror her Master embodies.

::With training, Virara's strength continues to grow, spiraling outward from some primordial darkness at her core. She has always been hated by animals, but recently some wild beasts will avoid her or grow hostile at her approach. Her Master, who claimed her fists were 'The King and Queen of Beasts," was rumored to suffer from a similar, almost supernatural condition. Although it pales in comparison to her Master's supposedly incredible ''sakki'' ('Murderous intent'), Virara's intense hostility seems so potent as to imbue a particularly murderous glare from her with a subtle form of unconscious hypnotism. The principle is similar to that of many species of basilisk, inducing paralytic shock in the nervous system of an onlooker, but the actual mechanism behind its effects is unknown. </div></div>

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<br>
<div align=center><div style="padding:10px 0%; background: #8D8ABF;font-size:16px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px black">'''S K I L L S'''</div></div>
<div align=center>[[File:Viraraglance.png]]</div>
<div align=center><div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#585350;font-family:Georgia;">Her monomaniacal focus on training has allowed what few peaceful skills Virara possesses to atrophy, but she's diligent if little else. If only she could stop breaking things...</div></div>
<div align=center><table style="position:center;" width="90%">
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<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3>
<div style="padding:10px 35px;background: #9999C5;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''C O O K I N G'''</center></div></h3>
<div align=justify><div style="padding:5px 15px;font-family:Georgia;">
::Virara has an incredible metabolism. At times, she seems perpetually hungry, and at any given moment likely has a secret stash of preserved fruits, jerky and other easily kept snacks on her person. Keeping her developing appetite sated wasn't a task for any one person, especially one as given to sloth as her Master, so she gave Virara a perfunctory course on how to prepare meals. Less time spent helping feed her pupil meant more time at the gambling shack or in the bath.

::Possessing almost no useful cooking utensils, Virara first learned to cook with whatever she had on hand and brute force, to put it delicately. Using her bare hands whenever possible and sometimes her head, at least Virara is often clean enough to not present much health hazard. Truly no chef has ever yelled so loudly when tenderizing meat. Perhaps it is her barbaric palate that led her to seek out the spiciest possible flavor regardless of what she cooks... Even dessert. Some instruction from Chuchukepa Hohokepa and watching Zaius Rhalseer at work has helped normalize Virara's unique culinary methods. The Quicksand was substantially less forgiving, and the culinarians guild at the Bismarck did not even give her the dignity of a single glance. Either way, here is the culinary 'talent' that demanded so many replacement plates, pans and utensils from her free company acquaintance Jajara Jara.</div></div>

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #AAA2CB;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''G A T H E R I N G'''</center></div></span></h3>
<div align=justify><div style="padding:5px 15px;font-family:Georgia;">
::The Necklace is a harsh place, despite all appearances, a dense tropical jungle studded with hard rock and strangled with vines. In the early years before Doman refugees came flooding to its shores in successive waves, the young Virara sustained herself gathering fruits and nuts and killing small animals for sustenance, as if she was hardwired to do so from birth. Though luck had much to do with it, she managed to at least eke out a wretched existence for a few years. She let these skills go to rot after she found readied food could be more easily obtained by harassing and stealing from the Domans.

::The time spent in captivity under her future Master did little to reverse the decay. It was not until her Master insisted she help feed herself that Virara learned to fish, and again, only with her bare hands. Her most proud moment is catching a shark with her bare hands, though to other races it was a modest specimen. In the end, the fishing training was more a method to condition Virara's reflexes and endurance than anything else. These skills, however, translate poorly to rod fishing, and she is not familiar enough with the flora and fauna of Eorzea to do much with her old hunting and gathering skills.</div></div>

<td style="vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #AA99C5;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''O T H E R'''</center></div></span></h3>
<div align=justify><div style="padding:5px 15px;font-family:Georgia;">
::Due to much time spent laboring for her Master, from dusk to dawn and always without thanks, Virara endures menial and backbreaking work without complaint. She's been employed as an extra hand at the Quicksand and Bismarck, though largely to keep her out of the kitchen, and aided with tasks aboard the vessel that brought her to Eorzea for pocket change. As a diligent student, she is a voracious learner that picks up new knowledge rapidly, so long as it is presented in a straightforward manner, though her inability to use aether cripples her in many Eorzean professions.

::Virara, being aware of how to survive on her own, has a keen sense of direction and is highly observant, and can usually fare for herself well enough for a short while in the wild, even with her dilapidated gathering skills. In addition, Virara possesses an unexpected talent: bonsai tending, the only skill in which she is her Master's better.

::Never make Virara sing or act. These are skills she did not inherit from her Master, and they are atrocious indeed.</div></div>

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=Interactions=
<div align=center><div style="padding:10px 0%; background: #8D8ABF;font-size:16px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px black">'''I N T E R A C T I O N S'''</div></div>
<table style="position:center;" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #AAA2CB;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''R U M O R S'''</center></div></span></h3>

<div align=center><div style="font-family:Georgia;">These rumors do not necessarily need to be accurate, or even true. They are rumors, after all~! Use with care.</div></div>

<div style="border:0px solid; padding:8px;">
<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #CEB7F5; color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ Common Rumors - </b>''Easily overheard.''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "Aye, that one-eyed Lala? Biggest one Oi've ever seen, she wus. Bloody near bought me ou've Dodo skewers, she did! 'Er craw 'n stomach were sommat else, Oi tell ye... Methinks a portal to the void..." - Lominsan Grill Stand Proprietor</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "A Lalafell who wears an eyepatch?... S-sorry. I know of no such person. Please excuse me, I must get back to work. - Crippled Doman Fisher</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "I remember a girl like that, practicin' some sorta dance what them Mighans play 'cept diff'ren, top the city wall. Even from far 'way, I could tell. Didn't like the look 'o that one. Ain't many Popotos that shady, or hungry. - Platinum Mirage Strongman</div>

<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #C3ADE7; color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ Uncommon Rumors -</b> ''A little more difficult to hear.''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "Ah, I remember her. She came to the guild, asking for information on a customer of mine. That look in her eye... it troubled me so much, I nearly refused her. I am glad I didn't, but for why I cannot say..." - Lominsan Fishmonger</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "The purple girl brings great bags of food for us to the priest! But she's a bit scary... She reminds me of home. I'd rather she not look at me..." - Orphan With Two Missing Teeth</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "Yeah, I know her. She's the one who enrolled in th' guild just to challenge Ol' Hamon. He jus' laughed her off and told her to run about Ul'dah doing this chore and that job... Ain't too bright, that one." - Pugilists Guild Member</div>

<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #B09CD0; color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ Rare Rumors -</b> ''Very rarely overheard.''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "I saw it... a hunched old man followed her home one day. She kept looking over her shoulder, but he shifted just out of view... The way he moved made my skin crawl... Just who is she? Who was that man?" - Yellow Jacket Officer</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "Oi! I know her! Ye, that girl fought [[Sounsyy Mirke|Mirke]] in the first round of the Grindstone some time ago and lost after a right slugfest... But that same girl, I hear, shattered the packed earth for yalms 'round a month before fightin' some Lala boy in heavy armor... Her yells went much further..." - Ul'dahn Adventurer</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "I've seen that stance. It is heresy. Let us not speak of it." - Doman Veteran</div>

<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #A490C4; color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ Player Character Rumors -</b> ''Feel free to add rumors of your own!''</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "There's something more to her than she's letting on. She seems to feel might makes right. Perhaps in time she can be made to see it is the other way around." - [[Warren Castille]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "Ms. Virara's strong, there's no doubt 'bout that! I mean, a punch that can shatter armor!? I jus'... I jus' hope that she can learn ta use that strength ta halp ''others'', rather than just herself." -- [[Chachanji Gegenji]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "There's somethin' about her... I dunno. Kinda unsettlin'. But don'cha go an' tell 'er I said that! She's got enough t'worry about besides what Aunti-- wait. Lemme ask ya somethin'. Do I look that old to ya...? Be honest." -- [[Jajara Jara]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "I care about her greatly. Very much so. We see eye-to-eye and heart-to-heart. Simply must needs to hear it. Pray echo that to her. Every time you see her. Every time." -- [[Jancis Milburga]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "Many time I think we are same. Some things we like together. We not need city people ways. But then she talk about Master person. I remember we are maybe not same. Master is how she know. Desert is how I know. Master ways are sad. I want know Vira ways. Maybe after she will know love too." -- [[Flickering Ember]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "Ser Chachanji's friend, yes? Strikes me as the spunky sort, for some reason. I'd like to fight her too." -- [[Jana Ridah]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "I am not sure if she has an innate propensity for causing trouble, or if it is merely Memeli rubbing off on her… I do worry for her – the next time she decides to attempt to uproot a table from the ground, she may not be in the presence of those who… understand." -- [[Edda Eglantine]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "Nyoo? Virarara? She's super tough and super cute! Nyahaha! Got plenty of that HOT-BLOODED YOUTHFUL SPIRIT! Gets so fired up that she's smokin'! ...Really, where does that steam come from?." -- [[Memeli Meli]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "She may be small, but she packs a punch that could knock men twenty times her size off their feet. I wouldn't mind having her at my side in a fight. Her way of handling emotions is strange though - at least to me. I can't help but feel that there's much more to her than meets the eye." -- [[Tiergan Vashir]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "She's really big, and very tough-looking! But she's a little strange, too, like she's not sure how emotions work. I'm also pretty sure she doesn't know my name, just my eyebrows." -- [[Shoshopu Shopu]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "From what little I know of her, she seems honest, if not a bit severe. Perhaps it is her foreign nature, for which I would never begrudge someone." -- [[Roen Deneith]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "I like her. She's so ''straight'' about everything. Takes everything literally and speaks her mind without shame. She's unintentionally funny-- but intentionally deadly. I've never met a more intense Lalafell in my life." -- [[Eaubront Shopont]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "She was a big help with Chachanji and I. I do not think we would have ever stopped the Ruby without her." -- [[Jancis Milburga]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "A strange small Outsider, she enjoys being fed. Like a wayward kitten, as just as dangerous." -- [[X'cinna Ares]]</div>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#44413f;" size="2">■</font> "I see in her something... I could have turned out like her, I think, with that Master she does not like speaking of. I feel for her, but don't know how to help her, so the least I can do is respect her. She's reliable when serving on the Bitch, and good to have in a scrap." -- [[Anstarra Silverain]]</div>
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<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #9999C5;font-size:14px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''R E L A T I O N S'''</center></div></span></h3>
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! <div align="center"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''Color Key'''</font></div>
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Note: Sorry to those who don't have a wiki profile yet. If I added everyone my character new, this list would be endless, so my rule is to only add PC who have a page themselves.
:<font style="color:#B656ED;" size="3">  ♥</font> <sub><b>Romantic:</b> A budding, nebulous emotion that she knows poorly.</sub>
:<font style="color:#CE9BD7;" size="3">  ♥</font> <sub><b>Friendly:</b> A desire to be near, though sometimes through crossed fists.</sub>
:<font style="color:#8A6ECB;" size="3">  ♥</font> <sub><b>Familial:</b> The unfamiliar warmth of a blood bond, once denied.</sub>

:<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> <sub><b>Good:</b> A positive impression, perhaps wise, perhaps strong.</sub>
:<font style="color:#898b8c;" size="3">  ●</font> <sub><b>Neutral:</b> No strong feelings in particular, or too many confused ones.</sub>
:<font style="color:#952e2e;" size="3">  ●</font> <sub><b>Negative:</b> A noticeable animosity, beyond the usual cold shoulder.</sub>

:<font style="color:#242421;" size="3">  ●</font> <sub><b>Sworn Enemy:</b> A desire to kill, pure and uncompromising.</sub>
:<font style="color:#242421;" size="3">  ♠</font> <sub><b>Deceased:</b> Dead, or considered as such to her.</sub>
:<font style="color:#C51567;" size="3">  ♥</font> <sub><b>Obsession:</b> Bond that transcends love and hate.</sub>

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<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #B2A7E6;font-size:14px;color:#eeeeee;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''R E L A T I O N S (NPC)'''</center></div>

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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''UNKNOWN'''</font> '''(''' <font style="color:#C51567;" size="3">♥</font><font style="color:#CE9BD7;" size="3">  ♥</font><font style="color:#8A6ECB;" size="3">  ♥</font><font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font><font style="color:#242421;" size="3">  ●</font><font style="color:#952e2e;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Sensei'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">A notorious manslayer from Doma, whose shadowy exploits and wanton atrocities during the country's ill-fated rebellion were innumerable. Everything Virara says about this enigma suggests a martial artist of such transcendental skill that only the term 'monster' could properly describe her. Amid monks and pugilists, she is a pariah that stands truly alone. For years Virara's only window into civilization was Master. She owes everything that she is to her. Murky, undefined feelings flow through Virara towards Master, stronger than anything she knows, but in truth they are neither friends, nor family. Since the day they met Virara has been determined to kill her, and when she thinks of Master, a horrifying blood lust overflows from within her. The backbone of Virara's world is her equal animosity and admiration for this enigmatic woman, but both sentiments are far from understanding.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''Tsuchigumo'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#242421;" size="3">  ●</font><font style="color:#952e2e;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Enemy'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">An assailant wearing 'Okina' the Laughing Old Man mask in Noh theater. It is uncertain whether Tsuchigumo is male, female, or even a person rather than monster or voidsent, but its animosity and murderous lust are all too apparent. It seeks to procure 'the pig' for slaughter, but after a disastrous first encounter, Virara is determined on pain of madness to never let that happen. A master of acrobatics, it has joints that flex in ways a contortionist would cringe at and a mastery of tetsugen, metal wire. It displayed an inability to speak using its own words, "borrowing" the phrases and body language of those it observes, and an almost childish fascination with simple distractions such as bright, flashing lights. Virara's allies took its arm, but it managed to slink away, and a second confrontation is inevitable.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''Masked Man'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#242421;" size="3">  ●</font><font style="color:#952e2e;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Enemy'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">One of Gogonji Gegenji's Khamja, a hired killer wearing 'Hanya,' the Horned Demon mask. He was referred to as "Kirin" by his ally, meeting Virara in battle beneath The Shroud. A young man who appears to have real horns and a thick tail, he is likely Au Ra, but other than his unmotivated disregard for his employer, nothing is known for certain. A skilled martial artist, he favors kicking heavily. He carries himself with a brash, terse demeanor, and refused to fight his utmost against Virara and a party of friends including Jancis and Jajara, instead unleashing trained war hounds upon them. He stated that for Doma, no amount of blood spilt would ever truly be wasted, but his words and actions do not seem to match up.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''Masked Woman'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#242421;" size="3">  ●</font><font style="color:#952e2e;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Enemy'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">One of Gogonji Gegenji's Khamja, a hired killer wearing 'Fukai,' the Grieving Widow mask. As a last line of defense before Anunu and Gogonji, she was hired to obstruct those who would stop Khamja's attack on an Imperial Castrum, as part of a false flag operation meant to thrust the city states into open war with Garlemald. She spoke in an odd rhythm and referred to Kirin as an 'upstart,' suggesting some degree of personal animosity between them. Although claiming to be a rebel for the cause of lost Doma, she also acknowledged it as "mere pretense" upon being pressed. She fights with a poisoned metal chain whip, but the lackluster effort mirrors Kirin's. Like him she abandoned Gogonji to his fate gladly and with no sign of remorse. Neither she nor Kirin seem to have much interest in Virara personally, unlike Tsuchigumo.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''Bozu (Priest)'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#898b8c;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Stranger'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">A self-proclaimed "Emptiness Monk," this enigmatic Hellsguard, who wears a sedge basket upon his head, advised Virara on her training journey to the Sea of Clouds. He has an odd, absent-minded demeanor and a generally friendly disposition, supposedly running an orphanage for refugees in Mor Dhona. His open mind and listening ear are typical of Doman errant monks. Those scars he bears, many of them appearing to be from near-fatal injuries, are not. A practitioner of an odd faith that claims to do away with the "illusions of the world," he is by choice blind even when he removes his basket. He also seems to be an expert of an equally odd method of aetheric manipulation, utilizing a bell and a bizarre golden compass and board. Virara asked him to keep her whereabouts secret, and to perhaps teach her the methods of his art, but being a man of extremes, he honored her words so severely that he confronted several pursuers trying to abduct Virara and bring her home to the Still Shore and fell to his death as a result. Yet just as mysteriously as he appeared, Bozu returned again to meet Virara and her friends at his tiny orphanage in Mor Dhona. Who or what is this man? How did he survive the pluge at the Sea of Clouds?</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''Chanu Vanu and Samo Vanu'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#898b8c;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''The 'Tengu''''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">A pair of eccentric pariah Vanu who were abandoned by the Vundu tribe among the ruins of a recently vacated Garlean encampment. Iconoclasts with little respect for their tribe or any other, their hunger for knowledge drives an endless fascination with Garlean junk. On a training expedition in the Sea of Clouds, Virara discovered the odd pair rooting about in the wreckage of a Magitech Reaper. The two proved formidable martial artists and fought her to a standstill, with the lanky Chanu being a master of improvised weapons, and Samo a virtuoso of agility despite his near-spherical bulk. Although they mutually despised 'netherlings,' the two made an exception for Virara on account of her disinterest in their so-called-treasure. On the condition that they be allowed to eat her corpse if the training proved fatal, the two agreed to impart knowledge to her without technically assuming the role of Master, which Virara would not permit. Chanu and Samo observed the slaying of the sky Primal Bismarck, and the great battle between a certain mysterious figure and the Garleans near Azys Lla. They gleaned insight on fighting techniques from observing the Ishgardian dragoons, though their bootleg facsimile techniques are incomplete. Chanu is gluttonous and slothful, while Samo is pugnacious and miserly. The two bicker constantly and do not technically consider one another friends.</div>
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<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #A096D2;font-size:14px;color:#eeeeee;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''R E L A T I O N S (PC)'''</center></div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Chachanji Gegenji]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#CE9BD7;" size="3">  ♥</font><font style="color:#8A6ECB;" size="3">  ♥</font> ''')''' - '''First Boy'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">Initially agitated by what she thought was a softhearted and weak boy, Virara's fascination with him has grown to something more. He is her first friend, the first Eorzean she knew, the first person to challenge her worldview, and the second person to withstand her strikes, after her Master. It is possible that her attachment to him is more intense than she lets on, but Virara's poor grasp of emotions ensures that what form it takes remains ambiguous. Virara seems to want to be close to him, regardless. Chachanji, for his part, appears to see her as a younger sibling, but Virara considers him too immature to take seriously in that role...</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Memeli Meli]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#CE9BD7;" size="3">  ♥</font><font style="color:#8A6ECB;" size="3">  ♥</font> ''')''' - '''The Other Eye'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">This diminutive rapscallion is Virara's first female friend close to her own age. She both admires and envies many qualities Memeli possesses, such as her bright demeanor and knowledge of aether. Their closeness is akin to sworn sisters, or something more, but as with Chachanji, Virara feels an indistinct desire to be close. She's sworn to become Memeli's "other eye," after she lost hers to a malevolent spirit, and Virara keeps her promises. However Virara is conscious of pushing forward in her training, concerned that she has left Memeli behind. Memeli wished to teach Virara to obtain the secret technique known as "cuteness." Virara solemnly swears to stand atop this new technique and become invincible to all foes!</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Jancis Milburga]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#CE9BD7;" size="3">  ♥</font> ''')''' - '''Jancis Lady'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">Jancis seems to have a natural poise and ladylike nature that intrigues Virara, who does not possess the qualities herself. Yet at the same time, there are deeper similarities between the two that aren't immediately apparent. It seems very likely they will come to understand each other even better soon. She has the atmosphere of an 'older sister,' if Virara had any grasp of what that actually was. The sight of her ponytail for some reason makes Virara grow calm.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Edda Eglantine]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''A Mysterious Noblewoman'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">The woman of noble breeding is a strange, unfamiliar existence to someone whose life has always been deprived of everything. Virara does not know how exactly to regard Edda. She is, however, a person who promises greater knowledge of a subset of society that seems as real to Virara as one of Chachanji's hero stories. She has recently aided Virara in her written communications, and some strain of Edda's civility has begun to change her; but is this what Edda herself wants?</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Leanne Delphium]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''The Hat Woman'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">Known for her outgoing personality and fabulous headwear, this free-spirited adventurer has a 'cordial' bond with Virara few enjoy, and often tries to encourage her to smile more and glare less. This has proven so far unsuccessful, but at least Virara is willing to lend Leanne her hands, if not always her ears. Virara is often disarmed by her openness and sense of simple warmth. Leanne is touchy with her, one of the few Virara is permissive towards. Yet for all her care, in the end it may be that Virara simply cannot understand familial love, and it may be that Leanne is not the one who is most disturbed by that disconnect.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[S'kye S'yoponi]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Sky Lady'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">Virara was certain she was older, and thus resolved to show her the characteristic stifling respect she often heaps upon those of her own race who are even slightly more advanced in years. However her behavior is even more child-like and unstable than Memeli's. Virara sometimes struggles to comprehend S'kye's winding and chaotic mass of thoughts, but she's surprisingly patient with the girl, even letting S'kye hug her and being a guinea pig, er... test pilot for her strange magiteck devices...</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Eaubront Shopont]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Bottle Man'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">Immediately getting off on the wrong foot with Virara, this Elezen has an uncanny condition in which his foot is magnetically attracted to his mouth. Yet for all his clumsiness, Virara shows him a hidden sort of grudging respect, though she would never admit to it. She is strangely at ease around him. Perhaps it is his constant stench of alcohol, which fills Virara with nebulous memories. Or perhaps it is because his sword arm is reliable, despite everything else. Some suspect she is deliberately even thicker and more literal around Eaubront simply to agitate him, but such rumors are unfounded...</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Flickering Ember]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Another Wild Child'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">More than anything else, Virara knows the terror of living in a bestial state, half mad and concerned with only her own survival and safety. When she locks eyes with Ember and sees the raw instinct there, she feels a sense of nostalgia that epitomizes its original definition of "the pain of returning home." But as Ember grows in humanity, so too does Virara's trust in her. The fact that she fed Virara doesn't hurt. Their feral origins draw them together, but Virara's forced training sadly separates them almost as much.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Jajara Jara]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''A Respected Elder'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">An associate of Memeli's through her organization. Virara knows a fist fighter when she sees one, and immediately wanted to challenge her, though she held back. She seems to respect her as the first older Lalafell she had met, but sadly, Vira's intensity and lack of social awareness made for an intimidating first impression, as she is wont to do. To Virara she is a wise, older lady, and she sometimes calls Jajara Aunt, much to her chagrin.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Chuchukepa Hohokepa]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Uncle Chuchippit Hepkop-Forget It.'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">Virara met this strange man whose name is hard to say in the Coral house. Not accustomed to meeting others of her race, let alone older ones, she reacted in a similar manner to how she regarded Jajara. Naturally she was surprised to find the two not only know each other, but are very close in a way Vira scarcely understands. She sees him as fretful and meticulous, but wise about the Aether, which Virara barely understands. 'Master' Chuchukepa trains Virara in how to cook like a more sane woman.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Ququiki Quki]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Cookie'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">An acquaintance of both Virara and Chachanji, Virara is impressed with "Cookie's" fighting spirit, despite her physical weakness and debilitating condition. Quki is a wellspring of arcane knowledge, despite being significantly younger than Virara, so often the conversations between the two boil down to Quki attempting to explain something that seems simple to her, but is far too complex for an ignorant Virara to grasp. Virara, unlike probably most people, is impressed by Quki's tendency to overdo it when training and somewhat cautiously encourages the dangerous behavior.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Warren Castille]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Serwarren'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">Chachanji's mentor, and thus a person who Virara innately respects. But in Virara's case, respect can sometimes also mean 'wants to drub mercilessly.' Ser Castille is a prying sort who seems to be aware that Virara came from an abnormal upbringing. She respects Warren greatly for his insight into her and wants to learn from him to better understand how he and Chachanji think, and to improve herself accordingly.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Ha'uruh Nunh]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Howl'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">A friend of Warren's. Virara doesn't know him well, but was startled to know he trained under the same master as Sei. She feels some curiosity as to what caused them to become so different, and wants to know more. "Howl" was strangely protective of her when she took a contract from Surge, and Virara quickly noticed his irregular behavior..</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Tausenadel Geispyrsyn]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Animal Keeper'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">"Animal Keeper" Tau is as marvelous for his size as he is for not eating the many creatures he raises. He fascinates Virara, but she does not understand why he frowns at her whenever she suggests they eat one of his critters. Tau is also an unwitting demonstrator of the emotion of "grief," as Virara watched the trial of [[Sigurd Rainecourt]] involving the untimely death of his wife, [[Dhemgeim Shyrdoenwyn]]. She observes him when he's angry as well as when he is content, trying to grasp the alien feeling locked hidden away within his massive form.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Valentinoix Thibault]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''The Stranger From Underground'''</div></div>
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| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">An ally from the Coral house. A man of few words, this Duskwight proved his reliability several times over in battle alongside Virara. His difficulties in adjusting to the world above ground remind Virara she is not the only one struggling in a foreign land. Indeed, all land above ground is "foreign" to him, yet he suffers inconvenience with only mild complaint, and is a stalwart figure regardless. Conversations between the two typically involve a great deal of uncomfortable silence.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Tiergan Vashir]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''The Silver Cat'''</div></div>
|-
| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">This man's history of violence is plain as day to Virara, who watches a stranger's movements long before she even speaks to them. Virara aided him once in tracking down and attempting to subdue a rival... or friend, of his. Tiergan's profound obsession with an equally blood-drenched man, Zaius, is for once a feeling that Virara can recognize, a rarity. Much as Tau, she sees him as an interesting model of behavior; the extremes of fixation and hate she herself hasn't identified yet. His atmosphere of violence is nostalgic to her as well, and no amount of principled behavior or restraint will expunge it from her mind. Also, he kneels to talk to her, which Chuchukepa told her was rude, but she doesn't seem to care.</div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0"
! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Renzhen Berkuul]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#74a557;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Boss'''</div></div>
|-
| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">A woman of many mysteries, Virara is indebted to her for allowing the vagrant Lalafell to stay in her home. Though Virara's extreme formality with her seems to amuse the Coral Sea's leader, she also has taken a liking to Virara and encourages her to cultivate an independent spirit. Despite this, Virara has difficulty comprehending what it means to live for a goal of her own, and her sense of self is weak. She is respectful and will abide by Renzhen's orders, though she and Staelufre, whom Virara sees as her blood-oath sibling, speak in a language she struggles to comprehend. However, Virara's transparent stubbornness suggests that while she doesn't dislike 'Boss' and will fulfill her obligations out of a desire to repay the shelter and care she receives, her only true allegiance is to her Master.</div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0"
! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Staelufre Lysmerl]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#898b8c;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''The Riddle Lady'''</div></div>
|-
| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">On one hand her manner of speech is frustratingly obtuse for the direct girl, but on the other hand she can relate to her innate affinity for violence. Virara is honored to the point of bewilderment by receiving what perceives to be a 'style name' (Rhetidaeg) akin to those granted to warrior nobility in Doma, but at the same time a name given by someone other than Master is a blasphemy to her. It may be that Virara can communicate better with the "Pink Cat" more easily through her first language of the fist than with spoken words alone. In order for them to be closer, Virara must learn to expand beyond her rigid world view.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Shoshopu Shopu]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#898b8c;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Eyebrow Lady'''</div></div>
|-
| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">A neighbor of sorts, Shoshopu met Virara at the Still Shore in passing once, only later on to find themselves running across one another in the Sea of Clouds. During one of Virara's training excursions, she was waylaid by Eligor Abigor, who had once threatened Shoshopu in a similar sense before. In that regard Virara and Shoshopu have a shared interest in keeping the strange, masked Lalafell at bay. Virara does not defer to her submissively as she does most older Lalafell she respects, as she is too distracted by Shoshopu's eyebrows to really care what age she is. So she doesn't call her anything but 'eyebrow lady,' again to the recipient's displeasure. Recently she's become interested in learning the odd dance Shoshopu was taught by the Vanu tribesmen.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Dren Ghonne]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#898b8c;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''The Two Drens'''</div></div>
|-
| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">Lonely and frail-looking, Dren met Virara in the midst of a strange engagement near the chamber of rule, beating a giant adamantoise taken in for a leve to death, hungering for tortoise soup. Dren's soup immediately got on her good side, but his past in servitude, so readily volunteered, innately struck a chord with her, being not dissimilar to her own. In an attempt to both help her new goal of using her strength for others, not merely herself, and also out of empathy for Dren, she volunteered to let him stay with her in her room at the Quicksand. Dren's strange instability puts Virara on edge, and she is becoming progressively more guarded around him.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Liliro Liro]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#952e2e;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''A Thief'''</div></div>
|-
| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">A girl who was interested in Memeli. Wary of her at first, Virara was troubled watching them; not out of jealousy, but of an extreme desire to protect Memeli, and perhaps to remain useful. She seems to see Liliro as having enabled Memeli's deprecated self-confidence, but Virara did not blame Liliro in the slightest for Memeli's slump. Even after getting kicked out of Memeli's bed and punched in the nose a few times, Virara held not even the slightest of grudges. They sparred once, and that built some degree of connection between the violet duo. Naturally, Virara's ignorance of social mores caused tension, a fact she was utterly unaware of. However, when the two broke up, she felt her defensive attitude was vindicated, and the pair's mixed signals were an open invitation to keep Liliro away from Memeli.</div>
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! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Annunu Nunu]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#952e2e;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''That Woman'''</div></div>
|-
| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">A socialite from Ul'dah and the consort of Chachanji's brother, her enemy Gogonji Gegenji. She was there when Virara fought alongside many allies to suppress the Khamja and put an end to the megalomaniac's ambitions of uninhibited revenge upon Garlemald. A killer knows her ilk from the oblivious masses; the stench of blood is unmistakable. Annunu's fighting skills provoke a grudging respect from her, while her loyalty to Gogonji and baffling behavior provoke her loathing. It may be that Virara sees something in Annunu that is entirely too familiar to her, and she does not like it. </div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0"
! <div align="left"><div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#000000;" size="2">  '''[[Dante Abigor]]'''</font> '''('''<font style="color:#952e2e;" size="3">  ●</font> ''')''' - '''Masked Man'''</div></div>
|-
| <div style="font-size:11px; font-family:Georgia">When first approached by this strange, masked Lalafell, Virara found his sentences disjointed and odd, his demeanor overly familiar and his pestering insistence insufferable. But deeper than that, his reluctance to share information about himself, his curiosity towards her, and most of all the enigmatic mask, immediately provoked revulsion within her. Regardless of the fact that Virara does not trust anyone who would hide their face, not easily in any case, his mask reminds her of her twisted stalker. Recent meetings in which Eligor revealed an incomprehensible monster in the form of an arcane tome and demanded she feed it her blood have only made Virara more and more wary of him. </div>
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</tr></table>

=History=

<div align=center><div style="padding:10px 0%; background: #8D8ABF;font-size:16px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px black">'''H I S T O R Y'''</div></div>
<div align=justify><div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#585350;font-family:Georgia;"></div></div>
<br>
<table style="position:center;" width="100%"><tr>
=====<div style="padding:0px 30px; font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Childhood</div>=====

:: Orphaned at sea by a typhoon, a tiny Lalafell child was cast away in a worm-eaten barrel to the shores of a coral atoll halfway between Othard and Eorzea. Murky colors and sounds, viewed through an opaque haze in her deepest memories, were all that remained of her past. Hunger agonized her and thirst drove her half mad. She forgot her name, her family's faces, even her old language. Now nearly feral, the tiny girl fought fiercely to survive at no older than six. Only through an uncanny strength and copious luck did the castaway live for more than a year. Tiny and alone, everything and later, everyone, was a potential threat.

:: At the same time the insignificant speck found another insignificant speck to eke out an existence upon, Garlemald solidified its powerful claim on its holdings in Othard. What once was a proud nation controlled by a warrior nobility now genuflected before a new master, and rebellion already was already seething beneath placating faces and bowed heads. Many refugees fleeing oppression retreated from their continent, particularly from Doma. What started as an unremarkable atoll visited only by the occasional smuggler gradually grew into a shanty town full of the runoff from Garlemald, and from there expanded into a series of small fishing, trade and supply communities tailored to the cultural needs primarily of those from Othard and Doma. Cities were sometimes more water than earth and stone canals rose up seemingly out of nowhere. Incredible masses of Doman refugees poured in; their numbers would nearly double years later as the rebellion began and ended almost as abruptly, and the former Garlean territory was consumed in a worldly hell.

:: The young Lalafell had become a stranger to civilization. Tentatively entering the territory of the intruders, she secreted herself into the remote alleys and canal ways of the settlement, soon to become a tiny, unremarkable dot named Llymlaen's Necklace on Eorzean maps. The girl stole and mugged her way into a higher calorie diet, and grew stronger. Soon she could easily beat and rob any refugee children and relieve them of what little food kept them from starvation. She had no conscience any more than a wild animal, and lacked the ability to recognize the harm she did to others, and as a result grew stronger and bolder, eventually even attacking weakened adults. Her body was laced with a wiry strength that seemed out of proportion with her tiny figure. Sometimes she beat refugees, if they resisted fiercely, until they stopped moving. On her small island, she became hated and was driven out of town whenever they caught sight of her. But neither could they capture the girl.

:: After a few close calls, she became semi-civilized, learning their language through observing from the shadows. She knew she needed some basic ability to communicate as the intruders became more numerous and their towns grew larger. She smuggled herself from island to island by offering food she stole, never staying in one place more than a night. Eventually, the locals grew wary of her once more at somewhere around ten or twelve years old; she'd lost count long ago. By that point in time, Virara had become a savagely clever child, as well as possessing abnormal size even compared to fully grown Lalafell, with strength and agility beyond that which her tiny frame would suggest. She was a threat even to hale adults on a good day, and was only growing stronger, and hungrier.

=====<div style="padding:0px 30px; font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Captivity</div>=====

:: One day, the pickings had been slim. The children hid from her bullying, and unable to mug or steal anything from the Domans' store rooms and fish pots, she became acutely aware of her hunger and desperation set in. She set eyes on a tanned, grim woman missing an eye, sitting in a rude street front tea shop. Her build was strong, her posture confident, and she stunk of blood. The way she carried herself, and the grisly tattoos on her arm would have normally been warning enough to tell her to keep a wide berth from the stranger, but she was too famished to notice. She gambled. With an eye missing, she was doubtlessly blind on that side and pickpocketing should have been easy.

:: After slipping her hand into the woman's robe around her waist, where all the Domans kept their coin purses, the urchin abruptly found herself on the ground, beaten raw, her arm numb and unmoving. The woman bore down upon her. "Steal from me, would you? I've never met a child so eager to die. I shan't oblige you." Carried off to no objections by the locals, the girl found herself bound and collared in a drafty house redolent of sandalwood and incense on the biggest island in the Necklace.

:: The woman who held her prisoner her stated simply that since the girl conducted herself like an animal she would be treated like one, and thus was given the epithet "Wakuwa," which in the stranger's peculiar dialect from an island near Doma, meant simply "pig," in reference to her build and size.

:: In the hellish half-year she spent in captivity, she initially took every attempt possible to escape, but in all cases found herself thwarted and beaten horribly. Eventually her rage over boiled. She had thrashed a few refugees hard in her years, sometimes until they stopped moving, but it was the first time she wanted to do so purely out of malice. The woman seemed aware of this, and one night opened the store room door to the small, stuffy chamber "pig" was tied up in.

:: "You hate me, don't you?"

:: Though she was smaller than her, the girl's violent nature, contrasting with her inhumanly focused glare, provoked a flinch in the older woman. With every reckless blow the captive girl threw, futile as it was, her eyes took on a quality the Doman lady had seen before in shark infested waters off the coast of the Necklace. The essence of void, entered before the fatal bite, was the state of innocent brutality known only to a beast. When Virara's eyes grew wide with rage, their dark pupils seemed to eclipse everything sentient inside her. Perhaps it was this inner nature that the coldly smiling woman resonated with.

:: "Enough to kill me, huh?"

:: A few wild, reckless swings and desperate clawing at the room's dirty floor were answer enough.

:: The woman hunkered down, nursing a long, smoking pipe, as she was wont to do.

:: "You're not the first. Many men and women came before you, and all have failed. I was stronger, better than them. And you, a bloody pig, have the gall to think you've got what it takes to retire me?"

:: Clearly interested, the woman undid her collar... and immediately pinned the flailing child to the floor, foreseeing her obvious assault before it came.

:: "Only a Spoken can kill me. Spoken have names. A pig has no use for one. I'll grant you a name fit for a Lalafell."

:: Combining some haphazard syllables in a manner roughly resembling her race's typical rhyming name scheme, Virara was born anew as a person. The name was meaningless and odd to the ears of her kind, but her keeper didn't care. The woman, who demanded Virara merely refer to her as Sensei, underwent a dramatic metamorphosis in how she regarded the girl. What once was arbitrary, vicious behavior for no other purpose other than reprisal or amusement, focused itself into an intense reformation of her character. She took on the Doman language and lifestyle, as taught to her by Sensei in between puffs on her long pipe. Virara was no more than a servant, but she ate better than she had in years, often times several magnitudes more than Sensei herself. Though Sensei knew she was hated by literally everyone in every settlement in the Necklace, she sent her out regardless on errands, and Virara often had to find and pay merchants and traders for foodstuffs and goods as secretly as possible.

:: With time Virara grew hale and strong, and when obedient, Sensei didn't harm her, though she was casually dismissive and rarely spoke to her conversationally. While Spoken now, Sensei still did not regard Virara as anything approaching an equal. She demanded more from Virara, and Virara obliged, giving up her life of theft and violence for one of constant study and dutiful toil. Her personality radically changed, molded as if she were an infant again in the hands of her watchful master. There were times when Virara forgot that she had meant to kill this woman altogether, and her seething hatred slowly evaporated into a mist of forgotten grievances.

=====<div style="padding:0px 30px; font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">The Labyrinth Fist</div>=====

:: Virara began to exhibit an unnatural constitution. She was constantly hungry and required more food than Sensei initially intended to give her, eventually forcing the woman to train Virara to fish for herself. Vira helped Sensei plant a small orchard in the uncleared land behind her home, and they dried apricots to save them for the spring.

:: In addition to this strange metabolism, Virara seemed to have no real grasp of her own strength, which was already disproportionate to her size. When chopping wood, Vira would often hew the logs straight through, and leave deep rend marks in the stone beneath. Her arms would be red and sore afterward, and sometimes even needed medical attention. Sensei believed that something in Vira's mind was shattered from since she was castaway, transcending exhaustion and pain, but her servant didn't fully understand anyway.

:: Vira's unnatural constitution piqued Sensei's interest once again. "You've become Spoken now, Virara. Far from the pig you once were. An animal does not kill out of hatred, nor for some flimsy concoction of 'reasoning.' You recognize a distinction between right and wrong, a quality most Spoken either possess or claim to. Which applies to you, I don't have a care for. A thinking being has the ability to weigh the life of another in her hands. Do you wish to become fully Spoken, with all that truly entails?"

:: From that day forward, something in the woman's eyes changed. Virara could tell, merely by looking at her, that Sensei had recognized her. No longer a servant or an animal, she was a true student.

:: "Watch yourself, brat," Master warned her, "For the very instant I deem you a failure is the instant I stop your heart."

:: Sensei was the inheritor of a style of combat from Doma, compiled from many nations' martial arts long before their nation was formed, long before Garlemald and the occupation. This style was Shichisei Meikyuuken, or the Seven Star Maze Fist. She had left for reasons she wouldn't divulge during the early years of the Rebellion. In her own words, it was a method of fighting, unarmed or armed, that would render its masters either a god or demon. This sounded like an excellent tool to kill her master with, so she agreed outright. Such was the reasoning she provided herself consciously, but Virara felt an unfamiliar, rising sensation in her chest when her Sensei gazed at her more softly than before. Her face often began making a faint expression alien to her, the corners of her lips curving upward. The feeling was good, though she scarcely understood what it meant.

:: The training was harsh, almost as much so as the mistreatment she endured during her early stay with Sensei. Five years were spent in enhanced study; both her civilizing and fighting training became feverishly intense. Master's method of instruction was merciless to the point of insanity, and countless times her new student courted instant death simply by sparring with her. Virara learnt of foreign languages other than Doman and how to cook for herself at the same time she was shattering iron spheres with her palms and cutting down orchard trees with her forearms. Eventually Virara was honed into a fist fighter of prodigious skill. A natural, her abnormal muscle power and hyperactive metabolism meshed keenly with the explosive, lethal blows of the style. Meikyuuken was a direct style, in comparison to its convoluted name, but perhaps its simplicity belied a more subtle insidiousness. Even the most innocent of testing blows could easily transition to a fatal hit. Its guards were deflections and strikes at the same time. A seemingly linear step in fact involved countless subtle curving movements and changes in speed. Economy of movement, a strong defense, and mythril-like core body conditioning were its areas of focus, on top of penetrating defenses and ending the fight in a single blow. With time, Virara could slay next week's dinner (The rare, expensive aldgoat not common on the Necklace) with a single blow to the forehead, the thickest part of its skull. Prodigy was a term oft used and rarely deserved, but in some sense it did apply to her.

:: In time Sensei also conversed more with her student. She told of Doma's history and its culture, the war with Garlemald. She mentioned in passing that she once had a family, and that she was the only student of the style left. Sensei expressed a disgruntled hatred of both Garlemald *and* Doma, and stated in vague terms that her nation "betrayed" her, but in what way she never said, and she only spoke of the matter when thoroughly drunk. Sometimes Virara could her her master praying alone outside in the grove at night. The list of names she prayed for was long. It soon became her lullaby.

:: The Calamity came and went for Virara. Unlike most, it was not a happening of significance in her life. As with everything, the inhabitants of the Necklace merely adapted. Their remote location helped protect them, slightly, from the wrath of the cataclysm. Though some died in the horrible storms and massive waves, both Virara and her master escaped unscathed, though they lost their home and had to live amongst the locals in their new floating raft and boat community. Much of the landmass was submerged, but the Necklace was part of the sea and its inhabitants were hardy people. Virara became accustomed to the steady rock of ships and boats beneath her feet, soon beginning to find dry land unnatural.

:: The two increased in strength together as summers and winters passed like migratory birds. Eventually, Sensei's past in Doma caught up to her. Often she would leave to walk along the piers and canal ways late at night to deal with 'urgent business.' On rare occasions she would leave the islands entirely for days on end. She often came back disheveled and scratched up. Sensei's excuse was that she fell down, drunk, which Virara typically believed because she was very much addicted to rice wine, but eventually the excuses stopped flowing and the injuries became more severe. It appeared not all of the past she'd left behind in occupied Doma wanted to be forgotten.

:: One night, a man dressed in black and wearing curious weapons greeted Virara as she rose groggily from her sleep to relieve herself. A desperate struggle ensued, in which Virara's life nearly ended, if not for Sensei's intervention. The killer was obscenely skilled, and quickly had even her Master on the defensive, but he hadn't counted on Virara breaking his knee in twain from behind. When the assassin reeled in pain, Virara simply did as she'd done with the aldgoats before. It ended quickly. A muddy, dark film seemed to cross the iris of her eyes as she locked gazes with her Sensei. Something lay there in her Master's single eye, something nostalgic and painful, a sense of agonizing recognition. That brought Vira back to reality, but before the significance of what she'd done set in:

:: "Virara, your training, as it has been until now, is over. You're not ready to face me and kill me yet, not until you've inherited the art from me fully."

:: Days later, Sensei prepared a satchel full of supplies, some rugged traveling clothes, and a pair of bone hora, meant solely to protect Vira from her own freakish strength, and told her to go to Eorzea, as a test of worthiness to begin learning the succession techniques of Shichisei Meikyuuken. Told to seek out a man that Sensei supposedly crossed paths with in an arena years ago, Virara set out on a trade vessel bound for Ul'Dah's bay of Dha'Yuz, hunting for the man known as "Holyfist" to challenge him. But Virara did not leave without a final, taxing "gift" from her exacting Sensei...

=====<div style="padding:0px 30px; font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">The Power to Slay</div>=====

:: Arriving in Eorzea, Virara was immediately beset by a suffusion of sounds and sights utterly alien to her. Ul'dah was dry and teeming with people, the marketplaces overflowing with goods Virara could scarcely imagine in her time on the Necklace. Immediately she began setting out to find the Holyfist and crush him, in accordance to her Master's wishes, but her lack of physical strength after the woman's crippling acupressure technique left Virara feeling a sense of vulnerability and frailty hitherto unknown to her. Hamon did not take the Lalafell girl seriously and instead set her about the Pugilist's Guild attending to menial tasks and doing strength training. Virara assumed that Hamon was pitying her, or felt she was unworthy of a match, humiliating the girl. Hamon for his part may have felt she was pushing herself too hard, or just wanted free labor.
:: In any case, Virara would eventually get her wish to face Hamon in a match, but as a method of rehabilitating the aged warrior after events Virara was not privy to reignited his fighting spirit. This fulfilled Virara's obligation to her master. In her short time as a member, Virara spoke little with other pugilists and absorbed tremendous knowledge of the typical Ul'dahn hand to hand combat styles with typical ease, but the culture of the locals remained bewildering to her.

:: One day, in the Quicksand, Virara met a tiny boy. Having never spoken to or known another of her kind before, Virara engaged him as awkwardly as could be conceived. This was Chachanji Gegenji, a swordsman training to become a hero. Idealistic and naive in the extreme, Virara initially found "Chagenji" curious. His name was hard to say, his stature was small despite his fairly athletic frame, and he had the awkward air of a cowardly runt, the kind Virara used to pummel on the islands. But when she looked at his earnest, well-meaning gaze, something hot and fearsome boiled within her. This was a boy who endured hardship that did not even compare to her own; he knew suffering but felt it was something others could be saved from indefinitely. It was unacceptable to Virara that he could maintain such a gilded impression of the world around him, ignorant of her own limited experiences and worldview.
:: Though initially appreciative of Chachanji's attempts to befriend her and help her adjust to Eorzean culture, his peaceful attitude and heroic tendencies perplexed the comparatively merciless and hard-hearted Virara. Her relationship with him grew more and more tense, and with time Chachanji's presence in her mind became overwhelming. Every waking thought was of how he vowed never to take a life needlessly, and his boundless confidence in his ability to protect others close to him. Virara only understood the strength necessary to kill.

=====<div style="padding:0px 30px; font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">The Power to Save</div>=====

:: This eventually culminated in a furious duel in Thanalan, in which Virara prematurely exerted her strength, despite still being crippled, against a reluctant but determined Chachanji. Meikyuuken roared loudly that day, with her forms in weakened but prominent use. Such a display could hardly go unnoticed. Though she shattered his armor and nearly killed him outright, Chachanji cemented himself as a true warrior by being the first person to stand up after one of Virara's blows, outside of her own Master. For the first time, Virara understood that the intensity of emotion she felt towards Chachanji was respect, not hate. This was the 'power to protect,' to save others, that Virara had failed to grasp. To prioritize the survival of another being was inconceivable to a girl who struggled to survive from birth. That personality, and that line of thinking, began to quickly enthrall her. A stranger to happiness, Virara felt the odd sensation again, much as she had once her Master allowed her to take up their art.

:: Her sense of closeness with Chachanji deepening, she allowed her first friend, and the first boy she'd ever known, to guide her to a more tame state, wherein she did not challenge anyone she found strong enough to be worthwhile to a duel, and could interact with Eorzeans more normally. She met others such as Warren and Sei Castille, who trained Chachanji and thus earned interest from Virara quickly. Ququki Quki, another Lalafell, amazed the ignorant Virara with her knowledge of aether. She met Dren Gonne, another boy with a similar background to her own, and a feral streak she understood all too well. With time, however, it was no longer sufficient for Virara to live out of the Quicksand as a boarder. While she made money from time to time working odd jobs out of the guild, and as an unnervingly destructive extra hand in Momodi's kitchen, Virara wished to see more of Eorzea, and to have a solid base from which to stage those endeavors.

=====<div style="padding:0px 30px; font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">A Place to Rest</div>=====

:: Determined not to become reliant on her new acquaintances, Virara trained herself to the limit, traveling across the land from each great city to fight dangerous fauna, traverse hazardous terrain and bolster her stamina through more frequent cooking. With time her old strength returned, though her ability to perform the techniques of her art still seemed limited. But the lifestyle of drifting from inn to inn, sometimes sleeping in alleys or under the stars as she did before she met Master, was draining, not to mention lonely. It was a fact that Virara herself would never admit, but she felt keenly the distance between Eorzea and the Necklace. Sometimes she would sit for hours, watching the surf lap the shores of La Noscea in utter silence. Other times she would train, perform long and short kata, almost hoping a watchful eye over the horizon would find her, even if her islands were far from that horizon in the other direction.

:: On an excursion to train in Mist, Virara came across Memeli Meli and Chachanji, who had recently joined the association "Coral Sea." Over time, Virara's visits to Mist became more frequent, and her friendship with the other two deepened. Memeli in particular was a strange girl, full of good humor and warmth, whose behavior differed greatly from Virara's despite the similarity in their ages, and Virara began to consider for the first time if her own upbringing wasn't abnormal in comparison to her new Eorzean friends. Virara also noticed that the way she tended to focus on an opponent with all-encompassing attention when angry seemed to happen to her around Chachanji often, even when she was calm, but remained ignorant and thought little of the strange feeling.

:: Virara eventually signed on with Coral, though the loose association and lack of direction in such a free-spirited group confused the girl. She boards with Memeli and Chachanji, as she was already practically a resident before joining due to her homelessness. For the first time, Virara had found a place she could consider home outside of that waterlogged, odorous longhouse in the Necklace. Yet the image of her Master still remained forefront in her mind. Could she maintain the power she owed her benefactor? With the softness of her new lifestyle, could she slay her Master when their fated time of confrontation finally arrived? Virara seemed convinced that would be impossible, especially after a humiliating loss (By her perception) in a friendly duel against Memeli, for which she admonished herself mercilessly inside.

:: She resumed her training with an obsessive vigor, incorporating new knowledge of Aether and Eorzean culture into her education. When Virara focused on moving her body and training her physique, she could not think deeply. When she was free of deep, irrelevant thoughts, she didn't need to feel unease. Something about her new friendships, the triumvirate she had formed with her Coral companions, was eating away at her, but with her mind empty as it was, Virara could not perceive it even with the slightest of awareness. She understood she was frustrated with something, but what it was she could not begin to describe. Confronting her feelings, she resolved to allow herself to become closer to her "first boy" and "first girl" friends, but feared the worst; that her presence in their relationship would disrupt the accord they shared.

:: She also began to train to cook in a manner befitting sane people, to make herself more useful to her new home and not frighten the others with her martial culinary practices.

=====<div style="padding:0px 30px; font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;">Bloody Roots</div>=====

:: After a day at the Grindstone, Virara, Memeli and Chachanji returned home. Virara, more or less a vagrant with no address nor any relations outside of acquaintances and her Master, received a small package in the mail. Upon opening it, the grisly visage of a severed pig's head greeted her, along with a cryptic poem in Doman. Thus did begin a long series of harassments and a difficult investigation to find the sender. At times watching from parts unseen, Virara could feel her stalker draw near, and her highly honed instinct became a double-edged sword sharp enough to cut herself on, straining her relationships at the house and wearing her composure thin. After a traumatizing experience over dinner, where Virara quite unexpectedly found 'the eyes' upon her, she resolved to hunt down the stalker and exact retribution. The knowledge of her childhood name suggested the enemy was someone close to her, or had watched her for years.

:: When in groups with the rest of her free company, Virara was safe from the prowling terror, and thus was able to assist Chachanji in taking down his ambitious but highly disturbed older brother. She also assisted Memeli in seizing back her very face from a malevolent spirit, whom Virara never quite forgave even after she indicated a desire for just punishment, and demonstrated Memeli's guilt. Her closeness with Memeli, Chachanji, and others of the company and outside, such as Jancis Milburga and Flickering Ember, grew as well. It became clear that though Virara did not put much stock in what she felt, that did not mean she felt nothing. Gifted with a pair of peach blossom earrings and tortoise shell hora by her first friends, she felt a compulsion to be near them; a desire that they never stray far from her. It was unfamiliar, but pleasant.

:: That was why when Virara was taken by surprise, paralyzed with a neurotoxin and maimed by metal wires at the hands of her foe in Summerford at the final leg of their investigation, she came to believe that those same bonds had made her vulnerable and distracted. Faced fully with the extent of her unpreparedness, only the timely intervention of Virara's allies in Coral allowed her to make it out of her foe's clutches. The stalker, who called himself, or herself, Tsuchigumo, demonstrated that it not only had watched Virara, it has spied upon the others for some time, and clearly had some connection to her Master. A combatant of uncanny ability, it put Coral's rescue party to the test, but they ultimately triumphed, taking one of its arms. What sort of hideous truths lay behind the assailant's smiling, cordial Doman mask? Judging from the path of disappeared persons Tsuchigumo seemed to leave in its wake, it could be nothing a sane mind would willingly engage with.

:: Virara, however, had only one truth to glean from Tsuchigumo; that for all her strength and determination, she was wholly unprepared to face and kill her Master. Unhinged to a certain extent by her experiences in the cave behind Woad Whisper Canyon, Virara began to train like a girl possessed, straining her injured body to its limits, the phantom wires still binding her inside the mind. Only the increased pressure of her allies delivered Virara from irreparable damage, at perhaps the expense of her pride.

:: Tsuchigumo was not alone, however. Among Gogonji's Khamja organization, two others who seemed connected to Tsuchigumo had emerged, all wearing the Doman Noh theater masks and bearing unique and deadly skills. These disloyal subordinates seemingly abandoned Gogonji to his fate, their treachery only exceeded by the cryptic nature of their true plan. Were they acting independently? Did they value one another as close allies, or loathed one another as rivals working towards some undefined objective? Very little made sense, and each clue grew more befuddling than the last.

:: No sooner than Virara had almost fully recovered from her maiming, she was confronted by yet another threat; an unnatural power flowed through her friend, Memeli, threatening not only her life, but the continent itself through the machinations of a primal-like being. Her own demeanor grew darker and more unstable; a powerful compulsion took root at the back of her head, the emotions behind her friendship driving Virara to unhealthy obsession with dragging her friend back from the brink. Her desire to deliver Memeli from her predicament bordered on madness. Perhaps she had never been fully sane to begin with, given who raised her.

:: Though the incident was resolved, Memeli was left catatonic and drained. Virara stayed by her bedside like a loyal servant until exhaustion claimed her against her will, night after night, only stopping to train herself to up to the point of breaking. When she questioned herself, which she was loath to do, Virara had no answers for why someone other than Master mattered so deeply. When the time came for Virara to face the creature's new host, Stefan Delumiere, she held nothing back. The result was a single strike that seemed to rend reason itself asunder for a split second, a sublime art that Virara seemed unaware of even as she released it. This was the crystallization of her undiluted malevolent intent given flesh, a subconsciously concocted ars magna. Whether it was something her Master granted her, or a product of her unhealthy mind, Virara did not know and did not care. She'd "expressed her displeasure" in her original language to the false primal. If Memeli recovered or not would be a matter of time, and fate, but that moment where she struck Stefan down, Virara for the first time understood an emotion within her implicitly; a rage born of concern for a precious person, uncontrolled and dominating in its power. It was unlikely, even as Virara recovered her composure after the battle, that she would ever truly be the same.

<br>
</tr></table>

=Misc=

<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #826f71; color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''BACKGROUND MATERIAL'''</center></div>
:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#585350;" size="2">■</font> '''RPG Style Stats:''' These are just for fun, and give a vague impression of what she is skilled at. [[https://docs.google.com/document/d/1OaiTcTsQ9B-myoODwwMZvHXvLoKb4tuHwMbDmVaMrX0/edit?pli=1 This FATE-14 sheet]] is for use with events requiring the roll-based system.</div>
{{AttributeBox
| font = #000
| titlebg2 = #8D8ABF
| bg1txtclr #000
| border = #aaa
| strength = 8
| pdef = 6
| dex = 7
| mdef = 3
| prowess = 7
| luck = 1
| magic = 1
| intelligence = 5
|}}

<br>

=Notes=

<div align=center><div style="padding:10px 0px; background: #8D8ABF;font-size:16px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px black">'''M I S C E L L A N E O U S'''</div></div>
<table style="position:center;" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #abb09d;font-size:14px;color:#abb09d;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #abb09d"><center>'''Butts.'''</center></div></span></h3>
: <div style="font-size:12px; font-family:Georgia"></div>
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #bea8a9;font-size:14px;color:#eeeeee;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''C H A R A C T E R    M U S I C'''</center></div>
<div align=center><div style="font-family:Georgia;"></div></div>
:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> '''Theme Song:'''</div>
::[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0wWU_wfMId4 Itou Kanako - Reichin Rin'inshan] Vocal Theme
::[http://www.hujiang.com/gequ/p872777/ ZIZZ - Memento Bell] Main Theme
::[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=75EUZTeF_-I Itou Kanako - Hotarubi] Master's Vocal Theme
::[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bN0mS7tbf6s Itou Kanako - Roar] Master's Vocal Theme EX! (Can you tell I'm a fan?)
::[http://www.hujiang.com/gequ/p4942723/ ZIZZ - Disgrace] Master's Theme
::[http://www.hujiang.com/gequ/p872753/ ZIZZ - Vow of Sword] Theme of Virara and Master
::[http://www.hujiang.com/gequ/p872167/ ZIZZ - Fantasy Poetry] Theme of Virara's Past
::[http://www.hujiang.com/gequ/p872200/ ZIZZ - Demon Blade] Theme of the Nameless Technique
::[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9QVr4iWN_Yw Hosoe Shinji - Theme of Tetsuo Kato] Fight 1
::[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nLEw0eLjxg8 Ishikawa Shinji - Ryokan Tsurugiya] Fight 2
::[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MrB3Zw-ZN8 SNK Sound Team - The Flowing Festival] Fight 3
::[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8cEueHSZr4 Vetreux - UZUKI] Fight Vocal EX!
::[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wU6odaJDpkM Asakura Noriyuki - Battle With Onikage] Fight (Mask 1)
::[http://www.hujiang.com/gequ/p4942717/ ZIZZ - BLADE ARTS III] Fight (Mask 2)
::I tried to keep it consistent in artist and theme. Obviously, I don't own any of this music and I'm linking these just for fun... Please don't judge my music choices too harshly ^_^'

<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #a48e91; color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''O U T S I D E    L I N K S'''</center></div>
:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#969687;" size="2">■</font> '''Voice:'''</div> [https://youtu.be/cPuIaqcKX6k?t=2m6s Akesaka Satomi (KrKr, Arsene, Esdeath, Vanilla H, Eltnum]
:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#969687;" size="2">■</font> '''On 'Sen':'''</div> [http://www.kendo-guide.com/terminology_sen.html Page talking about concept of 'sen' in Japanese martial arts]
:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#969687;" size="2">■</font> '''On Baji Terms:'''</div> [http://kenji.wikia.com/wiki/Bajiquan Probably not totally accurate; wiki for Kenji Baji terms.]
:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#969687;" size="2">■</font> '''Noh Masks:'''</div> [https://nohmask21.com/eu/ Page with examples of Japanese Noh Drama Masks.]
<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #abb09d;font-size:14px;color:#abb09d;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #abb09d"><center>'''More butts.'''</center></div></span></h3>
: <div style="font-size:12px; font-family:Georgia"></div>
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #bea8a9;font-size:14px;color:#eeeeee;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''O O C    N O T E S'''</center></div>
<div align=center><div style="font-family:Georgia;">Design and Influence Notes</div></div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> She is a derivative of an old D&D character I made years ago. I have a long history in RP and pen and paper, but this is my first MMO RP. It's been tricky getting used to it, but I feel confident I can execute my story as I wish it to be.</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> Influences are fightan gaems, non-FF rpgs such as Suikoden and Valkyrie Profile, Wuxia such as Jin Yong works, Meiji-era anime and period drama, a few VN. Some classical influences include the legend of Shuten-Doji and Ibaraki-Doji, the kabuki play Sukeroku, noh drama, General Xiang Yu. Maybe. It's all a blur to me by now~!</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> I have an intense sympathy for the theme of "the losers in history," or "a class made obsolete by progress," and so a lot of the work I draw from tends to feature those themes. The guiding concept behind the character was "can a person be born evil, and what kind of world allows such a person to be born?" Also, whether or not "a good deed erases an evil one," and "who can judge, who punishes?"</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> My character storyline also drew a few influences from the split between the pre-WWII Japan ultranationalist [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imperial_Way_Faction Koudouha and Touseiha] factions.</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> Shichisei Meikyuuken is based upon the legendary combination of Bajiquan and Piguaquan. As said, I'm fond of salt 'n clackity clacks. The basic forms draw heavily from [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B9jm6lbJj54 Akira Yuki (VF)], [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0DDi9ZAlrrE Lee Shuwen (Ehrgeiz)], and [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nP4R-LZniM Gato (Fatal Fury)]. A huge amount of inspiration is drawn from [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kenji_%28manga%29 Kenji], both for Bajiquan and martial arts in general; it is also a great reference for fight scenes featuring opponents of disparate size, useful for obvious reasons. For more fantastical influences, I drew from [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Condor_Trilogy Jin Yong's Condor Trilogy.], particularly for matters concerning the deeper style and Virara's Master. </div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> Virara's symbolic flower is the apricot blossom, and her image colors are violet, purple, pink, and red.</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> The Arachne Shirt's tattoo is not IC. Think of it as visual shorthand for her scarring...</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> Although her IC birthday is not known, her in game birthday is the same as famous martial artist [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mas_Oyama Oyama Masutatsu], and her killing of animals with her bare hands is a reference to his "bull killer" claim to fame.</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> If my JP is bad, I'm sorry! I couldn't resist.</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> Virara is an "ore(俺)" girl. This would give her a very masculine sound in a JP dub, but one that clashes with her rigidity.</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> Her love for beetles is derived from [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Insect_fighting this sport.]</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> In order to execute the kind of story I wanted to, I needed to introduce a lot of fanon, as the nature of Doma and Othard is vague. The location Lymlaen's Necklace is completely fanon, if you weren't already aware. A lot of the background story of NPCs in my character's plot line have some amount of fanon involved as well. Please be patient with me, I do my best to keep things plausible in regards to the setting.</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> On that note, my philosophy is that "fullness" trumps "emptiness," and that it is better to add to the setting than take away, particularly in places where things are vague, and so doing so flesh the universe out a little more. But if things happen to contradict my writing, I'll quickly retcon to make the story still work. </div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#b3aba6;" size="2">■</font> Eorzea is not Westeros. There's more to fiction than Western Fantasy. I'm not interested in what fighting style is most practical in real life, or how physics apply to FFXIV. Though I'd like to think I'm pretty flexible regarding grittiness and keep things appropriate to scene tone, I'm not married to realism, and doing cool stuff is cool. For my opinion on the nature of physics in Eorzea and realistic medieval combat therein, consult this [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tpFapapb1dQ link.]</div><br>

</tr></table>
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #826f71; color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''RP LIMITS'''</center></div>
:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#585350;" size="2">■</font> '''Do:''' Walk up, tell, pretty much anything! The eyepatch is the symbol of my burning commitment to rp! Or it would be, I'm trying to get better about that... Send me a friend request if you want to play more-I am very busy with two characters and quite a bit of PVE, so forgive me if I cannot RP with you always. I am very busy early in the week, and cannot rp much Sun, Tues, Wed evenings PST, with some floating days for extra raid practice. For combat scenes, I prefer honor system, or for the result to be decided beforehand, but will do /roll, and am thinking of making a Fate-14 sheet.</div>
:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#585350;" size="2">■</font> '''Ask:''' Common sense, but most of this wiki is OOC. I trust most players to be responsible as it's more fun that way; however, if you're ever even slightly unsure you can use information from my wiki in RP, please ask me before doing so. I'm always open to getting involved in new events and plotlines. I'd especially be receptive to having your character involved with Virara's past or that of her enormous NPC supporting cast, if yours is Doman or from Othard. However if I am busy or there is something going on that might interfere, I would like to make sure everything is squared away, so please do ask. Basically just ask if it's something that will occupy Virara significantly for extended periods of time.</div>
:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#585350;" size="2">■</font> '''Don't:''' My only real limit is ERP. I will not do it under any circumstances, sorry.</div>
<br>
= Arts/Screenies =
<div align=center><div style="padding:10px 0%; background: #7d8a78;font-size:16px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px black">'''A R T'''</div></div>
<center>
<br>
<gallery>
ViraraKuraOuPortrait.png|Portrait of Virara by [http://kura-ou.deviantart.com/ - Kura-Ou]

</gallery>
</center>

<div align=center><div style="padding:10px 0%; background: #7d8a78;font-size:16px;color:#eddfe2;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px black">'''S C R E E N I E S'''</div></div>
<br>

---

<br>
<br>
<br>

<headertabs />

[[Deirdre Ta'ea]]. [[Bancroft Gairn]]. [[Xheja Rajhera]]. [[Unnamed Mercenary]]. [[Lucaell Tareth'eian]]. [[D'lyhhia Lhuil]]. [[Edda Eglantine]] Thank you! I bow to your skills.

[[Category: Balmung]]
[[Category: Character]]
[[Category: Player Character]]
[[Category: Lalafell]]
[[Category: Plainsfolk Lalafell]]

X'cinna Ares

2017-01-17T05:23:12Z

Anstarra: Rumor!

{{Infobox-character
| name = X'cinna Ares
| image = X'cinna Ares.png
| imagewidth = 500
| caption = *posing*
| title = Damn Drunk
| gender = Female
| citizenship = N/A
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'cinna
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = Cinna, Cinnamon (she hates).
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Appearance==

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===

===Moderate Rumors===

===Rare Rumors===

===PC Rumors===
::* "She told me I blessed her with my radiance!! She used to say that the duty of the Nunh was to bless the huntresses with his light!! She's trying to make me her Nunh!!" - [[S'imba Tia]]
::* "... She stinks like Master. Of the drink. A woman who cannot mind her own business." - [[Virara Wakuwa]]
::* "At first, seeing anyone from my tribe was... hard. But Cinna's just another girl, once removed from that hell. Like I was. She drinks too much and if she calls me 'Nyanstarra' one more time I'll throw her into a stream, but she's not a bad person, and deserves a chance. And I'll kill to make sure she gets one, if I have to." - [[Anstarra Silverain]]

Nihka Mioni

2017-01-17T05:17:04Z

Anstarra: Rumor added!

{{Infobox-character
| name = Nihka Mioni
| image =
| caption =
| title =
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Twelveswood (Black Shroud)
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Keepers of the Moon (Shroudwolf Clan)
| stat_1 = Age
| stat_1_value = 20
| stat_2 = Height
| stat_2_value =
| stat_3 = Hair/fur
| stat_3_value = White, Pink highlights
| stat_4 = Eyes
| stat_4_value = pale blue, pale green
| stat_5 = Birthplace
| stat_5_value = Twelveswood
| stat_6 = Registered Professions
| stat_6_value = Alchemist.
}}
{{Character-stub}}

==Character==

===General Bio===

Very much a work in progress.

===Appearance===

===Behavior===

==Journals, Stories and More==

===IC Journals and Stories===

'''In chronological order: Oldest at top, and newest at bottom.'''

===Character Development Posts===

===Just for Fun===

==Combat==

===General===

::*'''Strengths:'''
::*
::*
::*
::*
::*
::*
::*
::*
::*.

::*'''Secondaries:'''
::*
::*
::*Basic unarmed combat training.

::*'''Weaknesses:'''
::*She might be relatively low in raw strength as she is a small Miqo'te woman.
::*She has low stamina in hot environments such as deserts. This is worse during the day.
::*Eyes are sensitive to bright light.
::*
::*
::*
::*

===Skills===
'''Combat'''

::Unarmed, Self defense:
::Single dagger, Self defense:
:::
:::

'''Craft'''

::*

'''Other:'''

::*

===Mentors and Tutors===

::*[[Kiht Jakkya]] Has helped her to learn self defense work with daggers.
::*

==Tendencies==

===Likes===
::* Meat.
::* Traditions, rituals and dancing.
::* Plant life. She likes flowers and trees.
::* Rain.
::* Darkness.
::*
::* Exploring.
::*
::* The Twelve Gods and Goddesses.
::* Telling stories.
::* Helping friends and family.
::*

===Dislikes===
::* Sunlight and heat.
::* Ixal.
::*
::*
::*
::* Foul smells. She has a super sensitive nose.
::*
::*
::*
::*
::*
::* Dishonesty

===Hobbies===
::*
::*
::*
::*
::* Music, and dancing to it.
::*
::*

===Other===
::*
::*
::*

==Relationships==

[[]]

===Family===

<spoiler>

</spoiler>

===Noteworthy Contacts===

: <center><font style="color:#F02311;" size="3">♥</font> Romantic Interest    <font style="color:#FA70BC;" size="3">♥</font> Platonic Love     <font style="color:#9EC60B;" size="3">●</font> Good Standing     <font style="color:#8f8377;" size="3">●</font> Neutral Standing     <font style="color:#00000;" size="3">●</font> Poor Standing</center>
: <center><font style="color:#0000FF;" size="3">♦</font> Family or Clan</center>

<font style="color:#9EC60B;" size="3">●</font>[[Enju Abbagliato]] -

<font style="color:#FA70BC;" size="3">♥</font>    [[Verad Bellveil]] -

<font style="color:#0000FF;" size="3">♦</font>[[Khloe Lyehga]] -

<font style="color:#0000FF;" size="3">♦</font>[[R'shesha Otharn]] -

<font style="color:#0000FF;" size="3">♦</font>[[Sanja Polaali]] -

<font style="color:#0000FF;" size="3">♦</font>    [[Ninifae Nira]] -

<font style="color:#00000;" size="3">●</font>[[Miah Polaali]] -

<font style="color:#9EC60B;" size="3">●</font>[[Zanzan Yanzan]] -

==Rumors==

===Note===
Rumors are the only information that anyone can know ICly before meeting Kiht Jakkya in the game.

===Common Rumors (Anyone)===

===Recent Rumors (Kept updated)(Anyone)===

===Uncommon Rumors (Depends)===

===PC Rumors (Anyone)===
((If you've met my character in the game then you may put any rumors you desire, here.))
::* "She's Menphina in mortal form." - [[S'imba Tia|Nihka'to Fuhkintia]]

::* "Anyone who has met Nihka, my love, who has spent time with her, will find their world changed just a little. And the more you know her, the deeper the effect... until you come to believe that even a damned soul could be saved. Even a soul like mine..." - [[Anstarra Silverain]]

==Character Music==

==Extras OOC==

==Annotations==

Took template from [[Kiht Jakkya]] who took it from [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

S'imba Tia

2017-01-17T05:10:46Z

Anstarra: Rumor added!

__NOTOC__
{| width="100%"
|-
| colspan="8" style="vertical-align:top" |

=General=
{{Infobox-character
| name = S'imba Tia
| image =S'imba_Tia_05_23_2014_18_55_56.png
| imagewidth = 300
| caption =
| gender = Male
| citizenship = Where your character was born, or lives in.
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Zu Tribe Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Age
| stat_1_value = 18
| stat_2 = Deity
| stat_2_value = Whatever god your character worships.
| stat_5 = Occupation
| stat_5_value = Gladiator/Adventurer
| stat_6 = Nameday
| stat_6_value = Date 12th Sun of the 4th Umbral Moon
}}

: ==== Name Etimology ====
Simba is the Swahili word for Lion.

==== Nicknames ====
* The Cat who plays with fire - [[Matahina Umigame]]
* Alpha Male - [[Gus Pumpkinweed]]
* Ul'dah's resident slave boy - [[Wolf Jaeger]]
* S'imba the wonder dumbass - [[Sorcha Byron]]
* Scrapper [[S'amh Windchaser]] [[Y'kett Akariah]]
* Raven - Allias
* Simb'a Fuhkintia
* Nihka'to
* Kou'ra
: Where is your character often found? Out in Eorzea, or in the Quicksand? Say so here.

: Does your character keep up with politics, or do they not really care? Say so here.

== Music Themes ==

<span style="font-size:x-small;">Note: Vocal Songs are attributed themes in which the lyrics seem to relate or partially relate to the character. They don't mean to resemble the character's voice. The instrumental themes are meant to give an idea of the atmosphere around the character. Songs with character names (example: "Tidus's Theme") are NOT meant to indicate that the character is like the theme owner. I just find the instruments and melody fitting, not the character the song was originally addressed to.</span>

*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QgFHL2R8m6s S'imba's Theme]
*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SKFwtgUJHs Battle Theme]
*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WE6jO96CDeA Dark S'imba's Theme]
*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rteUtTTwYqE S'imba and Reina]

==== <span style="font-size:larger;">''<span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;">Your Character's Inventory</span></span>''</span> ====
'''Last updated:''' June 19th, 2016
: - A sword with the appearance of the Dreadwyrm Claymore
: - Dark Knight Soulstone
: - A random rock that was once given to him by a summoner
: - Some sort of aether filled crystal that was given to him by a woman named Ralka sometime after retrieving it by the :request of a dragon
: - A popoto
: - A pair of anti-aether tribal daggers
: - A pouch filled with ground up glass and bits of metal shards to use as pocket sand which he affectionately refers to as :"glitter."

=Appearance=

'''Height:'''Tall for a Miqo'te though still spends a lot of time looking up.

'''Weight''' Athletic build

'''Hair: ''' Hay

'''Eyes: ''' Red

'''Particular Traits: ''' Is branded with a mark on the side of his face and a number on his left shoulder blade. His left arm has several tattoos that have been given to him, one being the 'jolly roger' of the crew known as the Dreadshrykes, a sigil of Oschon, a small viper tribe marking, and an ancient sigil of Bahamut. The sigils both have magical properties to them. The Oschon sigil gives him a limited healing effect, while the Bahamut sigil burns and glows brightly when he's in proximity to anything that is saturated with the dreadwyrm's energies, particularly interesting anything Allagan tech that received it's power from the crystal tower or Dalmud.

'''Clothing Style:''' He usually where's a pair of trousers that is the only thing he has from his home that his mother made him on his sixteenth birthday. He has several brands on his body that is required to remain visible at all times. He has a collar made of darksteel permanently affixed around his neck as a symbol that he is nothing but property to another as punishment for trying to run away. As a pit fighter he wears minimal armor just enough to cover his throat and heart. As the spectators are there for blood not to watch two tin cans beat each other to pieces. After going into hiding he wears armor he stole out of a shipping crate. It turned out to be ninja garb on its way to a ninja that had recently completed their training. Despite it being custom fitted to the owner it fit S'imba almost perfectly. While it serves as a perfect disguise S'imba despises having to wear it constantly. It's hot and just causes the sweat to build up and make him feel gross and miserable. Which leads to him being fairly irritable constantly. He as acquired several sets of clothing, mostly just shorts, though he was given a rogues uniform after he joined their ranks, after becoming the leader of the order of the compass he has found the need to dress more appropriately, wearing chain mail and other heavy clothings, though several individuals do not like this change and use every opportunity to take his shirt.

=Behavior=

=== '''''<u><span style="font-size:medium;">Hobbies</span></u>''''' ===

*

=== <span style="font-size:medium;"><u>'''''Likes'''''</u></span> ===

**

=== <span style="font-size:medium;">'''''<u>Dislikes</u>'''''</span> ===

*Letting people down.

*Being unable to help someone.

=== <span style="font-size:medium;">'''''<u>Favorites</u>'''''</span> ===

*<span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;">'''Color: '''Unknown</span></span>
*<span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;">'''Food: '''Unknown</span></span>
*<span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;">'''Drinks: '''Unknown</span></span>
*<span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;">'''Scent:''' Unknown.</span></span>
*<span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;">'''Place:''' Unknown.</span></span>
*<span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;">'''Festival:''' Unknown.</span></span>

=== <span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;"><u>'''''<span style="font-size:medium;">Goals</span>'''''</u></span></span> ===

*

=== <span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;"><u>'''''<span style="font-size:medium;">Religion</span>'''''</u></span></span></span></span> ===

=== <span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;">'''''<u><span style="font-size:medium;">Alignment</span></u>'''''</span></span></span></span></span></span> ===

== Personality ==

=== <span style="font-size:medium;">'''''<u>Quirks</u>'''''</span> ===

*He's a bit of a spaz.
*He can't help but get into some sort of trouble...much to the dismay of his friends.

=== <span style="font-size:medium;">'''''<u>Flaws</u>'''''</span> ===

*'''Reckless''' He tends to run into battle without thinking about the odds or the consequences. This has led him to several sticky situations. Especially if one of his friends are in trouble he'll drop whatever he's doing to help them even if it is essentially suicide.

*'''Aggressive''' He has a hot streak in him. Faced with massive frustration in trying to gain his freedom doesn't help. His owner forces him to take drugs that increase this in him as well. He has no problem asserting his dominance over others.

*'''Addiction''' In order to control his slaves his owner forces drugs on them until they are dependent upon their usage. They also tend to cause or precipitate existing flaws. Such as aggression, paranoia, and the feeling of being invincible. Add to the fact that it increases strength and stamina makes it the drug of choice to force upon him. Without it S'imba is forced through massive withdrawal that causes severe and unbearable that try as he might forces him to return to his owner.

=== <span style="font-size:medium;">'''''<u>Fears</u>'''''</span> ===

*Being forcibly experimented on again.
*Forced Cannibalism

=== <span style="font-size:medium;">'''''<u>Talents</u>'''''</span> ===

*'''Resourceful''' Despite regularly getting in over his head. S'imba can quickly adapt and change tactics. He uses the making it up as you go method for most of his plans.

*'''Determination''' S'imba has a never give up attitude. If one of his friends is threatened he will give everything he has to help them. Even if he's hopelessly outnumbered with little chance of victory he will still refuse to back up or back down. It's how he was taught to fight in the ring so it's really the only way he knows.

=== <span style="font-size:medium;">'''''<u>Intelligence</u>'''''</span> ===

=== <span style="font-size:medium;">'''''<u>Comparisons</u>'''''</span> ===

=Abilities/Skills=

=== '''''<u>Personal</u>''''' ===

*Like all Miqo'te he has naturally heightened reflexes and cat like instincts. This serves him well in the ring as it gives it has ensured he has survived matches against opponents that should have killed him.

*Due to his owner using drugs that gives him enhanced abilities such as improved speed, strength, and agility. It also gives him a strange resilience to poisons and his ability to metabolize them. This also gives him the ability to metabolize alcohol at a rapid rate giving the impression that he can really hold his drink. Though these abilities come with a huge drawback the drugs are highly addictive and cause him to go through intolerable withdrawals that cause complete cramping of his body and cloud his mind so he can't even think straight. This effectively ensures he doesn't run away again and keeps him in Thanalan.

*Several months ago S'imba was informed that he had a so called 'gift' known as the echo. Though he doesn't agree with this statement all of the time. It was because of this 'gift' that he was chosen to be experimented on and turned into a weapon. Thanks to it he was able to survive the experiments without the corruption and mutation that was prevalent among the other subjects. It is why he has been able to survive this long without dying. Despite this fact, inside he feels more disappointment at the fact that the possibility that his accomplishments aren't due to his own strength but due to this 'gift'. He made progress in learning of what it was from his brother, Rhyder which they both came to find out that they had a connection with it. This connection made them both stronger when they were in close proximity with each other, they also were able to know where the other was even when separated by long distances. It let them both share their strengths with the other. Though after Rhyder was killed in a battle when he sacrificed himself to kill a mighty dragon, the connection was severed and left a feeling of a hole torn inside him. Though it has begun to heal itself and let him finally begin to recover. With all of these experiences behind him now he has finally started to accept the fact that he has it. Though he still is highly uncomfortable about sharing the fact that he has it with other people unless he really trusts them. The biggest reason behind this fear is due to people who knows he has it using him in order to take advantage of it for their own purposes. Several times in order to cause him to have a vision to learn some piece of information, he'd be taken to a location and placed under 'physical distress'. Though it was a traumatizing experience for him it was nothing compared to his friends starting to only see him as his 'gift' and not just S'imba, going so far as to give him the moniker echo-boy. Though after recent events people have finally given him space and no longer see him as a novelty to be taken advantage of.
<br />

=== '''''<u>Weapons</u>''''' ===

*His primary fighting skills is knife fighting, his father originally trained him since he was old enough to use one. Though his father never intended him to actually use those skills in a combat scenario as he saw it as a way to build discipline. After he was sold into slavery and tossed into the pits he developed a flashy fighting style that would be effective and at the same time excite the crowds. His skill with knives earned him the name 'cutthroat' in the arena partially in reference to the fictitious background the slavers created for him.

*He is also is skilled in hand to hand fighting. He trained in the Pugilist's guild under Master Hammon the holy fist, he quickly mastered the skills until they set him to train on his own. Eventually after he joined the order of the compass, he would be trained by a pair of monks. Although their lessons seemed to differ in ideology S'imba still learned a tremendous amount of skill. While Zedd taught him the more aggressive skills, Shark focused on the more spiritual aspect of working to open his Chakras and focus his inner energy. This not only benefited the hand to hand skills but with the spiritual training it affected him on every level of his life.

=== '''''<u>Magic</u>''''' ===

*After several months of experimentaion on him by a dangerous and powerful summoner; who intended to turn S'imba into his ultimate weapon. S'imba was given several different elemental based magical abilities. These tend to be difficult to control and it is only because of his studies under a monk that he hasn't lost control of them altogether. It has caused other problems as well due to the fact that despite the summoner being defeated ther are plenty of others that wish to continue the project. As such several different organizations have placed high bounties on his head in an attempt to apprehend and use them for their own purposes.

*Several months ago S'imba came into the possession of a soulstone, later it would come to life giving him the powers of a dark knight. Though it took him a long time to actually be willing to use them he is exceptionally powerful due to how much his emotion drives him, now they are developing further he has less and less fear of using these powers and has used them to great effect. Able to match the skills of individuals such as Sven Volkorus, a highly skilled black mage and Tai Aubade an extremely powerful Scholar of Nym.

=== '''''<u>Crafting</u>''''' ===

*

=Background=

==== <span style="font-size:larger;">''<span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;">Birth and childhood (0-10)</span></span>''</span> ====

==== <span style="font-size:larger;">''<span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;">Teen Years</span></span>''</span> ====
: As he grew S'imba never had any idea of him being adopted. In fact all he believed that though he was born looking a little different from his brother, he thought he was a Hyur just like the rest of his family. Due to his heritage and natural abilities that being a Miqo'te brought he was a natural at hunting and the other skills needed to live away from any type of city, he begin to outshine his brother and unfortunately due to his fathers heritage as a great warrior seemed to give slightly more affection towards S'imba than his real son. Slowly his brothers Jealousy began to grow.

When S'imba turned fourteen his bother had finally had enough he left the house one night intent on running away to find the lands his father had spoken about and had sometimes visited to buy supplies for their home. As he had never left home before he just wandered until he found a small town. It was a pirate town full of cutthroats and other lowlives. While he was here he discovered that S'imba was not a Hyur he was a separate race and based on the drunkenness of the sailors was a member of a savage race. While he was there he learned of money and what it could get you in life. One evening he saw some slavers dealing Miqo'te and overheard how much they were worth on the market. He walked over curious as the maliciousness grew even more in his heart, and made a deal with them that night and formed the plot in his mind.

The next day he returned home on his way he was faced by a wild coural and was nearly killed by it had S'imba not found him just in time to rescue him. As they walked back to their house they talked and S'imba asked him where he had gone. His brother told him part of the truth and that he had visited some of the places their father talked about, though he expressed his worry about what their father was going to do to him when they returned to him. They both couldn't help but feel their great love for each other at that moment. When they got home and his brother was asked where he had gone to S'imba jumped in and said that he had gotten lost and that he had saved him from a courel. At this moment his brother nearly changed his mind about his plans until his father praised S'imba for his skill and bravery and condemned his true son for his recklessness and cowardess. He went to his room and completed his plan.

A few weeks later he went and found S'imba and told him that their father was finally letting them go to town and that they were to take one of their chocobo's to sell. With great excitement S'imba chased after him and they were on their way to town. When they finally arrived there was so much to take in the smells the life everything. They stopped to eat for lunch as his brother thought it was fit that they should share one last meal together. After a delicious meal in the tropical sun and much laughter they went down to the docks where they were supposed to meet the buyers of the chocobo. When they arrived the buyers smiled and said a "fine beast may we examine him further?" his brother motioned to S'imba and he walked the chocobo over to them. When he held out the reins of the bird he was surprised when a few of the men grabbed him and started examining him ripping off his shirt and stripping him down to his small clothes they examined him carefully looking for any defects they could find. S'imba struggled as best he could as the stronger men placed him in chains and the leader laughs out "A fine specimen, never seen one like him." he said as he threw a large sack of gil to his brother. Catching the bag he met S'imba's eyes as they drug him onto the ship and said to him "I'm sorry brother..." he said before turning around and heading away.

After they had secured their cargo S'imba felt rocking of the ship and was crushed by the feelings of what had just happened and cried the entire time he was on the ship. Finally the light to the hatch was opened and he was drug out into the hot desert sun. After a long day of travel he was brought to a camp and was re-examined and appraised afterwards they branded a number into his back and wrote up several pages of paperwork to document him. Next he was rushed off to the markets where potential buyers gave him the same rough examination over and over for what felt like days.

The man who bought him intended to turn him into a prize fighter in the bloodsands, for years he was put through unmerciful and brutal training. His master saw him as an ideal specimen, as if the seeker had been bred for being a fighter. The man spared no expense at creating his prize fighter. Trainers were hired, gladiators, mercenaries, and bounty hunters were just a few of the examples of those who were hired. Alchemists and culinarians would be paid to create food designed to make a diet to make the most Miqo'te's nutritional needs and development. Though the result was far from anything desirable to eat. It had the appearance, taste, and consistency of dog food. The slavers would add insult to injury by serving it to him in a dog dish, keeping him chained down on his hands and knees and forcing him to eat it like he was an animal. Though it was part of a psychological game of trying to turn the seeker "feral". They wanted to create the image of some wild child that had been raised by couerls and the only spot in society was to be fought for sport. Keeping him in a cage whenever he wasn't training, parading him around on a leash, and demeaning him were just a few of the techniques they used. Slowly he would succumb to their efforts. Though he could still speak he would have a great amount of growls and snarls to his speech and fighting style. He would walk more with a hunch, as if he were somewhere between walking on all fours and being bipedal. Training would consist of being beaten until he could fight back. Forcing him to keep going until he collapsed, then being expected to stand back up and keep going. Then afterwards he would be tossed into his cage for a little reprieve from the intense training. He'd feel the bite of the whip whenever he set one toe out of line, although several times they just strung him up to give him a beating just cause the slavers were bored. Though he would never lose the rebellious and prideful attitude, he reached a point where a good lashing would leave him in a submissive and obedient state for quite some time, that still continues to this day.

After several years of training he was finally ready for his first match. However on the eve of the fight a group of adventurers would show up kill his handler and sneak him out of the city of Ul'dah. For the first time in years he had hope of leaving that hell behind him. Though when he didn't show up for his match his owner would be thrown into a blinding rage, intending to have S'imba drug back to Ul'dah and brought before him in chains, as well as have those who dared steal from him killed in the most brutal fashion he could imagine, and with that he sent out the bounty hunters.
==== <span style="font-size:larger;">''<span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-size:small;">Adulthood</span></span>''</span> ====
: '''Runaway'''
S'imba looked to the other adventurers he had just crossed high bridge. The first one was a Highlander and a sultansworn. He wasn't a part of the group he had joined because he had over heard the talk of the rest of the group and sworn to see S'imba free. The next member was a Midlander Black Mage she was well versed in magic and had explored the deeper depths of the void. Next was the Keeper White mage though she was new to healing she was rather adapt at the healing magics. Finally the Roe monk he had taken to teaching S'imba to fight so he could defend himself if needed. Despite S'imba saying he never wanted to kill anyone. "Never forget that." The monk would say. "The time may come when you have no choice but to defend yourself and take a life. That thought will be what will keep you who you are." S'imba would nod not knowing what the monk fully meant. Shortly after they crossed the bridge and were on the final stretch to the shroud they came upon a Roe in a suit standing in the middle of the road with a dark smile on his face. The Sultansworn nodded to him but as he tried to pass the Roe blocked his path staring at S'imba. "Why do you block our path?" The paladin would ask. "What is it you want?" The Roe simply pointed at S'imba, the paladin would then draw his sword the Roe would reach forth and snap the Highlander's neck. Immediately the monk would jump forth striking the Roe with everything he had. The Roe would not even flinch however and without ever losing his smile punched him in the stomach then brought an elbow down on his neck. Next he went for the Keeper all he would do to her is throw her against a nearby rock where she would lay dead. Finally all that was left between S'imba and the Roe was the black mage despite her unloading her fire on him he just keep walking and placing his hands on her head crushed the life out of her. At last turning his head on S'imba who had been watching in horror tried to run away but the Roe was faster. He caught S'imba he fought back with everything he had but was just as ineffective as everyone else's. Grabbing hold of S'imba he lashed his hands together in front with rope and peaveing plenty of tail on it so he could pull him along. "Come" he would finally saysay giving a firm tug on the rope dragging S'imba forward and onto his stomach started dragging him along. Quickly scrambling to his feet he followed along tears in his eyes feeling guilt over the loss over his new friends as the Roe drug him back to Ul'dah at a rapid pace never giving S'imba a chance to rest.

=Rumors=
== Rumors ==

<span style="font-size:smaller;">Note: This section is editable by anyone. Just keep in mind that the rumors here may be both true or false.</span>
::* "Is villing to do anything to protect people he cares for, even vhen can go no further. Can respect that." - [[Alexei Volkov]]
::* "A good kid, but I truly wonder why he still lives under someone else's rule. Mayhap, he can break free one day." - [[Aerostein Epitaph]]
::* "S'imba? ....I-Is he in trouble again?! ....O' Warden, If only I could keep my eyes on him all the time.." - [[Mylene Wharf]]
::* "He hangs around all the time, and sure loves his ale. And can take the Qiqirn Firewater like no one else! He never seems quite all there, though, you know?" - [[Aya Foxheart]]
::* "I swear this Cat is injured every time I see him. How is he not a walking bruise at this point?" - [[Coatleque Crofte]]
::*"We both been through some hard lives with violence, maybe that's the reason we're still friends even after that battle in Gridania. I think sometimes however I'm more brotherly to him than Vash." - '''[[Aaron Glacier]]'''
::* "I think he just really hates shirts. Maybe he's allergic to cotton." - [[Natalie Mcbeef]]
::* "Pretty sure he's done some beastmen a few favors by... 'licking' their aetherytes. I don't even know." - [[Oscare Iono]]
::* "Got into a bit of trouble with us once. It's fine. I remember getting into quite a bit of trouble myself." - [[Berrod Armstrong]]
::* "He may be small and fight near naked; but he fights like a cornered honey badger." [[Tiorq Ghoti]]
::* "I overheard that he has a bounty on his head. Looks like some real dangerous people are on the hunt. Were I a bit more confident in the field, I'd be lunging at the opportunity as well." - '''[[Atoli Taira]]'''
::* "S'imba's a good guy. He really goes out of his way to help people. He's the reason I'm probably still alive." - [[K'washi Amada]]
::* "H-He has been through a-a lot... b-been through many ordeals... b-but in the end, h-he is still a great man..." - [[Leah Carsen]]
::* "Imba is stronger than he thinks. Or mayhap he not think over his actions all that often." *purrs* - [[X'cinna Ares]]
::* "I honestly sometimes can't believe he is still alive. Maybe Hydaelyn likes to watch him suffer? Though sometimes he ''does'' manage to impress, I suppose..." - [[Anstarra Silverain]]

=Relationships=
== Family and Relationships ==
<p style="text-align: center;"><u>DISCLAIMER</u><br/><br/><br/><u>All what is written here bears absolutely no OOC feelings, and may be subject to change as the story develops. If your name doesn't appear in this list, I have probably forgotten, or my character just doesn't remember you. Please do not use these information to affect you ICly or mess with my character's feelings. Use of OOC information will be flagged as god-moding and I will not react to it ICly if I feel this is what you're doing.</u></p>
=== <span style="font-size:medium;">'''''<u>Relatives</u>'''''</span> ===

Unknown.
*'''[[Vash Ashford]]''' ''Adopted Brother'' Another of S'imba's friends that was the result of a bar fight. When he found out S'imba was a slave fighting in pit fights he took interest in S'imba and vowed to see him free of his chains. It wasn't until later that he told S'imba that he too used to be a slave who broke free of his own chains several years prior. Because of this S'imba is able to look up to him as an older brother who understands what S'imba is going through. If it wasn't for his persistent worry over S'imba he would more than likely lose himself for good. Vash has even gone so far as to convince S'imba to let him be taken back into bondage after S'imba told him how lonely and hopeless he felt whenever he had to be alone when he was chained and caged. Though S'imba still isn't comfortable with the idea of Vash doing this for him the very thought of it gives him hope that he won't be alone in all this much longer, although S'imba has procrastinated this because the thought of seeing Vash in chains after escaping once combined with how hopeless he feels about it even being possible to escape causes him to feel like he is asking to much of the man.

*'''[[Sven Volkorus]]''' ''Adopted Father'' The first time S'imba encountered this black mage he appeared to be a friendly, charming, and adventurous individual. However as S'imba looked into his eyes he could feel nothing but sheer terror of the man, despite this S'imba put it in the back of his mind even after witnessing his obsession with power as S'imba and Arvic stood beside him while Nanarou dueled another black mage. After S'imba joined the Order of the Compass he called for his help out of desperation when one of S'imba's friends was under the control of his owner by some form of mind control. Sven told him he was more than willing to help to free her from the power that controlled her provided he receive "payment" for the task. S'imba agreed desperate to help his friend during the process when he was breaking the curse S'imba witnessed the pleasure he took in the pain and suffering of others and couldn't help but wonder what kind of person Sven truly was. Afterwards he met with S'imba to discuss the payment which though seemingly insignificant S'imba would come to regret. A short time later S'imba met several other members of the Order where they told him about who Sven truly was and their conspiracy against him, in a panic S'imba revealed his debt to the others which resulted in Nanarou and Arvic (who was out of he loop of what was going on) kidnapping him. They took him back to the Orders headquarters where Nanarou was in the process of explaining what was going on when Sven arrived on scene. S'imba had no idea why but Sven was furious with him for betraying him. Nanarou left the room while Arvic stayed behind despite Nanarou's protests, he could only watch as Sven gathered aether into his hands before grabbing S'imba by the chest and torturing him as he burned a set of runes into it which would cause him to relive the experience anytime he did anything contrary to Sven's will. It was finally at this point that S'imba realized what his payment was and found himself a slave to a second master. Eventually Sven was defeated though the company decided to spare the mage's life. Eventually the mage was freed from prison and rehabilitated, though no one in the company trusted the mage. After a talking to him one evening S'imba realized that the man did have a genuine desire to change. After a long series of events Sven did slowly start to change, leading to a change of heart in which Sven started to actually care about S'imba. At one point they became mentally connected leading them both to experience events in each others lives that brought a new understanding for each other. Sven continued to improve until slowly he started to give a damn about people. Which very slowly cause Sven and S'imba to form a father and son type relationship. Which led to Sven naming S'imba heir to his family's legacy, intending to make S'imba the next to become the next in line of his family's legacy of black mages. Though Sven would eventually become a vassal to a dragon putting severe strain on this relationship, to the point that he felt Sven only saw S'imba useful as the echo-boy. Despite this when the time finally came S'imba joined in the battle against his dragon master that after a fierce battle that cost Rhyder his life, Sven lost the entirety of his memory. Forcing S'imba to step up as leader of the company only made harder by his father being unable to provide him any help in this task, let alone even recognize S'imba. Sven did eventually regain his memory and things were finally slowly getting back to normal, when one evening everything fell apart and Sven intending to leave forever went to Dravania and drank dragon's blood before he was hunted down and killed by K'ora. Though through some forbidden magic and the connection that S'imba and Sven shared led to Sven being brought back in the body of a female Au Ra. Despite this S'imba feels the man is now trapped in an eternal hell that there is no escape from, which has only caused the young Miqo'te to blame himself for the harsh words that had driven Sven off in the first place.

=== <br/><u>'''''<span style="font-size:medium;">Positive</span>'''''</u> ===

*'''[[Aaron Glacier]]''' While he had originally met Aaron through the pumpkin it wasn't until he found out that he had nearly killed another of S'imba's friends due to him being in possession of a cursed sword that had possessed him. One of S'imba's friends who was hunting a bounty on the man challenged him to a fight. The bounty hunter made S'imba promise to finish Aaron if he failed. As S'imba watched them fight it took everything he had not to jump in and do the job himself. His mindset reverting to his pit fighting instincts he took all his drug he had pushing him into a state of a crazed animal. His ability to even feel pain was completely blocked and his body was pushed to it's absolute limits. He rushed in right as Aaron was about to finish his friend. S'imba jumped in between the pair. Both blinded to everything except the seething loathing towards they clashed. The drugs allowed S'imba to fight on an even level as the incredibly powerful voidsent enhanced Hyur. Despite these enhancements it was still a difficult battle and nearly cost S'imba his life. Due to Aaron wielding the massive sword with one hand as if it weighed nothing. He struck at S'imba with heavy blows that the Miqo'te was barely able to parry. The only thing that kept S'imba alive was his speed and agility. With Aaron distracted it gave the other three mages a chance to stop them both. Despite them being incredibly skilled mages it took the combined efforts of Dev, Aerostein, and Dresden to over come the fighting pairs respective enhancements and put them to sleep. After this and they were returned to their proper state of mind they became much more civil with each other. After several other misadventures including a journey into a cave of pirates with crazy Fab S'imba has come to see Aaron as a friend though S'imba has taken to tormenting the man...going so far as to sick Towering Falcon on him.

*'''[[Aerostein Epitaph]]''' When S'imba was cursed Aerostein risked his own life to heal him. He is also another of Gus Pumpkinweed's model who S'imba sees as a rival. The man knows exactly how to get on S'imba's nerves and gets highly annoyed when he refers to him as a child. However he has healed S'imba on several other occasions led S'imba to tell him his history when Aero inquired about his past.

*'''[[Arvic Ryne]]''' Shared a drink with Arvic in the Quicksand one night while they were talking Nanarou jumped in between them both, which was coincidentally when he met her as well. Despite Nanarou belittling S'imba; Arvic became his friend. Arvic is one of the individuals who encourages S'imba to continue fighting for his freedom, and helped him by finding out what the ingredients were for the drugs that control S'imba.

*'''[[Charlotte Tiln]]''' S'imba met Charlotte after she rescued him from her brother Siegfried. While initially he didn't trust her when he found out who her family was after she helped him deal with the crushing feelings he was having about being torn away from his home, she quickly become someone he relies on for emotional support. Though he soon found out about how much she was dealing with herself he did everything he could to allow her to get rested from her troubles. He does harbor feelings for her but knows she doesn't reciprocate them.

*'''[[K'ihta Zajhiri|Kiht'a Zajhiri]]''' S'imba first met the Keeper in the quicksand and quickly became fast friends. He told S'imba about his unfortunate time with his tribe where he had been abused and sent on suicide missions. S'imba quickly felt that Khit'a had gone through far more suffering than himself and needed a brother to help him build up a proper family to support him. S'imba helped give him advice on black magic based on his own experiences with it. Though things really came to a head when Kiht'a told S'imba about a dream he had. S'imba applying "S'imba logic" figured it had to have been some divine premonition and that they had to investigate it. S'imba then went to Khit'a's tribe and posing as a couerlclaw slave he managed to get an audience with their leader. They told him a story of Kiht'a's past and his connection with the Garleans and that they wanted to use him to be experimented on but his mother ended up convincing them to take her instead. Later Kiht'a told S'imba that the Garleans had attacked him and the man he was courting. S'imba figured the best idea would be to go ask the tribe for further details, Kiht'a followed along as well and the two discovered that the Garleans had built an outpost on top of where Kiht'a's tribe had been. The pair ended up sneaking in, though they ended up setting off an alarm. They did their best to escape the way they came but ended up in some sort of laboratory, where to their horror they saw an army of Miqo'te in strange tubes that had been brutally ripped apart and had magitech grafted to them after being experimented on. The worst was when Kiht'a found his mother despite her barely resembling who she originally was. That was when the man behind the experiments showed himself. After a short battle that left S'imba with broken ribs after the man revealed that he had applied his own research to himself. With little other choice S'imba told the man about the experiments that had been preformed on himself going so far to exaggerate everything, trying to intimidate him into thinking he was facing some sort of primal in a mortal form. Though Grendt didn't believe him, he did take an interest in S'imba in wanting to know more about them. He informed the pair that it didn't matter who they were but they would soon refer to him as father. Kiht'a managed to teleport the pair out of there and back to Ul'dah. After getting him back to safety Kiht'a made sure to get S'imba healed. S'imba wanted to make plans to go back but Kiht'a wisely pointed out that S'imba had made himself a target and they would come for him now too. S'imba refused to believe this however and entered a state of denial. This led to him going back to the outpost and sneaking in alone. S'imba discovered Grendt testing out Kiht'a's mother. S'imba was discovered by her and tried to escape. However they set of the "Miqo'te whistle" that would let out a sound at a frequency similar to a dog whistle which would cause a Miqo'te excruciating agony. S'imba was quickly subdued and apprehended by Kiht'a's mother where he was then strapped to a wall and Grendt began his research. After torture S'imba was left with a helmet on him that would stimulate every trauma he had ever experienced at once. S'imba nearly broke at this point, but in a enormous turn of events Kiht'a had followed S'imba when he didn't answer the linkshell. The little keeper managed to cut the power and free S'imba from his bonds. Though Kiht'a's mother stepped into stop them. At this point S'imba was completely powerless, only dead weight on Kiht'a. Using his resourceful nature Kiht'a broke out a window and using his ninja abilities got the pair safely to the ground below. Kiht'a once again took S'imba home and helped nurse him back to health. Despite this S'imba still doesn't believe he is in any danger from the Garleans and that they still had their eyes set on Kiht'a.

*'''[[K'washi Amada]]''' A member of the Lynxfangs. Though their initial interactions were anything but friendly, with S'imba pulling a knife on him and K'washi greeting S'imba by calling him Chieftan of issues. (Which S'imba didn't catch due to K'washi writing it, so S'imba missed it entirely.) Despite this their relationship vastly improved after S'imba was captured and brutally tortured by the Ishgardians and the Elezen known as Charles Locke to the point that S'imba became so emotionally traumatized to the point he could no longer speak. Through a conversation that was mostly the pair simply miming K'washi was able to help S'imba learn how to express himself. S'imba also has a newfound respect for the seeker realizing the struggles he's had to learn to deal with.

*'''[[Leah Carsen]]''' S'imba met Leah through the Lynxfangs, the two would eventually become friends and develop an attraction for each other. He helped her research a void related intruder in her room, and was later attacked by a black robed mage. S'imba and K'washi were able to drive the mage off by giving him several wounds. S'imba took up a point of protecting her from the man planning to hide below his notice as some insignificant ragamuffin. Despite this she would attack again late one night and S'imba was able to break through his magic barrier thanks to his anti-magic daggers and give the mage an x-shaped scar on the man's chest which caused the mage to swear to kill S'imba. After Leah joined up with the Wandering Tonberries, S'imba fought alongside them when the mage showed up and attacked. Thanks to S'imba's daggers he was able to severely wound the mage who then declared he would be sure that S'imba would die in the most painful way possible. With this victory they were given a small break from the mage, though S'imba would later encounter another mage that was allied with the mage, who showed up to see the man who was able to cause so much injury to her ally. She left S'imba alone for the time but it was this revelation that caused S'imba great horror which lead to him and Leah seeking out a more effective way of fighting these beings.
*'''[[Nihka Mioni]]''' In S'imba's mind Nihka is Menphina herself. Her kindness is endless, her caring is unmatched. Completely selfless in his eyes he could only define her as the perfect keeper. When he first became a keeper he had it in his head that males were kept in keeper cages for breeding. With endless patience and perseverance Nihka managed to cast these doubts aside and helped S'imba come to terms about living life as a keeper. She's healed him on numerous occasions and has the empathy to heal even his deepest self doubts. She's become familiar with his exploits and it's entirely possible that when he does something stupid she instantly responds no matter where she is with. "...S'imba..."
*'''[[Mylene Wharf]]''' S'imba first met Mylene while he was recovering from being tortured by Siegfried Tiln. She helped patch him up and comfort him as well as helped him out on several other occasions. The two have become close friends despite the trials that seem to plague their friendship. She's another individual who is like a big sister to S'imba constantly worrying about his well being leading to S'imba to -try- and hide when he is in trouble out of concern of worrying her though she usually gets the truth out of him which leads to a prompt scolding for lying to her. In a recent trip to Coerthas in which S'imba had planned to kill a dragon he ran into Mylene, K'hoshi, and Raikimi who were on vacation. After S'imba's lie fell apart as to why he was their Mylene and K'hoshi followed him to the Stone Vigil not willing to let S'imba face a dragon alone. They found the dragon and despite all odds they managed to defeat the beast thanks to Mylene shooting one of the dragon's eyes out, K'hoshi's uncanny ability to keep the dragon's attention on himself, and a aetherically charged S'imba from Sven Volkorus experimenting on him. Though Mylene and K'hoshi were badly injured as they were returning to town a group of Elezen approached the group and arrested S'imba leaving the pair in the snow. After several days in the gaol S'imba managed to escape their custody however he has no idea what happened to the two and is desperately trying to contact her to find out her condition and to let her know that he is safe as he knows if she survived she would be worried sick.

*'''[[Nanarou Garnin]]''' Despite their rocky start in which S'imba was informed he was a "Mangy Cat" she always seemed to be around when he got into trouble. Eventually when S'imba was crushed by his emotions and was in the process of killing another Miqo'te she showed up just in time and snapped him out of it. After comforting him she started over by inviting him to join her free company "Order of the Compass" Which she told him was the very representation of being free. Since that was his dream he jumped on board and now she keeps an eye on him making sure he controls his temper and keeping him out of trouble, even though she has that annoying tendency to show up whenever he was ready to get into some kind of trouble. Recently however he ran into some other members of his company in the quicksand where they were talking about their leader Sven and the evil he actually represented. See tried to warn S'imba to leave and eventually ended up abducting him to protect him. Though after she took him to the house and Sven showed up to punish him for his betrayal she ran away. He has not seen her since but despite her actions S'imba still trusts her.

*'''[[Reina Dancer]]''' The first time S'imba met the woman it ended with him earning her hatred and an arrow through his thigh. After escaping prison he ran into her in a distraught state having just called things off with her fiancee. She was drunk and let him talk to her a little bit, due to having similar experiences that they both suffered through slavery she softened up towards him. Later events would occur which led to them being handcuffed together and lost in the shroud, which led to highly awkward situations, including him having to pee infront of him. She teased him endlessly by threatening to touch, eventually he panicked and tried to pull away and to both of their horror she ended up getting a handful of S'imba. After these awkward adventures they became friends causing both of them to start to have feelings towards each other. These feelings would continue to develop, though it took S'imba a long time to get over the fear that he might hurt her if he were to date her, eventually he could ignore his feelings any longer and decided to ask her to date him. She was thrilled at him finally coming out of his shell. She can see through the lies that S'imba tells himself, that he's perfectly fine, that he isn't bothered by his past. She manages to find these hurts that he's buried deep in himself and bring them out so he has to confront them head on. Despite her past returning and nearly costing S'imba his life he still continues to stand by her and love her. Their relationship developing to the point that there is no challenge that they wouldn't face in order to protect the other.

*'''[[R'elend Tia]]''' Another individual that started out as one of S'imba's enemies. S'imba met the Brass Blade around the time he was accused of being a scion causing S'imba to see him as a symbol of the hell he was placed in. S'imba would try and punch R'elend every chance he had as a way to vent his frustration. Though one night S'imba beat the Blade to death which despite the cheers of the people present at the quicksand jeering that R'elend got what he deserved, S'imba panicked and did whatever he could to keep the Blade alive, going so far as to preform mouth to mouth on the Seeker. By some miracle the Blade made it through the ordeal alive. Though their relationship didn't improve after that for a long time, S'imba would eventually discover that he an actual heart underneath a mountain of bitterness. He also discovered that it was thanks to R'elend that he was able to keep out of prison during the crisis. S'imba decided that R'elend needed someone to be nice to him, though S'imba still causes him trouble by calling him dad. R'elend also tries to help S'imba straighten up, though his methods are questionable. R'elend has an assistant that keeps trying to convince R'elend to help S'imba by making him some sort of pet. To S'imba's relief R'elend didn't decide to take that route.

*'''[[S'vett Tia]]''' S'imba met S'vett when S'imba was in the process of trying to kill Siegfried. At the behest of Mylene Wharf S'vett tried to stop S'imba while he was attacking Siegfried, despite being thrown off when he tried to tackle S'imba he jumped back into the fray pulling back on S'imba's collar until Nanarou showed up and snapped S'imba out of it. A few days later S'vett approached S'imba in the bar where they became friends after S'vett decided to help S'imba learn about where he comes from. Despite S'vett saying he's not a great warrior for his fear of big monsters, S'imba believes that he's got the "right stuff" and intends to fix that by putting him face to face with a Morbol though he doesn't know how S'vett feels about that.

*'''[[X'khai Tia]]''' S'imba once shared an ale with Khai who told S'imba about his vision of a tribe that brought together the outcasts of Seekers and Keepers who had no other family to go to. This vision came to pass when he invited S'imba to the founding meeting of the Lynxfang pride. By the end of the meeting S'imba found himself in a position of authority under grand chieftain K'hai as the council chief of the warrior. S'imba took the position very seriously making sure that all members were protected when they faced any of many various dangers. After a brief stay in prison S'imba got out to find that there were funny happenings going on in the pride. For one he had no idea where Khai was then one evening in the quicksand S'imba ran into an individual known as Sig (who was in actuality Khai.) The cloaked figure told S'imba that the council chief of the hunt Sae had murdered Khai and that he needed to die. The only flaw in this plan was that Sae had come to S'imba before and told him about a plot on his life. Due to this S'imba believed that this was somehow connected to the plot and decided he needed to find Sae and investigate further. However Sae has seemed to have disappeared as well and it is only been made more difficult with S'imba going into hiding himself.

*'''[[X'tai Tia]]''' Tai was only aquatinted with S'imba for a long while. That was until after Tai was in the same room together with a man by the name Sator. S'imba tactfully suggested that Tai and Sator "Go enjoy have a rousing session of coitus." Next time S'imba saw the pair they were a happy couple which made S'imba extremely happy. Though sometime after this Sator's brother Shade; who had been experimenting heavily on S'imba and was now under his complete control ordered S'imba to kill Sator and Tai. Though through the intervention of the powerful mage K'ora Tia they were able to stop S'imba's rampage without further casualties added to it. After this Tai had no trust towards S'imba at least until the pair went to rescue a young Miqo'te by the name of K'ovu. After this the two have seemingly rebuilt their friendship. Though due to Tai's scientific and inquisitive nature the temptation to resume Shade's research will always be there in the form of S'imba.

=== <br/><u>'''''<span style="font-size:medium;">Neutral</span>'''''</u> ===
*
=== <br/><u>'''''<span style="font-size:medium;">Negative</span>'''''</u> ===

*'''[[Siegfried Tiln]]''' Siegfried was one of S'imba's friends and someone he looked up to. However after Siegfried received a tip that S'imba had information on his goals he drugged S'imba which after he woke up found himself tied up. Siegfried then proceeded to torture him for this information which he had no idea what he was talking about, after hours of pain at Siegfried's brutal torture he found himself ready to give up all hope when Charlotte Tiln jumped out and attacked Siegfried saving S'imba. Later he approached S'imba after which S'imba's anger taking control of him proceeded to beat him him with the intent of killing him. After injuring several bystanders attempting to stop him S'imba was finally snapped out of his rage by Nanarou Garnin.

*'''[[Charles Locke]]''' When S'imba first met the charming Elezen it didn't take him long to realize the sociopathic nature of the man. Partially because the Elezen kidnapped S'imba and tied him to a bed in the infirmary after he suspected S'imba had information he was curious about. S'imba earned his ire when he did the one thing that could actually get under the Elezen's skin by biting him. Despite his pleas to everyone else no one seemed to believe him about who Charles truly was. Though eventually others would come to see the truth about him, Charles had managed to bring great harm to the free company. Once he had been revealed as a monster to the rest of the company Charles fled and wasn't seen for a long time. He eventually showed his face again after S'imba kicked one of his lalafell slavers across a room. The slavers hired Charles to track S'imba down and return him to their custody, as well as punish him for his disobedience. Charles was easily able to find and apprehend S'imba as he was preparing to go to X'tai and Rhyder's eternal bonding. The Elezen took S'imba back to Ul'dah where after having him be tortured physically decided to subject the young seeker to psychological torture as well. Dragging in a pair of what was seen as useless slaves S'imba was forced to watch as Charles skinned them alive and then subjected S'imba to forced canabalism. It was this event that lead to S'imba being unable to even speak a single word for a long time, and blocking most of the ordeal from his mind. Once his friends found out about what had happened they finally hunted Charles down which ended up with Charles being losing his head, robbing S'imba of the opportunity to take revenge on the man who had made so much of his recent history a living hell.

*'''[[Samantha Goldsmith]]''' S'imba first met this woman when Tai introduced her as his mate. S'imba didn't approve of her dating his brother, especially after seeing how she tended to treat Tai. When she and Tai had a falling out she tried to ruin his life. Part of that was placing an enormous bounty on S'imba's head. The last time S'imba saw the woman he was in the alleys of Ul'dah talking with Gunnbjorn when the two suddenly found themselves surrounded by bounty hunters. She stepped out from behind the group and ordered the hunters to kill Gunn and wound S'imba before then deliver him to her estate. Fortunately S'imba and Gunn were able to defend themselves and talk their way out of the situation. Even if the leader of the group warned S'imba not to leave Ul'dah or else he'd Holmgang S'imba's ass and stuff him in a box. Despite this S'imba has not encountered the woman since then, though he always fears that someone will come for that bounty and he'll end up at her estate for who knows what purpose.
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<font style="color:#FA70BC;" size="3">♥</font>'''Person A:''' ''A blurb about a person.''
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<font style="color:#9EC60B;" size="3">●</font>'''Person B:''' ''A blurb about a person.''

=Notable Events=
''Dates are included mostly for me so I can keep track of things. However, feel free to use them as references for character journals.''

''Notable events are divided into arcs, so that you can easily find new info on each arc.''

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Order of the Compass
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One night at the quicksand S'imba was hanging out in his spot on the floor when a female Lalafell approached him and started to harass him about being a "cat-boy" who was only out looking to breed. When S'imba asked why she hated Miqo'te she responded with "There are too many of ye." After a few minutes of this she ran off to speak to a Sultansworn. At this point S'imba went over to the bar where he met Arvic. While they were sharing stories the Lalafell returned to terrorize
S'imba some more and she mounted herself on the stool between the pair. While she continued to rip S'imba a new one her mentor showed up and sat at the other side of him where they both properly introduced themselves as black mages, the Hyur was named Sven Voulkas and the Lalafell was Nanarou Garnin. After Arvic and S'imba spoke with them for a while until they all needed to leave for one reason or another.

S'imba ran in Nanarou several times after that usually while he was in the middle of some scene scene or another which she never failed to take a detour of whatever she may be doing at the time to go tell him what she thought of him. Eventually he ran into her arguing with another black mage which ended up with him following them out of the city so they could duel. S'imba watched the duel alongside Arvic and Sven as the pair showed off their great display of power which led to Nanarou summoning meteor. While S'imba looked on in awe at the fight he couldn't help but notice that there was something off about Sven and what appeared to be bloodlust in his eye.

Sometime later the night that Siegfried returned to see S'imba after he had tortured him. S'imba noticed Nanarou in the bar already filled with absolute hatred of the man in front of him seeing her and knowing that he was about to receive more of her abuse pushed him over the edge he didn't notice her leave but during his absence he completely lost it and started beating the hell out of Siegfried. During the fight when he had just about killed him she returned and yelled out to him as her voice was the only one in the crowd he recognized she was the one that was finally able to snap him out of it. She led him out of the bar before the rest of the patrons noticed he was gone and she took him to a secluded area where she told him they needed a fresh start. She told him that she had been watching over him intervening whenever he was about to get into trouble and had regretted leaving when she had seen how agitated he had been around Siegfried. It was at this point she invited him to join the order of the compass so she could keep an eye on him and help him keep his temper under control. He couldn't resist especially about how much of her recruitment speech involved that their company stood for freedom so he naturally joined right up.

Immediately after joining he was introduced to Shark a monk who would come to keep a close eye on S'imba. At this point S'imba didn't know any of the other members of the order and he didn't really want to get in their way. So he kinda just kept his head down he'd see Arvic and Nana on several occasions with Arvic getting him out of some trouble with some Brass Blades after they had arrested him and were beating him. Afterwards after Arvic released S'imba from the chains the blades had placed on him he called for a healer. Shark came and had brought Sorcha, a talented and highly skilled white mage, with him. After Sorcha healed S'imba he thanked her little did she know the headache and worry he would cause her in the order. The next day a friend of S'imba came to see him having heard of the previous days events. S'imba quickly realized she had been possessed and not knowing any other mages contacted Sven. This would be one of the biggest mistakes S'imba would ever make. Sven told S'imba he would help him and they could discuss payment afterwards desperate S'imba agreed to his terms. The pair ended up taking the girl to the Sultan tree where Sven proceeded to invoke his black magic releasing her from the magic that controlled her. Immediately afterwards they were attacked by a legion of blades in which Sven wasted no time in dropping a meteor on. The entire time S'imba couldn't help but notice there seemed to be a madness that existed inside him. Afterwards Sven told S'imba what he expected in payment which in reality was S'imba pledging his servitude to the man...

'''The true colors of Sven Voulkus''' Some time later S'imba was at the bar in the quicksand he found a seat in the crowded bar when the three strangers next to him recognized him as a member of the order. The were Xaxareaux Garnin (Nanarou's younger brother), Zedd Magee, and Gunnjborn Darkblade. They welcomed him as the newest recruit and bought a round for him. As they spoke the conversation turned dark they wanted to get S'imba in on a project. Suddenly S'imba heard Nanarou speaking in his mind to leave at once that the people he was talking to would only bring him trouble. Despite the warning S'imba continued to listen. They spoke about how Sven was actually a unstable psychotic madman who wanted to burn the world to nothing so that it could be reborn properly. They were conspiring to kill the man, S'imba was sucked into this whole scheme after he told them that he owed Sven and as Nanarou spoke to his mind and the group talked about how dangerous Sven really was he began to panic. Nanarou who had actually been spying on them cast a sleep spell on S'imba to shut him up. The trio thinking he had passed out from hyperventilation decided to take him somewhere quieter when Zedd said "Are we kidnapping him?" to which Gunn responded "Yep" as they hauled S'imba out of the bar and into the ally behind the quicksand.
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[[File:S'imba wanted.jpg|thumbnail|On the run from the law.]]
After being turned into a weapon by Shade; S'imba became an item of interest to various individuals. As such several organizations put a bounty on him. He was also framed and charged for various criminal activities...as well as a few crimes he committed on his own. After escaping custody multiple times he went into hiding by disguising himself a mercenary and demon hunter by the name Raven. Trying to get into the mercenary and bounty hunter circles as a way of finding out more about why he's being pursued and discover the identities of those seeking him. He has found multiple connections yet none of them really make any sense. He was captured by Ishgardians where he discovered that they wanted to bring him before their primal Shiva. During the escape a strange creature known as Clad seemingly came to their rescue. After S'imba accidentally seemingly mortally wounded Sven and was trying to get out of the prison with him. Clad took him away from S'imba, powerless to act against the mysterious figure. Clad stabbed Sven with a pair of daggers and killed him before vanishing with his body, leaving S'imba to have to face a voidsent and some other abomination alone.
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==Memory Lost==
Waking up in a free company bed after Shark and Arvic had taken the amulet. He had no idea where he was or for that matter who he was. He stood up to try and find some answers and heard a voice calling to him. It was Pup, S'imba had no idea who he was. This of course made the blind lalafell angry with S'imba at first but that was soon replaced by tears as his buddy now had no idea who he was. About this time Shark arrived and explained everything to Pup who began venting on Shark for the whole incident. This was until S'imba had made his way to the door when Pup yelled at him."Where do you think your going?" Shocked S'imba replied. "I just wanted to go have a look around." Pup devastated not knowing how to respond to such an innocent request suddenly had his anger subside and said "Alright I'll show you around." Luckily Pup had bumped around enough that he knew the area pretty good and was able to show S'imba around fairly easy. Unfortunately for S'imba, Pup had some unexpected business come up that needed to be taken care of. With no other choice he left him at the quicksand so Momodi could keep an eye on him until Pup got back. S'imba was there for several hours he met new friends as well as old friends most of which were more than happy to help him. As far as the situation went it was a fairly good day if one didn't count the amnesia. That was until he found out he was supposed to fight a Roe known as the Butcher of Mor Dohna. He decided there was some sort of mistake and that he would talk to Pup about it later. Finally later in the evening Pup returned for him and took him back to the house. When they had arrived S'imba recounted the days events. Pup smiled the entire time that was until S'imba came to what he heard about having to fight the Roe. Despite Pup telling him he was a slave and that he was seen as little more than an animal S'imba hadn't really grasped the concept. "I'm not going to fight him, they can't make me it's my choice." S'imba would say to Pup. "S'imba from what I understand what you've told me you don't." Pup would be forced to reply to him. "But I'm a person they should listen to me if I explain it to them they'll understand that I don't want to do it." He'd tell Pup. "S'imba I don't think they will." Pup would reply to S'imba he didn't know how to tell someone that they didn't even own themselves. "You see these people don't really see you as a person to them your just some kind of animal." As S'imba's heart fell into his stomach as what Pup was saying started to sink in. "But I'm not how could someone ever do think that about me?" S'imba would say his voice breaking as his eyes started to well up in tears. "Because their monsters they don't care about anyone. They only care about money." Pup would reply standing up on the couch and walking over and setting a hand on his shoulder as S'imba cried. "I'm going to die." S'imba said before Pup gave a reassuring squeeze. "Your a good fighter and despite you forgetting your body will remember. Shark says that although you may be small you fight like a cornered Couerl. You're going to be fine." He would say before heading downstairs to bed. With that S'imba gave a reassured smile but would lie down on the couch and silently cry into the night until he finally fell asleep.
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Discovering a Soulstone
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During a job he was hired for he ended up being paid with a strange jewel. Though he had seen several in the past he failed to recognize it as a soulstone. He became enchanted with it's strange beauty and couldn't bring himself to sell it. One day while out in the wild he was attacked by a large monster. Knowing his knives were no match for the winged fiend and that he was cornered he felt he was finished. Seemingly by chance he stumbled over a great sword. Desperately he picked it up, suddenly the soulstone awoke attuning itself with him pulsing with his own heart beat. Suddenly he felt a wealth of knowledge pouring into his mind, he suddenly understood so much more. Giving him the strength and knowledge to overcome his foe. As his foe fell a voice told him to finish it. With a swing of the blade he chopped off the head of the creature before the voice spoke again. "If you want the ability to truly be free and protect the innocent, to rise to a hero I can give you that power if you allow me." Despite his reservations of things that offered power after seeing friend after friend make deals only to have things backfire he agreed to the voice awakening him as a dark knight. Several days later he was paid a visit from his friend Gunnjborn,an accomplished dark knight it didn't take him long to sniff out the change in S'imba. He scolded him and informed him he'd have to struggle to avoid being consumed. This only furthered S'imba's desire to have a mentor. As Gunn informed him that he didn't have the time leaving S'imba on his own. Without someone to point him in the right direction he once again turned to the soulstone which offered to lead him to the previous owner. Traveling to a mountain in Coerthas he came upon a grave. Feeling like the stone was just playing some sort of prank on him he went to toss it from the mountaintop only to hear a voice behind him. He turned to see an old man with a white beard. He introduced himself as Sage and offered to teach him to be a dark knight. S'imba agreed and Sage put him through several trials and judged him in a manner with standards that were impossible to live up to. Though he helped many he couldn't help that those he saved seemed to be terrified of him. The reason for this would become clear when one day Sven came to check on him after S'imba had stolen his mother's crimson great sword. Sage had been busy instructing S'imba in his room. Sven and S'imba got into an argument and Sage finally told S'imba to kill Sven as he needed to be held accountable for his crimes. S'imba began arguing with sage while Sven gained an extremely worried expression. Finally Sven asked S'imba if he was ok and when S'imba asked why Sven informed the seeker that he was arguing with himself. Suddenly Sage vanished as S'imba realized he had imagined Sage. S'imba quickly began to panic that he was losing his mind though Sven suspected possession. He preformed an excorsim on the second identity that was in S'imba. Rather than manifesting as a voidsent the thing that had came out was S'imba's darkside as his doppleganger. This other half would come to be known as Dark S'imba. The doppleganger immediately set to work on getting vengeance on all who had taken advantage and hurt S'imba in the past. Going so far as to target Ul'dah itself insciting anarchy and assassinating upper class members. Several of S'imba's friends would be targeted Sven in particular would be stripped of his black magic while Dark S'imba replaced it with a twisted version of white magic. S'imba tried to confront his darkside but thanks to its far more aggressive and merciless fighting style he easily defeated S'imba. Leaving him tied up in the rain and mud and taking S'imba's place it was only thanks to the fact that Sven was able to observe that the doppleganger did not have the collar that was fused around the real S'imba's neck. They were able to rescue S'imba though ultimately dark S'imba would escape their custody. S'imba began training to master the power of a dark knight. Fighting several highly powerful enemies, his nature already to put a lot of energy into his emotions causing him to become a particularly powerful dark knight. Despite this he seeks the true secret of the abyss so that he can finally defeat his dark side once and for all.
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Rouges' Guild
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After escaping from prison in Ul'dah, S'imba almost immediately found himself shanghaied by a group of pirates known as the Dreadshrykes. He earned his place among them after the ship was lead to Shagain territory by a tempered steersman, where the entire crew was either killed or captured by the fishmen S'imba was able to break free as the ritual for summoning Leviathan had begun. Managing to get ahold of his daggers he set the remaining crew free, who then fled back to their ship. S'imba meanwhile hunted down the traitorous steersman, ending his life so that he could no longer lead sailors to be tempered by the Lord of the Whorl. The crew had just started to ship off as S'imba ran out the fishmen's lair, fortunately they tossed S'imba a rope and he was able to escape with them. After that they treated him as one of their own, though this was hardly the end of his trials among them. Soon they ended up raiding a ship which turned out to be another pirate ship. Though the raid was completely successful before he could make his escape he was seized by several keepers of the moon. He then watched as his crew sailed off. It didn't take him long to realize the keeper pirates saw all males as slaves and quickly put him to work with repairing the damages made to the ship. His efforts to convince the other males to mutiny were highly unsuccessful the only response he would be given was. "You're a slave deal with it." Eventually the keepers hunted down the Dreadshrykes the captain of the ship offering S'imba the chance to fire the first cannon at them. When he refused he was promptly tied to the mast to be forced to watch his crew die. The Dreadshrykes' ship would suddenly turn to crash into the keeper ship and it was quickly revealed the Dreadshrykes had abandoned it into their lifeboats and swarmed the keeper ship. Fortunately this time they took the time to rescue S'imba. After he was cut off he decided to make a point to the keepers by burning their sails up defiantly saying he was no ones slave anymore. Causing the captain of the keepers to swear that they would eventually show him otherwise. S'imba escaped into the lifeboats and eventually they washed up in Aleport right into the waiting hands of the Yellowjakets who promptly arrested the entire crew. As they sat in the holding cell awaiting to be sent to a proper prison the yellowjackts drug a very tied up Miqo'te charged with thievery. As soon as they opened the cell S'imba used his ability to manipulate the water and wash the yellowjackets off their feet. Though the rest of the crew predictably just fled, S'imba stayed behind to cut the Miqo'te free. As S'imba was preparing to run as well the other seeker took him with him convincing him to forsake the pirates. Since S'imba didn't have a hiding whole the seeker offered to take S'imba back to the rogues' guild to hide out until the heat was off. The rogues quickly accepted S'imba among their ranks after he proved to them that he was willing to uphold and enforce the code. Now he works for them often both for gil and the perk of having good connections when he needs some sort of information or object.
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Scions of the Seventh Dawn
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Until a few months ago S'imba had only heard of the members of this organization most often in a highly negative light. Hearing constantly of their incompetence and that they used their members for nothing more than primal fodder. His first real encounter however was when Rhyder approached him about a 'gift' he supposedly had. He invited him a chance to join their number and told him the opportunities that he could receive as a Scion, such as real freedom and a proper education. Despite this temptation thanks to the constant negativity he was subject to he reached a point of indecision. He finally told Rhyder he would think about it and that he would like to shadow Rhyder and learn about what exactly it was he did. That way if it turned out it wasn't for him he wouldn't feel obligated to stick with them. Though his indecision would ultimately backfire on him, as Rhyder went ahead and made him an official member. This miscommunication ripped S'imba's life apart. One evening he was sitting at home relaxing having worked to stay out of trouble for once. Then the door suddenly burst open and a cloaked figure rushed in and downstairs. S'imba and the other members of the company followed the figure weapons drawn, though the figure soon revealed himself as Rhyder who then told a story that he had been working in the kitchens during an important banquet when he had to flee due to the Scions being charged with traitors and Garlean agents. Telling them that all the Scions were now wanted they were telling them he could hide out at the free company house. That was when Rhyder delivered the news that tore S'imba's entire life apart. The Blades had a list of all members of the Scions and S'imba's name was on that list. Which meant that the Blades would soon arrive at the house intending to arrest S'imba, which meant that hiding at the free company wouldn't be an option for a while. Rhyder informed him that he was going to use his Ishgardian heritage to hide in Ishgard, S'imba replied he didn't want to leave everything behind to go live in the freezing cold. Rhyder informed him he wouldn't be able to come as well, he instead gave S'imba orders to come back and live as a shadow in Ul'dah and work to gain support in secret as well as try and find out more details of the events that had transpired there. He made S'imba promise that he would do this which was promptly followed by the sound of pounding on the door. Quickly the plan was made the pair would escape by teleportation to Coerthas. Sven and Tai made there way upstairs to delay the Blades and buy S'imba and Rhyder time to teleport. They managed to escape, though S'imba quickly regretted the fact he didn't have time to get any supplies or any warm clothing, which meant he arrived in Coerthas in the middle of a severe blizzard. S'imba followed Rhyder to the steps of faith where he was forced to watch the man make his way down the bridge watching him until he vanished leaving S'imba with a feeling of being completely alone. With great difficulty stomping through thigh high snow, and fighting a chilling wind. Nearly freezing to death he made his way to Sven's old research lab where he was able to take shelter from the cold and find some food and supplies. He then spent the longest sleepless night he had ever faced, fear and loneliness consuming him. He spent the entire night crying fearful of the overwhelming feeling of the situation. The next day he disguised himself and took on several aliases moving from Raven then Blade and finally Maverick. It was at this point S'imba decided to embrace being a Scion. Though despite the fact that he had many willing to help him with his task he found very little success. He was faced with close call after close call which eventually led to his arrest. He spent a month in prison before his friends were finally able to bust him out and he fled to La Nosca to hide. Eventually Rhyder would sacrifice himself in order to kill a mighty dragon the company had faced. This led to S'imba losing his only contact with the Scions. After this S'imba felt too intimidated to seek out any other Scions. Partially due to the fact he is afraid that they will blame him for Rhyder's death, even though he feels it's highly unlikely anyone in the organization would even know who he is. Since then he feels he is no longer a Scion though deep down he feels he has missed his chance to truly achieve his dreams.e.
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="Dark S'imba"=
(Totally Cliche concept I used)
S'imba's darkside made manifest after Sven tried to exorcise his darkside out of him thinking he was possessed by a voidsent. The result was a twin of S'imba who was formed of all the painful emotion S'imba spent so much time burying inside himself. As well as his darker dreams, desires, and ambitions. Things that S'imba refuses to acknowledge he has. As a result it created a version of S'imba who is out for revenge on everyone who ever hurt him. Though rather than simply kill them he torments them, examples include taking away the black magic from a black mage whose entire identity had revolved around black magic, only to replace it with some mockery of white magic and make the man think he had been forced into the so called weaker magic. Encouraging a revolutionist to return to her life of creating anarchy. One of his bigger goals is the complete destruction of Ul'dah as vengeance for the pain and suffering it caused him and represents. He is an extremely powerful version of S'imba, due to being far more ruthless and unmerciful. He fights much more aggressively and focuses more on powerful blows rather than S'imba's quicker fighting style. The only true way of telling the two apart is the fact that Dark S'imba refuses to wear a collar to impersonate his "noble" side.
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File:Edgelordprime.jpg|Too much edgelord
File:darksimba.jpg|S'imba now with twice the edge.
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=OOC=

=== Wanted for Interesting Roleplay (and other information to use) ===

*Recently S'imba has reentered the bloodsands in a semi-disguise under the alias Hell Cat, based on rumors that since he uses strange magics in the ring he must be some sort of demon boy, the name being taken from a young keeper who refers to all seekers as hell cats, it seemed fitting to him. Though he's changed his fighting style from knives to the sword to help disguise himself by changing up his fighting style, and he's tweaked his appearance just enough to try and avoid anyone looking too closely at him as there are still those who would like to claim him as their fighter. If your character would recognize him in any of these regards you can use this information.

*Anyone with knowledge of slave markings would be able to identify the brand on his face as him being marked as a slave for life.

*He still has a poster or two left out there for his arrest from his brief time as a pirate, offering a reward for his arrest in Limsa for questioning about the pirates he was associated with.
===Links:===
* [http://simba-tia.tumblr.com/ Tumblr]

===Tropes:===
Optional section. Remove if you don't want. You can link [http://tvtropes.com/|TV Tropes] about your character here.

===About the Player:===
Optional section. Remove if you don't want.

===Annotations:===
This template created by [[Rihxo Matoi]] with the help of [[Nanagi Nagi]] and has pieces from the templates of [[Unnamed Mercenary]], [[Roen Deneith]], [[Cyrus Wolfe]], and [[Coatleque Crofte]].

===Other Stuff===
* OOC notes. For extra fun, write at 3am.

=Gallery=
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File:Simba drk gladiator.png|Going back to the pits as a dark knight.
File:Simba-drk.png|S'imba the dark knight.
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Zanzan Yanzan

2017-01-17T05:06:37Z

Anstarra: Added rumor!

__NOTOC__
<div align=center><div style="font-size:55px;letter-spacing:0.2em;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;text-shadow: 1px 1px 5px teal">Zanzan Yanzan</div></div>
<div align=center><div style="font-size:15px;letter-spacing:0.25em;color:#3390ff;font-family:Book Antiqua;text-shadow: 1px 1px 5px green;">"As with any good tale, we cannot so easily predict its ending. Never close your book too soon, for there are many chapters in your story that yet remains unwritten."</div></div>
<br>
<div align=center bottom>[[File:ZanzanProfile1.gif|275px]]<font style="color:#FFFFFF">- - -</font>[[File:ZanzanProfile2.gif|350px]]<font style="color:#FFFFFF">- - -</font>[[File:ZanzanProfile3.gif|275px]]</div>
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<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #002835;font-size:14px;color:#3390ff;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px green;letter-spacing:0.15em;"><center>'''VITAL INFORMATION'''</center></div></span></h3>
<br>
<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616078;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''CURRENT ALIAS...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Zanzan Yanzan</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''RACE & CLAN...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Lalafell, Plainsfolk</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''NAMEDAY...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> 8th sun of the Fifth Umbral Moon.</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''GENDER...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Male</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''AGE...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> 23</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''ORIENTATION...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Heterosexual</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''MARITAL STATUS...'''</font><font style="font-family:Georgia;padding:0px 5px;"> In a Relationship</font>

<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline">
<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #002835;font-size:14px;color:#3390ff;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px green;letter-spacing:0.15em;"><center>'''OTHER STATISTICS'''</center></div></span></h3>
<br>
<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''ETHNICITY...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Mixed-Blooded Lalafell</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''NATIONALITY...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Limsan</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''RESIDENCE...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> The Mists</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''OCCUPATION...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Adventurer and Demonologist</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''PATRON DEITY...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Oschon, the Wanderer</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''HEIGHT...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;padding:0px 5px;"> 3 fulms</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''WEIGHT...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;padding:0px 5px;"> 86 ponz</font>

</tr></table></div>

__NOTOC__
{| width="100%"
|-
| colspan="8" style="vertical-align:top" |
=Story=
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #477989;font-size:16px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''G E N E R A L'''</center></div></span></h3>

Zanzan Yanzan is an aspiring adventurer and Thaumaturge. The son of a Dunefolks Lalafell, Ixion Quintox, and a Plainsfolk Lalafell, Oboju Noboju, two experienced mages which contributed to Zanzan's natural talent for magic. Born and raised in La Noscea, he lived among a lively and diverse environment with people of far-reaching cultures which in turn fed into his curiosity of the world and his open and welcoming demeanor after his experience with individuals from different walks of life.

His life was relatively normal though worry came to his family when he began to show an unstable connection to the aether which began his training in the art of magic as a way to control it. However, his family's life took a turn as the Calamity hit, resulting in the death of Oboju during Zanzan's earlier years.

Currently, he travels and explores the world, aiding any in search of need all the while taking up contracts to support himself and his family, and previously before, underneath the colors of the Immortal Flames. He hopes that one day he'd be able to settle down and find a new place for his family but currently, lives on the path of the road. However, he'll never stop in making Eorzea and the lands beyond a safe home for all.

===Appearance and Other Attributes===

A Lalafell of average height with wild, earthy brown hair. The most unique of his features are his green and blue eyes which are shared yet reversed with his twin sister. He often wears a warm and welcoming expression, meeting everyday with a smile. Sometimes refers to himself as "dashing".

Many may assume that the Lalafell is young, if his appearance did not confuse the non-popotos already, due to his lively demeanor though his deeper and smoother voice immediately betrays that initial thought. He speaks with a light La Noscean accent (common in seafaring folk) though his usual manner of speaking is closer to that of a traveling bard, possibly contributed by his love for story-telling, poetry and extensive book reading.

He commonly wears a large, weathered coat, which is interiorly lined with scales for added protection, hiding most of his physical features if his hat (or hats) hadn't accomplished that in the first place.

===Behavior===

An open, friendly, and welcoming individual, greeting most individuals like friends, even if they were total strangers, a most commonly observed trait he had adopted from being raised by his Limsan father. However, this does not mean his is easily swayed and is naturally perceptive to emotions and behaviors which may be contributed by his curious and observant nature.

He approaches most jobs with overwhelming optimism, at least, openly. While he has child-like energy, he meets most occasions with maturity and respect. Though that isn't to say that the Lalafell isn't completely in control of his emotions. One may find him stubborn in his philosophies and does not hold back on his expression of emotions whether display of sorrow relating to uselessness or one of anger due to dishonesty shown by his peers.

==Journals, Stories and More==

===IC Journals and Stories===

===Plots and Stories in Which Zanzan was Involved===

===Character Development Posts===

=Skills=
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #477989;font-size:16px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''S K I L L S'''</center></div></span></h3>

<table style="position:center;" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px;">
<div style="padding:6px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #76B175;font-size:14px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''P R O F I C I E N C I E S'''</center></div>
<br>
<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px green">■</font><font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''WEAPONS...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"><center><br>Staff, Dual Sceptors, and Longsword</center></font>
<br>
<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px green">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''TRAINING...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"><center><br>Twenty cycles of study and training in Thaumaturgy, Demonology and Arcanium.<br>One cycle of Immortal Flames military including basic combat and physicals, and basic tactics.<br>
</center></font>
<br>
<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px green">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''EXPERIENCE...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"><center><br>One cycle of service with the Immortal Flames.<br> Five cycles of levequesting and adventuring.<br> Ten cycles of sailing, boating, and fishing.<br> Three cycles of part-time carpentry and masonry.
</center></font>
</td>

<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px;">
<div style="padding:6px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #76B175;font-size:14px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''C O N T R A C T   W O R K'''</center></div>
<br>
<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''AVAILABLE FOR HIRE...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"><center><br>'''OOC Note: May not always be available for new contracts.'''<br>Tracking and Cleansing Voidal Energies.<br>Tracking and Hunting Voidsents.<br>Exploration of Ancient Ruins for Scholarly Purposes.<br>Study and Recording of Aetherical Anamolies.<br>Magical Trinket Enchantments.</center></font>
<br>
<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''CURRENT CONTRACTS...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"><center><br>'''Exploration for Rendezvous of Stars'''</center></font>
</td></tr></table>
<br>

=History=
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #477989;font-size:16px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''H I S T O R Y'''</center></div></span></h3>

<table style="position:center;" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px;">
<div style="padding:6px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #76B175;font-size:14px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''C U R R E N T   A F F I L I A T I O N S'''</center></div>
<br>
<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''FREE COMPANY...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> The Fabled Few</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''ALLIED FREE COMPANIES...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Rendezvous of Stars</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''GRAND COMPANY...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> None</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''GUILDS...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Adventurers', Thaumaturgy</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''NOBLES...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> House Wynterwulf</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''BENEFACTORS...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> None</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''CRIMINAL ELEMENTS...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Vigilantism</font>
</td>

<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px;">
<div style="padding:6px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #76B175;font-size:14px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''F O R M E R   A F F I L I A T I O N S'''</center></div>
<br>
<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''FREE COMPANY...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> The Gilded Dawn</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''ALLIED FREE COMPANIES...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> Morbolvine Clan, Shroudwolf Clan</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''GRAND COMPANY...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> The Immortal Flames</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''GUILDS...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> None</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''NOBLES...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> None</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''BENEFACTORS...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> None</font>

<font style="padding:0px 5px; font-size:12px;color:#616978;font-family:Georgia;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">■</font> <font style="font-size:12px;color:#000000;font-family:Book Antiqua;letter-spacing:0.2em;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal">'''CRIMINAL ELEMENTS...'''</font> <font style="font-family:Georgia;"> None</font>
</td></tr></table>
<br>

=Relationships=
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #477989;font-size:16px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''R E L A T I O N S H I P S (Always a WIP)'''</center></div></span></h3>
<center>
{| style="border-spacing: 2px; border: 1px solid darkgray; background: white; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px"
|-
|
| style="color: #FF0000" size="3"|♥
| Romantic Interest 
| style="color: #FF7575" size="3"|♥
| Platonic Love 
| style="color: #47B247" size="3"|●
| Positive 
| style="color: #6b6e72" size="3"|●
| Neutral 
| style="color: #FF0000" size="3"|●
| Negative 
| style="color: #000000" size="3"|☠
| Deceased 
| style="color: #000000" size="3"|<b>?</b>
| Uncertain 
|
|}
</center>

<table style="position:center;" width="100%">
<tr><td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px;">

<div style="padding:6px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #76B175;font-size:14px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px green;"><center>'''F A M I L Y'''</center></div>
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Oboju Noboju]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#000000; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>☠</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Father</b></div>
|-
| <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:12px;">TEXT GOES HERE</div>
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Ixion Quintox]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#FF7575; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>♥</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Mother</b></div>
|-
| <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:12px;">TEXT GOES HERE</div>
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Yanyan Zanyan]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#FF7575; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>♥</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Twin Sister </b></div>
|-
| <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:12px;">TEXT GOES HERE</div>
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Kirkirik Tirtirik]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Lost Rock</b></div>
|-
| <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:12px;">TEXT GOES HERE</div>
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Kiht Jakkya]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b> The Spirit Sister </b></div>
|-
| <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:12px;">TEXT GOES HERE</div>
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Minara Noh]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b> The Wild "Aunt" </b></div>
|-
| <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:12px;">TEXT GOES HERE</div>
|}

<div style="padding:6px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #76B175;font-size:14px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px green;"><center>'''F R I E N D S'''</center></div>

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Qara Hotgo]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#FF0000; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>♥</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Beloved Warrior</b></div>
|-
|-
| <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:12px;">TEXT GOES HERE</div>
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Miah Polaali]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#000000; font-weight:100" font-size:16px><b>?</b></font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Lost Friend</b></div>
|-
|-
| <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:12px;">TEXT GOES HERE</div>
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Nihka Mioni]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Genius Mother</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Nira Rabntah]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Scholar</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Braxis Wynterwulf]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Dragonslayer</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Ume Muto]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Life Saved</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Z'beexu Vhoz]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Nunhbreaker</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Io Saar]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Stray Mute</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Maric Thornharte]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Dark Shining Knight</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Nheu'a Polaali]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Crazy's Brother</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[R'shesha Otharn]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Watchful Huntress</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Rebeccah Price]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Optimistic Leader</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Kaze Makkuro]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Caring Grump</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Ame Kusakari]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Sweet Girl</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Tyo Panipahr]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Manic Kitten</b></div>
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</td>

<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px;">
<div style="padding:6px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #76B175;font-size:14px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px green;"><center>'''A S S O C I A T E S'''</center></div>

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Aya Foxheart]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#6b6e72; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Clever Barmaid</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Khloe Lylehga]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Matriarch</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Sanja Polaali]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Caretaker</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Flora Valerian]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#47B247; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Passionate Warrior</b></div>
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<div style="padding:6px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #76B175;font-size:14px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px green;"><center>'''A N T A G O N I S T S'''</center></div>

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Austurmax Laforet]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#FF0000; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Trickster</b></div>
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;"
! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>[[Spahro Llorn]]</b> <b>(</b> <font style="color:#6b6e72; font-weight:100" font-size:16px>●</font> <b>)</b> - <b>The Annoying Swindler</b></div>
|-
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</td></tr></table>

<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #477989;font-size:16px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''I M P O R T A N T   T R I N K E T S'''</center></div></span></h3>

'''Four Silver Earrings''' each enchanted by a family member and representative of themselves. Worn to this day.

'''Horn Necklace''' made by [[Qara Hotgo]]. Qara has a shyness to her that was worse when she was a teen. So, to get noticed by boys, she wore that necklace thinking it would help. It's made of goat horn, but has been sanded and polished down so that the horn segments are smooth to the touch. Each segment is roughly square, and has a string running through tiny drilled holes. The string is tightly-woven wool yarn. A single segment on the back is cut in two, and has a simple metal hooking clasp that allows the necklace to be removed. Worn to this day.

'''An Old, Black Magi Hat''' passed down to Zanzan by his father, Oboju. It has crumpled with age, permanently retaining and misshapen state though its mysterious enchantment has far from faded away. Either worn or hanging off his back by a strap.

'''A Lalafell-sized Knife''' crafted by [[Kiht Jakkya]] and is made of a bluish crystal, and sharp as a razor. It’s built narrow, and has a single edge, but the back bears the ridges of a tactical knife. The blade comes to a very narrow, keen tip. The knife can cut, but is clearly built to help stabbing. The hilt is made of some polished Rosewood with a steel guard and pommel. Carved on the hilt is the symbol of a Panda. The contrasting colors of such an animal are the only parts of the hilt that are painted. The sheath is made of smooth Gigantoad hide that will allow the knife to be drawn quietly when pulled. Strapped behind his belt for quick access and low-profile.

'''Platinum Bracelet''' crafted as a promise of devotion, love, and loyalty between the persons that wears its twin. It sported a polished and woven design with two platinum bands interlacing with one another like a silk ribbon.

=Rumors=
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #477989;font-size:16px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''R U M O R S   &   R E C O R D S'''</center></div></span></h3>

<table style="position:center;" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;">
<div style="border:0px solid; padding:8px;">
<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #759bb1; color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ C o m m o n R u m o r s - </b>''Easily found. Use these freely.''</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#4d5460;" size="2">■</font> "Nearly ate out me entire stock! I almost had to shove the lil' guy out so my other customers would 'ave somethin' to eat." - Limsa Lominsan Chef</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#4d5460;" size="2">■</font> "If yer lookin' for help, look for tha'lalafell... Uh... What 'is name again? Ah! Right, Zanzan Yanzan. Good lad, he is." - La Noscean Ferryman</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#4d5460;" size="2">■</font> "Papa! Papa! Do you think Zanzan's going to be here tonight? I want to hear stories again! Stories!" - A Farmer's Child</div><br>

<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #759bb1; color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ U n c o m m o n R u m o r s -</b> ''A little more difficult to find. Use sparingly or ask.''</div><br>

: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#4d5460;" size="2">■</font> "Well... Mayhaps if he was a little bit taller I'll... Umm... Oh darn it, why couldn't he be some rugged Highlander or an Elezen... Sigh... He's such a sweetheart." - Ul'dahn Miqo'te Dancer</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#4d5460;" size="2">■</font> "He does some good work out here and the denizens here seem to love him. Can't say I'm too comfortable letting a Thaumaturge running around in the Shroud though. I will be watching him." - Twin Serpant Officer</div><br>

: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#4d5460;" size="2">■</font> </div><br>

<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #759bb1; color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ R a r e R u m o r s -</b> ''Very rarely overheard. Please ask before using!''</div><br>

: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#4d5460;" size="2">■</font>"I found him runnin' out of some alley, crying, angry or some shite. Decided to check on the commotion and the next thin' I know, the entire place was frozen like some fuckin' Coerthas wasteland! I can't say much about those thugs though, only that it took an entire day to chip their arses out of that ice." - Brass Blade Private</div><br>

</div></td>

<td style="vertical-align: top;width:50%;padding-right:10px; font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;">
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<div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #305062; color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><b>◢ Player Character Rumors -</b> ''Feel free to add rumors of your own!''</div><br>
: <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#30343c;" size="2">■</font>
::*"I have seen him eat enough food to put a giant or two to shame." - [[Braxis Wynterwulf]]

::*"I want t'eat him." - [[Meyla Sarka]]

::*"'Tis hard to believe he was once friends with one of the most insane Moon-sisters I knew, yet he is not insane himself. Twelve have preserved his kindness and honor." - [[Kiht Jakkya]]

::*"Fatass Lalafell, bottomless stomach, warn your chef." - [[Z'beexu Vhoz]]

::*"Zanzan may seem like a lighthearted child at times but do not be fooled. When the situation calls, Zanzan commands attention." - [[Kirkirik Tirtirik]]

::*"He gives me hope... And makes me use all my pink paint." - [[Qara Hotgo]]

::*"Well-spoken." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

::*"A voidsent in disguise. Evil incarnate." - [[???]]

::*"I've rarely met someone so determined to be good, to DO good. I'd call him naive, if he didn't pull it off as often as he does! Good to have in a scrap or a sing-along~" - [[Anstarra Silverain]]

</div><br>

</div>
</td></tr></table>

=Screenshots=
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #477989;font-size:16px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''S C R E E N S H O T S'''</center></div></span></h3>

<gallery>
File:ZanzanFood.jpg|Io and Zanzan enjoying a simple Lalafell-sized meal.
File:ZanzanLalafellFamily2.png|Ixion Quintox, Zanzan Yanzan and Yanyan Zanyan in a family photo.
File:ZanzanYanzanMustaches.jpg| The twins playing with Mum's starlight gifts; fake mustaches.
File:ZanzanQaraStars.png|Zanzan and Qara with a starry night.
File:ZanzanPaint.jpg|Zanzan wearing Qara's paint.
File:ZanzanStarlight.jpg|Starlight Mood.
File:ZanzanCandid.png|Business.
</gallery>

=Artwork=
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #477989;font-size:16px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''A R T W O R K'''</center></div></span></h3>

=Miscellaneous=
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="padding:10px 35px;letter-spacing:0.15em;background: #477989;font-size:16px;color:#000000;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px teal;"><center>'''M I S C E L L A N E O U S'''</center></div></span></h3>
<br>
: <div style="padding:0px 0px; font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''Credit:'''</div>

:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#585350;" size="2">■</font> Template adapted from and inspired by the wiki of '''[[Osric Melkire]]'''
<br>
: <div style="padding:0px 0px; font-size:14px;color:#5F5F5F;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px silver">'''In-Character Usage:'''</div>

:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#585350;" size="2">■</font> All information under Skills, History, and Rumors is available for in-character use, and said use is encouraged.
:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#585350;" size="2">■</font> All information under Relationships, Screenshots, Artwork, and Miscellaneous is intended solely for out-of-character knowledge.
:: <div style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px"><font style="color:#585350;" size="2">■</font> Please respect these boundaries. Thank you.

==='''Music'''===

::*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cTb4TnSJEH0 Hope]

::*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nTz2zKMUS2k Guiding Star]

::*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=efMVH7EmYr8 Teller of Tales]

::*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kyTU6-L3cVQ Clear Skies]

::*[https://youtu.be/p497e6MX1co New Dawn]

==='''References'''===

::*[http://imgur.com/a/kAKmL General Appearance Reference]

::*[https://youtu.be/glDGAo9SIqs Zanzan's Voice and Singing Reference]

<br>
<headertabs />

[[Category:Player Character]]
[[Category:Balmung]]
[[Category:Lalafell]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T04:50:45Z

Anstarra: Recently... updated!

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game! And I love rumors, feel free to add~>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is now a Captain with the Maelstrom. She earned her first commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance, became a Lieutenant by being the highest-ranking soldier willing to volunteer for thankless duties among the First Foreign Levy stationed in Coerthas, and was promoted most recently again following the Dragonsong War's conclusion (where they needed someone a little reckless and not too hidebound to captain an experimental ceruleum-powered steamship). Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* Her ship, the Iron Bitch, a strong medium-sized frigate with a full complement of 250, has not yet blown up. It is crewed mostly by familiar faces from the First Foreign, but also by a small complement of field-commissioned officer-Adventurers, including Jana Ridah and Virara Wakuwa.
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.

::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.

::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.

::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.

::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.

::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.

::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.

::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.

::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.

::*'''Khunbish Adarkim''', a curious traveler from afar, a stranger from strange lands cheerfully finding his way.

::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.

::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.

::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.

::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...

::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.

::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.

::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.

::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.

::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.

::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*'''S'imba Tia''', a disaster-prone male who tries so hard to be a hero, and sometimes even succeeds a little.

::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.

::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.

::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.

::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.

::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.

::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer
::* "I hear she was at Kokoripu Hohoripu's art auction... and made off with quite a trophy!" "Master Kokoripu's prize treasure? The one he held the silent auction for? How much do you suppose she paid for that?" "How often, you mean. She only left the house the following evening, from what I heard." "Scandalous~!" "Ohohoho..." - Ul'dahn Socialites

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." "Actually, I hear she's at it again, since she got that promotion." "Where'd ya hear that?!" "Down at the Member, had quite a party..." - Lominsan Sailors
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith
::* "That's her, 'Mateus', right? Yeah, I swiped one of their portfolios, look [http://68.media.tumblr.com/281beeafbf7aafee067bc6e2876dcb31/tumblr_nj29njuT7i1smm21jo7_500.png here]. She shows up at the Rendezvous when they do those openings. Host Club. No, no, it's not a Brothel, they hate when people make that mistake..." - Well-heeled Adventurer

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon
::* "There's so many white-haired Adventurers about I really didn't think much of it at first, but doesn't she look a LOT like those boys and girls at the Cat House? No, that's not the real name... Bright Ones or something. Couple score miqos all moved in at once into that one house in the Goblet, weird thing. Eh, whole neighborhood's full of freaks anyway." - Goblet Resident

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]
::* "She is the Forerunner, Anis.... but she don't like being called that. Think her Outsider name is Ny... An'yan'starra?" - [[X'cinna Ares]]
::* "She's extremely deadly all of the time. I was at a party once and I watched her strip down and kill a man with her bare thighs. I had to buy her pants after that. - [[S'imba Tia]]
::* "Her boat stinks of iron. She stinks of blood. It stirs the memory... She is too generous. I mislike it, being unable to refuse." - [[Virara Wakuwa]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(1/16/2017)
Life has taken many twists and turns for Anstarra, but at the same time things are looking up. The threat of her tribe rose and fell and now simmers, quietly waiting to continue... yet she is far from bored, preoccupied with her [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=17401 Captaincy of the Iron Bitch and responsibilities to the Maelstrom], her unusual (and extremely secret) fate as one of the [http://hostingstars.shivtr.com/ Stars of Destiny], her [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=16070 investigations into cultists around Highbridge, and the affair of the Vylbrandi Chocobo], and any other number of amusements and preoccupations. For once, however, her love life couldn't be better. Engaged to and enamored of her lover Nihka, yet both of them still free to pursue and indulge in other lovers (as is often the miqo'te way), she finds pleasure and solace both in her own bed and others'... free to indulge her desires without guilt or recrimination (if not entirely without consequence, rumor mills being what they are).

(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T04:38:07Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game! And I love rumors, feel free to add~>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is now a Captain with the Maelstrom. She earned her first commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance, became a Lieutenant by being the highest-ranking soldier willing to volunteer for thankless duties among the First Foreign Levy stationed in Coerthas, and was promoted most recently again following the Dragonsong War's conclusion (where they needed someone a little reckless and not too hidebound to captain an experimental ceruleum-powered steamship). Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* Her ship, the Iron Bitch, a strong medium-sized frigate with a full complement of 250, has not yet blown up. It is crewed mostly by familiar faces from the First Foreign, but also by a small complement of field-commissioned officer-Adventurers, including Jana Ridah and Virara Wakuwa.
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.

::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.

::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.

::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.

::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.

::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.

::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.

::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.

::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.

::*'''Khunbish Adarkim''', a curious traveler from afar, a stranger from strange lands cheerfully finding his way.

::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.

::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.

::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.

::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...

::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.

::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.

::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.

::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.

::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.

::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*'''S'imba Tia''', a disaster-prone male who tries so hard to be a hero, and sometimes even succeeds a little.

::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.

::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.

::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.

::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.

::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.

::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer
::* "I hear she was at Kokoripu Hohoripu's art auction... and made off with quite a trophy!" "Master Kokoripu's prize treasure? The one he held the silent auction for? How much do you suppose she paid for that?" "How often, you mean. She only left the house the following evening, from what I heard." "Scandalous~!" "Ohohoho..." - Ul'dahn Socialites

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." "Actually, I hear she's at it again, since she got that promotion." "Where'd ya hear that?!" "Down at the Member, had quite a party..." - Lominsan Sailors
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith
::* "That's her, 'Mateus', right? Yeah, I swiped one of their portfolios, look [http://68.media.tumblr.com/281beeafbf7aafee067bc6e2876dcb31/tumblr_nj29njuT7i1smm21jo7_500.png here]. She shows up at the Rendezvous when they do those openings. Host Club. No, no, it's not a Brothel, they hate when people make that mistake..." - Well-heeled Adventurer

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon
::* "There's so many white-haired Adventurers about I really didn't think much of it at first, but doesn't she look a LOT like those boys and girls at the Cat House? No, that's not the real name... Bright Ones or something. Couple score miqos all moved in at once into that one house in the Goblet, weird thing. Eh, whole neighborhood's full of freaks anyway." - Goblet Resident

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]
::* "She is the Forerunner, Anis.... but she don't like being called that. Think her Outsider name is Ny... An'yan'starra?" - [[X'cinna Ares]]
::* "She's extremely deadly all of the time. I was at a party once and I watched her strip down and kill a man with her bare thighs. I had to buy her pants after that. - [[S'imba Tia]]
::* "Her boat stinks of iron. She stinks of blood. It stirs the memory... She is too generous. I mislike it, being unable to refuse." - [[Virara Wakuwa]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T04:32:53Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game! And I love rumors, feel free to add~>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is now a Captain with the Maelstrom. She earned her first commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance, became a Lieutenant by being the highest-ranking soldier willing to volunteer for thankless duties among the First Foreign Levy stationed in Coerthas, and was promoted most recently again following the Dragonsong War's conclusion (where they needed someone a little reckless and not too hidebound to captain an experimental ceruleum-powered steamship). Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* Her ship, the Iron Bitch, a strong medium-sized frigate with a full complement of 250, has not yet blown up. It is crewed mostly by familiar faces from the First Foreign, but also by a small complement of field-commissioned officer-Adventurers, including Jana Ridah and Virara Wakuwa.
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.

::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.

::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.

::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.

::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.

::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.

::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.

::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.

::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.

::*'''Khunbish Adarkim''', a curious traveler from afar, a stranger from strange lands cheerfully finding his way.

::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.

::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.

::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.

::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...

::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.

::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.

::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.

::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.

::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.

::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*'''S'imba Tia''', a disaster-prone male who tries so hard to be a hero, and sometimes even succeeds a little.

::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.

::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.

::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.

::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.

::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.

::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer
::* "I hear she was at Kokoripu Hohoripu's art auction... and made off with quite a trophy!" "Master Kokoripu's prize treasure? The one he held the silent auction for? How much do you suppose she paid for that?" "How often, you mean. She only left the house the following evening, from what I heard." "Scandalous~!" "Ohohoho..." - Ul'dahn Socialites

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." "Actually, I hear she's at it again, since she got that promotion." "Where'd ya hear that?!" "Down at the Member, had quite a party..." - Lominsan Sailors
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith
::* "That's her, 'Mateus', right? Yeah, I swiped one of their portfolios, look [http://68.media.tumblr.com/281beeafbf7aafee067bc6e2876dcb31/tumblr_nj29njuT7i1smm21jo7_500.png here]. She shows up at the Rendezvous when they do those openings. Host Club. No, no, it's not a Brothel, they hate when people make that mistake..." - Well-heeled Adventurer.

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]
::* "She is the Forerunner, Anis.... but she don't like being called that. Think her Outsider name is Ny... An'yan'starra?" - [[X'cinna Ares]]
::* "She's extremely deadly all of the time. I was at a party once and I watched her strip down and kill a man with her bare thighs. I had to buy her pants after that. - [[S'imba Tia]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T04:25:02Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game! And I love rumors, feel free to add~>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is now a Captain with the Maelstrom. She earned her first commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance, became a Lieutenant by being the highest-ranking soldier willing to volunteer for thankless duties among the First Foreign Levy stationed in Coerthas, and was promoted most recently again following the Dragonsong War's conclusion (where they needed someone a little reckless and not too hidebound to captain an experimental ceruleum-powered steamship). Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* Her ship, the Iron Bitch, a strong medium-sized frigate with a full complement of 250, has not yet blown up. It is crewed mostly by familiar faces from the First Foreign, but also by a small complement of field-commissioned officer-Adventurers, including Jana Ridah and Virara Wakuwa.
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.

::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.

::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.

::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.

::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.

::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.

::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.

::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.

::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.

::*'''Khunbish Adarkim''', a curious traveler from afar, a stranger from strange lands cheerfully finding his way.

::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.

::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.

::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.

::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...

::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.

::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.

::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.

::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.

::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.

::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*'''S'imba Tia''', a disaster-prone male who tries so hard to be a hero, and sometimes even succeeds a little.

::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.

::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.

::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.

::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.

::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.

::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer
::* "I hear she was at Kokoripu Hohoripu's art auction... and made off with quite a prize!" "Master Kokoripu's prize treasure? How much do you suppose she paid for that?" "How often, you mean! She only left the house the following evening, from what I heard." "Scandalous~!" "Ohohoho..." - Ul'dahn Socialites

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." "Actually, I hear she's at it again, since she got that promotion." - Lominsan Sailors
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]
::* "She is the Forerunner, Anis.... but she don't like being called that. Think her Outsider name is Ny... An'yan'starra?" - [[X'cinna Ares]]
::* "She's extremely deadly all of the time. I was at a party once and I watched her strip down and kill a man with her bare thighs. I had to buy her pants after that. - [[S'imba Tia]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T04:23:02Z

Anstarra: Rumors!

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is now a Captain with the Maelstrom. She earned her first commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance, became a Lieutenant by being the highest-ranking soldier willing to volunteer for thankless duties among the First Foreign Levy stationed in Coerthas, and was promoted most recently again following the Dragonsong War's conclusion (where they needed someone a little reckless and not too hidebound to captain an experimental ceruleum-powered steamship). Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* Her ship, the Iron Bitch, a strong medium-sized frigate with a full complement of 250, has not yet blown up. It is crewed mostly by familiar faces from the First Foreign, but also by a small complement of field-commissioned officer-Adventurers, including Jana Ridah and Virara Wakuwa.
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.

::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.

::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.

::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.

::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.

::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.

::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.

::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.

::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.

::*'''Khunbish Adarkim''', a curious traveler from afar, a stranger from strange lands cheerfully finding his way.

::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.

::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.

::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.

::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...

::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.

::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.

::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.

::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.

::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.

::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*'''S'imba Tia''', a disaster-prone male who tries so hard to be a hero, and sometimes even succeeds a little.

::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.

::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.

::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.

::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.

::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.

::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer
::* "I hear she was at Kokoripu Hohoripu's art auction... and made off with quite a prize!" "Master Kokoripu's prize treasure? How much do you suppose she paid for that?" "How often, you mean! She only left the house the following evening, from what I heard." "Scandalous~!" "Ohohoho..." - Ul'dahn Socialites

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." "Actually, I hear she's at it again, since she got that promotion." - Lominsan Sailors
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]
::* "She is the Forerunner, Anis.... but she don't like being called that. Think her Outsider name is Ny... An'yan'starra?" - [[X'cinna Ares]]
::* "She's extremely deadly all of the time. I was at a party once and I watched her strip down and kill a man with her bare thighs. I had to buy her pants after that. - [[S'imba Tia]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T04:15:08Z

Anstarra: Other details, she's a Captain now!

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is now a Captain with the Maelstrom. She earned her first commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance, became a Lieutenant by being the highest-ranking soldier willing to volunteer for thankless duties among the First Foreign Levy stationed in Coerthas, and was promoted most recently again following the Dragonsong War's conclusion (where they needed someone a little reckless and not too hidebound to captain an experimental ceruleum-powered steamship). Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* Her ship, the Iron Bitch, a strong medium-sized frigate with a full complement of 250, has not yet blown up. It is crewed mostly by familiar faces from the First Foreign, but also by a small complement of field-commissioned officer-Adventurers, including Jana Ridah and Virara Wakuwa.
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.

::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.

::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.

::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.

::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.

::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.

::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.

::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.

::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.

::*'''Khunbish Adarkim''', a curious traveler from afar, a stranger from strange lands cheerfully finding his way.

::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.

::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.

::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.

::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...

::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.

::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.

::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.

::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.

::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.

::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*'''S'imba Tia''', a disaster-prone male who tries so hard to be a hero, and sometimes even succeeds a little.

::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.

::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.

::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.

::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.

::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.

::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." "Actually, I hear she's at it again, since she got that promotion." - Lominsan Sailors
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]
::* "She is the Forerunner, Anis.... but she don't like being called that. Think her Outsider name is Ny... An'yan'starra?" - [[X'cinna Ares]]
::* "She's extremely deadly all of the time. I was at a party once and I watched her strip down and kill a man with her bare thighs. I had to buy her pants after that. - [[S'imba Tia]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T04:03:52Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.

::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.

::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.

::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.

::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.

::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.

::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.

::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.

::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.

::*'''Khunbish Adarkim''', a curious traveler from afar, a stranger from strange lands cheerfully finding his way.

::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.

::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.

::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.

::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...

::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.

::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.

::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.

::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.

::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.

::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*'''S'imba Tia''', a disaster-prone male who tries so hard to be a hero, and sometimes even succeeds a little.

::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.

::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.

::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.

::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.

::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.

::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." "Actually, I hear she's at it again, since she got that promotion." - Lominsan Sailors
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]
::* "She is the Forerunner, Anis.... but she don't like being called that. Think her Outsider name is Ny... An'yan'starra?" - [[X'cinna Ares]]
::* "She's extremely deadly all of the time. I was at a party once and I watched her strip down and kill a man with her bare thighs. I had to buy her pants after that. - [[S'imba Tia]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T03:57:05Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.

::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.

::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.

::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.

::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.

::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.

::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.

::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.

::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.

::*'''Khunbish Adarkim''', a curious traveler from afar, a stranger from strange lands cheerfully finding his way.

::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.

::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.

::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.

::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...

::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.

::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.

::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.

::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.

::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.

::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*'''S'imba Tia''', a disaster-prone male who tries so hard to be a hero, and sometimes even succeeds a little.

::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.

::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.

::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.

::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.

::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.

::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]
::* "She is the Forerunner, but she don't like being called that. Think her name is Ny... An'yan'starra?" - [[X'cinna Ares]]
==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T03:50:38Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.

::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.

::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.

::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.

::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.

::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.

::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.

::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.

::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.

::*'''Khunbish Adarkim''', a curious traveler from afar, a stranger from strange lands cheerfully finding his way.

::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.

::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.

::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.

::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...

::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.

::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.

::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.

::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.

::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.

::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.

::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.

::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.

::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.

::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.

::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T03:36:23Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.

::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.

::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.

::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.

::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.

::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.

::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.

::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.

::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.

::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.

::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.

::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.

::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...

::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.

::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.

::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.

::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.

::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.

::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.

::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.

::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.

::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.

::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.

::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T03:35:36Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.
::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.
::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.
::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.
::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.
::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.
::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.
::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.
::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.
::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.
::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.
::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.
::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.
::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.
::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.
::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.
::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.
::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...
::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.
::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.
::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.
::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.
::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.
::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.
::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.
::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.
::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.
::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.
::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.
::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.
::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.
::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

::* '''Dravania'''; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom was as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, and she now must view Dravania as a place like any other, containing both light and dark.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T03:35:20Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.
::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.
::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.
::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.
::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.
::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.
::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.
::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.
::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.
::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.
::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.
::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.
::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.
::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.
::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.
::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.
::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.
::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...
::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.
::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.
::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.
::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.
::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.
::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.
::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.
::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.
::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.
::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.
::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.
::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.
::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.
::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* '''X'zarann Silverfall''', her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* '''X'kirra Ares''', her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* '''The Lambs of Dalamud'''; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* '''Garlemald'''; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T03:32:25Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.
::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.
::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.
::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.
::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.
::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.
::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.
::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.
::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.
::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.
::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.
::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.
::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.
::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.
::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.
::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.
::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.
::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...
::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.
::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.
::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.
::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.
::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.
::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.
::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.
::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.
::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.
::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.
::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.
::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.
::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.
::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*'''X'cinna Ares''', one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* X'zarann Silverfall, her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* X'kirra Ares, her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* The Lambs of Dalamud; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* Garlemald; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

::* Dravania; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom is as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, but as Nidhogg's Brood remain a real threat for all who live below, she cleaves true to her duties in scouting and mapping theaters of operation for the Alliance in general, and the Maelstrom in particular.

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T03:32:04Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*'''Arblis Ellhis''', an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.
::*'''Barbarccia Valadis''', the woman who complicated her life immensely.
::*'''Clalaris Sil Laris''', an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.
::*'''D'ranmaia Shenn''', a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.
::*'''Enju Abbagliato''', a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.
::*'''Faye Covington''', a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.
::*'''Flora Valerian''', a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.
::*'''Ghalleon Helseth''', a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.
::*'''Jana Ridah''', a fierce ally and crew-member, reliable and very enthusiastic in a fight.
::*'''Jihl Wilzuun''', a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.
::*'''Jil'enkette Denma''', a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.
::*'''Khira Lhizahla''', a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.
::*'''Kiht Jakkya''', a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.
::*'''Klynestyn Ketteram''', a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.
::*'''Lan Darklyn''', a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.
::*'''Lost River''', a mage with a troubled history.
::*'''Mimi Horo''', a onetime lover, now tentative friend.
::*'''Nihka Mioni''', Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...
::*'''Ophelia Rainteau''', a onetime lover and now friend.
::*'''Orrin Halgren''', a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.
::*'''Piers Hayward''', a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.
::*'''Reppu Hijiri''', an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.
::*'''R'shesha Otharn''', soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.
::*'''S'honji Hayakawa Nunh''', her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.
::*'''Spahro Llorn''', a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.
::*'''Sukoa no Dokusha''', a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.
::*'''Terris Blackthorne''', a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.
::*'''Val Nunh''', a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.
::*'''Verad Bellveil''', a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.
::*'''Virara Wakuwa''', a somewhat disconcerting, yet stolid, stoic, reliable and deadly comrade-in-arms.
::*'''Zanzan Yanzan''', a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.
::*'''Zaphir Zurlac''', a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*X'cinna Ares, one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* X'zarann Silverfall, her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* X'kirra Ares, her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* The Lambs of Dalamud; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* Garlemald; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

::* Dravania; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom is as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, but as Nidhogg's Brood remain a real threat for all who live below, she cleaves true to her duties in scouting and mapping theaters of operation for the Alliance in general, and the Maelstrom in particular.

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T03:24:44Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*Arblis Ellhis, an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.
::*Barbarccia Valadis, the woman who complicated her life immensely.
::*Clalaris Sil Laris, an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.
::*D'ranmaia Shenn, a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.
::*Enju Abbagliato, a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.
::*Faye Covington, a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.
::*Flora Valerian, a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.
::*Ghalleon Helseth, a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.
::*Jihl Wilzuun, a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.
::*Jil'enkette Denma, a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.
::*Khira Lhizahla, a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.
::*Kiht Jakkya, a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.
::*Klynestyn Ketteram, a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.
::*Lan Darklyn, a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.
::*Lost River, a mage with a troubled history.
::*Mimi Horo, a onetime lover, now tentative friend.
::*'''Nihka Mioni, Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...'''
::*Ophelia Rainteau, a onetime lover and now friend.
::*Orrin Halgren, a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.
::*Piers Hayward, a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.
::*Reppu Hijiri, an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.
::*R'shesha Otharn, soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.
::*S'honji Hayakawa Nunh, her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.
::*Spahro Llorn, a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.
::*Sukoa no Dokusha, a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.
::*Terris Blackthorne, a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.
::*Val Nunh, a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.
::*Verad Bellveil, a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.
::*Zanzan Yanzan, a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.
::*Zaphir Zurlac, a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*X'cinna Ares, one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* X'zarann Silverfall, her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* X'kirra Ares, her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* The Lambs of Dalamud; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* Garlemald; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

::* Dravania; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom is as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, but as Nidhogg's Brood remain a real threat for all who live below, she cleaves true to her duties in scouting and mapping theaters of operation for the Alliance in general, and the Maelstrom in particular.

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T03:24:03Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*Arblis Ellhis, an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.
::*Barbarccia Valadis, the woman who complicated her life immensely.
::*Clalaris Sil Laris, an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.
::*D'ranmaia Shenn, a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.
::*Enju Abbagliato, a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.
::*Faye Covington, a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.
::*Flora Valerian, a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.
::*Ghalleon Helseth, a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.
::*Jihl Wilzuun, a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.
::*Jil'enkette Denma, a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.
::*Khira Lhizahla, a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.
::*Kiht Jakkya, a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.
::*Klynestyn Ketteram, a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.
::*Lan Darklyn, a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.
::*Lost River, a mage with a troubled history.
::*Mimi Horo, a onetime lover, now tentative friend.
::*Nihka Mioni, Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...
::*Ophelia Rainteau, a onetime lover and now friend.
::*Orrin Halgren, a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.
::*Piers Hayward, a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.
::*Reppu Hijiri, an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.
::*R'shesha Otharn, soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.
::*S'honji Hayakawa Nunh, her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.
::*Spahro Llorn, a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.
::*Sukoa no Dokusha, a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.
::*Terris Blackthorne, a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.
::*Val Nunh, a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.
::*Verad Bellveil, a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.
::*Zanzan Yanzan, a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.
::*Zaphir Zurlac, a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*X'cinna Ares, one of her many half-sisters, an alcoholic who just might have a chance at happiness.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* X'zarann Silverfall, her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* X'kirra Ares, her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* The Lambs of Dalamud; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* Garlemald; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

::* Dravania; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom is as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, but as Nidhogg's Brood remain a real threat for all who live below, she cleaves true to her duties in scouting and mapping theaters of operation for the Alliance in general, and the Maelstrom in particular.

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T03:22:42Z

Anstarra: more friendfixing

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*Arblis Ellhis, an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.
::*Barbarccia Valadis, the woman who complicated her life immensely.
::*Clalaris Sil Laris, an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.
::*D'ranmaia Shenn, a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.
::*Enju Abbagliato, a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.
::*Faye Covington, a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.
::*Flora Valerian, a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.
::*Ghalleon Helseth, a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.
::*Jihl Wilzuun, a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.
::*Jil'enkette Denma, a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.
::*Khira Lhizahla, a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.
::*Kiht Jakkya, a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.
::*Klynestyn Ketteram, a gentle giant, wise and kind, hilarious and accident-prone.
::*Lan Darklyn, a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.
::*Lost River, a mage with a troubled history.
::*Mimi Horo, a onetime lover, now tentative friend.
::*Nihka Mioni, Anstarra's betrothed and beloved, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, sweetest lover...
::*Ophelia Rainteau, a onetime lover and now friend.
::*Orrin Halgren, a brave dragoon, incorrigible ladies' man, hero and sometimes lover.
::*Piers Hayward, a good man, stronger than he knows, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.
::*Reppu Hijiri, an intriguing princess and ninja, surrounded by strife.
::*R'shesha Otharn, soul-sister to Nihka, clever and stoic, protector of her friends.
::*S'honji Hayakawa Nunh, her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.
::*Spahro Llorn, a total bitch and great friend, the two of which are not so mutually-exclusive, it turns out.
::*Sukoa no Dokusha, a shy and gentle bringer of peace, diplomat and sage and sweetheart.
::*Terris Blackthorne, a scarred refugee from a dark empire, burdened by redemption he can never earn.
::*Val Nunh, a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.
::*Verad Bellveil, a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.
::*Zanzan Yanzan, a charming and well-spoken mage, friend of the people, foe of evil.
::*Zaphir Zurlac, a deeply knowledgeable mage of mysterious connections, scarred yet persevering.

===???===
::*X'cinna Ares.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* X'zarann Silverfall, her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* X'kirra Ares, her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* The Lambs of Dalamud; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* Garlemald; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

::* Dravania; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom is as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, but as Nidhogg's Brood remain a real threat for all who live below, she cleaves true to her duties in scouting and mapping theaters of operation for the Alliance in general, and the Maelstrom in particular.

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T03:05:42Z

Anstarra: Friends updated!

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*Arblis Ellhis, an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.
::*Barbarccia Valadis, the woman who complicated her life immensely.
::*Clalaris Sil Laris, an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.
::*D'ranmaia Shenn, a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.
::*Enju Abbagliato, a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.
::*Faye Covington, a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.
::*Flora Valerian, a brave and dutiful girl who doesn't put up with An's nonsense.
::*Ghalleon Helseth, a wise and learned man, devout, and probably the prettiest priest she's ever met.
::*Jihl Wilzuun, a sweet girl who once salved her, and whom she is protective of.
::*Jil'enkette Denma, a fun-loving gladiator girl she hasn't seen in some time.
::*Khira Lhizahla, a clever and cunning adventurer, who's known the curse that love can be.
::*Kiht Jakkya, a sister-in-arms, bold hunter-scholar, reclusive yet reliable and profoundly trusted.
::*Lan Darklyn, a fellow in arms, ally, one of her oldest and most reliable friends.

::*Lost River, a mage with a troubled history.

::*Mimi Horo, a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*Nihka Mioni, Anstarra's betrothed, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, and sweetest lover...

::*Ophelia Rainteau, a onetime lover and now friend.

::*Orrin Halgren, a brave dragoon, ladies' man and sometimes lover.
::*Piers Hayward, a good man, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.
::*Reppu Hijiri, an intriguing princess and ninja.

::*S'honji Hayakawa Nunh, her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*Spahro Llorn, a quirky girl whose butt she might not kick after all.

::*Val Nunh, a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*Verad Bellveil, a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

===???===
::*X'cinna Ares.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* X'zarann Silverfall, her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* X'kirra Ares, her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* The Lambs of Dalamud; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* Garlemald; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

::* Dravania; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom is as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, but as Nidhogg's Brood remain a real threat for all who live below, she cleaves true to her duties in scouting and mapping theaters of operation for the Alliance in general, and the Maelstrom in particular.

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T02:54:30Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*Arblis Ellhis, an exceptionally fun and energetic friend of great curiosity and ambition.
::*Barbarccia Valadis, the woman who complicated her life immensely.
::*Clalaris Sil Laris, an interesting sometimes-friend, a curiosity, past kept secret.
::*D'ranmaia Shenn, a kind and devoted leader who knows not her own greatness, and how she touches the lives of others.
::*Enju Abbagliato, a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar, troubled and devoted.

::*Faye Covington, a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*Jihl Wilzuun, a sweet girl who salves her, and whom she is protective of.

::*Jil'enkette Denma, a fun-loving gladiator girl.

::*Lan Darklyn, a fellow in arms, and ally.

::*Lost River, a mage with a troubled history.

::*Mimi Horo, a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*Nihka Mioni, Anstarra's betrothed, friend to all, of deepest kindness and compassion, and sweetest lover...

::*Ophelia Rainteau, a onetime lover and now friend.

::*Orrin Halgren, a brave dragoon, ladies' man and sometimes lover.
::*Piers Hayward, a good man, handsome and kind, burdened yet unbowed.
::*Reppu Hijiri, an intriguing princess and ninja.

::*S'honji Hayakawa Nunh, her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*Spahro Llorn, a quirky girl whose butt she might not kick after all.

::*Val Nunh, a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*Verad Bellveil, a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

===???===
::*X'cinna Ares.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* X'zarann Silverfall, her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* X'kirra Ares, her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* The Lambs of Dalamud; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* Garlemald; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

::* Dravania; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom is as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, but as Nidhogg's Brood remain a real threat for all who live below, she cleaves true to her duties in scouting and mapping theaters of operation for the Alliance in general, and the Maelstrom in particular.

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T02:42:08Z

Anstarra:

<Slowly getting updated. If you want more info... find me in-game, geez!>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*Barbarccia Valadis, the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*Enju Abbagliato, a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar.

::*Faye Covington, a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*Jihl Wilzuun, a sweet girl who salves her, and whom she is protective of.

::*Jil'enkette Denma, a fun-loving gladiator girl.

::*Lan Darklyn, a fellow in arms, and ally.

::*Lost River, a mage with a troubled history.

::*Mimi Horo, a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*Nihka Mioni, a dear friend of deep kindness and compassion, and sweet lover besides.

::*Ophelia Rainteau, a onetime lover and now friend.

::*Orrin Halgren, a brave dragoon and sometimes lover.

::*Reppu Hijiri, an intriguing princess and ninja.

::*S'honji Hayakawa Nunh, her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*Spahro Llorn, a quirky girl whose butt she might not kick after all.

::*Val Nunh, a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*Verad Bellveil, a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

===???===
::*X'cinna Ares.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* X'zarann Silverfall, her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* X'kirra Ares, her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* The Lambs of Dalamud; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* Garlemald; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

::* Dravania; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom is as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, but as Nidhogg's Brood remain a real threat for all who live below, she cleaves true to her duties in scouting and mapping theaters of operation for the Alliance in general, and the Maelstrom in particular.

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T02:27:36Z

Anstarra:

<Terribly out of date wiki! But it provides background, and general info...>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*Barbarccia Valadis, the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*Enju Abbagliato, a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar.

::*Faye Covington, a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*Jihl Wilzuun, a sweet girl who salves her, and whom she is protective of.

::*Jil'enkette Denma, a fun-loving gladiator girl.

::*Lan Darklyn, a fellow in arms, and ally.

::*Lost River, a mage with a troubled history.

::*Mimi Horo, a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*Nihka Mioni, a dear friend of deep kindness and compassion, and sweet lover besides.

::*Ophelia Rainteau, a onetime lover and now friend.

::*Orrin Halgren, a brave dragoon and sometimes lover.

::*Reppu Hijiri, an intriguing princess and ninja.

::*S'honji Hayakawa Nunh, her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*Spahro Llorn, a quirky girl whose butt she might not kick after all.

::*Val Nunh, a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*Verad Bellveil, a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

===???===
::*X'cinna Ares.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* X'zarann Silverfall, her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* X'kirra Ares, her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* The Lambs of Dalamud; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* Garlemald; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

::* Dravania; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom is as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, but as Nidhogg's Brood remain a real threat for all who live below, she cleaves true to her duties in scouting and mapping theaters of operation for the Alliance in general, and the Maelstrom in particular.

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

==Annotations==

This Template was created by [[Deirdre Ta'ea]]

Anstarra Silverain

2017-01-17T02:26:03Z

Anstarra:

<Terribly out of date wiki! But it provides background, and general info...>

{{Infobox-character
| name = Anstarra Silverain
| image = AnComingStorm.png
| imagewidth = 700
| caption = A coming storm...
| title = Skybreaker...
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Gridania
| race = Miqo'te
| clan = Seeker of the Sun
| stat_1 = Tribe
| stat_1_value = Lynx ('She')
| stat_2 = Birth Name
| stat_2_value = X'anista (told to no one)
| stat_3 = Nickname(s)
| stat_3_value = An, Star
| stat_4 =
| stat_4_value =
| stat_5 =
| stat_5_value =
| stat_6 =
| stat_6_value =
}}

==Character==
===General===

This is the tale of a girl, grown from a savage tribal upbringing into an upstanding patriot of the Alliance. Her existence is dualistic, between the happy, normal(ish) life she has with [http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=9139 Dubious Distributions], and her second life as an adventurer, monster-hunter, dungeon-delver, and all-around unsung hero. Which is how she likes it: unsung. To most people, she's just a pretty girl who's pretty good with a lance.. or bow.. or blade.. or book.. or turn of phrase. Whatever the day calls for.

[[File:AnCool.png|500px]]

[[File:AnRelaxing.png|500px|right]]

===Appearance===

Anstarra stands somewhat on the short side for female miqo'te.. which of course puts her far beneath most midlander hyurs, though she carries herself like someone taller. She has full, sensuous lips, lustrous green eyes and the blue-marked white hair characteristic of her sept of the Lynx tribe (when it's not dyed, that is). She has been described as beautiful, a trait which has alternately cursed and blessed her existence.

Though she moves with supple grace and lightness of step, Anstarra is rather heavier than you would expect; this is owed to a dense, high-grade musculature that renders her far stronger than her appearance would suggest (though she DOES look athletic and toned, one would not suspect what her muscles can do, until one touches them), comparable in power to a male roegadyn of similar athletic propensity. This trait is a genetic one, possessed of all members of the Falling Stars sept.

===Behavior===

People's first impressions of Star tend to be positive. She has a pleasant, welcoming demeanor, open to discussion on a broad variety of topics. If one doesn't look too deeply, she can come off as a dilettante, willing to go along with whatever is happening, to joke and smile and flatter as the situation requires. Among closer friends and acquaintances, one can begin to glean a deeper, more complex picture. She has a startlingly deep mind, and is always interested in learning more about the world.

One thing that does not change between acquaintances and close friends; she is flirty. A touch here, a smile there, a brush of the tail... she loves physical contact, and getting people to like her for her body. There is, in her mind, a distinction between simple sex and true intimacy. Most will never know the latter, with her; as for the former, well... if her interest is piqued, if someone seems particularly deserving and shows interest... who knows what can happen?

Anstarra likes to observe, and get to know people. Of late she's even taken to writing notes, observations on happenings and people around her. As a result, she has a reputation for being bookish, which amuses her privately, and she does little to dispel it. Some might call her devious, but to her mind it is simply a form of playfulness; after all, if someone really wanted to know what she was like, they could just ask. In the meantime she lets them keep their assumptions, as she makes her own.

[[File:AnStudy.png|500px]]

==Combat==
===General===

Anstarra lives and fights with spear in hand, or at least she used to. Her tribal sept's weapon of choice, the short spear, was the only thing she brought with her when she left home. As such, she is very much at ease with it, and with any other polearm; she is rarely seen without one. Tribal proclivities aside, the spear suits her temperament, as did the training of the Gridanian Lancers' Guild, once she joined it: direct, unhesitating, focused. She has always been a prodigy with the weapon, and is ready to draw in an eyeblink, to defend her friends or her cause.

She moves lightly, but hits hard. Very few unnecessary flourishes; if she's fighting to kill, she's deadly serious. If it's a spar, she will likely be grinning; she loves a good challenge, the exchange of blows, the dance and flow of weapons and muscles. There is something beautiful about her when she fights, as if she has become more complete in some way.

In recent days, however, Anstarra has not been seen with a spear. Not since returning from her disappearance. Instead, it is more common to spy her training with bow, or fist weapon, or even sporting an arcanist's grimoire (though this might just be her notebook). She makes no claims at excellence with these weapons, though her natural abilities and a lifetime of physical training render her a formidable combatant all the same. As of yet she has offered no explanation for the absence of the weapon which so defined her life.

===Serious===

Though it is known that Anstarra graduated from being a mere Lancer to learning the ways of the Dragoon, few know the extent to which she perfected her art. To wit, she does not fight with all her skill, most of the time. When she does, against foes of true evil or the deadly beasts of the dungeons she explores, she becomes a whirling dervish of destruction; blows almost too quick to follow, landing like bolts of lightning among her foes. A battle between her and one of comparable skill is a wonder and a terror to behold.

It is yet unknown as to whether Anstarra still turns to her spear in dire straits. Even for her frontier duties at the Maelstrom's behest, she wields the bow, at least publicly.

==Tendencies==
===Likes===
::* Fish, red meats, rich sauces, sweets (particularly chocolate), alcohol.
::* Sunrises, strong wind, lightning, dappled shadows on clear water, pure cold weather, snow.
::* Physical activities, such a sparring, climbing, swimming, acrobatics, and sex. Learning new things.

===Dislikes===
::* Raw meats, too-spicy food, seafood which isn't fish, tepid drinks (she prefers very cold or very hot).
::* Rain, dull and overcast weather, too much sun when it's particularly hot, humidity.
::* Boredom, discussions which spiral in a circle, threats to her friends, condescension, hypocrisy.

===Hobbies/Talents===
::* Physical activities as a whole come to her easily and satisfy certain instinctive desires to move, and do.
::* She loves learning; her education was stunted as a tribal child, and her mind absorbs new content like a sponge. Magic in particular fascinates her, and aether sciences as a whole.
::* Social interaction. Anstarra has studied and since adopted many noble mannerisms, and can easily integrate with high society. She can also dress down and slum it on the docks, but has not had reason to do so for some time.

===Other===
::* Anstarra is a Lieutenant with the Maelstrom. She earned her officer's commission for acts of heroism and leadership during the assault on Castrum Meridianum by the Alliance. Her duties sometimes weigh heavily on her, but she is loyal, and does what needs to be done. {Essentially, when I am off at work, so is she~}
::* She never speaks of her childhood and family, except to a very select few intimates.
::* Anstarra relishes actual combat, but despises senseless conflict, especially among fellows. She has nothing but disdain for those who would betray or work against their comrades for their own interests. This disdain can translate into violence. She does not consider physical altercations to be a sign of deep wounds festering over; rather she perceives an almost purgative role in simple brawling, after which problems can be set aside.

==Relationships==
===Family===

Anstarra comes from a sept with what are considered 'traditional' values among tribal Seeker of the Sun miqo'te (strong patriarchal bend aside); as such, her father was a Nunh, and she has a fair number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older than her. Though her sire was prolific, the sept's brutal customs combine with nature's own hazards, keeping the population relatively stable.

Anstarra does not talk about her family.

There are good reasons for this, foremost being that she hates them all and would love nothing more than to see her whole sept fall into a volcanic rent. She also doesn't want anyone to go looking for them; not only would this possibly lead them back to her, but the world does not need more Falling Stars miqo'te wandering around, in Anstarra's opinion.

At this time, both her parents are dead, and the only sibling whose existence she can be sure of is X'zarann Silverfall. Her one older brother, and now technically her Nunh. She wants as little as possible to do with him, despite him being perhaps the only living being who could explain her true heritage. He, on the other hand, sees her as his destined mate, the perfect female upon which to father a dynasty that will last until the end of days. Anstarra would gladly slit his throat, but she feels she owes him a debt; he publicly murdered their father, and enabled her flight from the sept in the chaos that followed.

What she considers her true family are the hyur couple and their son who found and adopted her, a year after her escape. Living deep in the Shroud, in harmony with the elements, they eke out a living as herbalists of some small repute. Among Anstarra's happiest years were those spent with them; she still visits from time to time, and they welcome her home. Still, this connection she keeps private; she tells herself it's for their protection from her old sept, and while this is true, some part of her also yearns to keep this one part of her past pristine and untouched by the world.

===Friends===

Anstarra has met many interesting people over the course of her days. Many have marked her, in one way or another; just as many have been affected, for good or ill, by knowing her.

{This section is still under construction. Feel free to add your name, I'll toss on a comment sometime~}

::*Barbarccia Valadis, the woman who complicated her life immensely.

::*Enju Abbagliato, a dear lover and fellow warrior/scholar.

::*Faye Covington, a big sister of sorts, and symbol of nobility.

::*Jihl Wilzuun, a sweet girl who salves her, and whom she is protective of.

::*Jil'enkette Denma, a fun-loving gladiator girl.

::*Lan Darklyn, a fellow in arms, and ally.

::*Lost River, a mage with a troubled history.

::*Mimi Horo, a onetime lover, now tentative friend.

::*Nihka Mioni, a dear friend of deep kindness and compassion, and sweet lover besides.

::*Ophelia Rainteau, a onetime lover and now friend.

::*Orrin Halgren, a brave dragoon and sometimes lover.

::*Reppu Hijiri, an intriguing princess and ninja.

::*S'honji Hayakawa Nunh, her onetime mate, then friend, now drifted apart.

::*Spahro Llorn, a quirky girl whose butt she might not kick after all.

::*Val Nunh, a comrade in devotion, fellow warrior, and brother in spirit.

::*Verad Bellveil, a dubious duskwight of not-unconsiderable charm.

===???===
::*X'cinna Ares.

===Enemies===

Anstarra doesn't count many SPECIFIC enemies to her name. In fact, the only one she could name would be her brother.

::* X'zarann Silverfall, her Nunh, who had her kidnapped by cultists and subjected to strange aetherial experiments. He has his own agenda, to be sure, though if it involves dragging her kicking and screaming back to the tribe he hasn't shown it yet. For some time Anstarra was ignorant of his actions, and especially their reason.. but upon a forced showdown with him in which she was shamed and defeated, she learned much and more. Now she sees him as the ultimate threat to her existence, and will use any means to see him dead.. even as he will, to force her to submit to him.

::* X'kirra Ares, her half-sister (as are all girls of the sept born within that decade, give or take). A huntress from her sept with a fixation upon X'zarann and a serious hate for Anstarra. Kirra sees Anista as her nemesis, both for her storied and undefeated skill with a lance, and for the Nunh's obsession with her. A skilled and deadly fighter herself, she intends to show Zarann who is the more worthy mate, once and for all...

Beyond this, she considers several organizations or states to be her enemies, as do most good people of Eorzea.

::* The Lambs of Dalamud; in addition to generally being evil jerks, they kidnapped her, secreted her to a ruined old Amdapori Keep, cut her open and strategically inserted materia at focal points in her body in accordance with a terrible and agonizing ritual. The materia were subsequently removed (by Barbarccia Valadis) upon her rescue (by S'honji Hayakawa, Mimiru Miru, Val Nunh and Anstarra's brother X'zarann Silverfall Nunh) and yet their energy had dissipated into Anstarra's aether by then, and they crumbled to dust. Two patterns had been described by the stones in her body, and had glowed through her skin: on her chest, the constellation representing Azeyma, the Warden (Anstarra's deity) and on her back, that of Althyk, the Keeper (the patron of her Sept). The significance of this was obscured for some time, but in time it became clear that it was a dual-edged gift which enabled her to absorb the aether directly from digested materia, in exchange for an even more heightened sensitivity to all aether. X'zarann's hand laid in both kidnapping and rescuing her, showing the Lambs to have been but pawns... all the same, Anstarra does not so easily forgive their role in her torment.

::* Garlemald; specifically the special task force which faced off with the Harbingers, and stole a strange orb somehow related to Leviathan, which had taken up residence in the Harbingers' Primarch Zularti Vensar's head where his right eye should have been. The final outcome of the battle with those forces cost the lives of two people Anstarra considered her friends, which has led her to introspection over the pain of loss, and an extension of her circle of empathy beyond herself...

::* Dravania; Anstarra's job with the Maelstrom is as liaison to Ishgard in Coerthas, and before serving with the Harbingers she undertook Dragoon training directly from the source. She has maintained strong ties with many other Ishgardian dragoons, as well as minor members of the Great Houses, and considers Ishgard's enemies to be her own. This view has softened, in light of the difficult questions raised at the end of the Dragonsong War, but as Nidhogg's Brood remain a real threat for all who live below, she cleaves true to her duties in scouting and mapping theaters of operation for the Alliance in general, and the Maelstrom in particular.

==Rumors==
===Common Rumors===
::* "Likes the cold, don't she? Seen 'er fightin' half naked in the snow, up in Coerthas. Crazy, 'f you ask me, but damned easy on the eyes." - Maelstrom Sergeant
::* "Miss Silverain is a welcome client, affluent and fairly spoken. Nobility in the making, no doubt." - Ul'dah Banker
::* "An excellent lancer. It's no surprise that she was able to receive Dragoon training in Ishgard, despite how insular they are. Natural talent like that is not to be spat upon." - Wood Wailer

===Moderate Rumors===
::* "Shady. Yeah, she has a retainer, this fancy elezen fellow, and I seen him talking to the kinds of guys you don't bring to tea parties, you know? Making contacts, that sort of thing. You didn't hear this from me." - Brass Blade
::* "She used to be more fun. Struttin' the walkways and docks, showin' off 'er legs.. never turned down a dance or a drink. Or what comes after, 'f you catch my drift." - Lominsan Sailor
::* "It's peculiar, but I could have sworn her eyes used to be a different shade of green. And several moons prior to that, different again! Very odd." - Goldsmith

===Rare Rumors===
::* "She has a family out in the Shroud. Adopted, obviously; hyur, all three of them, herbalists who study the plants growing deep in the wood. They must have the Elementals' approval, they've been out there for many turns now." - Gridanian Woodworker
::* "She's tempered I tell ya! Saw lightnin' crackling all over her, no one else was around, she didn't have no focus or book nor nothin'! You watch her!" - Anonymous
::* "When she slew the dragon Vor'threx, she was found unconscious on the beast's shattered carcass. We thought her dead after such a fall, but no. Her armor was broken, and her nudity was concealed by scales jagged and blue-purple - like those of the fiend she struck down - which melted into her flesh before our eyes. I believe she may be some sort of dragon, or perhaps inhabited by one." - A Dragoon

===PC Rumors===
::* "Truth be told, I don't know much about her. But she is a reliable and hard working woman. She was one of the members of the Harbingers and a good friend, that means that if you mess with her, I will put you in the ground." -Lan Darklyn
::* "A very charming woman with a good sense for nonsense." - [[Verad Bellveil]]
::* "The woman thinks too highly of herself. 'Tis a most unfortunate trend with adventurers." - [[Tengri Geneq]]

==History/Timeline==

===Falling Stars===

Little is known about the reclusive Falling Stars sept of the Lynx tribe of Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te. While it is unlikely that Anstarra is the only connection between her people and the rest of the world, several factors have kept them virtually unknown. For one, their location, in the cold and little-explored lands north and east of the Black Shroud. Finding their hunting lands is difficult enough; locating the sept itself, nigh-impossible. And then there is the ingrained xenophobia and hostility of the Falling Stars Miqo'te... strangers are invariably put to death, and the hunters know their lands well enough to always find others before they are found. Rare survivors of such encounters speak of primitive hunters with unnatural speed and strength, fighting and killing with a fierce kind of joy in their demeanor...

There is much that is strange about the people of this hidden sept, as Anstarra could attest. But her adoptive parents warned her not to share what little even she knew about her people, otherwise assuredly the covetous and ambitious would seek them out. As to their true heritage, even Star has no idea.. such secrets were the domain of the males, specifically the Nunhs, whose dominance was unquestioned and all-encompassing.

What she does know is that even among xenophobic tribal recluse societies, hers was one of the worst. Endowed with a (not entirely unjustified) sense of superiority, they tend to kill outsiders like one would slay any other wild beast that comes into their territory. Bloodsport and lethal competition is the norm; quick-healing and healthy, Falling Stars hunters do not hesitate to escalate feuds instantly, nor to kill one another over comparatively-minor disputes. The exception is with the Nunh, who, due to the special powers he wields, is nigh-untouchable and seen as something like unto a God.

<spoiler>
The origins of the Falling Stars Sept can be found thousands of turns ago, during the Fifth Astral Era. The scholars of Nym, beset by foes and illness alike, sought to discover the secrets of immortality. Whether the decision to do so was fractious, or they wished to keep such dangerous research away from their own city, is unknown. Whatever the reason, a secret, subterranean base was created in the frozen north, abutting on what is now the Coerthas Central Highlands.

A small local sept of Miqo'te was chosen as test subjects; savages, yet healthy and vigorous. The life-twisting magics the scholars employed altered their specimens at a fundamental level, rendering them more easily mutable by forces of aether, and also stronger and faster, with superior muscles, the better to endure the testing. The experiments were quite successful; they even bred true to their children. Certain results could be attained by embedding materia at precise points in the subjects' bodies; after this initial 'activation', they became far more susceptible to mutation. Additionally, they gained the ability to ingest materia and gain its properties for a time.

Excited by their success, the scholars pushed harder and harder... until their subjects rose up, laid waste to their patrons, and collectively fled into the wild. The base sealed itself down, and remains buried to this day... while the descendants of those escaped subjects live on, many leagues away, forever convinced of the enmity and inherent weakness of outsiders. The secrets for materia-embedding remain in the hands of the leaders, the Nunhs, granting them the power to keep the others under their heel, when they need it... most especially the powerful secrets of materia consumption, which can make a prepared user nigh-unstoppable. </spoiler>

===Child of Savagery===
The girl X'anista was born in 1555 of the Sixth Astral Era, to X'ares Nunh and X'ennaliss Orthos. Her birth mother died when she was three years old; in accordance with custom she was raised by her aunts and cousins after this point. The only full-blooded sibling she has is X'zarann, the first child born to X'ennaliss. Anstarra never found out whether her mother somehow refused to have other children after herself, or was unable to. Her sept speaks of the dead but rarely, and usually with derision. If she and X'zarann are any indication, though, she was beautiful, as well as strong. Of course, their father was Nunh...

From a very young age, X'anista became a focus for attention. Her oldest memories involve violence.. and even in them, a spear was never far from her hand. Falling Stars kittens are taught to kill before they can walk; the grip, the grain, the balance of a thrust, the twist and slash.. and, most of all, to never be disarmed, to never be weak, to never lose. Cuts and breaks are common, as are young deaths. Scars, less so; it takes a truly deep and terrible wound to leave a scar on one of the Falling Stars, whose flesh knits and heals cleanly as part of their heritage.

X'anista was never scarred, but she did kill.

<spoiler>
Her youngest memory of deliberately taking a person's life was at eight years of age. Three other children, two her age, one a year older, had teamed up against her; she doesn't remember their names, but she remembers their faces. They had challenged and tried to hurt her twice before, in exercises, and it made her angry. She had hurt them a little, in return. Then, one night she overheard two of the older huntresses speaking, wagering on whether they would try to kill her within this moon or the next.

The following day, when groups were being formed up for sparring, she walked over to the oldest of her antagonists and put her spear through her throat, and twisted. She still remembers the shocked look, and the tears that had time to appear. The second one yelled and leapt at her. X'anista drew her spear back, and aimed it at the boy's solar plexus, and he died. His own weight bore him down, as the sharp stone tip clipped past his spine. She remembers feeling it, seeing the light leave his eyes, ilms from hers. He'd already dropped his spear.

You mustn't drop your spear, she thought. That was stupid.

The third one, another girl, stared at her, trembling, spear in hand, as X'anista pulled her weapon from her second kill. Then, she broke, turning to run. You mustn't run, either. X'anista's spear took her in the back, through a lung, and she didn't die until it was pulled out.

That was the first day she noticed her father, the Nunh, look directly at her. His gaze, and his smile, predatory and approving, still sometimes haunt her dreams.
</spoiler>

Even as a child, even among the Falling Stars warriors, her skill with a spear was remarkable. It seemed as natural as walking, as reflexive as breathing, when she used one; in training she was never alone, always partnered against older children or many at once. She was never humbled, and yet neither did she become arrogant and strutting. This, too, was talked of, as though she was possessed of an unearthly calm. In truth, from the day of her first kills, she lived with a bone-deep kind of terror that she never dared show to anyone. Years would pass, day in and day out, and always she had to surpass expectations, always she had to kill with an eyeblink. Hunting was her only solace; it was considered a waste of time to partner other children with her, and so barely more than a kitten was she pitted against full-grown coeurls and spine wolves and other beasts that could easily kill an unprepared adult hunter. This was not unheard-of, though still rare at her age. Other children tried to match her; usually they failed, or died, or both.

It came to be a relief when another child would die. One less rival, one less threat, one less source of pressure to prove herself.

Only two ever got close to her, if you can call it that. One was her older brother, X'zarann. His existence was a relief, a distraction, because among males he was being closely watched. His own skills were exceptional, and some whispered he would be Nunh someday. Perhaps he suffered no less pressure, no less fear than X'anista. They spoke little, but at least he seemed to understand the kind of madness she sometimes felt. On the other hand, the way he looked at her as she grew, as her young body began showing promise of what it would become, was not brotherly.

The other was her half-brother, X'oran. Three years older, from another mother, he was the only one to treat her with any degree of care. If his attention began to teeter between brotherly and something more mature, as she approached her flowering, he nonetheless made her comfortable in ways that no one else did. Not her aunts, who saw her as an eventual rival. And not the children, who feared, hated and envied her. And not the Nunh... who watched her, with covetous eyes. At times, X'anista would dream of freedom, or would dream that X'oran would challenge the Nunh. He was one of the best hunters, and if it was him... but, he was still young. The odds of him actually challenging the nunh were yet slim.

Then her flowering happened, and X'anista's dreams came true.

It was in her twelfth year. Her body was beginning to show curves around hip and breast, and she was constantly adapting her fighting methods, feeling ungainly and coltish, gaining ilms of height overnight it seemed. Then one night, she woke to the scent of blood, and for a moment thought one of the others had finally managed to sneak up on her in her sleep - they'd tried before - but no, the blood was not from a wound. This was far worse. There are few secrets in a sept, and hers did not outlast the coming of the dawn; her scent made it clear, and word spread like wildfire.

X'ares Nunh came to see her. The Nunh, the terrifying warrior god in living flesh, who had watched her patiently over the years, waiting for this day. Her father.

Never had she felt so naked, so small and weak, standing before him as he cupped her chin and examined her, tilting her face this way and that. As his eyes roved over her body, while the whole sept looked on. It would happen sometimes, like this, when a young huntress came of age, that he would examine her, and make his decision. Now? Later? There was never refusal, not a question of if, only when.

For X'anista, it would be tomorrow.

That day and night were the longest in her life. No other male was allowed near her, in case one would seek to poach the Nunh's right - punishable by death, but success could mean an undermining of the leader's authority, and perhaps a new Nunh. The huntresses were assiduous, though; some saw it as a punishment for the arrogance she must surely conceal. Others saw it as an honor, so young, to be taken the day after. She would still be bleeding. It was romantic, to their minds; to X'anista's, it was a nightmare. She wanted to talk to X'oran, or even X'zarann, to be reassured, or protected, or anything.. but it was impossible. She remembered seeing the stricken look on X'oran's face, briefly. X'zarann had seemed uninterested... that night, she prayed to Azeyma, that the next day she would be saved.

At noon, the impossible happened, as though in answer to her prayers. X'oran challenged their father, challenged the Nunh, for leadership. There was no circle of trial, no limits, no protocol, other than that no one was to interfere. A challenge was sacred. Space was made, and it began. X'anista watched, prayed, fear and hope filling her to bursting, as her brother fought... for her, she knew. There could be no other reason. He fought bravely, fiercely, displaying skill that no one suspected. It was as though the goddess possessed him. Spears flashed in the bright light, as the two males clashed, one young and fierce, the other old and powerful.

It was closer than it should have been. X'oran landed a cut on the Nunh's face, and X'anista dared hope for a moment.

Then the Nunh laughed, and grabbed his rival's spear, wrenching it from his grip almost contemptuously. And drove both lances through X'oran's chest, pinning him to the ground, and killing him. Then he called for a feast, and there was a feast.

X'anista remembers none of it. Perhaps she was in shock. X'oran had been left where he laid, his own spear still impaling him; her eyes kept going to the sight. People laughed and joked and cheered, and the Nunh, her father, her heart-brother's killer, had her sit by his side as the festivities continued. She had never been more unaware, more helpless than that day; anyone could have slit her throat, then, and she wouldn't have put up a fight. She almost would have welcomed it.

Which made it all the more astonishing when her father's blood exploded over her.

He had turned his head to contemplate her, his child, his trophy, his soon-to-be conquest. Perhaps that was the distraction X'zarann had been waiting for. Sitting at the Nunh's left hand, as the most honored (still-living) hunter in the sept, he'd given every evidence the whole time of enjoying the festivities, had roared as well as everyone else at X'ares' victory in the challenge, had drank and feasted. And now, without warning, breaking all custom, he moved like lightning and ripped a jagged knife across the Nunh's throat from behind. Blood showered Anstarra's face, who had just turned to look up at him. That face that displayed shock, and rage, and, for the first time in anyone's memory, fear. He gripped X'zarann's wrist, just for a moment seeming truly invincible.. and then his mouth opened wide, and a spearhead drove out of it like a protruding tongue, as X'anista's blood-brother pushed the Nunh's own spear through the back of his head with his other hand.

Mayhem ensued.

X'anista remembers little of her flight. Only two things. X'zarann's eyes, briefly meeting hers, triumphant. And snatching up X'oran's spear, from his body. She ran, and ran, and ran, shedding her blood-soaked clothes, diving through a lake, carrying only the spear, always spear in hand.

===Spear in Hand===
=====Part 1: A Young Girl in the Woods=====
Twelve years old, naked, covered in blood, fleeing through the chilly northern tundra with not a possession to her name, save only the spear which had belonged to the one person she cared about, pulled from his cold body.

Things were starting to look up for X'anista.

For she was free. Free of her tribe, of her sept, of the pressure and jealousy and deadly games... free of her father, and her brother, and the other huntresses who looked on her with envy and spite and fear. And free she intended to remain, so she did not slow in her flight; she ran for two days straight, before her first stolen nap. She ate herbs and cold meat, animals she came upon at a run, taking them by surprise and slaying them before they could react. Fish and birds and small game mostly; the larger beasts she dared not take time to butcher, and thus avoided them as best she could. X'anista had left the camp in chaos, so she knew she had a head start... what she did not know was how long it would take for the others to give chase. If they even would.

At first, her every thought was calculated into flight, but as hours turned into days without any sign of pursuit, her mind would flicker back to the events leading to her escape. How unlikely it was, how impossible, that the Nunh should be dead. And taken by surprise.. X'anista had once witnessed him snatch an arrow out of the air, an arrow that had come in from behind, out of hiding. He had been training, but she knew when he trained he did not tell the huntresses what weapons to take, and let them hide themselves beforehand. Yet he always knew. He was never bested.

X'zarann had bested him though. Killed him, suddenly and brutally. Would he be Nunh now? He had gone against all custom; that alone would be cause for dispute, maybe even outright fighting. Custom was law, was unbreakable. What would happen? All she knew, deep in her bones, was that she would see X'zarann again. His eyes had told her as much, eyes like their father's, cruel and cunning and implacable. Eyes like her own, determined and fierce and hard. Someday they would face off once more. And then... then she would see.

Eventually, the land grew warmer. It was hard to tell in the north, but down here it was summer, and so tundra gave way to grasslands, then sparse woods.. and then suddenly, like a great, dark wall, to the Black Shroud.

X'anista knew of the Shroud; the Cursed Lands, her people called it. The true limit of their territory... testament, she would later know upon studying maps of Eorzea, of their arrogance, that they should lay claim to such a massive stretch of land. All she knew at the time was that in the woods she might escape her people, who would not dare enter... and between the terror she knew and the terror she didn't, she preferred the unknown in this instance. After spending days - or was it weeks now? - in flight, not daring even to stop and make clothes for herself, carrying a spear and a hastily-obtained, uncured skin which served as a carrying bag for spare cuts of meat, she was ready to brave the ghosts and demons said to haunt the Cursed Lands if it could mean even a few hours' rest. And so, she entered, leaving the grass and open sky behind for the first time in her life, to take refuge in the dappled shadows of the Shroud.

The girl from the north had never been in a forest, yet there are certain tricks and techniques for survival that serve in good stead anywhere. Find a source of water. Shelter to sleep. Cover your tracks. Negate your scent. Mind the wind. Learn the plants. Learn the predators. Learn the prey. Falling Stars kittens had to know how to survive from the youngest age in the harshest of conditions; this was no worse, and in many ways far better, for she had no fear of being caught out and killed by one of her fellow huntresses.

Soon, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands of her youth, came to be X'anista's sanctuary. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, the consuming terror that had gripped her very soul began to ease.

She still had to be careful, of course; the Shroud was filled with predators, with poisonous plants, with hidden dangers and threats. But these were natural things, normal things, and she was stronger and faster and more lethal than anything her size had any right to be, with a young lifetime of training in awareness and hunting and survival. She never made a large print on the land; instinct, or something deeper, told her that there was.. if not a curse, then something dangerous, something aware about this place, that would not take kindly to intruders who overstepped themselves. She was used to acting small and humble, though, and here it just felt natural to do so.

And so time passed, and the seasons changed, slipping into fall, and winter. It grew cold, but never like it had been in the north, and X'anista bore it easily. Winter passed on into spring, and she never saw another soul... not until summer had come again, and before she knew it it had been a year since she had left her people. A year since she had seen ANY people; even more than before she was a savage girl, now. She'd never seen fit to replace her clothes, dressing only in scraps of pelt and thongs of dried gut which served to hold the little bags and satchels she'd made for herself, filled with self-made hunting tools, herbs, and a few pretty stones she'd found in a riverbed. Her skin was bronzed, her hair kept hacked short, her nails dirty and face smudged.

This was how the boy found her, when suddenly he appeared in her camp. The boy she would call brother, and eventually more.

<spoiler>
A dream, a memory...

The scene tears away in a scattering of wind. Wind blowing, more gently now, in a deep howl through the woods. The light gleams off his hair as you watch, hair like you've never seen before, an Outsider's hair. No highlights, just an unbroken gold, in this light. Later, when it wasn't sunset, you would note the reddish tinge to it, and far later still the term 'rolanberry blonde' would be learned, but right now all you can do is stare at this... person. At his hair, unbroken by ears. Your first, dizzy impression was that he was deaf, and mutilated, for he had no ears, and no tail, how could he even walk! Then distantly you would recall that Outsiders were like that sometimes, that they could have tiny ears and no tails, and was it any wonder they were so deaf, so slow, so clumsy?

This one seems so to you. Leaves surround you, thick leaves, verdant, vibrant, summer's foliage. Summer was different from winter, here in the Cursed Lands, you had found that out in the past year that you've existed here.

Fear ripples through the scene, but it is strange. Not the bone-deep, forever fear you've always known. You're older now. Thirteen? That seems right. The sept is far. No one chased. No one followed. Somehow. It's been a year since you ran. You've seen no one, no one at all, only beasts... and now this. An Outsider.

The fear is an apprehension, a quick spike. You're the Outsider, now. These are HIS lands. Outsiders were killed. This was law. If he saw you, he would kill you, possibly eat you. But he was entering your camp... it wasn't much, it was simple and hidden, but it has your stones and your spare spears and some pretty things - flowers, the name washes over your consciousness, a word you didn't yet know - and they are yours. Anger spikes in your heart, and you tighten your grip on your spear, and prepare to kill him.

It will be easy. He's deaf.

"Hello?"

Your eyes widen. Deaf, and stupid! Giving his position away, so loudly! It's so unbelievable that you almost drop your guard... but instead remain still. Waiting for the right moment. It could be a trick, a trap. Outsiders were tricky. He has such strange clothes. It was so warm here, yet he was covered. Like an elder, one whose skin has gone frail. His arms were exposed, and his face, and his throat, but that was it. Stupid. Strange. Curiosity burns in you. You haven't..

You haven't spoken in a year.

A shake, and sudden tension. He's walking under your tree. You ready... and then drop, hitting him. He's too surprised to cry out, your spear a bar over his throat, your hand on his mouth as you smash him to the ground. His eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at you. Eyes a dark, rich brown, like earth, like a tree. He's perfectly still; his hand was on his belt knife, but he's smart enough not to draw, since your spear slid those last ilms and now blade was against throat.

Everything is still, as he looks at you. As you look at him.

You feel him swallow, feel his heart pound under you, but his eyes... they stare at you with such fascination. You haven't seen a person - he's an Outsider! - in a year. You find yourself swallowing again, and your hand slowly lifts from his mouth, though your spear does not move an ilm.

He seems so helpless, feels so light. He's bigger, but weighs less than you. You remembered hearing Outsiders were slight, and frail, with soft muscles. It's hard to feel.. to feel threatened.

To feel afraid.

Your tail twitches a little, and you realize you've been staring at him for some time, your whole body pressed down on his, and a light flush has entered his cheeks. You blink.. and capriciously twitch a little.. and blink again as you see his flush deepen, and feel another response, down below. Somehow, rather than being unsettling.. it makes you feel good. In control. Strong.

He clears his throat, a little. Carefully; your spear hasn't moved.

"Ah.. hello. I'm Kian. Please don't kill me."

You blink at him again, and lick your lips. Swallowing, trying your throat.

"Stupid... Kian."

He blinks in return.

"Stupid Kian. Loud Kian. My camp."

He grins, brightly, and it's such a childlike, cheerful expression that you almost jerk back.

"Sorry! I.. didn't know! You're.. you're not from around here, huh? It's okay!" he adds quickly as you tense. "Plenty of Shroud for everyone, yeah? Are you.. are you alone?"

The question seems strange... and at the same time hits you in a place you didn't know existed. A shudder runs over you, and you jump back, off him.

"Alone..."

He picks himself up, moving slowly, gently, as though you were a wild animal. Perhaps you are. He nods, and slowly opens a belt pouch, pulling out a small package. You frown, curiosity intense as he undoes strings - made from what? not gut string - and opens it, revealing several small orbs the color of his eyes.

"Um.. would you like a chocolate?"

</spoiler>

It was a slow process, but eventually the young midlander named Kian gained X'anista's trust. His parents, Joan and Bors, were eccentrics who had decided to make a home for themselves deep in the Shroud. Joan had studied conjury in Stillglade Fane, in Gridania, and at each solstice and equinox would perform cleansing rituals to rid their home of woodsin. Bors was an alchemist and herbologist, also from Gridania, with a deep respect for the elementals. Like X'anista, they never took more than they needed, using only dead wood to build their house and furniture, then shoring it up through gentle conjury and alchemy until it was as comfortable as any place in the city. At times one or more of them would travel to other small outposts, or even the city itself, but such occasions were rare.

At first, it was difficult going; the savage girl their son had found could barely speak, would not sleep indoors, would not suffer to be touched, except by Kian. Bors recognized the danger in her, like a wild beast... yet his wife's heart could not help but go out to the poor girl, and in time he grew to feel the same. It took time, and patience, and there were setbacks... but at length

Finally, X'anista's old wounds began to heal over. She decided to give up her old name, to rid herself of her past, instead taking up a new one. Anstarra. She grew close to her adoptive family, her mother and father and brother, and knew love for the first time. In all its forms... for as her body properly matured, she found herself looking at Kian in different ways than before, and he, so bold at times, would blush and do the same. For though he was a couple years older than her, his family's hermit existence had given him little experience with girls... and here was one whose burgeoning beauty was lost on no one, not even her parents (to their occasional discomfort, but more frequent joy). Things started in the usual way, a tentative process of kissing and touching that quickly and suddenly blossomed into outright passion.

<spoiler>
Here, Anstarra discovered something new about herself. She who had never let herself be touched gently, who could never expect it, found that her body responded with great warmth to caresses, kisses, and other such things. She would remember how the other females in her sept seemingly abandoned themselves so completely to the Nunh's attentions, and realized that on some level this desire was in her blood. But unlike how it might have been, when she gave up her maidenhood to Kian it was a gift and not a theft; a thing of beauty and joy, rather than slavery and abandonment. From then on she determined that she would be the one to seize her passions, that she would seek pleasure with her own will, and if she gave herself up to pleasure it would always be her choice.
</spoiler>

It was at this time that Joan taught Anstarra about certain herbs that grew only in this, eastern part of the Shroud. Brewed into a tea, within three days of lovemaking, they would curtail any chance of pregnancy. This she did with a mixture of reticence and sagacity; perhaps more than Anstarra herself, Joan sensed the wild potency of the young miqo'te girl's passions. She could try to guilt her into abstinence and responsibility... or she could teach her caution, and protection, and let a soul that had known only suffering in its youth find joy however it could. For Joan saw another thing, before anyone else; that though her little Star loved Kian now, though they snuggled together and displayed all the wild and heedless adoration of youth, she knew it would not last. That this Star would travel far away, and would know many lovers, before coming to earth. The years since have not proven her wrong...

=====Part 2: A Lancer Comes=====

=====Part 3: Of Storms and Dragons=====

===The Collared Dragon===

===Moon's Widow===

===Recently...===
(10/13/2014)
It's a busy time to be Anstarra. Aside from her unrelenting (and sometimes tedious) duties for the Maelstrom, and the responsibilities she bears as a member of the Harbingers, she has become personally involved in two distinct affairs which are both tied in with her friend (and now partner-in-crime, so to speak), Verad Bellveil. One involves unfounded accusations leveled at him by the Wood Wailers of Quarrymill, and has led to becoming embroiled in a bitter conflict between desperate refugees and the ostensible forces of law and order in the Shroud. The other involves a vendetta between Verad and a nefarious criminal in Ul'dah's underworld, with his hired Brass Blade goons, and has seen Star and Verad infiltrating a warehouse and exposing illegal goods within, which was repaid by a savage beating which Verad is still recovering from, having taken sole blame for it.

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