RPC Library - User contributions [en]

Nivie Oirellain

2015-12-20T16:15:49Z

Noirelle:

{{Infobox-character
| name = Ninette Oirellain
| image = nifatar.png
| imagewidth =
| caption = Anything worth doing is worth overdoing.
| title = Bastard Heiress
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Ishgardian
| race = Elezen
| clan = Wildwood
| stat_1 = Age
| stat_1_value = 23
| stat_2 = Height
| stat_2_value = 6f2i
| stat_3 = Weight
| stat_3_value = 150pz
| stat_4 = Profession
| stat_4_value = Adventurer
| stat_5 = Patron Deity
| stat_5_value = Nald'thal (formerly Halone)
| stat_6 = Server
| stat_6_value = Balmung
}}
'Now here's an Ishgardian heiress run away from her home Ishgard once upon a time. Though she'd said that she has no intent on returning home, it seemed the cosmos would say otherwise when she found herself right back into Ishgard's now cold embrace. The self-indulgent, selfish, promiscuous adventurer who had been confident that she'd have nothing to do with it, caved to gil's siren call. Even as she swam in her nestegg, her accrued income, the need, the desire for more drove her back to where the pay was plenty and dangers far more deadly. That is to say my dearest 'niece' still refuses to meet with me and come half way. I can't fault her for wanting to spread her wings elsewhere.'

-Brucemont Oirellain.

==Appearance==
The only thing striking about the cream skinned heiress would be the deep green of her eyes. An unnatural shade that signifies her lineage to the Oirellain house, every member has it, on one or both eyes. She stands an at average height. Black hair as opposed to the brown of most of her family, a constant remind that she is still a bastard. Her hand have become a little more calloused now, gripping her knives may have done that. Where once her body may have been smooth, lithe muscles began to form and develop, a product of having to shove two blades deep into thick hide, among other inappropriate things. While she had been slim before she had decided to put a little more weight, making her curves in more revealing attire a bit more noticeable.

==History==
//If there is an existing Oirellain genealogy, I am sorry for not doing my research. As such, just treat this a minor offshoot branch whatever.

She was conceived the moment one of the Oirellain sons had an affair with their household hands. Ninette would have been the protagonist of her own rise to glory, starting out as a ratslayer in the Brume and being a champion adventuress in her own right. The cosmos had another plan for her entirely throwing that cliche trope out the window, blasting it with aetherial fire.

Ninette Oirellain, daughter to Charlotte Leclerc and an unknown father. The closest she had to a father-figure was her uncle Bruce Oirellain. She knew she had a mother but she rarely, if ever, talked to her much less see her throughout the day. From an early age she had already learned how to filter out most talk, everyone seemed bent on saying uncle Bruce was her real father. Among other things like she is an illegitimate child, she doesn't belong, she was a mistake. Perhaps that's what eventually drove her to be an overachiever, barely, to prove everyone wrong.

Of course, that isn't to say her childhood was always jarring and demeaning. The Oirellain house was generally warm to her and, more often than not, forcibly reminded her she belonged during her little fits. She was raised an heiress by her uncle, lavished with most of what she wished for. That same uncle who hadn't a beau nor children, unlike her other uncles and aunts that had cousins for her to play with. Despite her circumstances she was a relatively happy child.

Come her tenth winter, she was formally introduced to the lance and blade. Her uncle oversaw her training personally. He drilled into her the loyalty House Oirellain has always exhibited to the Haillenarte cause. That she should be doing the same when the time comes and they call for lances and blades. She was ever the obedient little soldier, though she had not tasted much in the way of actual combat save for sparring practices with her cousins and her uncle. She was afforded the same education as the rest of the family, keeping to Halone's tenets and the word of the Holy See. A model Ishgardian in almost every aspect being formed and sculpted.

By her nineteenth winter she was deemed ready along with her cousins and a few others to hopefully earn the attention of the dragoons. It would have been a prestigious time of her life. It should have been at any rate. She had tasted the disconnect between the glory tales of her elderly to the actual thing, not seconds into the encounter with a dragon that her eldest cousin, one she counted as a brother, turned into a red mist that painted the white Coerthan snow. It haunted her, even today it haunts her. Everything seemed quite pointless then. It would have been the early end of her tale had an actual dragoon not arrived on the scene. It all slipped by in a blur.

Ninette would not see combat for another winter. Instead she distracted herself by investigating the old rumours, the horse shit that said her uncle Bruce was her father. She spent her days studying her guardian, following him where he went, tailing him when he left the estate. It was all a game to her, a way to escape the harsh truth that awaited her beyond the Steps of Faith. His life seemed tame for the most part except for his evenings it looked like he was always tailing someone himself. The way she did with him. Others he'd visit her mother. Both instances always puzzled her and she endeavored to know more.

Her sleepless nights spent following her uncle and piecing together why he'd always visit mother. Her mornings spent shut in her room under the guise of illness or lethargy, the fatigue always lent credibility to either. It all changed one night at the anniversary of her cousin's death when she had followed her uncle once more and witnessed him argue with another noble. At least it looked like he was arguing with the noble. The other well dressed man began to run, her uncle a bolt of lightning following his prey, she was hot on their heels. Then she saw him pull a knife, crippling the other noble's leg. He wandered over to the fallen man and started speaking again before running the blade across the other man's throat. She gasped, admittedly a little too loud. Uncle Bruce barked in her general direction and that prompted her to run.

Except the world decided to spin and the sky turned into rough stone pathways of the Holy See.

She'd wake the next day to find her uncle and her mother in her chambers in the estate. At least she believed it was the following day but there was yet another disconnect. It seemed her mother was pregnant, very visibly so. From what she could remember no one's belly gets that big in the space of a day. In her dazed state she was fed and nursed, for she had almost been pronounced dead unable to wake for what was apparently two months. The only sign that there was hope was the fact she was still breathing in her deep dark sleep. It was then after she had eaten, after she had been apprised of the situation that her uncle decided to tell her everything, her mother the willing witness to all the revelations and the supporting voice to the claims.

First, it seemed she was not as quiet as she believed since her uncle was aware of how she had been following him. Second, he was her father. Third, she would have a sibling on the way. Fourth, all the claims that she was a bastard was true her newest sibling would be a bastard as well. Fifth, she was his daughter. Sixth, he was something called a 'dark knight' and was responsible for her two month sleep. The rest of the family didn't know about the last bit except for his paramour and now his daughter. He masqueraded as her uncle to spare her a different brand of scrutiny all together. He would continue for her little brother as well. Seventh, she exclaimed 'Nooooo' at the revelation of her uncle being her father. Eigth, her mother had to slap some sense into her.

After all was said and done, when her mother had left to return to her duties, her father asked her the most curious question. Whether or not she was actually fine. She brushed his concern off naturally, there was nothing wrong with her. That was when the voices in her head began to sprout. The one that whispered of things like freedom, one that reminded her of the futility of her training, one that slandered her father and mocked her mother. One she tried to tune out like the people in her childhood. One voice that couldn't be silenced. Ninette wanted to go to her father about this but something always held her back. She'd receive flashes of the night he had killed someone in the quiet hours of Ishgard and that froze her.

She'd spend the next winters honing her skill, broadening her understanding, going through the motions. It was that time again when she would try her hand at earning the attention of the dragoons again. Same, with her cousins and other aspirants. It was the first step to enact the plan she had hatched, one to flee Ishgard and leave it all behind. All the deception, the murder, the futility, all of it behind. The voice in her head making so many fine and strong points convincing her of its viewpoint, no one to counter argue it, no one to say otherwise. When it had asked for control as they faced the horde once more, she stepped aside, and let it execute the plan.

The guilt, the horrible feelings, all of it would flood later when she would see the great boughs of the Twelveswood make way to the scorching Thanalan heat. She turned her back on her family and she couldn't bear to turn back and meet the fruit of her sin. She walked on in a daze, following what felt right like she was moving forward in her life. She looked to down to find herself no longer garbed in the mythril haubergeon she left the Holy See in. Her lance no longer in her hands but rather a short blade on her waist. Ninette couldn't for the life of her recall how she had gotten there or why everything she did almost felt natural. She walked forward tentatively, taking step after heavy step and finally clearing the the canopy to see the Thanalan skies dotted with stars.

Her life would take another twist there being abducted not a few steps outside the Twelveswood.

A rather curious man held her captive, he had a tail, his ears were feline, he had no name. He was a miqo'te, how she had known what he was puzzled her but that was what her captor was. What followed was an indignation of a high magnitude and the budding start of one of Ninette's biggest vices. It was her first taste and it was the most addicting one yet. Hands would change and she would be in the possession of a group this time. The same delicious violations happened again, spread over some period. It continued until she arrived in Ul'dah, along with other girls like her.

Perhaps it was her unusual accent or her appearance but she went for quite the premium or so she'd overhear. The same voice began to speak to her again, giving her another plan. One that would take place over the course of the entire summer. She'd capitalize on her rarity, charge a little bit more than usual, perform her best, hope that a bonus under the table came her way. At the end of it all, she managed to buy her freedom thanks to a few risky gambles.

She had little to her name as a freed woman however, rectifying that by doing what she believe she did best. Sex. In exchange for gil, for favors, for information. It was all she could offer and she always believed she walked away with one more thing than the man or woman indulging her. It earned her her office, her blades, all her ensembles, funding for her food, et cetera. For the first part of her stay in Ul'dah at least. The boon that would help her get on her feet was her father's constant efforts to bring her back, he'd eventually leave her to her persistence and Ul'dah as she was adamant about staying and finally choosing where she wants to go.

It puzzled her why he'd surrender so easily. He didn't cut ties with her, he didn't abandon nor disown her as eventually a Gridanian merchant coming in would look for her, ask for a private session and deliver to her the nestegg she had kept in her chambers and a missive from her father before leaving her to her devices. That same merchant would visit her regularly and deliver the same missives and wait for her responses if any. She put a part of her nestegg to work but still relied on her body to earn until she'd find a different kind of benefit in levequests. The method to which she'd begin to explore Eorzea.

So there, not the story of a brume rat working her way to notoriety and then fame as a champion adventurer but something else entirely. Ah but her story continues to be written, some say she's come and gone to Ishgard a few times recently.

==Personality==

==Affiliations and Known Associates==

==Characteristics==
* '''Nicknames''': Nivie, Heiress, Rose, Envy
* '''Age''': 23
** '''Nameday''': 9th of the Seventh Umbral
* '''Gender''': Female
** '''Sexuality''': Bisexual with a preference for men
** '''Marital Status''': Single
* '''Alignment''': Chaotic neutral
* '''Height''': 6f2i
* '''Weight''': 150pz
* '''Body''': Lithe
* '''Hair''': Black
* '''Eyes''': Green
* '''Skin''': Cream
* '''Clothing''': A lot of outfits

===Likes===
* Ishgard
* Ul'dah
*
*
*

===Dislikes===
* Ishgard
* Ul'dah
*
*
*

===Areas of Expertise===
* '''Martial''':
* '''Crafting''':
* '''Other''':

===Strengths===
*
*
*
*
*

===Weaknesses===
*
*
*
*
*

==Other Notes==
===Religion===
Like any good Ishgardian she had been a follower of Halone. Not devout, mind you, paying as far as lip service and following the lead of her family like a practiced mummer doing her routine. Upon being thrust into Ul'dah she had since shifted to Nald'thal, even then she knows nothing beyond riches and commerce that he is supposedly a patron of. Religious is something she isn't, her faith is in the transactions and gil she makes.

===Quirks===
She is really really shameless.

She has a habit of running her mouth more than what is necessary, especially talking about herself.

She hallucinates people every now and then, also talks to them, albeit one sided conversation. //Especially those that afk a few seconds after I /em at them.

Speaking of one sided conversations, she sometimes speaks her surface thoughts aloud. All that idle musing.

Did I mention she likes hearing her voice? Yes sometimes she talks to herself, especially when the Quicksand is dry.

Yes she has an f-list. Just ask :>

===Equipment===
It varies really. Hardened leathers and hides, Steel armors, very skimpy cloth robes, hempen shirts and pants. Really whatever catches her fancy.

Her weapons consist of a pair of reworked Doman shortblades as well as zweihander made with lighter materials.

===Rumours===
The following rumours can be heard about Ninette. (If your character has an opinion about her, feel free to add it here.)

====Common rumours====
* (Ishgard) "Heard about the heiress who ran anyway? Guess she came crawling back to leech off her family again." - Nosy Noble.
* (Ul'dah) "That Nivie? Ah yeah, nice body, easy on the eyes. I hear she beds anyone if the right price." - Idling Idler.
* (Ul'dah) "Shameless is what she is. Don't rightly know what to say about a girl like that, as long as she stays away from my man." - Worried Wife.
* (Ishgard) "A bastard and an outsider. House Oirellain is falling if they're going that far down to send more bodies to aid in the Haillenarte effort." - Discerning Duke.
* (Ul'dah) "A reliable blade she is. A bit unorthodox but reliable all the same, fought along side her once or twice. She could be less reckless however, considerably so. " - Maternal Mercenary

====Uncommon rumours====
* (Ul'dah) "Hear that Nivie girl's going on about alchemy. Haven't seen her mix her own cocktails though." -Musing Matron.
* (Ul'dah) "Some say she's...well let's just say she's a very filthy girl. Limits do NOT exist in her world." - Smirking sutler.

====Rare rumours====
* (Ishgard) "I hear she has the power of the Dark Knights. You don't just up and be selfish like that to a very good man for no reason at all. There's something wrong with the girl to be honest." - Credible Chamberlain.

====What PCs are saying====


* "Angry and petulant about a nation that no longer exists as she sees it. Would rather see Ishgard burn than help in its reconstruction." -- Orrin Halgren

===Known Haunts===
You might have run into or otherwise know Ninette from:
* Ul'dah
* Ishgard

File:Nifatar.png

2015-12-20T16:10:42Z

Noirelle:

Nivie Oirellain

2015-12-13T11:21:28Z

Noirelle:

{{Infobox-character
| name = Ninette Oirellain
| image = noirelle.png
| imagewidth =
| caption = Anything worth doing is worth overdoing.
| title = Bastard Heiress
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Ishgardian
| race = Hyur
| clan = Midlander
| stat_1 = Age
| stat_1_value = 23
| stat_2 = Height
| stat_2_value = 5f6i
| stat_3 = Weight
| stat_3_value = 135po
| stat_4 = Profession
| stat_4_value = Adventurer
| stat_5 = Patron Deity
| stat_5_value = Nald'thal (formerly Halone)
| stat_6 = Server
| stat_6_value = Balmung
}}
'Now here's an Ishgardian heiress run away from her home Ishgard once upon a time. Though she'd said that she has no intent on returning home, it seemed the cosmos would say otherwise when she found herself right back into Ishgard's now cold embrace. The self-indulgent, selfish, promiscuous adventurer who had been confident that she'd have nothing to do with it, caved to gil's siren call. Even as she swam in her nestegg, her accrued income, the need, the desire for more drove her back to where the pay was plenty and dangers far more deadly. That is to say my dearest 'niece' still refuses to meet with me and come half way. I can't fault her for wanting to spread her wings elsewhere.'

-Bruce Oirellain.

==Appearance==
The only thing striking about the cream skinned heiress would be the deep green of her eyes. An unnatural shade that signifies her lineage to the Oirellain house, every member has it, on one or both eyes. She stands an at average height. Black hair as opposed to the brown of most of her family, a constant remind that she is still a bastard. Her hand have become a little more calloused now, gripping her knives may have done that. Where once her body may have been smooth, lithe muscles began to form and develop, a product of having to shove two blades deep into thick hide, among other inappropriate things. While she had been slim before she had decided to put a little more weight, making her curves in more revealing attire a bit more noticeable.

==History==
//If there is an existing Oirellain genealogy, I am sorry for not doing my research. As such, just treat this a minor offshoot branch whatever. I'll keep this from mentioning whether little Ninette is a Midlander or a Wildwood. In case I really absolutely HAVE to be Elezen for it to work.

She was conceived the moment one of the Oirellain sons had an affair with their household hands. Ninette would have been the protagonist of her own rise to glory, starting out as a ratslayer in the Brume and being a champion adventuress in her own right. The cosmos had another plan for her entirely throwing that cliche trope out the window, blasting it with aetherial fire.

Ninette Oirellain, daughter to Charlotte Leclerc and an unknown father. The closest she had to a father-figure was her uncle Bruce Oirellain. She knew she had a mother but she rarely, if ever, talked to her much less see her throughout the day. From an early age she had already learned how to filter out most talk, everyone seemed bent on saying uncle Bruce was her real father. Among other things like she is an illegitimate child, she doesn't belong, she was a mistake. Perhaps that's what eventually drove her to be an overachiever, barely, to prove everyone wrong.

Of course, that isn't to say her childhood was always jarring and demeaning. The Oirellain house was generally warm to her and, more often than not, forcibly reminded her she belonged during her little fits. She was raised an heiress by her uncle, lavished with most of what she wished for. That same uncle who hadn't a beau nor children, unlike her other uncles and aunts that had cousins for her to play with. Despite her circumstances she was a relatively happy child.

Come her tenth winter, she was formally introduced to the lance and blade. Her uncle oversaw her training personally. He drilled into her the loyalty House Oirellain has always exhibited to the Haillenarte cause. That she should be doing the same when the time comes and they call for lances and blades. She was ever the obedient little soldier, though she had not tasted much in the way of actual combat save for sparring practices with her cousins and her uncle. She was afforded the same education as the rest of the family, keeping to Halone's tenets and the word of the Holy See. A model Ishgardian in almost every aspect being formed and sculpted.

By her nineteenth winter she was deemed ready along with her cousins and a few others to hopefully earn the attention of the dragoons. It would have been a prestigious time of her life. It should have been at any rate. She had tasted the disconnect between the glory tales of her elderly to the actual thing, not seconds into the encounter with a dragon that her eldest cousin, one she counted as a brother, turned into a red mist that painted the white Coerthan snow. It haunted her, even today it haunts her. Everything seemed quite pointless then. It would have been the early end of her tale had an actual dragoon not arrived on the scene. It all slipped by in a blur.

Ninette would not see combat for another winter. Instead she distracted herself by investigating the old rumours, the horse shit that said her uncle Bruce was her father. She spent her days studying her guardian, following him where he went, tailing him when he left the estate. It was all a game to her, a way to escape the harsh truth that awaited her beyond the Steps of Faith. His life seemed tame for the most part except for his evenings it looked like he was always tailing someone himself. The way she did with him. Others he'd visit her mother. Both instances always puzzled her and she endeavored to know more.

Her sleepless nights spent following her uncle and piecing together why he'd always visit mother. Her mornings spent shut in her room under the guise of illness or lethargy, the fatigue always lent credibility to either. It all changed one night at the anniversary of her cousin's death when she had followed her uncle once more and witnessed him argue with another noble. At least it looked like he was arguing with the noble. The other well dressed man began to run, her uncle a bolt of lightning following his prey, she was hot on their heels. Then she saw him pull a knife, crippling the other noble's leg. He wandered over to the fallen man and started speaking again before running the blade across the other man's throat. She gasped, admittedly a little too loud. Uncle Bruce barked in her general direction and that prompted her to run.

Except the world decided to spin and the sky turned into rough stone pathways of the Holy See.

She'd wake the next day to find her uncle and her mother in her chambers in the estate. At least she believed it was the following day but there was yet another disconnect. It seemed her mother was pregnant, very visibly so. From what she could remember no one's belly gets that big in the space of a day. In her dazed state she was fed and nursed, for she had almost been pronounced dead unable to wake for what was apparently two months. The only sign that there was hope was the fact she was still breathing in her deep dark sleep. It was then after she had eaten, after she had been apprised of the situation that her uncle decided to tell her everything, her mother the willing witness to all the revelations and the supporting voice to the claims.

First, it seemed she was not as quiet as she believed since her uncle was aware of how she had been following him. Second, he was her father. Third, she would have a sibling on the way. Fourth, all the claims that she was a bastard was true her newest sibling would be a bastard as well. Fifth, she was his daughter. Sixth, he was something called a 'dark knight' and was responsible for her two month sleep. The rest of the family didn't know about the last bit except for his paramour and now his daughter. He masqueraded as her uncle to spare her a different brand of scrutiny all together. He would continue for her little brother as well. Seventh, she exclaimed 'Nooooo' at the revelation of her uncle being her father. Eigth, her mother had to slap some sense into her.

After all was said and done, when her mother had left to return to her duties, her father asked her the most curious question. Whether or not she was actually fine. She brushed his concern off naturally, there was nothing wrong with her. That was when the voices in her head began to sprout. The one that whispered of things like freedom, one that reminded her of the futility of her training, one that slandered her father and mocked her mother. One she tried to tune out like the people in her childhood. One voice that couldn't be silenced. Ninette wanted to go to her father about this but something always held her back. She'd receive flashes of the night he had killed someone in the quiet hours of Ishgard and that froze her.

She'd spend the next winters honing her skill, broadening her understanding, going through the motions. It was that time again when she would try her hand at earning the attention of the dragoons again. Same, with her cousins and other aspirants. It was the first step to enact the plan she had hatched, one to flee Ishgard and leave it all behind. All the deception, the murder, the futility, all of it behind. The voice in her head making so many fine and strong points convincing her of its viewpoint, no one to counter argue it, no one to say otherwise. When it had asked for control as they faced the horde once more, she stepped aside, and let it execute the plan.

The guilt, the horrible feelings, all of it would flood later when she would see the great boughs of the Twelveswood make way to the scorching Thanalan heat. She turned her back on her family and she couldn't bear to turn back and meet the fruit of her sin. She walked on in a daze, following what felt right like she was moving forward in her life. She looked to down to find herself no longer garbed in the mythril haubergeon she left the Holy See in. Her lance no longer in her hands but rather a short blade on her waist. Ninette couldn't for the life of her recall how she had gotten there or why everything she did almost felt natural. She walked forward tentatively, taking step after heavy step and finally clearing the the canopy to see the Thanalan skies dotted with stars.

Her life would take another twist there being abducted not a few steps outside the Twelveswood.

A rather curious man held her captive, he had a tail, his ears were feline, he had no name. He was a miqo'te, how she had known what he was puzzled her but that was what her captor was. What followed was an indignation of a high magnitude and the budding start of one of Ninette's biggest vices. It was her first taste and it was the most addicting one yet. Hands would change and she would be in the possession of a group this time. The same delicious violations happened again, spread over some period. It continued until she arrived in Ul'dah, along with other girls like her.

Perhaps it was her unusual accent or her appearance but she went for quite the premium or so she'd overhear. The same voice began to speak to her again, giving her another plan. One that would take place over the course of the entire summer. She'd capitalize on her rarity, charge a little bit more than usual, perform her best, hope that a bonus under the table came her way. At the end of it all, she managed to buy her freedom thanks to a few risky gambles.

She had little to her name as a freed woman however, rectifying that by doing what she believe she did best. Sex. In exchange for gil, for favors, for information. It was all she could offer and she always believed she walked away with one more thing than the man or woman indulging her. It earned her her office, her blades, all her ensembles, funding for her food, et cetera. For the first part of her stay in Ul'dah at least. The boon that would help her get on her feet was her father's constant efforts to bring her back, he'd eventually leave her to her persistence and Ul'dah as she was adamant about staying and finally choosing where she wants to go.

It puzzled her why he'd surrender so easily. He didn't cut ties with her, he didn't abandon nor disown her as eventually a Gridanian merchant coming in would look for her, ask for a private session and deliver to her the nestegg she had kept in her chambers and a missive from her father before leaving her to her devices. That same merchant would visit her regularly and deliver the same missives and wait for her responses if any. She put a part of her nestegg to work but still relied on her body to earn until she'd find a different kind of benefit in levequests. The method to which she'd begin to explore Eorzea.

So there, not the story of a brume rat working her way to notoriety and then fame as a champion adventurer but something else entirely. Ah but her story continues to be written, some say she's come and gone to Ishgard a few times recently.

==Personality==

==Affiliations and Known Associates==

==Characteristics==
* '''Nicknames''': Nivie, Heiress, Rose, Envy
* '''Age''': 23
** '''Nameday''': 9th of the Seventh Umbral
* '''Gender''': Female
** '''Sexuality''': Bisexual with a preference for men
** '''Marital Status''': Single
* '''Alignment''': Chaotic neutral
* '''Height''': 5f6i
* '''Weight''': 135po
* '''Body''': Lithe
* '''Hair''': Black
* '''Eyes''': Green
* '''Skin''': Cream
* '''Clothing''': A lot of outfits

===Likes===
* Ishgard
* Ul'dah
*
*
*

===Dislikes===
* Ishgard
* Ul'dah
*
*
*

===Areas of Expertise===
* '''Martial''':
* '''Crafting''':
* '''Other''':

===Strengths===
*
*
*
*
*

===Weaknesses===
*
*
*
*
*

==Other Notes==
===Religion===
Like any good Ishgardian she had been a follower of Halone. Not devout, mind you, paying as far as lip service and following the lead of her family like a practiced mummer doing her routine. Upon being thrust into Ul'dah she had since shifted to Nald'thal, even then she knows nothing beyond riches and commerce that he is supposedly a patron of. Religious is something she isn't, her faith is in the transactions and gil she makes.

===Quirks===
She is really really shameless.

She has a habit of running her mouth more than what is necessary, especially talking about herself.

She hallucinates people every now and then, also talks to them, albeit one sided conversation. //Especially those that afk a few seconds after I /em at them.

Speaking of one sided conversations, she sometimes speaks her surface thoughts aloud. All that idle musing.

Did I mention she likes hearing her voice? Yes sometimes she talks to herself, especially when the Quicksand is dry.

Yes she has an f-list. Just ask :>

===Equipment===
It varies really. Hardened leathers and hides, Steel armors, very skimpy cloth robes, hempen shirts and pants. Really whatever catches her fancy.

Her weapon at the moment is a pair of the mass-produced Gegenji Ohojos as well as a run of the mill Zweihander.

A personal commission and Yoshimitsu Replica upgrade is in the works courtesy of Master Chachanji Gegenji to replace the Ohojos.

===Rumours===
The following rumours can be heard about Ninette. (If your character has an opinion about her, feel free to add it here.)

====Common rumours====
* (Ishgard) "Heard about the heiress who ran anyway? Guess she came crawling back to leech off her family again." - Nosy Noble.
* (Ul'dah) "That Nivie? Ah yeah, nice body, easy on the eyes. I hear she beds anyone if the right price." - Idling Idler.
* (Ul'dah) "Shameless is what she is. Don't rightly know what to say about a girl like that, as long as she stays away from my man." - Worried Wife.
* (Ishgard) "A bastard and an outsider. House Oirellain is falling if they're going that far down to send more bodies to aid in the Haillenarte effort." - Discerning Duke.
* (Ul'dah) "A reliable blade she is. A bit unorthodox but reliable all the same, fought along side her once or twice. She could be less reckless however, considerably so. " - Maternal Mercenary

====Uncommon rumours====
* (Ul'dah) "Hear that Nivie girl's going on about alchemy. Haven't seen her mix her own cocktails though." -Musing Matron.
* (Ul'dah) "Some say she's...well let's just say she's a very filthy girl. Limits do NOT exist in her world." - Smirking sutler.

====Rare rumours====
* (Ishgard) "I hear she has the power of the Dark Knights. You don't just up and be selfish like that to a very good man for no reason at all. There's something wrong with the girl to be honest." - Credible Chamberlain.

====What PCs are saying====


===Known Haunts===
You might have run into or otherwise know Ninette from:
* Ul'dah
* Ishgard

Nivie Oirellain

2015-12-13T10:24:52Z

Noirelle: /* Dislikes */

{{Infobox-character
| name = Ninette Oirellain
| image = noirelle.png
| imagewidth =
| caption = Anything worth doing is worth doing it well.
| title = Bastard Heiress
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Ishgardian
| race = Hyur
| clan = Midlander
| stat_1 = Age
| stat_1_value = 23
| stat_2 = Height
| stat_2_value = 5f6i
| stat_3 = Weight
| stat_3_value = 135po
| stat_4 = Profession
| stat_4_value = Adventurer
| stat_5 = Patron Deity
| stat_5_value = Nald'thal (formerly Halone)
| stat_6 = Server
| stat_6_value = Balmung
}}
'Now here's an Ishgardian heiress run away from her home Ishgard once upon a time. Though she'd said that she has no intent on returning home, it seemed the cosmos would say otherwise when she found herself right back into Ishgard's now cold embrace. The self-indulgent, selfish, promiscuous adventurer who had been confident that she'd have nothing to do with it, caved to gil's siren call. Even as she swam in her nestegg, her accrued income, the need, the desire for more drove her back to where the pay was plenty and dangers far more deadly. That is to say my dearest 'niece' still refuses to meet with me and come half way. I can't fault her for wanting to spread her wings elsewhere.'

-Bruce Oirellain.

==Appearance==
The only thing striking about the cream skinned heiress would be the deep green of her eyes. An unnatural shade that signifies her lineage to the Oirellain house, every member has it, on one or both eyes. She stands an at average height. Black hair as opposed to the brown of most of her family, a constant remind that she is still a bastard. Her hand have become a little more calloused now, gripping her knives may have done that. Where once her body may have been smooth, lithe muscles began to form and develop, a product of having to shove two blades deep into thick hide, among other inappropriate things. While she had been slim before she had decided to put a little more weight, making her curves in more revealing attire a bit more noticeable.

==History==
//If there is an existing Oirellain genealogy, I am sorry for not doing my research. As such, just treat this a minor offshoot branch whatever. I'll keep this from mentioning whether little Ninette is a Midlander or a Wildwood. In case I really absolutely HAVE to be Elezen for it to work.

She was conceived the moment one of the Oirellain sons had an affair with their household hands. Ninette would have been the protagonist of her own rise to glory, starting out as a ratslayer in the Brume and being a champion adventuress in her own right. The cosmos had another plan for her entirely throwing that cliche trope out the window, blasting it with aetherial fire.

Ninette Oirellain, daughter to Charlotte Leclerc and an unknown father. The closest she had to a father-figure was her uncle Bruce Oirellain. She knew she had a mother but she rarely, if ever, talked to her much less see her throughout the day. From an early age she had already learned how to filter out most talk, everyone seemed bent on saying uncle Bruce was her real father. Among other things like she is an illegitimate child, she doesn't belong, she was a mistake. Perhaps that's what eventually drove her to be an overachiever, barely, to prove everyone wrong.

Of course, that isn't to say her childhood was always jarring and demeaning. The Oirellain house was generally warm to her and, more often than not, forcibly reminded her she belonged during her little fits. She was raised an heiress by her uncle, lavished with most of what she wished for. That same uncle who hadn't a beau nor children, unlike her other uncles and aunts that had cousins for her to play with. Despite her circumstances she was a relatively happy child.

Come her tenth winter, she was formally introduced to the lance and blade. Her uncle oversaw her training personally. He drilled into her the loyalty House Oirellain has always exhibited to the Haillenarte cause. That she should be doing the same when the time comes and they call for lances and blades. She was ever the obedient little soldier, though she had not tasted much in the way of actual combat save for sparring practices with her cousins and her uncle. She was afforded the same education as the rest of the family, keeping to Halone's tenets and the word of the Holy See. A model Ishgardian in almost every aspect being formed and sculpted.

By her nineteenth winter she was deemed ready along with her cousins and a few others to hopefully earn the attention of the dragoons. It would have been a prestigious time of her life. It should have been at any rate. She had tasted the disconnect between the glory tales of her elderly to the actual thing, not seconds into the encounter with a dragon that her eldest cousin, one she counted as a brother, turned into a red mist that painted the white Coerthan snow. It haunted her, even today it haunts her. Everything seemed quite pointless then. It would have been the early end of her tale had an actual dragoon not arrived on the scene. It all slipped by in a blur.

Ninette would not see combat for another winter. Instead she distracted herself by investigating the old rumours, the horse shit that said her uncle Bruce was her father. She spent her days studying her guardian, following him where he went, tailing him when he left the estate. It was all a game to her, a way to escape the harsh truth that awaited her beyond the Steps of Faith. His life seemed tame for the most part except for his evenings it looked like he was always tailing someone himself. The way she did with him. Others he'd visit her mother. Both instances always puzzled her and she endeavored to know more.

Her sleepless nights spent following her uncle and piecing together why he'd always visit mother. Her mornings spent shut in her room under the guise of illness or lethargy, the fatigue always lent credibility to either. It all changed one night at the anniversary of her cousin's death when she had followed her uncle once more and witnessed him argue with another noble. At least it looked like he was arguing with the noble. The other well dressed man began to run, her uncle a bolt of lightning following his prey, she was hot on their heels. Then she saw him pull a knife, crippling the other noble's leg. He wandered over to the fallen man and started speaking again before running the blade across the other man's throat. She gasped, admittedly a little too loud. Uncle Bruce barked in her general direction and that prompted her to run.

Except the world decided to spin and the sky turned into rough stone pathways of the Holy See.

She'd wake the next day to find her uncle and her mother in her chambers in the estate. At least she believed it was the following day but there was yet another disconnect. It seemed her mother was pregnant, very visibly so. From what she could remember no one's belly gets that big in the space of a day. In her dazed state she was fed and nursed, for she had almost been pronounced dead unable to wake for what was apparently two months. The only sign that there was hope was the fact she was still breathing in her deep dark sleep. It was then after she had eaten, after she had been apprised of the situation that her uncle decided to tell her everything, her mother the willing witness to all the revelations and the supporting voice to the claims.

First, it seemed she was not as quiet as she believed since her uncle was aware of how she had been following him. Second, he was her father. Third, she would have a sibling on the way. Fourth, all the claims that she was a bastard was true her newest sibling would be a bastard as well. Fifth, she was his daughter. Sixth, he was something called a 'dark knight' and was responsible for her two month sleep. The rest of the family didn't know about the last bit except for his paramour and now his daughter. He masqueraded as her uncle to spare her a different brand of scrutiny all together. He would continue for her little brother as well. Seventh, she exclaimed 'Nooooo' at the revelation of her uncle being her father. Eigth, her mother had to slap some sense into her.

After all was said and done, when her mother had left to return to her duties, her father asked her the most curious question. Whether or not she was actually fine. She brushed his concern off naturally, there was nothing wrong with her. That was when the voices in her head began to sprout. The one that whispered of things like freedom, one that reminded her of the futility of her training, one that slandered her father and mocked her mother. One she tried to tune out like the people in her childhood. One voice that couldn't be silenced. Ninette wanted to go to her father about this but something always held her back. She'd receive flashes of the night he had killed someone in the quiet hours of Ishgard and that froze her.

She'd spend the next winters honing her skill, broadening her understanding, going through the motions. It was that time again when she would try her hand at earning the attention of the dragoons again. Same, with her cousins and other aspirants. It was the first step to enact the plan she had hatched, one to flee Ishgard and leave it all behind. All the deception, the murder, the futility, all of it behind. The voice in her head making so many fine and strong points convincing her of its viewpoint, no one to counter argue it, no one to say otherwise. When it had asked for control as they faced the horde once more, she stepped aside, and let it execute the plan.

The guilt, the horrible feelings, all of it would flood later when she would see the great boughs of the Twelveswood make way to the scorching Thanalan heat. She turned her back on her family and she couldn't bear to turn back and meet the fruit of her sin. She walked on in a daze, following what felt right like she was moving forward in her life. She looked to down to find herself no longer garbed in the mythril haubergeon she left the Holy See in. Her lance no longer in her hands but rather a short blade on her waist. Ninette couldn't for the life of her recall how she had gotten there or why everything she did almost felt natural. She walked forward tentatively, taking step after heavy step and finally clearing the the canopy to see the Thanalan skies dotted with stars.

Her life would take another twist there being abducted not a few steps outside the Twelveswood.

A rather curious man held her captive, he had a tail, his ears were feline, he had no name. He was a miqo'te, how she had known what he was puzzled her but that was what her captor was. What followed was an indignation of a high magnitude and the budding start of one of Ninette's biggest vices. It was her first taste and it was the most addicting one yet. Hands would change and she would be in the possession of a group this time. The same delicious violations happened again, spread over some period. It continued until she arrived in Ul'dah, along with other girls like her.

Perhaps it was her unusual accent or her appearance but she went for quite the premium or so she'd overhear. The same voice began to speak to her again, giving her another plan. One that would take place over the course of the entire summer. She'd capitalize on her rarity, charge a little bit more than usual, perform her best, hope that a bonus under the table came her way. At the end of it all, she managed to buy her freedom thanks to a few risky gambles.

She had little to her name as a freed woman however, rectifying that by doing what she believe she did best. Sex. In exchange for gil, for favors, for information. It was all she could offer and she always believed she walked away with one more thing than the man or woman indulging her. It earned her her office, her blades, all her ensembles, funding for her food, et cetera. For the first part of her stay in Ul'dah at least. The boon that would help her get on her feet was her father's constant efforts to bring her back, he'd eventually leave her to her persistence and Ul'dah as she was adamant about staying and finally choosing where she wants to go.

It puzzled her why he'd surrender so easily. He didn't cut ties with her, he didn't abandon nor disown her as eventually a Gridanian merchant coming in would look for her, ask for a private session and deliver to her the nestegg she had kept in her chambers and a missive from her father before leaving her to her devices. That same merchant would visit her regularly and deliver the same missives and wait for her responses if any. She put a part of her nestegg to work but still relied on her body to earn until she'd find a different kind of benefit in levequests. The method to which she'd begin to explore Eorzea.

So there, not the story of a brume rat working her way to notoriety and then fame as a champion adventurer but something else entirely. Ah but her story continues to be written, some say she's come and gone to Ishgard a few times recently.

==Personality==

==Affiliations and Known Associates==

==Characteristics==
* '''Nicknames''': Nivie, Heiress, Rose, Envy
* '''Age''': 23
** '''Nameday''': 9th of the Seventh Umbral
* '''Gender''': Female
** '''Sexuality''': Bisexual with a preference for men
** '''Marital Status''': Single
* '''Alignment''': Chaotic neutral
* '''Height''': 5f6i
* '''Weight''': 135po
* '''Body''': Lithe
* '''Hair''': Black
* '''Eyes''': Green
* '''Skin''': Cream
* '''Clothing''': A lot of outfits

===Likes===
* Ishgard
* Ul'dah
*
*
*

===Dislikes===
* Ishgard
* Ul'dah
*
*
*

===Areas of Expertise===
* '''Martial''':
* '''Crafting''':
* '''Other''':

===Strengths===
*
*
*
*
*

===Weaknesses===
*
*
*
*
*

==Other Notes==
===Religion===
Like any good Ishgardian she had been a follower of Halone. Not devout, mind you, paying as far as lip service and following the lead of her family like a practiced mummer doing her routine. Upon being thrust into Ul'dah she had since shifted to Nald'thal, even then she knows nothing beyond riches and commerce that he is supposedly a patron of. Religious is something she isn't, her faith is in the transactions and gil she makes.

===Quirks===
She is really really shameless.

She has a habit of running her mouth more than what is necessary, especially talking about herself.

She hallucinates people every now and then, also talks to them, albeit one sided conversation. //Especially those that afk a few seconds after I /em at them.

Speaking of one sided conversations, she sometimes speaks her surface thoughts aloud. All that idle musing.

Did I mention she likes hearing her voice? Yes sometimes she talks to herself, especially when the Quicksand is dry.

Yes she has an f-list. Just ask :>

===Equipment===
It varies really. Hardened leathers and hides, Steel armors, very skimpy cloth robes, hempen shirts and pants. Really whatever catches her fancy.

Her weapon at the moment is a pair of the mass-produced Gegenji Ohojos as well as a run of the mill Zweihander.

A personal commission and Yoshimitsu Replica upgrade is in the works courtesy of Master Chachanji Gegenji to replace the Ohojos.

===Rumours===
The following rumours can be heard about Ninette. (If your character has an opinion about her, feel free to add it here.)

====Common rumours====
* (Ishgard) "Heard about the heiress who ran anyway? Guess she came crawling back to leech off her family again." - Nosy Noble.
* (Ul'dah) "That Nivie? Ah yeah, nice body, easy on the eyes. I hear she beds anyone if the right price." - Idling Idler.
* (Ul'dah) "Shameless is what she is. Don't rightly know what to say about a girl like that, as long as she stays away from my man." - Worried Wife.
* (Ishgard) "A bastard and an outsider. House Oirellain is falling if they're going that far down to send more bodies to aid in the Haillenarte effort." - Discerning Duke.
* (Ul'dah) "A reliable blade she is. A bit unorthodox but reliable all the same, fought along side her once or twice. She could be less reckless however, considerably so. " - Maternal Mercenary

====Uncommon rumours====
* (Ul'dah) "Hear that Nivie girl's going on about alchemy. Haven't seen her mix her own cocktails though." -Musing Matron.
* (Ul'dah) "Some say she's...well let's just say she's a very filthy girl. Limits do NOT exist in her world." - Smirking sutler.

====Rare rumours====
* (Ishgard) "I hear she has the power of the Dark Knights. You don't just up and be selfish like that to a very good man for no reason at all. There's something wrong with the girl to be honest." - Credible Chamberlain.

====What PCs are saying====


===Known Haunts===
You might have run into or otherwise know Ninette from:
* Ul'dah
* Ishgard

Nivie Oirellain

2015-12-13T10:24:27Z

Noirelle: /* Likes */

{{Infobox-character
| name = Ninette Oirellain
| image = noirelle.png
| imagewidth =
| caption = Anything worth doing is worth doing it well.
| title = Bastard Heiress
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Ishgardian
| race = Hyur
| clan = Midlander
| stat_1 = Age
| stat_1_value = 23
| stat_2 = Height
| stat_2_value = 5f6i
| stat_3 = Weight
| stat_3_value = 135po
| stat_4 = Profession
| stat_4_value = Adventurer
| stat_5 = Patron Deity
| stat_5_value = Nald'thal (formerly Halone)
| stat_6 = Server
| stat_6_value = Balmung
}}
'Now here's an Ishgardian heiress run away from her home Ishgard once upon a time. Though she'd said that she has no intent on returning home, it seemed the cosmos would say otherwise when she found herself right back into Ishgard's now cold embrace. The self-indulgent, selfish, promiscuous adventurer who had been confident that she'd have nothing to do with it, caved to gil's siren call. Even as she swam in her nestegg, her accrued income, the need, the desire for more drove her back to where the pay was plenty and dangers far more deadly. That is to say my dearest 'niece' still refuses to meet with me and come half way. I can't fault her for wanting to spread her wings elsewhere.'

-Bruce Oirellain.

==Appearance==
The only thing striking about the cream skinned heiress would be the deep green of her eyes. An unnatural shade that signifies her lineage to the Oirellain house, every member has it, on one or both eyes. She stands an at average height. Black hair as opposed to the brown of most of her family, a constant remind that she is still a bastard. Her hand have become a little more calloused now, gripping her knives may have done that. Where once her body may have been smooth, lithe muscles began to form and develop, a product of having to shove two blades deep into thick hide, among other inappropriate things. While she had been slim before she had decided to put a little more weight, making her curves in more revealing attire a bit more noticeable.

==History==
//If there is an existing Oirellain genealogy, I am sorry for not doing my research. As such, just treat this a minor offshoot branch whatever. I'll keep this from mentioning whether little Ninette is a Midlander or a Wildwood. In case I really absolutely HAVE to be Elezen for it to work.

She was conceived the moment one of the Oirellain sons had an affair with their household hands. Ninette would have been the protagonist of her own rise to glory, starting out as a ratslayer in the Brume and being a champion adventuress in her own right. The cosmos had another plan for her entirely throwing that cliche trope out the window, blasting it with aetherial fire.

Ninette Oirellain, daughter to Charlotte Leclerc and an unknown father. The closest she had to a father-figure was her uncle Bruce Oirellain. She knew she had a mother but she rarely, if ever, talked to her much less see her throughout the day. From an early age she had already learned how to filter out most talk, everyone seemed bent on saying uncle Bruce was her real father. Among other things like she is an illegitimate child, she doesn't belong, she was a mistake. Perhaps that's what eventually drove her to be an overachiever, barely, to prove everyone wrong.

Of course, that isn't to say her childhood was always jarring and demeaning. The Oirellain house was generally warm to her and, more often than not, forcibly reminded her she belonged during her little fits. She was raised an heiress by her uncle, lavished with most of what she wished for. That same uncle who hadn't a beau nor children, unlike her other uncles and aunts that had cousins for her to play with. Despite her circumstances she was a relatively happy child.

Come her tenth winter, she was formally introduced to the lance and blade. Her uncle oversaw her training personally. He drilled into her the loyalty House Oirellain has always exhibited to the Haillenarte cause. That she should be doing the same when the time comes and they call for lances and blades. She was ever the obedient little soldier, though she had not tasted much in the way of actual combat save for sparring practices with her cousins and her uncle. She was afforded the same education as the rest of the family, keeping to Halone's tenets and the word of the Holy See. A model Ishgardian in almost every aspect being formed and sculpted.

By her nineteenth winter she was deemed ready along with her cousins and a few others to hopefully earn the attention of the dragoons. It would have been a prestigious time of her life. It should have been at any rate. She had tasted the disconnect between the glory tales of her elderly to the actual thing, not seconds into the encounter with a dragon that her eldest cousin, one she counted as a brother, turned into a red mist that painted the white Coerthan snow. It haunted her, even today it haunts her. Everything seemed quite pointless then. It would have been the early end of her tale had an actual dragoon not arrived on the scene. It all slipped by in a blur.

Ninette would not see combat for another winter. Instead she distracted herself by investigating the old rumours, the horse shit that said her uncle Bruce was her father. She spent her days studying her guardian, following him where he went, tailing him when he left the estate. It was all a game to her, a way to escape the harsh truth that awaited her beyond the Steps of Faith. His life seemed tame for the most part except for his evenings it looked like he was always tailing someone himself. The way she did with him. Others he'd visit her mother. Both instances always puzzled her and she endeavored to know more.

Her sleepless nights spent following her uncle and piecing together why he'd always visit mother. Her mornings spent shut in her room under the guise of illness or lethargy, the fatigue always lent credibility to either. It all changed one night at the anniversary of her cousin's death when she had followed her uncle once more and witnessed him argue with another noble. At least it looked like he was arguing with the noble. The other well dressed man began to run, her uncle a bolt of lightning following his prey, she was hot on their heels. Then she saw him pull a knife, crippling the other noble's leg. He wandered over to the fallen man and started speaking again before running the blade across the other man's throat. She gasped, admittedly a little too loud. Uncle Bruce barked in her general direction and that prompted her to run.

Except the world decided to spin and the sky turned into rough stone pathways of the Holy See.

She'd wake the next day to find her uncle and her mother in her chambers in the estate. At least she believed it was the following day but there was yet another disconnect. It seemed her mother was pregnant, very visibly so. From what she could remember no one's belly gets that big in the space of a day. In her dazed state she was fed and nursed, for she had almost been pronounced dead unable to wake for what was apparently two months. The only sign that there was hope was the fact she was still breathing in her deep dark sleep. It was then after she had eaten, after she had been apprised of the situation that her uncle decided to tell her everything, her mother the willing witness to all the revelations and the supporting voice to the claims.

First, it seemed she was not as quiet as she believed since her uncle was aware of how she had been following him. Second, he was her father. Third, she would have a sibling on the way. Fourth, all the claims that she was a bastard was true her newest sibling would be a bastard as well. Fifth, she was his daughter. Sixth, he was something called a 'dark knight' and was responsible for her two month sleep. The rest of the family didn't know about the last bit except for his paramour and now his daughter. He masqueraded as her uncle to spare her a different brand of scrutiny all together. He would continue for her little brother as well. Seventh, she exclaimed 'Nooooo' at the revelation of her uncle being her father. Eigth, her mother had to slap some sense into her.

After all was said and done, when her mother had left to return to her duties, her father asked her the most curious question. Whether or not she was actually fine. She brushed his concern off naturally, there was nothing wrong with her. That was when the voices in her head began to sprout. The one that whispered of things like freedom, one that reminded her of the futility of her training, one that slandered her father and mocked her mother. One she tried to tune out like the people in her childhood. One voice that couldn't be silenced. Ninette wanted to go to her father about this but something always held her back. She'd receive flashes of the night he had killed someone in the quiet hours of Ishgard and that froze her.

She'd spend the next winters honing her skill, broadening her understanding, going through the motions. It was that time again when she would try her hand at earning the attention of the dragoons again. Same, with her cousins and other aspirants. It was the first step to enact the plan she had hatched, one to flee Ishgard and leave it all behind. All the deception, the murder, the futility, all of it behind. The voice in her head making so many fine and strong points convincing her of its viewpoint, no one to counter argue it, no one to say otherwise. When it had asked for control as they faced the horde once more, she stepped aside, and let it execute the plan.

The guilt, the horrible feelings, all of it would flood later when she would see the great boughs of the Twelveswood make way to the scorching Thanalan heat. She turned her back on her family and she couldn't bear to turn back and meet the fruit of her sin. She walked on in a daze, following what felt right like she was moving forward in her life. She looked to down to find herself no longer garbed in the mythril haubergeon she left the Holy See in. Her lance no longer in her hands but rather a short blade on her waist. Ninette couldn't for the life of her recall how she had gotten there or why everything she did almost felt natural. She walked forward tentatively, taking step after heavy step and finally clearing the the canopy to see the Thanalan skies dotted with stars.

Her life would take another twist there being abducted not a few steps outside the Twelveswood.

A rather curious man held her captive, he had a tail, his ears were feline, he had no name. He was a miqo'te, how she had known what he was puzzled her but that was what her captor was. What followed was an indignation of a high magnitude and the budding start of one of Ninette's biggest vices. It was her first taste and it was the most addicting one yet. Hands would change and she would be in the possession of a group this time. The same delicious violations happened again, spread over some period. It continued until she arrived in Ul'dah, along with other girls like her.

Perhaps it was her unusual accent or her appearance but she went for quite the premium or so she'd overhear. The same voice began to speak to her again, giving her another plan. One that would take place over the course of the entire summer. She'd capitalize on her rarity, charge a little bit more than usual, perform her best, hope that a bonus under the table came her way. At the end of it all, she managed to buy her freedom thanks to a few risky gambles.

She had little to her name as a freed woman however, rectifying that by doing what she believe she did best. Sex. In exchange for gil, for favors, for information. It was all she could offer and she always believed she walked away with one more thing than the man or woman indulging her. It earned her her office, her blades, all her ensembles, funding for her food, et cetera. For the first part of her stay in Ul'dah at least. The boon that would help her get on her feet was her father's constant efforts to bring her back, he'd eventually leave her to her persistence and Ul'dah as she was adamant about staying and finally choosing where she wants to go.

It puzzled her why he'd surrender so easily. He didn't cut ties with her, he didn't abandon nor disown her as eventually a Gridanian merchant coming in would look for her, ask for a private session and deliver to her the nestegg she had kept in her chambers and a missive from her father before leaving her to her devices. That same merchant would visit her regularly and deliver the same missives and wait for her responses if any. She put a part of her nestegg to work but still relied on her body to earn until she'd find a different kind of benefit in levequests. The method to which she'd begin to explore Eorzea.

So there, not the story of a brume rat working her way to notoriety and then fame as a champion adventurer but something else entirely. Ah but her story continues to be written, some say she's come and gone to Ishgard a few times recently.

==Personality==

==Affiliations and Known Associates==

==Characteristics==
* '''Nicknames''': Nivie, Heiress, Rose, Envy
* '''Age''': 23
** '''Nameday''': 9th of the Seventh Umbral
* '''Gender''': Female
** '''Sexuality''': Bisexual with a preference for men
** '''Marital Status''': Single
* '''Alignment''': Chaotic neutral
* '''Height''': 5f6i
* '''Weight''': 135po
* '''Body''': Lithe
* '''Hair''': Black
* '''Eyes''': Green
* '''Skin''': Cream
* '''Clothing''': A lot of outfits

===Likes===
* Ishgard
* Ul'dah
*
*
*

===Dislikes===
*
*
*
*
*

===Areas of Expertise===
* '''Martial''':
* '''Crafting''':
* '''Other''':

===Strengths===
*
*
*
*
*

===Weaknesses===
*
*
*
*
*

==Other Notes==
===Religion===
Like any good Ishgardian she had been a follower of Halone. Not devout, mind you, paying as far as lip service and following the lead of her family like a practiced mummer doing her routine. Upon being thrust into Ul'dah she had since shifted to Nald'thal, even then she knows nothing beyond riches and commerce that he is supposedly a patron of. Religious is something she isn't, her faith is in the transactions and gil she makes.

===Quirks===
She is really really shameless.

She has a habit of running her mouth more than what is necessary, especially talking about herself.

She hallucinates people every now and then, also talks to them, albeit one sided conversation. //Especially those that afk a few seconds after I /em at them.

Speaking of one sided conversations, she sometimes speaks her surface thoughts aloud. All that idle musing.

Did I mention she likes hearing her voice? Yes sometimes she talks to herself, especially when the Quicksand is dry.

Yes she has an f-list. Just ask :>

===Equipment===
It varies really. Hardened leathers and hides, Steel armors, very skimpy cloth robes, hempen shirts and pants. Really whatever catches her fancy.

Her weapon at the moment is a pair of the mass-produced Gegenji Ohojos as well as a run of the mill Zweihander.

A personal commission and Yoshimitsu Replica upgrade is in the works courtesy of Master Chachanji Gegenji to replace the Ohojos.

===Rumours===
The following rumours can be heard about Ninette. (If your character has an opinion about her, feel free to add it here.)

====Common rumours====
* (Ishgard) "Heard about the heiress who ran anyway? Guess she came crawling back to leech off her family again." - Nosy Noble.
* (Ul'dah) "That Nivie? Ah yeah, nice body, easy on the eyes. I hear she beds anyone if the right price." - Idling Idler.
* (Ul'dah) "Shameless is what she is. Don't rightly know what to say about a girl like that, as long as she stays away from my man." - Worried Wife.
* (Ishgard) "A bastard and an outsider. House Oirellain is falling if they're going that far down to send more bodies to aid in the Haillenarte effort." - Discerning Duke.
* (Ul'dah) "A reliable blade she is. A bit unorthodox but reliable all the same, fought along side her once or twice. She could be less reckless however, considerably so. " - Maternal Mercenary

====Uncommon rumours====
* (Ul'dah) "Hear that Nivie girl's going on about alchemy. Haven't seen her mix her own cocktails though." -Musing Matron.
* (Ul'dah) "Some say she's...well let's just say she's a very filthy girl. Limits do NOT exist in her world." - Smirking sutler.

====Rare rumours====
* (Ishgard) "I hear she has the power of the Dark Knights. You don't just up and be selfish like that to a very good man for no reason at all. There's something wrong with the girl to be honest." - Credible Chamberlain.

====What PCs are saying====


===Known Haunts===
You might have run into or otherwise know Ninette from:
* Ul'dah
* Ishgard

Nivie Oirellain

2015-12-11T07:33:23Z

Noirelle: /* Quirks */

{{Infobox-character
| name = Ninette Oirellain
| image = noirelle.png
| imagewidth =
| caption = Anything worth doing is worth doing it well.
| title = Bastard Heiress
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Ishgardian
| race = Hyur
| clan = Midlander
| stat_1 = Age
| stat_1_value = 23
| stat_2 = Height
| stat_2_value = 5f6i
| stat_3 = Weight
| stat_3_value = 135po
| stat_4 = Profession
| stat_4_value = Adventurer
| stat_5 = Patron Deity
| stat_5_value = Nald'thal (formerly Halone)
| stat_6 = Server
| stat_6_value = Balmung
}}
'Now here's an Ishgardian heiress run away from her home Ishgard once upon a time. Though she'd said that she has no intent on returning home, it seemed the cosmos would say otherwise when she found herself right back into Ishgard's now cold embrace. The self-indulgent, selfish, promiscuous adventurer who had been confident that she'd have nothing to do with it, caved to gil's siren call. Even as she swam in her nestegg, her accrued income, the need, the desire for more drove her back to where the pay was plenty and dangers far more deadly. That is to say my dearest 'niece' still refuses to meet with me and come half way. I can't fault her for wanting to spread her wings elsewhere.'

-Bruce Oirellain.

==Appearance==
The only thing striking about the cream skinned heiress would be the deep green of her eyes. An unnatural shade that signifies her lineage to the Oirellain house, every member has it, on one or both eyes. She stands an at average height. Black hair as opposed to the brown of most of her family, a constant remind that she is still a bastard. Her hand have become a little more calloused now, gripping her knives may have done that. Where once her body may have been smooth, lithe muscles began to form and develop, a product of having to shove two blades deep into thick hide, among other inappropriate things. While she had been slim before she had decided to put a little more weight, making her curves in more revealing attire a bit more noticeable.

==History==
//If there is an existing Oirellain genealogy, I am sorry for not doing my research. As such, just treat this a minor offshoot branch whatever. I'll keep this from mentioning whether little Ninette is a Midlander or a Wildwood. In case I really absolutely HAVE to be Elezen for it to work.

She was conceived the moment one of the Oirellain sons had an affair with their household hands. Ninette would have been the protagonist of her own rise to glory, starting out as a ratslayer in the Brume and being a champion adventuress in her own right. The cosmos had another plan for her entirely throwing that cliche trope out the window, blasting it with aetherial fire.

Ninette Oirellain, daughter to Charlotte Leclerc and an unknown father. The closest she had to a father-figure was her uncle Bruce Oirellain. She knew she had a mother but she rarely, if ever, talked to her much less see her throughout the day. From an early age she had already learned how to filter out most talk, everyone seemed bent on saying uncle Bruce was her real father. Among other things like she is an illegitimate child, she doesn't belong, she was a mistake. Perhaps that's what eventually drove her to be an overachiever, barely, to prove everyone wrong.

Of course, that isn't to say her childhood was always jarring and demeaning. The Oirellain house was generally warm to her and, more often than not, forcibly reminded her she belonged during her little fits. She was raised an heiress by her uncle, lavished with most of what she wished for. That same uncle who hadn't a beau nor children, unlike her other uncles and aunts that had cousins for her to play with. Despite her circumstances she was a relatively happy child.

Come her tenth winter, she was formally introduced to the lance and blade. Her uncle oversaw her training personally. He drilled into her the loyalty House Oirellain has always exhibited to the Haillenarte cause. That she should be doing the same when the time comes and they call for lances and blades. She was ever the obedient little soldier, though she had not tasted much in the way of actual combat save for sparring practices with her cousins and her uncle. She was afforded the same education as the rest of the family, keeping to Halone's tenets and the word of the Holy See. A model Ishgardian in almost every aspect being formed and sculpted.

By her nineteenth winter she was deemed ready along with her cousins and a few others to hopefully earn the attention of the dragoons. It would have been a prestigious time of her life. It should have been at any rate. She had tasted the disconnect between the glory tales of her elderly to the actual thing, not seconds into the encounter with a dragon that her eldest cousin, one she counted as a brother, turned into a red mist that painted the white Coerthan snow. It haunted her, even today it haunts her. Everything seemed quite pointless then. It would have been the early end of her tale had an actual dragoon not arrived on the scene. It all slipped by in a blur.

Ninette would not see combat for another winter. Instead she distracted herself by investigating the old rumours, the horse shit that said her uncle Bruce was her father. She spent her days studying her guardian, following him where he went, tailing him when he left the estate. It was all a game to her, a way to escape the harsh truth that awaited her beyond the Steps of Faith. His life seemed tame for the most part except for his evenings it looked like he was always tailing someone himself. The way she did with him. Others he'd visit her mother. Both instances always puzzled her and she endeavored to know more.

Her sleepless nights spent following her uncle and piecing together why he'd always visit mother. Her mornings spent shut in her room under the guise of illness or lethargy, the fatigue always lent credibility to either. It all changed one night at the anniversary of her cousin's death when she had followed her uncle once more and witnessed him argue with another noble. At least it looked like he was arguing with the noble. The other well dressed man began to run, her uncle a bolt of lightning following his prey, she was hot on their heels. Then she saw him pull a knife, crippling the other noble's leg. He wandered over to the fallen man and started speaking again before running the blade across the other man's throat. She gasped, admittedly a little too loud. Uncle Bruce barked in her general direction and that prompted her to run.

Except the world decided to spin and the sky turned into rough stone pathways of the Holy See.

She'd wake the next day to find her uncle and her mother in her chambers in the estate. At least she believed it was the following day but there was yet another disconnect. It seemed her mother was pregnant, very visibly so. From what she could remember no one's belly gets that big in the space of a day. In her dazed state she was fed and nursed, for she had almost been pronounced dead unable to wake for what was apparently two months. The only sign that there was hope was the fact she was still breathing in her deep dark sleep. It was then after she had eaten, after she had been apprised of the situation that her uncle decided to tell her everything, her mother the willing witness to all the revelations and the supporting voice to the claims.

First, it seemed she was not as quiet as she believed since her uncle was aware of how she had been following him. Second, he was her father. Third, she would have a sibling on the way. Fourth, all the claims that she was a bastard was true her newest sibling would be a bastard as well. Fifth, she was his daughter. Sixth, he was something called a 'dark knight' and was responsible for her two month sleep. The rest of the family didn't know about the last bit except for his paramour and now his daughter. He masqueraded as her uncle to spare her a different brand of scrutiny all together. He would continue for her little brother as well. Seventh, she exclaimed 'Nooooo' at the revelation of her uncle being her father. Eigth, her mother had to slap some sense into her.

After all was said and done, when her mother had left to return to her duties, her father asked her the most curious question. Whether or not she was actually fine. She brushed his concern off naturally, there was nothing wrong with her. That was when the voices in her head began to sprout. The one that whispered of things like freedom, one that reminded her of the futility of her training, one that slandered her father and mocked her mother. One she tried to tune out like the people in her childhood. One voice that couldn't be silenced. Ninette wanted to go to her father about this but something always held her back. She'd receive flashes of the night he had killed someone in the quiet hours of Ishgard and that froze her.

She'd spend the next winters honing her skill, broadening her understanding, going through the motions. It was that time again when she would try her hand at earning the attention of the dragoons again. Same, with her cousins and other aspirants. It was the first step to enact the plan she had hatched, one to flee Ishgard and leave it all behind. All the deception, the murder, the futility, all of it behind. The voice in her head making so many fine and strong points convincing her of its viewpoint, no one to counter argue it, no one to say otherwise. When it had asked for control as they faced the horde once more, she stepped aside, and let it execute the plan.

The guilt, the horrible feelings, all of it would flood later when she would see the great boughs of the Twelveswood make way to the scorching Thanalan heat. She turned her back on her family and she couldn't bear to turn back and meet the fruit of her sin. She walked on in a daze, following what felt right like she was moving forward in her life. She looked to down to find herself no longer garbed in the mythril haubergeon she left the Holy See in. Her lance no longer in her hands but rather a short blade on her waist. Ninette couldn't for the life of her recall how she had gotten there or why everything she did almost felt natural. She walked forward tentatively, taking step after heavy step and finally clearing the the canopy to see the Thanalan skies dotted with stars.

Her life would take another twist there being abducted not a few steps outside the Twelveswood.

A rather curious man held her captive, he had a tail, his ears were feline, he had no name. He was a miqo'te, how she had known what he was puzzled her but that was what her captor was. What followed was an indignation of a high magnitude and the budding start of one of Ninette's biggest vices. It was her first taste and it was the most addicting one yet. Hands would change and she would be in the possession of a group this time. The same delicious violations happened again, spread over some period. It continued until she arrived in Ul'dah, along with other girls like her.

Perhaps it was her unusual accent or her appearance but she went for quite the premium or so she'd overhear. The same voice began to speak to her again, giving her another plan. One that would take place over the course of the entire summer. She'd capitalize on her rarity, charge a little bit more than usual, perform her best, hope that a bonus under the table came her way. At the end of it all, she managed to buy her freedom thanks to a few risky gambles.

She had little to her name as a freed woman however, rectifying that by doing what she believe she did best. Sex. In exchange for gil, for favors, for information. It was all she could offer and she always believed she walked away with one more thing than the man or woman indulging her. It earned her her office, her blades, all her ensembles, funding for her food, et cetera. For the first part of her stay in Ul'dah at least. The boon that would help her get on her feet was her father's constant efforts to bring her back, he'd eventually leave her to her persistence and Ul'dah as she was adamant about staying and finally choosing where she wants to go.

It puzzled her why he'd surrender so easily. He didn't cut ties with her, he didn't abandon nor disown her as eventually a Gridanian merchant coming in would look for her, ask for a private session and deliver to her the nestegg she had kept in her chambers and a missive from her father before leaving her to her devices. That same merchant would visit her regularly and deliver the same missives and wait for her responses if any. She put a part of her nestegg to work but still relied on her body to earn until she'd find a different kind of benefit in levequests. The method to which she'd begin to explore Eorzea.

So there, not the story of a brume rat working her way to notoriety and then fame as a champion adventurer but something else entirely. Ah but her story continues to be written, some say she's come and gone to Ishgard a few times recently.

==Personality==

==Affiliations and Known Associates==

==Characteristics==
* '''Nicknames''': Nivie, Heiress, Rose, Envy
* '''Age''': 23
** '''Nameday''': 9th of the Seventh Umbral
* '''Gender''': Female
** '''Sexuality''': Bisexual with a preference for men
** '''Marital Status''': Single
* '''Alignment''': Chaotic neutral
* '''Height''': 5f6i
* '''Weight''': 135po
* '''Body''': Lithe
* '''Hair''': Black
* '''Eyes''': Green
* '''Skin''': Cream
* '''Clothing''': A lot of outfits

===Likes===
*
*
*
*
*

===Dislikes===
*
*
*
*
*

===Areas of Expertise===
* '''Martial''':
* '''Crafting''':
* '''Other''':

===Strengths===
*
*
*
*
*

===Weaknesses===
*
*
*
*
*

==Other Notes==
===Religion===
Like any good Ishgardian she had been a follower of Halone. Not devout, mind you, paying as far as lip service and following the lead of her family like a practiced mummer doing her routine. Upon being thrust into Ul'dah she had since shifted to Nald'thal, even then she knows nothing beyond riches and commerce that he is supposedly a patron of. Religious is something she isn't, her faith is in the transactions and gil she makes.

===Quirks===
She is really really shameless.

She has a habit of running her mouth more than what is necessary, especially talking about herself.

She hallucinates people every now and then, also talks to them, albeit one sided conversation. //Especially those that afk a few seconds after I /em at them.

Speaking of one sided conversations, she sometimes speaks her surface thoughts aloud. All that idle musing.

Did I mention she likes hearing her voice? Yes sometimes she talks to herself, especially when the Quicksand is dry.

Yes she has an f-list. Just ask :>

===Equipment===
It varies really. Hardened leathers and hides, Steel armors, very skimpy cloth robes, hempen shirts and pants. Really whatever catches her fancy.

Her weapon at the moment is a pair of the mass-produced Gegenji Ohojos as well as a run of the mill Zweihander.

A personal commission and Yoshimitsu Replica upgrade is in the works courtesy of Master Chachanji Gegenji to replace the Ohojos.

===Rumours===
The following rumours can be heard about Ninette. (If your character has an opinion about her, feel free to add it here.)

====Common rumours====
* (Ishgard) "Heard about the heiress who ran anyway? Guess she came crawling back to leech off her family again." - Nosy Noble.
* (Ul'dah) "That Nivie? Ah yeah, nice body, easy on the eyes. I hear she beds anyone if the right price." - Idling Idler.
* (Ul'dah) "Shameless is what she is. Don't rightly know what to say about a girl like that, as long as she stays away from my man." - Worried Wife.
* (Ishgard) "A bastard and an outsider. House Oirellain is falling if they're going that far down to send more bodies to aid in the Haillenarte effort." - Discerning Duke.
* (Ul'dah) "A reliable blade she is. A bit unorthodox but reliable all the same, fought along side her once or twice. She could be less reckless however, considerably so. " - Maternal Mercenary

====Uncommon rumours====
* (Ul'dah) "Hear that Nivie girl's going on about alchemy. Haven't seen her mix her own cocktails though." -Musing Matron.
* (Ul'dah) "Some say she's...well let's just say she's a very filthy girl. Limits do NOT exist in her world." - Smirking sutler.

====Rare rumours====
* (Ishgard) "I hear she has the power of the Dark Knights. You don't just up and be selfish like that to a very good man for no reason at all. There's something wrong with the girl to be honest." - Credible Chamberlain.

====What PCs are saying====


===Known Haunts===
You might have run into or otherwise know Ninette from:
* Ul'dah
* Ishgard

Nivie Oirellain

2015-12-11T07:25:07Z

Noirelle: /* Quirks */

{{Infobox-character
| name = Ninette Oirellain
| image = noirelle.png
| imagewidth =
| caption = Anything worth doing is worth doing it well.
| title = Bastard Heiress
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Ishgardian
| race = Hyur
| clan = Midlander
| stat_1 = Age
| stat_1_value = 23
| stat_2 = Height
| stat_2_value = 5f6i
| stat_3 = Weight
| stat_3_value = 135po
| stat_4 = Profession
| stat_4_value = Adventurer
| stat_5 = Patron Deity
| stat_5_value = Nald'thal (formerly Halone)
| stat_6 = Server
| stat_6_value = Balmung
}}
'Now here's an Ishgardian heiress run away from her home Ishgard once upon a time. Though she'd said that she has no intent on returning home, it seemed the cosmos would say otherwise when she found herself right back into Ishgard's now cold embrace. The self-indulgent, selfish, promiscuous adventurer who had been confident that she'd have nothing to do with it, caved to gil's siren call. Even as she swam in her nestegg, her accrued income, the need, the desire for more drove her back to where the pay was plenty and dangers far more deadly. That is to say my dearest 'niece' still refuses to meet with me and come half way. I can't fault her for wanting to spread her wings elsewhere.'

-Bruce Oirellain.

==Appearance==
The only thing striking about the cream skinned heiress would be the deep green of her eyes. An unnatural shade that signifies her lineage to the Oirellain house, every member has it, on one or both eyes. She stands an at average height. Black hair as opposed to the brown of most of her family, a constant remind that she is still a bastard. Her hand have become a little more calloused now, gripping her knives may have done that. Where once her body may have been smooth, lithe muscles began to form and develop, a product of having to shove two blades deep into thick hide, among other inappropriate things. While she had been slim before she had decided to put a little more weight, making her curves in more revealing attire a bit more noticeable.

==History==
//If there is an existing Oirellain genealogy, I am sorry for not doing my research. As such, just treat this a minor offshoot branch whatever. I'll keep this from mentioning whether little Ninette is a Midlander or a Wildwood. In case I really absolutely HAVE to be Elezen for it to work.

She was conceived the moment one of the Oirellain sons had an affair with their household hands. Ninette would have been the protagonist of her own rise to glory, starting out as a ratslayer in the Brume and being a champion adventuress in her own right. The cosmos had another plan for her entirely throwing that cliche trope out the window, blasting it with aetherial fire.

Ninette Oirellain, daughter to Charlotte Leclerc and an unknown father. The closest she had to a father-figure was her uncle Bruce Oirellain. She knew she had a mother but she rarely, if ever, talked to her much less see her throughout the day. From an early age she had already learned how to filter out most talk, everyone seemed bent on saying uncle Bruce was her real father. Among other things like she is an illegitimate child, she doesn't belong, she was a mistake. Perhaps that's what eventually drove her to be an overachiever, barely, to prove everyone wrong.

Of course, that isn't to say her childhood was always jarring and demeaning. The Oirellain house was generally warm to her and, more often than not, forcibly reminded her she belonged during her little fits. She was raised an heiress by her uncle, lavished with most of what she wished for. That same uncle who hadn't a beau nor children, unlike her other uncles and aunts that had cousins for her to play with. Despite her circumstances she was a relatively happy child.

Come her tenth winter, she was formally introduced to the lance and blade. Her uncle oversaw her training personally. He drilled into her the loyalty House Oirellain has always exhibited to the Haillenarte cause. That she should be doing the same when the time comes and they call for lances and blades. She was ever the obedient little soldier, though she had not tasted much in the way of actual combat save for sparring practices with her cousins and her uncle. She was afforded the same education as the rest of the family, keeping to Halone's tenets and the word of the Holy See. A model Ishgardian in almost every aspect being formed and sculpted.

By her nineteenth winter she was deemed ready along with her cousins and a few others to hopefully earn the attention of the dragoons. It would have been a prestigious time of her life. It should have been at any rate. She had tasted the disconnect between the glory tales of her elderly to the actual thing, not seconds into the encounter with a dragon that her eldest cousin, one she counted as a brother, turned into a red mist that painted the white Coerthan snow. It haunted her, even today it haunts her. Everything seemed quite pointless then. It would have been the early end of her tale had an actual dragoon not arrived on the scene. It all slipped by in a blur.

Ninette would not see combat for another winter. Instead she distracted herself by investigating the old rumours, the horse shit that said her uncle Bruce was her father. She spent her days studying her guardian, following him where he went, tailing him when he left the estate. It was all a game to her, a way to escape the harsh truth that awaited her beyond the Steps of Faith. His life seemed tame for the most part except for his evenings it looked like he was always tailing someone himself. The way she did with him. Others he'd visit her mother. Both instances always puzzled her and she endeavored to know more.

Her sleepless nights spent following her uncle and piecing together why he'd always visit mother. Her mornings spent shut in her room under the guise of illness or lethargy, the fatigue always lent credibility to either. It all changed one night at the anniversary of her cousin's death when she had followed her uncle once more and witnessed him argue with another noble. At least it looked like he was arguing with the noble. The other well dressed man began to run, her uncle a bolt of lightning following his prey, she was hot on their heels. Then she saw him pull a knife, crippling the other noble's leg. He wandered over to the fallen man and started speaking again before running the blade across the other man's throat. She gasped, admittedly a little too loud. Uncle Bruce barked in her general direction and that prompted her to run.

Except the world decided to spin and the sky turned into rough stone pathways of the Holy See.

She'd wake the next day to find her uncle and her mother in her chambers in the estate. At least she believed it was the following day but there was yet another disconnect. It seemed her mother was pregnant, very visibly so. From what she could remember no one's belly gets that big in the space of a day. In her dazed state she was fed and nursed, for she had almost been pronounced dead unable to wake for what was apparently two months. The only sign that there was hope was the fact she was still breathing in her deep dark sleep. It was then after she had eaten, after she had been apprised of the situation that her uncle decided to tell her everything, her mother the willing witness to all the revelations and the supporting voice to the claims.

First, it seemed she was not as quiet as she believed since her uncle was aware of how she had been following him. Second, he was her father. Third, she would have a sibling on the way. Fourth, all the claims that she was a bastard was true her newest sibling would be a bastard as well. Fifth, she was his daughter. Sixth, he was something called a 'dark knight' and was responsible for her two month sleep. The rest of the family didn't know about the last bit except for his paramour and now his daughter. He masqueraded as her uncle to spare her a different brand of scrutiny all together. He would continue for her little brother as well. Seventh, she exclaimed 'Nooooo' at the revelation of her uncle being her father. Eigth, her mother had to slap some sense into her.

After all was said and done, when her mother had left to return to her duties, her father asked her the most curious question. Whether or not she was actually fine. She brushed his concern off naturally, there was nothing wrong with her. That was when the voices in her head began to sprout. The one that whispered of things like freedom, one that reminded her of the futility of her training, one that slandered her father and mocked her mother. One she tried to tune out like the people in her childhood. One voice that couldn't be silenced. Ninette wanted to go to her father about this but something always held her back. She'd receive flashes of the night he had killed someone in the quiet hours of Ishgard and that froze her.

She'd spend the next winters honing her skill, broadening her understanding, going through the motions. It was that time again when she would try her hand at earning the attention of the dragoons again. Same, with her cousins and other aspirants. It was the first step to enact the plan she had hatched, one to flee Ishgard and leave it all behind. All the deception, the murder, the futility, all of it behind. The voice in her head making so many fine and strong points convincing her of its viewpoint, no one to counter argue it, no one to say otherwise. When it had asked for control as they faced the horde once more, she stepped aside, and let it execute the plan.

The guilt, the horrible feelings, all of it would flood later when she would see the great boughs of the Twelveswood make way to the scorching Thanalan heat. She turned her back on her family and she couldn't bear to turn back and meet the fruit of her sin. She walked on in a daze, following what felt right like she was moving forward in her life. She looked to down to find herself no longer garbed in the mythril haubergeon she left the Holy See in. Her lance no longer in her hands but rather a short blade on her waist. Ninette couldn't for the life of her recall how she had gotten there or why everything she did almost felt natural. She walked forward tentatively, taking step after heavy step and finally clearing the the canopy to see the Thanalan skies dotted with stars.

Her life would take another twist there being abducted not a few steps outside the Twelveswood.

A rather curious man held her captive, he had a tail, his ears were feline, he had no name. He was a miqo'te, how she had known what he was puzzled her but that was what her captor was. What followed was an indignation of a high magnitude and the budding start of one of Ninette's biggest vices. It was her first taste and it was the most addicting one yet. Hands would change and she would be in the possession of a group this time. The same delicious violations happened again, spread over some period. It continued until she arrived in Ul'dah, along with other girls like her.

Perhaps it was her unusual accent or her appearance but she went for quite the premium or so she'd overhear. The same voice began to speak to her again, giving her another plan. One that would take place over the course of the entire summer. She'd capitalize on her rarity, charge a little bit more than usual, perform her best, hope that a bonus under the table came her way. At the end of it all, she managed to buy her freedom thanks to a few risky gambles.

She had little to her name as a freed woman however, rectifying that by doing what she believe she did best. Sex. In exchange for gil, for favors, for information. It was all she could offer and she always believed she walked away with one more thing than the man or woman indulging her. It earned her her office, her blades, all her ensembles, funding for her food, et cetera. For the first part of her stay in Ul'dah at least. The boon that would help her get on her feet was her father's constant efforts to bring her back, he'd eventually leave her to her persistence and Ul'dah as she was adamant about staying and finally choosing where she wants to go.

It puzzled her why he'd surrender so easily. He didn't cut ties with her, he didn't abandon nor disown her as eventually a Gridanian merchant coming in would look for her, ask for a private session and deliver to her the nestegg she had kept in her chambers and a missive from her father before leaving her to her devices. That same merchant would visit her regularly and deliver the same missives and wait for her responses if any. She put a part of her nestegg to work but still relied on her body to earn until she'd find a different kind of benefit in levequests. The method to which she'd begin to explore Eorzea.

So there, not the story of a brume rat working her way to notoriety and then fame as a champion adventurer but something else entirely. Ah but her story continues to be written, some say she's come and gone to Ishgard a few times recently.

==Personality==

==Affiliations and Known Associates==

==Characteristics==
* '''Nicknames''': Nivie, Heiress, Rose, Envy
* '''Age''': 23
** '''Nameday''': 9th of the Seventh Umbral
* '''Gender''': Female
** '''Sexuality''': Bisexual with a preference for men
** '''Marital Status''': Single
* '''Alignment''': Chaotic neutral
* '''Height''': 5f6i
* '''Weight''': 135po
* '''Body''': Lithe
* '''Hair''': Black
* '''Eyes''': Green
* '''Skin''': Cream
* '''Clothing''': A lot of outfits

===Likes===
*
*
*
*
*

===Dislikes===
*
*
*
*
*

===Areas of Expertise===
* '''Martial''':
* '''Crafting''':
* '''Other''':

===Strengths===
*
*
*
*
*

===Weaknesses===
*
*
*
*
*

==Other Notes==
===Religion===
Like any good Ishgardian she had been a follower of Halone. Not devout, mind you, paying as far as lip service and following the lead of her family like a practiced mummer doing her routine. Upon being thrust into Ul'dah she had since shifted to Nald'thal, even then she knows nothing beyond riches and commerce that he is supposedly a patron of. Religious is something she isn't, her faith is in the transactions and gil she makes.

===Quirks===
She is really really shameless.

She has a habit of running her mouth more than what is necessary, especially talking about herself.

She hallucinates people every now and then, also talks to them, albeit one sided conversation. (Especially those that afk a few seconds after I /em at them.)

Speaking of one sided conversations, she sometimes speaks her surface thoughts aloud. All that idle musing.

Did I mention she likes hearing her voice? Yes sometimes she talks to herself, especially when the Quicksand is dry.

Yes she has an f-list. Just ask :>

===Equipment===
It varies really. Hardened leathers and hides, Steel armors, very skimpy cloth robes, hempen shirts and pants. Really whatever catches her fancy.

Her weapon at the moment is a pair of the mass-produced Gegenji Ohojos as well as a run of the mill Zweihander.

A personal commission and Yoshimitsu Replica upgrade is in the works courtesy of Master Chachanji Gegenji to replace the Ohojos.

===Rumours===
The following rumours can be heard about Ninette. (If your character has an opinion about her, feel free to add it here.)

====Common rumours====
* (Ishgard) "Heard about the heiress who ran anyway? Guess she came crawling back to leech off her family again." - Nosy Noble.
* (Ul'dah) "That Nivie? Ah yeah, nice body, easy on the eyes. I hear she beds anyone if the right price." - Idling Idler.
* (Ul'dah) "Shameless is what she is. Don't rightly know what to say about a girl like that, as long as she stays away from my man." - Worried Wife.
* (Ishgard) "A bastard and an outsider. House Oirellain is falling if they're going that far down to send more bodies to aid in the Haillenarte effort." - Discerning Duke.
* (Ul'dah) "A reliable blade she is. A bit unorthodox but reliable all the same, fought along side her once or twice. She could be less reckless however, considerably so. " - Maternal Mercenary

====Uncommon rumours====
* (Ul'dah) "Hear that Nivie girl's going on about alchemy. Haven't seen her mix her own cocktails though." -Musing Matron.
* (Ul'dah) "Some say she's...well let's just say she's a very filthy girl. Limits do NOT exist in her world." - Smirking sutler.

====Rare rumours====
* (Ishgard) "I hear she has the power of the Dark Knights. You don't just up and be selfish like that to a very good man for no reason at all. There's something wrong with the girl to be honest." - Credible Chamberlain.

====What PCs are saying====


===Known Haunts===
You might have run into or otherwise know Ninette from:
* Ul'dah
* Ishgard

Nivie Oirellain

2015-12-11T07:23:04Z

Noirelle:

{{Infobox-character
| name = Ninette Oirellain
| image = noirelle.png
| imagewidth =
| caption = Anything worth doing is worth doing it well.
| title = Bastard Heiress
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Ishgardian
| race = Hyur
| clan = Midlander
| stat_1 = Age
| stat_1_value = 23
| stat_2 = Height
| stat_2_value = 5f6i
| stat_3 = Weight
| stat_3_value = 135po
| stat_4 = Profession
| stat_4_value = Adventurer
| stat_5 = Patron Deity
| stat_5_value = Nald'thal (formerly Halone)
| stat_6 = Server
| stat_6_value = Balmung
}}
'Now here's an Ishgardian heiress run away from her home Ishgard once upon a time. Though she'd said that she has no intent on returning home, it seemed the cosmos would say otherwise when she found herself right back into Ishgard's now cold embrace. The self-indulgent, selfish, promiscuous adventurer who had been confident that she'd have nothing to do with it, caved to gil's siren call. Even as she swam in her nestegg, her accrued income, the need, the desire for more drove her back to where the pay was plenty and dangers far more deadly. That is to say my dearest 'niece' still refuses to meet with me and come half way. I can't fault her for wanting to spread her wings elsewhere.'

-Bruce Oirellain.

==Appearance==
The only thing striking about the cream skinned heiress would be the deep green of her eyes. An unnatural shade that signifies her lineage to the Oirellain house, every member has it, on one or both eyes. She stands an at average height. Black hair as opposed to the brown of most of her family, a constant remind that she is still a bastard. Her hand have become a little more calloused now, gripping her knives may have done that. Where once her body may have been smooth, lithe muscles began to form and develop, a product of having to shove two blades deep into thick hide, among other inappropriate things. While she had been slim before she had decided to put a little more weight, making her curves in more revealing attire a bit more noticeable.

==History==
//If there is an existing Oirellain genealogy, I am sorry for not doing my research. As such, just treat this a minor offshoot branch whatever. I'll keep this from mentioning whether little Ninette is a Midlander or a Wildwood. In case I really absolutely HAVE to be Elezen for it to work.

She was conceived the moment one of the Oirellain sons had an affair with their household hands. Ninette would have been the protagonist of her own rise to glory, starting out as a ratslayer in the Brume and being a champion adventuress in her own right. The cosmos had another plan for her entirely throwing that cliche trope out the window, blasting it with aetherial fire.

Ninette Oirellain, daughter to Charlotte Leclerc and an unknown father. The closest she had to a father-figure was her uncle Bruce Oirellain. She knew she had a mother but she rarely, if ever, talked to her much less see her throughout the day. From an early age she had already learned how to filter out most talk, everyone seemed bent on saying uncle Bruce was her real father. Among other things like she is an illegitimate child, she doesn't belong, she was a mistake. Perhaps that's what eventually drove her to be an overachiever, barely, to prove everyone wrong.

Of course, that isn't to say her childhood was always jarring and demeaning. The Oirellain house was generally warm to her and, more often than not, forcibly reminded her she belonged during her little fits. She was raised an heiress by her uncle, lavished with most of what she wished for. That same uncle who hadn't a beau nor children, unlike her other uncles and aunts that had cousins for her to play with. Despite her circumstances she was a relatively happy child.

Come her tenth winter, she was formally introduced to the lance and blade. Her uncle oversaw her training personally. He drilled into her the loyalty House Oirellain has always exhibited to the Haillenarte cause. That she should be doing the same when the time comes and they call for lances and blades. She was ever the obedient little soldier, though she had not tasted much in the way of actual combat save for sparring practices with her cousins and her uncle. She was afforded the same education as the rest of the family, keeping to Halone's tenets and the word of the Holy See. A model Ishgardian in almost every aspect being formed and sculpted.

By her nineteenth winter she was deemed ready along with her cousins and a few others to hopefully earn the attention of the dragoons. It would have been a prestigious time of her life. It should have been at any rate. She had tasted the disconnect between the glory tales of her elderly to the actual thing, not seconds into the encounter with a dragon that her eldest cousin, one she counted as a brother, turned into a red mist that painted the white Coerthan snow. It haunted her, even today it haunts her. Everything seemed quite pointless then. It would have been the early end of her tale had an actual dragoon not arrived on the scene. It all slipped by in a blur.

Ninette would not see combat for another winter. Instead she distracted herself by investigating the old rumours, the horse shit that said her uncle Bruce was her father. She spent her days studying her guardian, following him where he went, tailing him when he left the estate. It was all a game to her, a way to escape the harsh truth that awaited her beyond the Steps of Faith. His life seemed tame for the most part except for his evenings it looked like he was always tailing someone himself. The way she did with him. Others he'd visit her mother. Both instances always puzzled her and she endeavored to know more.

Her sleepless nights spent following her uncle and piecing together why he'd always visit mother. Her mornings spent shut in her room under the guise of illness or lethargy, the fatigue always lent credibility to either. It all changed one night at the anniversary of her cousin's death when she had followed her uncle once more and witnessed him argue with another noble. At least it looked like he was arguing with the noble. The other well dressed man began to run, her uncle a bolt of lightning following his prey, she was hot on their heels. Then she saw him pull a knife, crippling the other noble's leg. He wandered over to the fallen man and started speaking again before running the blade across the other man's throat. She gasped, admittedly a little too loud. Uncle Bruce barked in her general direction and that prompted her to run.

Except the world decided to spin and the sky turned into rough stone pathways of the Holy See.

She'd wake the next day to find her uncle and her mother in her chambers in the estate. At least she believed it was the following day but there was yet another disconnect. It seemed her mother was pregnant, very visibly so. From what she could remember no one's belly gets that big in the space of a day. In her dazed state she was fed and nursed, for she had almost been pronounced dead unable to wake for what was apparently two months. The only sign that there was hope was the fact she was still breathing in her deep dark sleep. It was then after she had eaten, after she had been apprised of the situation that her uncle decided to tell her everything, her mother the willing witness to all the revelations and the supporting voice to the claims.

First, it seemed she was not as quiet as she believed since her uncle was aware of how she had been following him. Second, he was her father. Third, she would have a sibling on the way. Fourth, all the claims that she was a bastard was true her newest sibling would be a bastard as well. Fifth, she was his daughter. Sixth, he was something called a 'dark knight' and was responsible for her two month sleep. The rest of the family didn't know about the last bit except for his paramour and now his daughter. He masqueraded as her uncle to spare her a different brand of scrutiny all together. He would continue for her little brother as well. Seventh, she exclaimed 'Nooooo' at the revelation of her uncle being her father. Eigth, her mother had to slap some sense into her.

After all was said and done, when her mother had left to return to her duties, her father asked her the most curious question. Whether or not she was actually fine. She brushed his concern off naturally, there was nothing wrong with her. That was when the voices in her head began to sprout. The one that whispered of things like freedom, one that reminded her of the futility of her training, one that slandered her father and mocked her mother. One she tried to tune out like the people in her childhood. One voice that couldn't be silenced. Ninette wanted to go to her father about this but something always held her back. She'd receive flashes of the night he had killed someone in the quiet hours of Ishgard and that froze her.

She'd spend the next winters honing her skill, broadening her understanding, going through the motions. It was that time again when she would try her hand at earning the attention of the dragoons again. Same, with her cousins and other aspirants. It was the first step to enact the plan she had hatched, one to flee Ishgard and leave it all behind. All the deception, the murder, the futility, all of it behind. The voice in her head making so many fine and strong points convincing her of its viewpoint, no one to counter argue it, no one to say otherwise. When it had asked for control as they faced the horde once more, she stepped aside, and let it execute the plan.

The guilt, the horrible feelings, all of it would flood later when she would see the great boughs of the Twelveswood make way to the scorching Thanalan heat. She turned her back on her family and she couldn't bear to turn back and meet the fruit of her sin. She walked on in a daze, following what felt right like she was moving forward in her life. She looked to down to find herself no longer garbed in the mythril haubergeon she left the Holy See in. Her lance no longer in her hands but rather a short blade on her waist. Ninette couldn't for the life of her recall how she had gotten there or why everything she did almost felt natural. She walked forward tentatively, taking step after heavy step and finally clearing the the canopy to see the Thanalan skies dotted with stars.

Her life would take another twist there being abducted not a few steps outside the Twelveswood.

A rather curious man held her captive, he had a tail, his ears were feline, he had no name. He was a miqo'te, how she had known what he was puzzled her but that was what her captor was. What followed was an indignation of a high magnitude and the budding start of one of Ninette's biggest vices. It was her first taste and it was the most addicting one yet. Hands would change and she would be in the possession of a group this time. The same delicious violations happened again, spread over some period. It continued until she arrived in Ul'dah, along with other girls like her.

Perhaps it was her unusual accent or her appearance but she went for quite the premium or so she'd overhear. The same voice began to speak to her again, giving her another plan. One that would take place over the course of the entire summer. She'd capitalize on her rarity, charge a little bit more than usual, perform her best, hope that a bonus under the table came her way. At the end of it all, she managed to buy her freedom thanks to a few risky gambles.

She had little to her name as a freed woman however, rectifying that by doing what she believe she did best. Sex. In exchange for gil, for favors, for information. It was all she could offer and she always believed she walked away with one more thing than the man or woman indulging her. It earned her her office, her blades, all her ensembles, funding for her food, et cetera. For the first part of her stay in Ul'dah at least. The boon that would help her get on her feet was her father's constant efforts to bring her back, he'd eventually leave her to her persistence and Ul'dah as she was adamant about staying and finally choosing where she wants to go.

It puzzled her why he'd surrender so easily. He didn't cut ties with her, he didn't abandon nor disown her as eventually a Gridanian merchant coming in would look for her, ask for a private session and deliver to her the nestegg she had kept in her chambers and a missive from her father before leaving her to her devices. That same merchant would visit her regularly and deliver the same missives and wait for her responses if any. She put a part of her nestegg to work but still relied on her body to earn until she'd find a different kind of benefit in levequests. The method to which she'd begin to explore Eorzea.

So there, not the story of a brume rat working her way to notoriety and then fame as a champion adventurer but something else entirely. Ah but her story continues to be written, some say she's come and gone to Ishgard a few times recently.

==Personality==

==Affiliations and Known Associates==

==Characteristics==
* '''Nicknames''': Nivie, Heiress, Rose, Envy
* '''Age''': 23
** '''Nameday''': 9th of the Seventh Umbral
* '''Gender''': Female
** '''Sexuality''': Bisexual with a preference for men
** '''Marital Status''': Single
* '''Alignment''': Chaotic neutral
* '''Height''': 5f6i
* '''Weight''': 135po
* '''Body''': Lithe
* '''Hair''': Black
* '''Eyes''': Green
* '''Skin''': Cream
* '''Clothing''': A lot of outfits

===Likes===
*
*
*
*
*

===Dislikes===
*
*
*
*
*

===Areas of Expertise===
* '''Martial''':
* '''Crafting''':
* '''Other''':

===Strengths===
*
*
*
*
*

===Weaknesses===
*
*
*
*
*

==Other Notes==
===Religion===
Like any good Ishgardian she had been a follower of Halone. Not devout, mind you, paying as far as lip service and following the lead of her family like a practiced mummer doing her routine. Upon being thrust into Ul'dah she had since shifted to Nald'thal, even then she knows nothing beyond riches and commerce that he is supposedly a patron of. Religious is something she isn't, her faith is in the transactions and gil she makes.

===Quirks===
She is really really shameless.

She has a habit of running her mouth more than what is necessary, especially talking about herself.

She hallucinates people every now and then, also talks to them, albeit one sided conversation. (Especially those that afk a few seconds after I /em at them.)

Speaking of one sided conversations, she sometimes speaks her surface thoughts aloud. All that idle musing.

Did I mention she likes hearing her voice? Yes sometimes she talks to herself, especially when the Quicksand is dry.

===Equipment===
It varies really. Hardened leathers and hides, Steel armors, very skimpy cloth robes, hempen shirts and pants. Really whatever catches her fancy.

Her weapon at the moment is a pair of the mass-produced Gegenji Ohojos as well as a run of the mill Zweihander.

A personal commission and Yoshimitsu Replica upgrade is in the works courtesy of Master Chachanji Gegenji to replace the Ohojos.

===Rumours===
The following rumours can be heard about Ninette. (If your character has an opinion about her, feel free to add it here.)

====Common rumours====
* (Ishgard) "Heard about the heiress who ran anyway? Guess she came crawling back to leech off her family again." - Nosy Noble.
* (Ul'dah) "That Nivie? Ah yeah, nice body, easy on the eyes. I hear she beds anyone if the right price." - Idling Idler.
* (Ul'dah) "Shameless is what she is. Don't rightly know what to say about a girl like that, as long as she stays away from my man." - Worried Wife.
* (Ishgard) "A bastard and an outsider. House Oirellain is falling if they're going that far down to send more bodies to aid in the Haillenarte effort." - Discerning Duke.
* (Ul'dah) "A reliable blade she is. A bit unorthodox but reliable all the same, fought along side her once or twice. She could be less reckless however, considerably so. " - Maternal Mercenary

====Uncommon rumours====
* (Ul'dah) "Hear that Nivie girl's going on about alchemy. Haven't seen her mix her own cocktails though." -Musing Matron.
* (Ul'dah) "Some say she's...well let's just say she's a very filthy girl. Limits do NOT exist in her world." - Smirking sutler.

====Rare rumours====
* (Ishgard) "I hear she has the power of the Dark Knights. You don't just up and be selfish like that to a very good man for no reason at all. There's something wrong with the girl to be honest." - Credible Chamberlain.

====What PCs are saying====


===Known Haunts===
You might have run into or otherwise know Ninette from:
* Ul'dah
* Ishgard

Nivie Oirellain

2015-12-11T07:21:37Z

Noirelle: /* History */

{{Infobox-character
| name = Ninette Oirellain
| image = noirelle.png
| imagewidth =
| caption = Anything worth doing is worth doing it well.
| title = Bastard Heiress
| gender = Female
| citizenship = Ishgardian
| race = Hyur
| clan = Midlander
| stat_1 = Age
| stat_1_value = 23
| stat_2 = Height
| stat_2_value = 5f6i
| stat_3 = Weight
| stat_3_value = 135po
| stat_4 = Profession
| stat_4_value = Adventurer
| stat_5 = Patron Deity
| stat_5_value = Nald'thal (formerly Halone)
| stat_6 = Server
| stat_6_value = Balmung
}}
'Now here's an Ishgardian heiress run away from her home Ishgard once upon a time. Though she'd said that she has no intent on returning home, it seemed the cosmos would say otherwise when she found herself right back into Ishgard's now cold embrace. The self-indulgent, selfish, promiscuous adventurer who had been confident that she'd have nothing to do with it, caved to gil's siren call. Even as she swam in her nestegg, her accrued income, the need, the desire for more drove her back to where the pay was plenty and dangers far more deadly. That is to say my bastard daughter still refuses to meet with me and come half way. Ironic how I can hardly fault her behavior as I was once that too.'

-Bruce Oirellain.

==Appearance==
The only thing striking about the cream skinned heiress would be the deep green of her eyes. An unnatural shade that signifies her lineage to the Oirellain house, every member has it, on one or both eyes. She stands an at average height. Black hair as opposed to the brown of most of her family, a constant remind that she is still a bastard. Her hand have become a little more calloused now, gripping her knives may have done that. Where once her body may have been smooth, lithe muscles began to form and develop, a product of having to shove two blades deep into thick hide, among other inappropriate things. While she had been slim before she had decided to put a little more weight, making her curves in more revealing attire a bit more noticeable.

==History==
//If there is an existing Oirellain genealogy, I am sorry for not doing my research. As such, just treat this a minor offshoot branch whatever. I'll keep this from mentioning whether little Ninette is a Midlander or a Wildwood. In case I really absolutely HAVE to be Elezen for it to work.

She was conceived the moment one of the Oirellain sons had an affair with their household hands. Ninette would have been the protagonist of her own rise to glory, starting out as a ratslayer in the Brume and being a champion adventuress in her own right. The cosmos had another plan for her entirely throwing that cliche trope out the window, blasting it with aetherial fire.

Ninette Oirellain, daughter to Charlotte Leclerc and an unknown father. The closest she had to a father-figure was her uncle Bruce Oirellain. She knew she had a mother but she rarely, if ever, talked to her much less see her throughout the day. From an early age she had already learned how to filter out most talk, everyone seemed bent on saying uncle Bruce was her real father. Among other things like she is an illegitimate child, she doesn't belong, she was a mistake. Perhaps that's what eventually drove her to be an overachiever, barely, to prove everyone wrong.

Of course, that isn't to say her childhood was always jarring and demeaning. The Oirellain house was generally warm to her and, more often than not, forcibly reminded her she belonged during her little fits. She was raised an heiress by her uncle, lavished with most of what she wished for. That same uncle who hadn't a beau nor children, unlike her other uncles and aunts that had cousins for her to play with. Despite her circumstances she was a relatively happy child.

Come her tenth winter, she was formally introduced to the lance and blade. Her uncle oversaw her training personally. He drilled into her the loyalty House Oirellain has always exhibited to the Haillenarte cause. That she should be doing the same when the time comes and they call for lances and blades. She was ever the obedient little soldier, though she had not tasted much in the way of actual combat save for sparring practices with her cousins and her uncle. She was afforded the same education as the rest of the family, keeping to Halone's tenets and the word of the Holy See. A model Ishgardian in almost every aspect being formed and sculpted.

By her nineteenth winter she was deemed ready along with her cousins and a few others to hopefully earn the attention of the dragoons. It would have been a prestigious time of her life. It should have been at any rate. She had tasted the disconnect between the glory tales of her elderly to the actual thing, not seconds into the encounter with a dragon that her eldest cousin, one she counted as a brother, turned into a red mist that painted the white Coerthan snow. It haunted her, even today it haunts her. Everything seemed quite pointless then. It would have been the early end of her tale had an actual dragoon not arrived on the scene. It all slipped by in a blur.

Ninette would not see combat for another winter. Instead she distracted herself by investigating the old rumours, the horse shit that said her uncle Bruce was her father. She spent her days studying her guardian, following him where he went, tailing him when he left the estate. It was all a game to her, a way to escape the harsh truth that awaited her beyond the Steps of Faith. His life seemed tame for the most part except for his evenings it looked like he was always tailing someone himself. The way she did with him. Others he'd visit her mother. Both instances always puzzled her and she endeavored to know more.

Her sleepless nights spent following her uncle and piecing together why he'd always visit mother. Her mornings spent shut in her room under the guise of illness or lethargy, the fatigue always lent credibility to either. It all changed one night at the anniversary of her cousin's death when she had followed her uncle once more and witnessed him argue with another noble. At least it looked like he was arguing with the noble. The other well dressed man began to run, her uncle a bolt of lightning following his prey, she was hot on their heels. Then she saw him pull a knife, crippling the other noble's leg. He wandered over to the fallen man and started speaking again before running the blade across the other man's throat. She gasped, admittedly a little too loud. Uncle Bruce barked in her general direction and that prompted her to run.

Except the world decided to spin and the sky turned into rough stone pathways of the Holy See.

She'd wake the next day to find her uncle and her mother in her chambers in the estate. At least she believed it was the following day but there was yet another disconnect. It seemed her mother was pregnant, very visibly so. From what she could remember no one's belly gets that big in the space of a day. In her dazed state she was fed and nursed, for she had almost been pronounced dead unable to wake for what was apparently two months. The only sign that there was hope was the fact she was still breathing in her deep dark sleep. It was then after she had eaten, after she had been apprised of the situation that her uncle decided to tell her everything, her mother the willing witness to all the revelations and the supporting voice to the claims.

First, it seemed she was not as quiet as she believed since her uncle was aware of how she had been following him. Second, he was her father. Third, she would have a sibling on the way. Fourth, all the claims that she was a bastard was true her newest sibling would be a bastard as well. Fifth, she was his daughter. Sixth, he was something called a 'dark knight' and was responsible for her two month sleep. The rest of the family didn't know about the last bit except for his paramour and now his daughter. He masqueraded as her uncle to spare her a different brand of scrutiny all together. He would continue for her little brother as well. Seventh, she exclaimed 'Nooooo' at the revelation of her uncle being her father. Eigth, her mother had to slap some sense into her.

After all was said and done, when her mother had left to return to her duties, her father asked her the most curious question. Whether or not she was actually fine. She brushed his concern off naturally, there was nothing wrong with her. That was when the voices in her head began to sprout. The one that whispered of things like freedom, one that reminded her of the futility of her training, one that slandered her father and mocked her mother. One she tried to tune out like the people in her childhood. One voice that couldn't be silenced. Ninette wanted to go to her father about this but something always held her back. She'd receive flashes of the night he had killed someone in the quiet hours of Ishgard and that froze her.

She'd spend the next winters honing her skill, broadening her understanding, going through the motions. It was that time again when she would try her hand at earning the attention of the dragoons again. Same, with her cousins and other aspirants. It was the first step to enact the plan she had hatched, one to flee Ishgard and leave it all behind. All the deception, the murder, the futility, all of it behind. The voice in her head making so many fine and strong points convincing her of its viewpoint, no one to counter argue it, no one to say otherwise. When it had asked for control as they faced the horde once more, she stepped aside, and let it execute the plan.

The guilt, the horrible feelings, all of it would flood later when she would see the great boughs of the Twelveswood make way to the scorching Thanalan heat. She turned her back on her family and she couldn't bear to turn back and meet the fruit of her sin. She walked on in a daze, following what felt right like she was moving forward in her life. She looked to down to find herself no longer garbed in the mythril haubergeon she left the Holy See in. Her lance no longer in her hands but rather a short blade on her waist. Ninette couldn't for the life of her recall how she had gotten there or why everything she did almost felt natural. She walked forward tentatively, taking step after heavy step and finally clearing the the canopy to see the Thanalan skies dotted with stars.

Her life would take another twist there being abducted not a few steps outside the Twelveswood.

A rather curious man held her captive, he had a tail, his ears were feline, he had no name. He was a miqo'te, how she had known what he was puzzled her but that was what her captor was. What followed was an indignation of a high magnitude and the budding start of one of Ninette's biggest vices. It was her first taste and it was the most addicting one yet. Hands would change and she would be in the possession of a group this time. The same delicious violations happened again, spread over some period. It continued until she arrived in Ul'dah, along with other girls like her.

Perhaps it was her unusual accent or her appearance but she went for quite the premium or so she'd overhear. The same voice began to speak to her again, giving her another plan. One that would take place over the course of the entire summer. She'd capitalize on her rarity, charge a little bit more than usual, perform her best, hope that a bonus under the table came her way. At the end of it all, she managed to buy her freedom thanks to a few risky gambles.

She had little to her name as a freed woman however, rectifying that by doing what she believe she did best. Sex. In exchange for gil, for favors, for information. It was all she could offer and she always believed she walked away with one more thing than the man or woman indulging her. It earned her her office, her blades, all her ensembles, funding for her food, et cetera. For the first part of her stay in Ul'dah at least. The boon that would help her get on her feet was her father's constant efforts to bring her back, he'd eventually leave her to her persistence and Ul'dah as she was adamant about staying and finally choosing where she wants to go.

It puzzled her why he'd surrender so easily. He didn't cut ties with her, he didn't abandon nor disown her as eventually a Gridanian merchant coming in would look for her, ask for a private session and deliver to her the nestegg she had kept in her chambers and a missive from her father before leaving her to her devices. That same merchant would visit her regularly and deliver the same missives and wait for her responses if any. She put a part of her nestegg to work but still relied on her body to earn until she'd find a different kind of benefit in levequests. The method to which she'd begin to explore Eorzea.

So there, not the story of a brume rat working her way to notoriety and then fame as a champion adventurer but something else entirely. Ah but her story continues to be written, some say she's come and gone to Ishgard a few times recently.

==Personality==

==Affiliations and Known Associates==

==Characteristics==
* '''Nicknames''': Nivie, Heiress, Rose, Envy
* '''Age''': 23
** '''Nameday''': 9th of the Seventh Umbral
* '''Gender''': Female
** '''Sexuality''': Bisexual with a preference for men
** '''Marital Status''': Single
* '''Alignment''': Chaotic neutral
* '''Height''': 5f6i
* '''Weight''': 135po
* '''Body''': Lithe
* '''Hair''': Black
* '''Eyes''': Green
* '''Skin''': Cream
* '''Clothing''': A lot of outfits

===Likes===
*
*
*
*
*

===Dislikes===
*
*
*
*
*

===Areas of Expertise===
* '''Martial''':
* '''Crafting''':
* '''Other''':

===Strengths===
*
*
*
*
*

===Weaknesses===
*
*
*
*
*

==Other Notes==
===Religion===
Like any good Ishgardian she had been a follower of Halone. Not devout, mind you, paying as far as lip service and following the lead of her family like a practiced mummer doing her routine. Upon being thrust into Ul'dah she had since shifted to Nald'thal, even then she knows nothing beyond riches and commerce that he is supposedly a patron of. Religious is something she isn't, her faith is in the transactions and gil she makes.

===Quirks===
She is really really shameless.

She has a habit of running her mouth more than what is necessary, especially talking about herself.

She hallucinates people every now and then, also talks to them, albeit one sided conversation. (Especially those that afk a few seconds after I /em at them.)

Speaking of one sided conversations, she sometimes speaks her surface thoughts aloud. All that idle musing.

Did I mention she likes hearing her voice? Yes sometimes she talks to herself, especially when the Quicksand is dry.

===Equipment===
It varies really. Hardened leathers and hides, Steel armors, very skimpy cloth robes, hempen shirts and pants. Really whatever catches her fancy.

Her weapon at the moment is a pair of the mass-produced Gegenji Ohojos as well as a run of the mill Zweihander.

A personal commission and Yoshimitsu Replica upgrade is in the works courtesy of Master Chachanji Gegenji to replace the Ohojos.

===Rumours===
The following rumours can be heard about Ninette. (If your character has an opinion about her, feel free to add it here.)

====Common rumours====
* (Ishgard) "Heard about the heiress who ran anyway? Guess she came crawling back to leech off her family again." - Nosy Noble.
* (Ul'dah) "That Nivie? Ah yeah, nice body, easy on the eyes. I hear she beds anyone if the right price." - Idling Idler.
* (Ul'dah) "Shameless is what she is. Don't rightly know what to say about a girl like that, as long as she stays away from my man." - Worried Wife.
* (Ishgard) "A bastard and an outsider. House Oirellain is falling if they're going that far down to send more bodies to aid in the Haillenarte effort." - Discerning Duke.
* (Ul'dah) "A reliable blade she is. A bit unorthodox but reliable all the same, fought along side her once or twice. She could be less reckless however, considerably so. " - Maternal Mercenary

====Uncommon rumours====
* (Ul'dah) "Hear that Nivie girl's going on about alchemy. Haven't seen her mix her own cocktails though." -Musing Matron.
* (Ul'dah) "Some say she's...well let's just say she's a very filthy girl. Limits do NOT exist in her world." - Smirking sutler.

====Rare rumours====
* (Ishgard) "I hear she has the power of the Dark Knights. You don't just up and be selfish like that to a very good man for no reason at all. There's something wrong with the girl to be honest." - Credible Chamberlain.

====What PCs are saying====


===Known Haunts===
You might have run into or otherwise know Ninette from:
* Ul'dah
* Ishgard

Nivie Oirellain

2015-12-11T05:53:25Z

Noirelle: /* Quirks */

Nivie Oirellain

2015-12-11T05:52:44Z

Noirelle:

Orrin Halgren

2015-12-07T02:45:21Z

Noirelle: /* Rumours */

{{Infobox-character
| name = Orrin Halgren
| image = OrrinCliff.png
| imagewidth = 300
|
| title = Dragoon of the Holy See
(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: 30)
| 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 skin that reflects 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 a bang 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. Some of the more gossip-prone ladies of the Ishgardian court say he grows it long to hide his ears out of shame.

Orrin rarely strides into combat without 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.

<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 (170 lbs.)

: '''Complexion:''' pale pinkish

: '''Hair:''' Brown, Shoulder Length, Elezen style

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

: '''Particular Traits:''' Intimidating thousand-malm-stare

: '''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, name supposedly tying back to old Elezen 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 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.

<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, intensely so.
: <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> Halone, the Fury.
: <font style="color:#CACFA5;" size="3">■</font> <i>Goal:</i> To restore Ishgardian to its former glory worthy of Halone's favor through whichever means necessary

</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, beset by dragons at Snowcloak''

<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;">''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> 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

</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, for one day you shall die by 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 ensure it 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

<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.

</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> 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

<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

<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

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===<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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<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 a heretic, coincidence? I think not!" ''— Jailed heretic at Whitebrim''

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<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]]

"From what little I know of him... the man has a good eye for strategy, and a terrible eye for tactics." - [[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]]
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===<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;">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''
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''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 posesssed 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-

Story Line Concluded. Update to come.

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 amongst 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 every moment in he was 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. The first moment there was a lull in the assaults and he could fight he would return back to Ul'dah to finish what he had started before returning to Ishgard and preparing to take on for the first time the terror that few ever lived to witness twice in their lives

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[[Category:Ishgardian]]

Nivie Oirellain

2015-12-06T04:09:11Z

Noirelle:

Nivie Oirellain

2015-12-06T03:54:00Z

Noirelle: Created page with "{{Infobox-character | name = Ninette Oirellain | image = noirelle.png | imagewidth = | caption = Anything worth doing is worth doing it well. | title = Bastard Heiress | gend..."

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2015-12-06T03:50:57Z

Noirelle: