Estrelain Helaraint

Estrelain S. de Helaraint

of the Pathless Stride

❝ ...ought power surpass strength, falter not, for it will be time to shape History. ❞

- Ser Rennebaud

VITAL INFORMATION ■ BIRTH NAME... Estrelain Sylvaire de Helaraint ■ CURRENT ALIAS... Estrelain ■ PAST ALIASES... Estrél, grey vagrant ■ RACE & CLAN... Elezen, Wildwood ■ GENDER... Male ■ AGE & NAMEDAY... Thirty-three & 2nd Sun of the 1st Astral Moon, 1545 S.A.E. ■ HEIGHT & WEIGHT... 7 fulms, 1 ilm & 215 ponzes ■ STATUS... Alive, estranged

OTHER STATISTICS ■ NATIONALITY... Ishgardian ■ CITIZENSHIP... Gridanian, Ishgardian ■ FAMILY... de Helaraint & d'Oraguille ■ RESIDENCE... Outskirts of Hyrstmill ■ OCCUPATION... Serpent Sergeant, Lancer Trainee ■ ALLEGIANCES... the Order of the Twin Adder, the Wailing Barracks ■ PATRON DEITY... Halone, the Fury ■ ALIGNMENT... Chaotic Good

[edit]

• Details
• Traits & Peculiarities
• Capabilities
• History
• Relationships
• Rumors
• Music
• Gallery
• OOC Notes

❝ Accomplished, at fault, diverse. Such is the spine of our Hydaelyn. Encompassing peaks and clouds, yet in humility ne'er-told. Alas, She yields children of the same qualities, does she not ? ❞

GENERAL INFORMATION

Estrelain Sylvaire de Helaraint (aest-rae-lehn | seel-vere | hæ-lah-rent) is a Wildwood Elezen hailing from the Holy See of Ishgard, yet estranged and self-exiled to the Twelveswood for most of his adult life. Having spurred himself from Coerthas to the borders of the Black Shroud, he currently resides in the outskirts of the haven of Hyrstmill, near Gridania, where he conducts a life as Serpent Sergeant of the Order of the Twin Adders--often attempting to help the locals. Aside from the position within his grand company, he is an adept lancer, having trained with the Wailers of the Barracks for as long as his stay in the city-state, and thus making of it, his secondary source of income. When not serving in either of these two capacities, he spends much of his allowed time polishing his mind and body; with his recent reads, the man has begun developing an interest for blacksmithing.

APPEARANCE

Standing at seven fulms and one ilm tall, Estrelain places himself among the taller ones by Wildwood standards. His hair is porpoise grey, hinting at silvery tips, which he usually keeps long and flowing while off-duty, oft-sporting thin and short braids in the overall do; however he allows himself a simplistic bun, with locks of hair sometimes hanging from either side of his upper temples, when work is at hand. His eyes are a stormy shade of gray and during the warmer seasons, some freckles can be spotted about his cheeks. The frame of is lean, slender and towering, toned where it can be due to his occupation, while his smooth and dignified complexion is further echoed by the man's rigid diet and discipline. The Wildwood also sports a lightly-olive skin, delimited by the more rosy hues of his extremities, such as the lips, the ears and the eyes' contours. He appears somewhat mature, however not as much as he would hope to, looking to be in his late twenties to early thirties rather than his real amounting of years. The man takes extreme pride in caring for his body, leaving no ilm of it untrimmed, groomed or left to randomness.

Worn Items of Note

■ Dark-silver braid-beads.

■ Two ear-clasps, intricate in the design and silvery in the detail, both applied to his ears.

■ A Wooden bead-bracelet and wooden ring, apparently bearing the same craftsmanship.

PERSONALITY

As a man who in his youth was an exuberant and an enthusiastic aspiring-Temple Knight, many terms can be employed in the description of this son of Eorzea, a soul changed by history and contemplating his and everyone else's lives with no small amount of distanced outlook. Peculiarly interested in self-improvement, he shows signs of gratitude regardless of what one would expect of a man from the north, effectively defying the very standard of Ishgardian. Eager to learn, and teach where and to whom he can, the man is a humble vagrant on the surface, never trying to push where he deems he is to be undesired. Nonetheless, Estrelain is well-spoken, and while not as formal as the denizens of the Holy See, he shall never dismiss the chance for academic talk. The wildwood is very reserved about himself, believing that introducing details regarding his life in a conversation, to be of not such great value. He privileges wanderlust and solitude, to crowds and chatter, but the man shall not deny an approach if it is offered .

A lifetime littered with alienation and sorrow has bent his character through his time in Eorzea, from friendly and mildly upbeat to more worldly and more wary. He is often seen at nostalgia, coasting through life in neutral, as it were. In his change the man developed a more soothed and indifferent attitude, however never failing to give pupil to the causes that he deems worthy, as an inheritance of the past. Yet in no contrast with his combat proficiency, the Estrelain is in fact a learned man, one to welcome a word of intellect to his always fecund mind. Often bribing himself in less delicate tones, his very heart stays Ishgardian, while his tongue speaks words of resentment towards the Holy See, as a child who was denied his pastry. The one truly consistent sides of him, lie in the resolve and conviction, which he regards and promotes above all.

L I K E S ■ Patrolling. Despite the activity being bound to his very duty, the man enjoys the times he is sent as a scout or road patrol, because he finds comfort in believing solace as something that can be found in anything, even in one's profession. ■ Adversities. Thriving on mustering something above his take, or challenging stormy peaks are ideas that much-more-often-than-necessarily strike Estrelain's mind, rendering him the perfect prey for the call of peril. ■ Diligence. His self-imposed discipline---as a vivid lament to his origins and missed-destiny as a Temple Knight---molded the man into a self-preserving individual, bound to his orders and superiors, attempting to excel only if it would bring improvement. ■ Meditating. Estrelain is a man of thought as much as a man of arm, therefore he is constantly in longing to be left alone, pondering about whatever might be concerning him. ■ Poetry. While not a poet himself, he cherishes the many compositions of the ages past, very frequently allowing himself the pleasure of reading how words can be used to not just describe, but to show.

D I S L I K E S ■ Dishonesty. Susceptible to his sentiments of anger when he is shown ill-intentions, Estrelain shows no regards to those who shape their lives around schemes, tricks, treason and lies. ■ Indolence. Fighting for survival, operating for the greater good, no matter the means. He is not without sin, yet he is not forgiving of the apparently able ones, who choose a path of slacking. ■ Vacillation. A man who knows what he wants, for the most part. He is never to falter, should a matter arise and he is quickly bothered by those who mask themselves behind indecision, readily believing them cowardly. ■ Slovenliness. Estrelain has a certain eye for detail, and this is thrice-shown in the pristine keep of his figure. While he is accepting to an extent of other people choices of appearance, he however would prefer a person to be tidy. ■ Politics. While in the past he was much more interested, he has grown to hate the schemes of Court taking scenario almost anywhere in Eorzea.

H O B B I E S ■ Writing. Because of his love for poetry, he very frequently engages in creative writing, assembling thoughts and words in stories and tales of his pure imagination. A comfort that persisted through the years. ■ Chess. In his young age, he learned how to play the aristocratic game, while being not a noble himself. He always welcomes a good match, should the situation present itself. He is very skilled and particularly interested in learning new ways to best his opponents, strategically. ■ Crafting. While starting many years before, with carving necklaces out of wood, or providing the properly written papers, to play Knight & Knaves with his peers, Estrelain has always been attracted by the many-faceted trades of craft, delving quite too often in woodworking, smithing and cuisine, wherever he may be. ■ Collecting. He is attracted by whatever he discovers to be of use to him or those around him, a trait that is shown through his dedication in the selection of the finest materials available, when performing a service of refurbishing, repairing or simple polishing. He finds specific interest in ores, wood and plants and foods of all extractions.

DEFINING TRAITS

Estrelain has developed a keen sense of balance in whatever situation he might be finding himself. In youth, he was aware of this much more than currently, always ready to climb trees, rooftops and sometimes, to the scorn and reprisal of the local Knights of post, the higher towers and reaches of the walls. While he experimented, over the years, he found himself particularly agile in leaping, landing and spinning, and to the suggestions of many friends, young Estrelain should have aimed to be a Dragoon, rather than a Temple Knight; A perfect description of his ability to stay light as a feather can be observed while he effortlessly delivers his weight about his imposing figure in the daily routine. Quite obviously, his legs reflect the agility he possesses, granting him the softness of landing once his obligations are attended to. He shall bring himself up the tallest branches of the trees, or the higher-standing rocks of the location he is assigned to and acting as a scout when required, being his sight another powerful tool at disposal. Particularly, his accuracy, not only when he is in the field, but also in everything else that he contemplates as an activity. Eating, sleeping, cleaning, repairing or creating, no matter what he is bound to, he shall perform at the best of his abilities, and even while in suffering times, he shall never betray the precision developed to employ.

REASON Reason as defining trait and ability of Estrelain. In a world, where injustice, joy and mellowness entwine as intricately as the stems and thorns of beautiful roses, the ability to discern what is right and what is wrong is only an illusion transmitted by those of power, to the mind of this son of Eorzea. Therefore, he firmly believes that the keys to a more harmonious world manifest themselves through acceptance and the cold calculation of events in equal measure. Estrelain is a resolute man, capable of understanding much more than what he allows the others to believe, and to his own improvement, he strives to seek the right in the actions, rather than the speculation, valuing good effort much more than a too-oft shared claim. Thus, he is unbelieving of most occurrences unless directly shown or proven, practically. He does not disdain worship, being him a child of Halone, but he has his own way of understanding religion, as always placing reason before everything.

EIDETIC MEMORY Eidetic memory is the ability to recall visual information, such as pages from books and other visual sources, in great detail after only brief exposure to it. Within Estrelain, this trait developed in early childhood, and was nurtured by his father and grandparents to allow him to more readily retain information from whatever source he might learn from. The ability was nurtured very early on, and the man is not afraid to report his findings, no matter the activity he is attending to. This has proven to be particularly useful when, as a recruit of the Adders he was asked to identify a man of dubious claims, therefore solving the case and granting himself access to the kind attention of his superiors. To this day, he makes use of his unredeemed quality whenever necessary.

PHOTO-REFLEXIVE MEMORY Photo-reflexiveness is the pinnacle of the rare genetic trait found in those with an eidetic memory. The ability to become physically attuned to the movements of others simply by witnessing them, gaining their expertise and experience through mere moments or less depending on how comfortable one is with their trait. Once seen or heard, the user is permanently filled with the knowledge, and their body adapts to be able to perform it to the best of its ability. Training is required for the body to meet the challenges presented by the absorbed information. This ability also functions as highly accelerated learning, as the user can do whatever they wish with their new knowledge - even building upon what they have witnessed, not limited to simply mirroring what has been observed.

COMBAT & WEAPONRY

A man who prefers to split his focus between a variety of combat styles, and who has some experience to draw from, he spends a hefty portion of time honing his body and mind equally. Much of his strength comes from the raw muscle he has built, but he supplements himself heavily with food, exercise and even simple walks to further reinforce his body and increase its capabilities. When pushed, he can be quite the terrifying combatant.

OOC Note: When it comes to unavoidable combat RP, I'm willing to go with either Dice, or Freeform, depending on what's decided on by those of us fighting. He actually avoids combat as frequently as possible, preferring intimidation to outright conflict, or quick disabling as opposed to dealing heavy damage. Scarring and beating him extremely is plausible and acceptable, however death requires permission if it seems as though it's headed that way, and so long as it doesn't conflict with any OOC plans I may have made, he can be temporarily killed, however, do not expect it to be lasting, given the situation can change at any time. Please feel free to shoot me a /tell at any time during a RP if you have questions: communication is the most important thing in conflict driven RP.

MARTIAL TECHNIQUES Estrelain aspired to be a Temple Knight in his earlier years. He was particularly fond of exercising his strength through arms, and like many other children of the Holy See, he often sparred with his peers to enhance his own proficiency with them. No moment shall be left to fate, for Estrelain, in fact the man drives the will to improve himself particularly closely with the weapons of his choice. Swords, shields, bows, all were optimal candidates for the young man. When he was finally admitted to be examined by the Temple Knights, the wildwood wasn't selected as a wielder of the sword to his very delusion; consequently, he was asked to retry with another weapon. Little did he know, that his choice to refuse was only the beginning of what later in his life, could be seen as the most intense training of his, spanning from past, to the very present. Estrelain defected at age twenty-four from Coerthas, many years later bearing nothing else but weathered spear in his right fist. Because of the estrangement, and the arrival in Gridania, where a lance would find its home, young Estrelain, bereft of all pride joined the ranks of the Lancers' Guild. Attesting to the only voice that had spurred him to take up the lance, the wildwood not only was able to notice how easier it was for him to wheel, thrust and pierce with a polearm, but also how the equipment didn't force him to limit one's physical prowess in dodging, backflipping and de-facto gluing that individual to the weapon of wield. With lance in arm, Estrelain becomes a person anew. He forgets about the implications his actions may have upon his target, and performs his duties at the best of his abilities. Fortunately, he is able to control his drive to cause carnage, leaving him in the middle between a cautious man and a crazed one. This is thanks to the rigid, yet welcoming discipline of the Wailers, which he strives to emulate. The guild, allowed him to learn the techniques of an advanced lancer, therefore he is capable of phlebotomizing his enemy, maiming him, pinning him to the ground or simply throw a javelin against the target, should he find himself charging and on chocoback. To this day, this is his primary way of fighting. Considering the lance noble and solemn, Estrlain chooses it only to fight, and he'd rather crumble into pieces than use it in any other way.

FIGHTING STYLES Observant, and patient, Estrlain shows the defining traits of a hunter, stalking his prey while, if engaged in combat, shall usher claw and teeth for survival to be achieved. Not only he displays little feelings when fighting (with the exception of honor and loyalty to his comrades), but he has little regards for the methods employed to pursue his goals and objectives, often bestowing a light of restless tolerance upon him. Concentrated to no end, he also has his own lacks, shown mostly in the department of magic. The orthodox methods of fighting employed by the Ishgardians, left hand-in-hand with Estrelain, for a more placid, yet precise way of utilizing weaponry. Baffled at the very refusal, Estrlain couldn't bear the thought of his beliefs and dreams to be shattered by a simple sentence of routine within the Congregation of Knights of Ishgard, therefore he started becoming a breath incresingly thunderous in his combat. No longer was young Estrelain a man with respect for his enemies and traditions, but one left with a bitter aftertaste of his very origins. Choosing a spear over a sword, the man decided to put good use his affinity with climbing, and his almost boundless agility. Estrelain does not conceive fighting without a weapon, but if it happens, he shall make use of his dexterity and precision to overthrow his opponent or simply survive, turning no blind eye to anything that can be used at his advantage. Predator in his spine, his strength is less prominent than the speed at which he rotates his lance, spear or fork, and with a thrust or two, the man has an arsenal of possible ways to disable his foes and swiftly offer no mercy to them..

PRACTICAL SKILLS Certainly not a man of situation, he isn't acquainted with the majority of the customs of the other city-states, resulting in a stranger, in a strange land. He currently is trying to improve his Gridanian, and attempts to mask his original accent behind silence. Not incapable of relating to others, he is seen as a loner, at least where he dwells most, Hyrstmill. Since he learned that the majority of the people he meets seem to be attracted by socialization and the colloquial structures concealed with 'pleasantries', the man is particularly reluctant in engaging in open talk, or chitchat. He shall, nonetheless speak if addressed, at the best of his dignity. More often than necessary he attempts to level with the interlocutor, therefore asking them what their interests are. Unknown to him, he has been slowly gathering luggage of culture, information and contacts. He attempts to make ease of things, even those he isn't familiar with. Therefore, Estrelain can appear to be hopelessly enabling, while in truth he might be only courteously addressing the chat. This happens also when somebody takes over something very manual of physical that he is busy doing, he will gladly leave the spot for another.

HISTORY

Disclaimer: All of the details here are expected to be kept OOC unless an individual is given the information by Estrelain personally. Estrelain is a very reserved individual, and while he is likely to explain bits and pieces of his history, no one individual should expect to get all of the details out of him until they are very close. Some details he will share freely, such as his time spent in Hyrstmill or Coerthas, his parents and lineage, and snippets of his life since he traveled to the Shroud. His history is currently being adjusted to make certain it fits within a determined timeline of events. This is taking some lore delving, and allowing for spacing for certain gaps that can later be filled in through RP, or alternatively, as lore about other areas of the XIV world are filled in given both his age and the amount of time spent traveling across Hydaelyn. Consider this section to be a constant Work In Progress.

EARLIEST YEARS (1545 to 1563 S.A.E.) Early Life [1545]■ Estrelain S. de Helaraint, was born to Senestielle M. d'Oraguille and Ondolais A. de Helaraint, a former medicine woman and a knight turned into heir to the house he served. Being Estrelain the only son of a smaller house of the Holy See, his father, Ser Ondolais, wished he took the path of diplomacy or orthodoxy, steering his son when he could towards the Scholasticate of Saint Reymanaud of Ishgard. Though young Estrelain was an obedient child, he, being often witness to the feats of his father as a man of arms, started developing a strong bond with him, which ultimately led the adolescent man to seek a place among the Temple Knights, to echo the trade of his father. Truly, his infancy was not too different from that of the other children of the Holy See. He grew up in a modest, yet above-the-middle house, he attended his lessons in the old doctrines for bells every sun of his tender years, while playing Knights & Knaves with his friends. No corner of the city, even the darkest, was left unseen by Estrelain or Estrél, as his female friends used to call him; he and his group often participated in childish explorations of the lower areas of Ishgard, even the south-eastern ones, to the very disapproval of the adults and concerned families. He was sweetly fond of his mother during his time with her, and she was, in return twice as fond of him. Not only he lived a seemingly happy childhood, but also a fruitful one, having learned through his studies about the world much more than he would have cared to admit. A presumptuous one, yet diligent when the situation called the needs for it, Estrelain was happy to socialize with the majority of other Ishgardians, and because of his often cheeky, yet mannered way to propose himself, there was little to-no-room for the others to disdain him. [1559]■ Alas, with the classing of years, one after another, Estrelain was left fatherless due to a Dravanian assault, and with his mother in grief, he silently commenced working as an errand boy for houses of greater relevance, while more often than necessary he sparred with his more fortunate peers to obtain a shred of thrill out of his customary, yet diminished life. With the situation ongoing, Estrlain was soon to be facing the fall of his family from nobility, with the absence of a father so already thinly connected to the upper class, it was in fact easy to strip them of any relation to the more important houses. Additionally, unbeknownst to Estrelain in return, his mother Senestielle had contracted a malady of degenerative outcomes, but the strength of the Ishgardian woman allowed her to display no sign of weakness or fading to his son, whom, later saw her die sooner than he expected under 'mysterious circumstances'. Of course, as head of a house that had already taken a steep path, he was able to seal the family debts, yet not recover their name nor position within the Holy See. The deed was accomplished by selling the estate and work-force, rendering himself de-facto, a vagabond. Estrelain, however, like an unbending son of the Holy See, disgraced to dive through hardships, did not falter. He soon claimed a room within one of the inns of the lower quarters of Ishgard, established himself as 'custodian' of the library of another house, and earned his wage through the keeping of tomes, often tending to the various needs of the Lordlings that strolled about its dusty and chartaceous possessions-filled halls. The wildwood, had also attempted to secure himself a place in the Temple Knight, in one last act to honour his father, yet he was blatantly denied approval for his swordplay, an event that forced the adolescent man into following a less wild dream, settling for an already boring, yet young life. In the midst of all adversities, however, Estrelain found solace in the raising, riding and caring for the local chocobos of the Holy Stables, where he humbly served as a stable-boy in parallel with his occupation at Noillurel Manor. Evenly matched by others, and while not being a champion of the races, Estrelain still developed a very strong connection with the creatures, and shaped himself into a passionately decent rider. [1563]■ Yet, the life of a custodian, for an eighteen winters-lived Estrlain was not satisfying and fulfilling enough, and he often dreaded of not living up to the standards he had promised to himself---and secretly to his father. Because of this, the wildwood channeled his life and actions into the emulation of his peers, seeking to blend with the others. His mind was set: to achieve such objective he had to be looking for a mentor of sword, and with the baggage of knowledge he had built up, a mentor of mind. And with what little thread he had left between the doors of the mansion he served and his heart, the young wildwood escaped in the middle of the night, sneaking inside the provisioning caravan that used to travel to House de Noillurel every early sun. Crouching behind boxes of reagan peppers and sacks of oats, he was able to elude the inspections of the gatekeeps and usher himself into the verdant highlands he had planned to free himself by.

FIRST STEPS (1563 to 1571 S.A.E.) Learning [1563-64]■ Careful to leave no detail to fate, and conscious of being the master of his own destiny, young Estrelain set foot in Coerthas, right about outside the Gates of Judgement. Equipped with nothing more but a shortsword and a chainmail, he left the home of those who would see him locked in a stale-smelling chamber, with the company of flies and books of disputably suitable precepts. With suns of travels and moons of vigil, the wildwood reached the westernmost borders of the Griffin Crossing, where he was attacked first-hand by a group of bandits hailing from the southern regions of Aldenard. Furnished with a heart abundant in resolve, Estrlain fought them off, scaring them away before he could injure the would-be-robbers to death. As his attention was recalled by a pair of gauntlets clapping against each-other in commendation for Estrelain, he located the source of the expression of compliment. A man, a wildwood, possibly as tall as he was greeted the adventurous Ishgardian, presenting himself Ser Mauricel Rennebaud. The old, yet dignified elezen explained Estrelain how pleased he was to see that a man so young would so fervently fight for his own life, and without a hint of fear; and without a question and an answer, Ser Rennebaud proposed Estrelain training and honing, with an education in the knightly disciplines. Certainly, the wildwood could not contain his joy, but decided to be showing himself even more eager to learn, by manifesting little emotion and solemn contemplation, furthering Ser Rennebaud's belief in Estrelain's worth. Bells under the icy waters of the northern lakes, swordplaying among karakuls, ewes and peistes alike, there was no activity the elderly elezen would not drive Estrelain towards, from the simple preparing of a mistletoe tea to fending off a dash of steel. [1565]■ And thus, with great dedication, Ser Rennebaud not only offered a home in his Observatorium post, but also a grindstone and a mallet to sharpen Estrelain in a man fit for the Temple Knights. Nurturing in the teachings, the wildwood learned to use a variety of arms at intermediate skills, with the exception of the spear which he seemed to be much more proficient with compared to the other weapons. However, Estrelain was not satisfied with this, and attempted to seek further enhancement of his ability with a blade, in a desperate attempt to be exactly of the same caliber of his late father. Ser Rennebaud, quite oppositely, reminded the young man that pride and denial were enemies much more cunning than those fought in a war, hence to pay less mind to conviction, and more to embracing one's true self. Given such weighting words, Estrelain pondered upon them for moons, while continuing his rigorous training, yet he remained of the will to improve with the sword and cast any other talent aside. [1567]■ The natural and genuine behavior of a man is often shown in the moments of need and open peril. Ser Rennebaud was attending a ceremony within the walls of Ishgard, leaving Estrelain alone at his post, tasking him with reading a novel about Saint Reinette. With the nearing of ferocious screeches and cries, Estrelain made grasp for the first and only weapon at his disposal: a lance. Carrying himself outside, he was shocked to be shown the horror of several men rent and maimed by a Dravanian wyvern. Yet in utter quiet, Estrelain climbed and reached for one of the roofs about the Observatorium, pinning his sight upon the scaled fury making char of its targets. A breath, an inhalation, and a moment of silence. Estrelain disengaged his body weight from the edge of the roof, making tight hold of his weapon between two clenched fists and thrust the left wing of the beast side to side. Unbelieving of what he had achieved, he was soon attacked by the still-living wyvern, dodging several sudden snaps of the creature's maw and rolling to the side, weaponless. And with what seemed to be preternatural stamina, the beast attacked him once more, lifting itself from the ground with a lance still through its wing. Estrelain was caught in panic, and grasped for an escape or at least something to intimidate the wyvern with. Nothing on the sight, Estrelain had finally realized there would have been no chance of survival, thus, embracing a direct, armor and weaponless clash against his opponent. He dashed forward, rolling underneath the beast, recollecting his spear from its wing and delivered yet one more wheeled thrust upon the enemy's flank, cutting the side of its stomach. The wyvern screeched in pain, leaving the Observatorium for the north in a dolorous flight. Estrelain had defeated a wyvern, and he did not realize he had done it with the weapon he scorned most.

CARTENEAU (1571 S.A.E. to 1572 S.U.E.) Beyond the Calamity [1571-72 S.A.E.]■ With Gaius van Baelsar appointed Legatus of the XIVth Legion of the Garlean Empire, and his ultimatum to the City-States of Eorzea, the gates of Ishgard were closed in cold and distanced reasons, while the Eorzean Alliance fought forth onto the fieds of Carteneau in a last stand against the imperial forces. When the believed Lesser Moon Dalamud was lured to the flats of battle, Estrelain could see the eldritch crimson the satellite brought with itself, sun by sun, nearing Aldenard even more. Ser Rennebaud, foreseeing the changes Eorzea would have experienced with the years to come, cautioned Estrelain to escape both Coerthas and the terrible fate that would have been cast upon the lands. Hence, Estrelain, in utter refusal to abandon his mentor to the solitude of the Observatorium and an uncertain destiny, insisted that the honourable knight followed along, casting an eye of damnation upon the Holy See. Yet, Ser Rennebaud remained solid to his post, stalwart and firm in conviction, but bitterly unlikely what he had shown himself to be up to the moment. Estrelain, however, took a step back on his stance, and boundlessly loyal to the old knight, stated he would have then faced the same fate of his trainer...and friend, like a true man of Ishgard. In a rash attempt to secure his pupil's safety, Ser Rennebaud not only refused to let Estrelain stay, but additionally stripped him of apprenticeship, banishing him away from his dome, into the highlands. The sad, and painful choice of the old man, however, was the only way he could oblige Estrelain to save himself, and while in fact the young Ishgardian had understood the motives, could not avoid an increasingly surging sense of abandonment both by a friend and by his own people. [1572 S.U.E.]■ Estrelain Helaraint, as he had decided to word his name from that bell into the future, dejectedly left the walls of Ser Rennebaud's post in the First Dicasterial Observatorium of Aetherial and Astrological Phenomena, a dry and warm sun of a summer of 1572 S.U.E., flocking into the warmer climates of the Black Shroud. Armed with nothing but a suit of scale mail and a lance in his hand, a confused, defeated and seething wildwood dragged himself to the hamlet of Fallgourd Float, where he saw the destructive power of the Elder Primal Bahamut wreak havoc and death upon the realm. Yet in the bell of doom, as the crystalline explosions of Aether forever changed the lands for a more twisted, still beautiful sight, a flash of light followed and a terrified Estrelain, as many more of the people that had turned to the streets to cry at the sky in desperation, were invested by it. And the furious dreadwyrm had disappeared, so had the cries of Carteneau, leaving Estrelain unharmed and able to tend to the needs and wounds of those injured at the borders of the Black Shroud. [1572]■ Almost opposedly to his very beliefs, which would have seen him loathing for moons, Estrelain helped the north Shroud the way he could, by fetching water, cleaning flesh wounds, and proposing himself more as a medic than as a warrior, since there was less than no need for arms. Nothing had risen, no beasts had dared to approach the borders of Fallgourd Float for suns, thus making him capable of learning the basic of first aid. As a man with not a considerable amount of perks besides those he had gained in his life, Estrelain restlessly marked his effort to aid the inn he stayed in, rebuilding fences with the workers, tilling soils with the farmers. He had pride, but he had also a heart. And in his mind, he would put it to use, not to seethe, not to disdain. Only to help. The Calamity had softened the scales of his armour as much as his ways.

ARRIVAL AT THE MILL (1572 to 1577 S.U.E.) Time as an exile and the making of a man [1572]■ Bells, suns and moons had passed since the Calamity, and Estrelain had thrown his last share of coin into the moonly staying at the Bobbing Cork of Fallgourd Float. He had established a small errands-related source of income for himself, given that among all other regions, the Twelveswood had received most damage due to the dreadwyrm's attack and employment possibilities had collapsed together with many portions of the Black Shroud. A mellowed and changed Estrelain, witness to the destruction of the Elder Primal, struggled to regain consciousness of his life past, further condemning his homeland for its closed-mindedness. However, even if stirring inside, he would always remain tranquil and placid to his peers, understanding of the fact that while he was damaged, so were the people of his newfound land. The wildwood, in fact, not only started to attempt a blend with the inhabitants of the Shroud, but also help them as much as he could, in recognition and appreciation for being allowed to roam its paths and seek asylum in the shade of its beauty. Soon, Estrelain marched north-easternwards to the little settlement of Hyrstmill where he had heard retired warriors, injured ones and estranged souls sought reprieve from their punishing lives. [1573]■ Time allowing, Estrelain found refuge in the common dormitory of the hamlet of Hyrstmill, while noticing how close he was to Gridania, he learned he would find proper employment if he had spurred himself into its very heart. And thus Estrelain walked the red, yellow and orange paths of the northern Shroud, until, greeted by the Yellow Serpent Gate, he was stopped for examination and questioning. The thin and tired Estrelain could not do anything but to explain where he hailed from, already abandoned to the idea they would have denied him entrance. To his very surprise, however, the gatekeeps allowed him a pass and the man, after a thankful and polite bow, directed himself where he would have found coin and training at the same. The Wailing Barracks of Gridania were not only a place for strange and all-types-assorted individuals, but also home to the protectors of the Gridanian borders and valiant warriors of the polearm: the lancers. The Wood Wailers, or so were named those who achieved the highest training in lancing, were placed everywhere within the Shroud, posts, fortresses and gates. An objective in common within, the protection of the Shroud and its very people. As Estrelain was able to explain his stance to the masters, he finally was admitted as a recruit. Years had passed, and with the righteously imposed training, both in the Barracks and outside, the young man had finally escaped his adolescence and turned into a man proper. With a peaceful demeanor and solemn presence, Estrelain was a new creature, reshaped into the bark of the strongest trees. Diligence, duty and honor, a stranger, in a strange land, in fact. Yet there was no night without a return to Hyrstmill, as every humble warrior would. [1574]■ Quite in the midst of his training with the Wailers, Estrelain was approached by a man in yellow, introducing himself as a Serpent Lieutenant of the Order of the Twin Adder. Of course, the wildwood had met and assisted the Serpents in the past, whether through the direct orders of the trainers or by simple good-will, he had in fact already come in contact with the Grand Company. Yet, that time, he was there to be asked to join the ranks, as a soldier. Estrelain, even if doubtful regarding the offer, followed the man to the Adders' Nest, and by seeing the great zeal the men and women that worked in its hall put in their duty, the wildwood felt a rush of admiration for those brave souls surging through his veins, and he, before he could be even asked officially, requested admittance at the counter. Estrelain Helaraint had signed to become a Serpent Private.

THE WEIGHTING OF FATE (1577 S.U.E. to ???) Disclaimer: All of the details here are expected to be kept OOC unless an individual is given the information by Estrelain personally. His history is currently being adjusted to make certain it fits within a determined timeline of events. This is taking some lore delving, and allowing for spacing for certain gaps that can later be filled in through RP, or alternatively, as lore about other areas of the XIV world are filled in given both his age and the amount of time spent traveling across Hydaelyn. Consider this section to be a constant Work In Progress. . OOC Note: Here the current fate of Estrelain shall unfold, from this point forward, the section will include the adventures, encounters and storires he ICly lives alone or with other players. Every square corresponds to a different story or arc, and they are meant to be read from the top to the bottom to establish a chronological order. So simply read it as you would read any book. Additionally, the stories reported here are dated starting with the beginning of 'A Realm Reborn' 1577 S.U.E. The faint smell of roses and blood [1577]■ Estrél had continued his life as a Serpent, as an advanced lancing trainee and ultimately, but primarily to his spirit, as a proud warrior of Hyrstmill, his only place he could truly call 'home'. Since Carteneau, some years had passed and the man had finally placed himself in a higher position among the Grand Company of Gridania. With his efforts, especially those conducted within the northern sides of the Shroud, he was appointed the honorific of Serpent Sergeant; such title, allowed Estrelain to keep himself busy between both patrolling the Twelveswood, gathering further information and knowledge regarding the lands, and paperwork cupped by office-related duties. It was often custom of him to be tending to the immigration processes of other outlanders, ironically for him being a stranger himself. The Order of the Twin Adder had shown itself as homely as the Barracks and as Hyrstmill, but the hardened, yet soothed man held respect utmost not to the places, yet to the people. Clashing in spirits with his very will of improvement, the life of a Serpent Sergeant Lancer was not unsatisfying for him, for he had changed to the softer and less ambitious side of himself. Yet, as any man capable of recognizing uncertainties and not ashamed to admit doubt, he yet seemed to be missing a piece in his life, thusly remaining incomplete. Had his mind not thrown him into wild dreams of rejoining his old homeland Estrelain would stay a simple man, but recently, with his increased interest towards blacksmithing and carpentry, he began questioning his own choices again, and ready to haul himself into battle once more to reclaim his lost ambition, the wildwood started seeking companions to travel north, where snows had fallen and where his skin had not felt the winds of for years. [1577]■ While returning from one of his patrols in the woods, Estrelain dropped armor and weapon to the coffer at the feet of his bed, as he entered the common dormitory of Hyrstmill. Changing into more comfortable clothes, he pushed himself outside, towards the waterwheel, only accompanied by a faint Menphina in the sky and the red hues of the foliage underneath his steps. With the small torrent ramming west-to-east the peaceful hamlet, Estré sighed in relief, inhaling some of the air carried by the warm winds that had traveled the Shroud for the sun entire. The lancer, was plucked in attention by a particular scent, pervading the very gusts of breeze that danced upon his loose clothes. Roses and blossoms of roses, a smell terrifyingly familiar to the man, cast interest and wonder upon the origins, being roses flowers or his own lands and less of the Twelveswood. Yet, incapable of explaining the implications, his soul stirred, roared, and awakened to the perfumed breaths of that wind, reminding Estrelain of being nonetheless a stranger. Yet, Clelia, the midlander porter that had oft-visited the Mill, arrived with the nightly delivery of spirits for the local tavern, and Estrelain was soon dragged away from his less happy thoughts to help the young woman unload her cart. As he followed the woman to the gates, to bid her farewell, Estrelain was thanked for his help, however, before they could even part ways, Mistalle, the loving chocobo of the woman had cried in pain. Unbeknownst to the both, the creature had fallen ill many moons before and in a matter of instants she exhaled her last breath. A heartbroken Clelia could not even weep, for the chocobo had ejected an unhatched egg with her last threads of strength. Estrelain, knowing what to do with it, explained the egg needed care and tending, therefore convinced the woman to allow him to bring it -in a rush through the night-, to the Bentbranch Meadows stables, where, with the aid of the chocobokeeps they were able to give the egg a new mother, Douilie, a turquoise-feathered chocobo. Finally Clelia was able to bury Mistalle ontop of the cliff overlooking Everschade. The woman later asked Estrelain to take care of the hatchling that would have soon come out of the egg, and he accepted, promising the woman he would and with the utmost care. The Meadows, in fact, had been visited by the wildwood almost sunly, after his duties, to assert the conditions of the eggs, until, finally a little female chripling saw the light of the life. Being asked what name he would give the little chocobo, Estrlain responded he meant to call her 'Hauteclaire'. Being such the name of the fabled sword of legend his father always spoke of, he finally came to the realization that he needed not to emulate his father to be worthy, but only to try and be the good man he was. Thus, if he could not do it through wielding a sword, he brought himself comfort in knowing that same sword would then accompany him forward in the form of a steed, and his father, with it. [1578]■ During his sixth year since the Calamity, Estrelain brought himself to the jolly outlet of Mister Rolfe Hawthorne and his wife in the eastern reaches of the Twelveswood, in hope to meet and seek guidance within an old traveler, "Longinus the Coaly" that was said to be dwelling its perimeter, other than being known as an habitué of the Sweetbloom Pier eatery. Accompanied by his now grown and loyal companion, Hauteclaire, whom was trained in combat since the second half of her first year, Estrelain ventured into the deeper corners of that side of the Shroud, where myths and reality were said to be walking hand in hand. Nonetheless, the wildwood was unable to find the man he so spiritedly wished to ask advice from, as the people of the Hawthorne Hut had told him the vagrant had left suns before for Othard. Quite in the disappointment, Estrelain felt another rush through his leg, one of surging power, as if his blood had been warmed up just suddenly to return to its usual temperature. The injuries he had received previously, while freely fending off a flock of Ixal, were not the reason of such situation, given they had healed completely, yet he could feel the reasonable comfort of the wind refreshing his neck, bringing with itself, once again the unparalleled noble scent of roses. Estrelain returned to Hyrstmill that same sun, yet with more doubts in his mind than those he had left the dormitory with, in the early bells. [1578]■ Estrelain woke one particularly grey morning of the year 1578, as the chants of the various birds inhabiting the canopies above Hyrstmill gave spur to the morning of the Twelveswood. Yet nonchalant in his earlier-than-thought rise, the wildwood was not entirely settled into his mind, and led his first steps outside the barracks he had slept in to breathe in the air of the renewed sun. His eyes were able to catch a glimpse of a shadow, moving unsuspected between foliage, thickets and weeds alike. While of not defined shapes, Estrelain swiftly made grip for the hilt of his belt knife, approaching the grass with the lingering sounds of passage: in great surprise, the elezen not only dicovered one hooded individual but a wolf pup seeking embrance in the very target of suspicion. At the exchange of questions and answers, the man revealed himself to be named 'Carbon' and his companion 'Soot' and to be looking for a meal and a bed. Unpleased, but allowing, Estrelain finally questioned the reasons for the sneaky measures adopted by the stranger, and he replied that the less he disturbed the quiet of the forest, the greater would have been Nophica's blessing. After leading the wanderer into the barracks, he swiftly took some fruit and a cloak from his personal cabinet, bestowing bite and shroud for his guest. Carbon added that by having no money, he would have been unable to repay Estrelain, however he would have imparted him lessons of his art. Physical training, and without weapons and armor was his speciality and the wildwood, while initially stating there would have been no need for repayment, he would have gladly taken advice and training, considered his lack in such department. And thus the suns cycled, one after another, and when the man and the dog slept, Estrelain labored for the pay, and when they were of the eye, Estrelain worked his spirit. Hand-to-hand, precision, swiftness and light puissance: these the traits of the bare-handed combat Carbon had Estrelain embrace; for survival, for meditation, for concentration. Word after word, fist after fist, Estrelain took his steps to the dusts of the eastern canyons of Thanalan and to the highest and less forgiving airs of Coerthas, with the objective of allowing his body to eventually admit itself removed of protection and yet resilient and learned in its proficiencies.No training, however concluded without a meal and a read, and with more good will than patience, Estrelain developed an interest through his new mentor for crafting objects, rings and tools with leather and thread. All, in solemn and religious return to Hyrstmill. [1578]■ In the midst of the green of Treespeak, a gentle hum could be heard. Estrelain, on patrol, made his way to where he believed the source was located, with a mind busy with remembering the tedious exercises he would have had to face once his daily duties were taken care of. The wildwood crouched behind the bushes, making his steps slower and is breathing more hushed. The dried leaves on the pathway were recently marched upon, and he followed the trail of apparent slithering. A snake, a white skinned and red eyed one, had dragged itself to a thick and thorned entanglement of scented roses, apparently dripped with the very dying creature's blood. With compassion and silence, Estrelain neared the creature, and swiftly thrust its head to relinquish the pain and struggle. A disgusted look took toll of his expression, the moment he led his pupils once more to the bloodied roses. With notions of the past constantly reminding him the role of his countrymen against the wyrms for over a thousand years, and Estrelain sacked the remnants of the creature for a disposal in the nearby shallow river, which shortly after dyed itself red. Saddened and doubtful of the world surrounding him, he made his way back to the Wailing Barracks, consigning lance and no word to his colleagues before a dignified leave. That night the wildwood ate a bowl of baked beans and bread, accompanied with apple cider and a handful of walnuts, an echo to the meals in the Brume, back in Ishgard. After being asked why his spirit appeared so heavy, Estrelain answered Carbon that it was because his meal was pretty scalding to the tongue. [1578]■ Estrelain found himself taken by the several bells spent with studying leatherworking. Unsure of what to make of the Doman liquor left by a thankful merchant on his way to the markets and wrongly targeted by the Ixal, the wildwood stirred, bored, thirsty for more techniques with the knife and the lace; he advanced to the leatherworkers' guild of Gridania, to seek advice besides that of the old Carbon. Greeted and met, a small copy of 'Introductions to Leatherworking' was handed to him, without many celebrations to seal the apprenticeship. Quite on the contrary, Estrelain found renewed energy to draw from, and distanced himself to the river banks found in the city state for a relaxing read. Being a day of no duty, he decided it was time for his afternoon tea, and promptly made his way to the Carline Canopy, as habit. However, on the way to the Knot from the shallow waters before the Whistling Miller, the wildwood had a change of mind with the sight of a pamphlet depicting a homely tavern ready to receive guests. No opening times were written about, however, by asking around he found out the way to reach this location was by taking a long stroll. Knowing his way within the Shroud, Estrelain engaged in a relaxing walk towards the Mirror Planks, in the central area of the Twelveswood, until taking a ferry was the only logical option to follow, to reach the rather doubtful coordinates. The birds and the leaves were accompanying him, and as vivacious, sunny and bright as the forest turned out to be, the elezen also met the rain while being transported at the other side of the lake, where the Lavender Beds were. At the arrival, there was simply no doubt for him, he indeed had never visited the tavern of mention "The Fated Inn" however, he knew exactly which path to take. A small garden, a brick fence, peach blossom trees, a well and an open fire: these were the first sight at the plot encasing the destination. With the first steps, Estrelain noticed that a group of individuals was effectively busy around the fire, however once discovered by a young midlander female, he immediately apologized for having interrupted. He was soon told that the inn was going to be open in the morrow, and that they, the staff, were consuming their daily supper in the yard because the weather allowed it. Yet, he was invited by the group to take a rest and have a sandwich. He discovered, through a casual and genuine exchange of words, that the group composed by a midlander bounty hunter, Mackenzie Hawk, Grumbling Behemoth, a roegadyn cook and tavernkeep, and Shy the Raen protege of Grumbling were indeed a tight-knight band of decent people. Their words, while casual and seemingly bathing in normalcy, were much more welcome and felt that any of those a high lord of the Holy See could hope to be hauling at his followers. Estrelain felt relieved, and truly at peace. He in-fact asked if he could spend the remainders of the evening meditating by the fire, and even if they knew him not, an allowance was given. Estrelain basked in the tranquility the place offered, and surrounded by the dimming lights of the sun, he left the group, for all had duties in the morning, including he with the Wailers and the Twin Adders. Promising to be back the following night for a proper meal, the wildwood shared a vial of doman liquor with the people by the fire, before his steps saw the grassy paths of the Twelveswood again and into the night. [1578]■ As promised, after a sun of work by the Barracks and the Adders' Nest, mostly spent reorganizing papers, documents and bringing several logs of information to the Stillglade Fane's reception desk. The wildwood, happened to keep in mind the drive for a meal at the Fated Inn, and shortly after visiting Carbon in Hyrstmill and bringing him food he left in the late afternoon, bound for the same paths he had walked the sun before. Hoping to reach his destination by supper time, Estrelain stopped by a traveling spirits-salesman, purchasing one little flask of Orange Juice-scented oil, coming from La Noscea. With the intention of presenting it as an additional gift he fixed the liquid within the satchel on his belt and pressed on. Halfway towards the Lavender Beds, on the ferry, Estrelain was once more enveloped by a strong scent of roses for a few moments, before it all disappeared as the transporter arrived by the pier. The elezen, eventually returned to the inn, noticing how the open fire was no longer occupied and, without hesitation, made his way into the establishment. The wooden walls, the bricks in those, all leading to the lower area, bustling already with patrons at such a bell. Capturing the scents, he waved to those he could recognize and immediately dropped his belongings by the fireplace, before finding a spot on the only available stool at the counter of the bar. Ordering a "Fated Inn Special" for his meal, he and the seawolf female sitting next to him were presented by Grumbling Behemoth, a feast of enormous proportions, with all sorts of delicacies---yet, surprisingly, Estrelain finished with no hesitation. He soon after ordered a Doman tea, offering the spirit he had taken with himself on the way to the staff as another sign of commendation for their great dedication. Mackenzie seemed to have been busy telling a tale about a hunt of hers, so Estrelain moved his eyes to the library nearby the counter to fetch a book and give himself to literature. "The Book of Reinette", a similar interpretation of the tome Ser Rennebaud had granted him in the past, was his choice and with the bells classing one with another, finally, by evening's end, the tavern remained, while as peaceful, less busy. He was reached by Mackenzie who expressed him her love for poetry. Estrelain pointed out that while her read was indeed historical, the author had hidden poetic verses within, and thus the wildwood proceeded to show his midlander acquaintance. Eventually, he retired by the fireplace, where Grumbling had taken seat to rest and another figure, a seeker of the sun girl was enjoying her cigars. Estrelain was offered one, and upon acceptance, the widest variety of topics were discussed before the flickering tongues of flame, the discovery of Grumbling's deeper demeanor, even if not entirely and the newly made acquaintance of yet another. Hayu of the Lynx tribe was the miqo'te generous enough to share her recreational smoke with Estrelain. Exchanges of words ensued and after a light evening, the wildwood finally paid his order and left then inn, with a strange smile upon his lips. One he had not shown in moons. The moment his boots found the dried leaves of Treespeak once more, his nose detected the smell of roses, for it to vanish once again.

RELATONSHIPS

RELATIONSHIP STATUS LEGEND

♥ Family – ♥ Involved – ♥ Romantic – ♡ Passionate – ♥ Platonic – ♥ Physical – ♦ Friend – ★ Acquaintance – $ Business – � Unsure ✝ Deceased – ✔ Positive – ● Neutral – ✖ Negative – ☠ Enemy

N P C Ser Ondolais A. de Helaraint, father. ( ♥ ✝ ) - beloved father. Estrelain's Thoughts: "The Fury herself paled in comparison to the man he was, and not for his strength, but for his heart. Not a more sincere man I have met, an infinitely fortunate I am to have had him as my father." Ondolais Antoinel Trennetiere, grew as the squire and later steward of a retired and childrenless Temple Knight. After his death, he was left the inharitance of the small house he was the head of, House de Helaraint, Serring himself with the rigorous training he had conducted as a fighter. Later, after joining the Temple Knights he met Senestielle d'Oraguille, heiress and physician of an equally small House and soon love of his life. As they bloomed together, they were able to reinforce House de Helaraint by joining the fortunes together, merging it into one middle-placed House among the others. Due to this decision, the man stepped down as a knight to embrace a new life as caretaker of the estate, managing it in its entirety. While still in their fifties, Ondolais and Senestielle presented the society with a son, Estrelain, whom would have later led the house as his father did. Father and son developed a strong, if not the strongest of bonds, and while if the two were of different views, little Estrelain loved to hear the war reports of his beloved father and esteemed his figure. Yet, while their spirits were high, tragedy struck, and Ser Ondolais was slain in a Dravanian assault of Falcon's Nest, during his many nostalgic visits of the hamlet. Estrelain was not told until one year after his father was buried, hence considering himself humiliated. Dame Senestielle M. d'Oraguille, mother. ( ♥ ✝ ) - strong and gentle mother. Estrelain's Thoughts: "Of the nights I have spent remembering her, there is not one I find myself cherishing my mother's memories and actions." Senestielle Matildie, was the only daughter of Lord Alphonsaux Claudel d'Oraguille and hence last of her line, having Lord Alphonsaux birthed no males. Often carefree and merry-spirited Senestielle or Senée as she was fond of being called by her ladysmaids, was all but the embodiment of a heiress. Reckless, unbelieving in the Fury and most importantly an observant and wise woman. She did not like her father's teachings and thus, at his death, she was finally able to pursue her true ambition: medicine. Training at the Scholasticate of Saint Reymanaud in the fields of surgery and appointed a chirurgeon, the woman met Ser Ondolais when he was brought for healing to a first aid bay she was assigned to, in the Convictory, by the western highlands of Coerthas. Love bloomed, and she continued her profession while educating her own son in the ways of literature, botany and distillation of medicine, whom in return grew extremely attached to his mother. Sadly, she fell irreparably ill right after the death of her beloved husband, and to not add more preoccupations to Estrelain's, she faked a wellbeing that left her almost believably healthy for the following years. However, like every terminal illness or malady, in her case, she succumbed to the call of the Aether, and returned to it, in torment, yet satisfied her son knew not of her suffering. Estrelain faults himself for not noticing her distress. Ser Mauricel Rennebaud, the spent, mentor. ( ♦ ✔ � ) - the only teacher. Estrelain's Thoughts: "Why he would cast me away, I could comprehend. Why he would not follow, I could not." Ser Mauricel was born Rennebaud of a family of merchants from Sharlayan. The man had grown strong and suitable for battle, and when his family settled into the lands of Coerthas, the thirteen-winters old Mauricel was admitted among the Temple Knights, for his strategic and wise decisions after only two years of apprenticeship to an aged, yet experienced knight. What happened during his life until he met Estrelain is perhaps known to him only, but according to Ser Rennebaud his life started when he could channel his knowledge in the molding of a young man into a strong young man. Estrelain consider no other man more honourable than of him, with the exception, if not on-par with his father. Even if his mentor's destiny is dubious, since many years have passed from the sun he was banished from the Observatorium, the wildwood continues to think about his friend and recently, with the amounting will to return to the North, he has started to plan a visit to the Observatorium. Coalcougher Carbon, old traveler. ( ★ ● ) - wandering fistfighting teacher. Estrelain's Thoughts: "Through the leaves, he moved and a shrub and his face were not so dissimilar, yet one cut, one bent. To which the peculiar trait ?" Estrelain made the acquaintance of an old traveler, he covered in dirt and smoke accompanied by his very companion, a charcoal-furred wolf. "Carbon", or so he introduced himself, traveled from the south to the Twelveswood seeking solace from the unforgiving beams of the suns of Thanalan. With being able to defend himself, the thin, yet surprisingly agile elderly midlander asked Estrelain for meal and repose, and thus in return he begun teaching him the arts of bare-handed defense and survival. To date, the wildwood sees him as some sort of mentor that he never officially accepted and that he never was accepted by, yet in the flow of life they helped one another overcome the fatigue left about by the routine. With Carbon and his meditations by the rivers and Estrelain dutiful training in the lance, the fist and the leatherworking, the bells went on and on, with the hope of betterment, secretly undisclosed within. The old man gained the nickname of "Coalcougher" because in his early years he used to works as a coal miner for the Sultanate with one of the trading companies businessing themselves in Ul'dah. Hauteclaire, chocobo companion & steed. ( ♥ ♦ ✔ ) - friend among friends. Estrelain's Thoughts: "She aids me when I am sore, she aids me when I am not. This is what true companionship must feel like." During one night, Estrelain found himself trapped in a ghastly matter, when the chocobo of a porter, local to Hyrstmill, died depositing an egg. Estrelain rain into the night to the Bentbranch Meadows stables to secure the survival of the unhatched egg and suns later was presented with a grey-plumed chirpling he immediately named 'Hauteclaire'. The reason behind his choice stands where his memories stand, and located back in the drawing room of his father's estate, right before a warm fireplace and a tired parent telling young Estrelain feats of legendary heroes. His father, Ondolais, was in fact very often speaking of the fabled sword which the chocobo companion takes the name from, and the wildwood honours his father by carrying his stories in the loyal companion. She seems to be extremely witty as a creature, and terribly fast. Because of her qualities, Estrelain asked her is she felt like undertaking training for combat, and slowly he has commenced doing so with the help of a balanced diet and the supervision of the chocobokeeps. Often she is fighting side-by-side with her friend Estrelain and her signature move is "Choco-slash", or so the wildwood named her usual attack.

P C Grumbling Behemoth, caring stone. ( ★ ● ) - dutiful cook. Estrelain's Thoughts: "A word is better spent asking him for his meals than for his past, know though, the man has incredible traits." One evening, taken by hunger and the drive for relaxation, Estrelain spurred himself from the city state of Gridania to an establishment named "The Fated Inn". There, before a cooking fire in the garden, he was able to make the acquaintance of a cook, seemingly quiet and hushed but with undoubted skills for his trade that offered him a sandwich. He also shared what passion he had for preparing his meals, detailing every single possible hue in the process. Estrelain offered him his Doman liquor, so that he could experiment with it. He appears to be very fond of Shy, a raen Au Ra girl especially attached to the roegadyn. Mackenzie Hawk, quick and suave. ( ★ ✔ ) - bounty hunter and bartender. Estrelain's Thoughts: "A Spriggan may steal her, possibly confusing the girl with a brilliant stone.." Lively, upbeat, great worker. Some of the words specific to the character of Mrs Mackenzie Hawk, or 'Mack'. As one of the people met by the cooking fire of the Fated Inn, Estrelain discovered that the cheerful young midlander woman, was a bounty hunter with a passion for serving drinks during her spare time. A gaffe followed, wherein Estrelain wrongly addressed her with an honorific specific for unamrried women, knowing not that she was in fact bonded to somebody by the name of Flynn. She offered him a sandwich of the pile Grumbling Behemoth had prepared for the night and accepted a share of the Doman apricot liquor that Estrél had brought with himself. She asked the wildwood to come back the night after for a proper meal and inside the tavern itself. Shiori Higurashi, silent soul. ( � ● ) - dweller of the grass. Estrelain's Thoughts: "She gave no words, yet her movements were her voice." As Estrelain met with Mackenzie Hawk and Grumbling Behemoth, he also met 'Shy', as Mrs. Hawk had pointed out as both a joke and a name. The very quiet raen remained at Grumbling Behemoth's side for the majority of the time he spent by the fire, and every now and then gave signs of enjoying the evening, by either playing with grass or scouring the sky with hopeful eyes. X'hayu Nhokhi, bottled determination. ( ★ ✔ ) - mercy of the sultanate. Estrelain's Thoughts: "Though leather and steel impoverish one image, her fashion is that of the mind and the resolve." Glad to have made her acquaintance, Hayu met Estrelain during one serene evening at the Fated Inn, after she attempted to convince an allegedly Garlean female to feel safe within the establishment. After supper, he gathered around the fire with Grumbling Behemoth and her, and she shared her tale and an excellent cigar with Estrelain and the roegadyn. The miqo'te speaks freely of her concerns and she struck Estrelain's mind with her strong spirit and simplicity, while effectively serving a noble cause as a mere person, and not a valiant hero. Individual's Name, relation. ( ★ ● ) - title. Estrelain's Thoughts: "Estrelain's thoughts." History.

RUMORS

N P C Some of these rumors are untrue, speculation, or are greatly exaggerated. ◢ Common Rumors - Easily overheard. Use these freely! ■ "Can he be less dignified for once ?" — Hyrstmill Archer. ◢ Uncommon Rumors - A little more difficult to hear. Use sparingly or ask first! ■ "Clearly he understands when it isn't right to speak." — Celeanne, grocer. ◢ Rare Rumors - Very rarely overheard. Please ask before using! ■ "Shaped to fight, yet unable to." — Romuald, Diplomat from the Thalassocracy.

P C Feel free to add your own rumors to this section. ◢ Player Character Rumors - Some of these are more rare than others! ■ "Rumor..." — Player Character's Name.

MUSIC

Requiem #1 Dies Irae, Libera Me - Giuseppe Verdi Artist: Giuseppe Verdi Origin: Classical Context: Main character theme.

GALLERY

OUTFITS

ARTWORK

OOC NOTES

OOC INFORMATION Player Note I expect a clear IC / OOC division in RP. Estrelain's feelings and my feelings are separate. I am not opposed to friendships, but if an OOC relationship becomes stifling or uncomfortable, I won't hesitate to address the issue, or cut contact. Similarly, I hope that others are also as open in this regard as I am. I prefer clear lines of communication with whomever I am RPing with, and those I am RPing with should always feel free to send a /tell to clear up any questions. I like to think I'm a reasonable person in terms of plots and what I'll allow to happen to my character, but I do have a few hard limits as to things I will or will not allow for my creation. Ultimately, the domain over my character is mine, and I have spent a great deal of time developing him. There will be certain things I refuse to role-play, either because I don't feel they'd have a positive impact on him in the plot, or because I have no interest in the direction it would take my character. There is a lot of information on this character wiki, but it is by no means completely comprehensive. There are chunks of backstory that are left intentionally vague so that details can be later added as developed through creative writing or in role-play revelation. Please keep in mind that anything that cannot be immediately observed about Estrelain is considered OOC, and should not be used in-character. Feel free to use Common or Uncommon rumors freely, if you want to use a Rare Rumor as a plot hook, I would ask that you send me a tell first, to make certain it's alright. Personal RP Limits I like to consider myself a flexible player who is willing to commit to a number of different types of scenes and role-play scenarios, but even I have my limits. If something is on the play list, assume it means yes, as long as it stays within the context of the current play or ongoing plot. A "no" is typically a hard "no", and it means do not ask, and if I am in the mood for it, I gladly will be the one to initiate. ■ I will play mature content and themes (violence, sexuality, drug / alcohol use) as long as they're logical in a plot-driven encounter. Coarse and excessive language. Temporary injury and incapacitation. Temporary imprisonment. Most walk-up encounters. ■ Ask about long-term and/or permanent injury and disfigurement. Long-term captivity or imprisonment. Temporary character death. ■ I won't play permanent character death. Anything mentally scarring. Kidnap and/or rape plots.

CHARACTER TIDBITS Potential Plot Hooks As a man standing between experience and the will to learn, he can be easily found almost everywhere. While the below is by no means comprehensive, it's a kind of spring board for walk-up RP. Longer plots that are meant to run for more than a few quick interactions, please feel free to send me a tell so we can work out a good reason for our characters to get to know one another. I'm always looking for RP, unless I'm actively spamming PvE content. ■ Having found his home away from home in Hyrstmill, Estrelain can be spotted roaming the north-eastern paths of its outskirts very often. ■ Fond of having his tea and fruit juices, he a periodic guest of the Carline Canopy of Gridania. ■ While off-duty, he spurs himself towards the Observatorium, in Coerthas, to better feel connected to his origins. ■ Sometimes, he travels to the eastern reaches of the Black Shroud, claiming to visit friends. Disclaimer Estrelain is loosely based on the concept of an Ishgardian estranged adolescent, slowly making return to his homeland to reunite with his people, and learning his true worth on his journey. May the plot develop further, these shall remain the roots of his plot.. His story takes inspiration by everyday life as seen in Hydaelyn, blended with hints of nostalgia and reminiscent of the San d'Orian life and RP I have performed for over ten years in Final Fantasy XI, as a Dragoon. ■ As many others, I do not type 100% accurate facts when describing certain scenarios or situations, rather I adapt my character around them, but will never invent lore. ■ If an aspect of RP makes you uncomfortable in a scene we're playing, please send me a /tell, letting me know. Communication is very important, more important than potentially keeping immersion. With that said, tells are strictly used for Linkpearls, or OOC communications. I consider /tells OOC, if that matters, therefore feel not obliged to add brackets to your sentences.