Nivie Oirellain

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Ishgard.jpg Ninette Oirellain
Nifatar.png
Anything worth doing is worth overdoing.
Bastard Heiress
Gender Female
Race Elezen
Clan Wildwood
Citizenship Ishgardian
Age 23
Height 6f2i
Weight 150pz
Profession Adventurer
Patron Deity Nald'thal (formerly Halone)
Server 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