Leila Farahmand - CD Update

[AnteaterAshley]

MC Username: AnteaterAshley

Name: Leila Farahmand

Traits and Political Views:

Čajrabenika - Leila is a girl of faith.

Loyal - Given her deeply troubled upbringing, the perceived respect and good treatment that Lord Zapto has granted Leila has made her religiously loyal to House Zapto.

Traditionalist Upbringing - Leila was raised in an extremely traditional, subservient family. She has a tendency to perceive herself at fault, even when that's clearly not the case. Easy to manipulate.

Timid - Meek and deprived of attention in her youth, she is thus determined to prove herself useful to feel wanted. Much of her self-worth is determined by how useful she feels.

Physical Traits:

Ciotterman - Leila has a typical near-occidental complexion. Olive skin, dark eyes, and long, black hair.

Scarred - Leila's hands are heavily scarred from her close encounter with frostbite. She has continuing difficulty wielding tools or precision instruments, as her hands have a small shake to them.

Teenager - Leila was born in the winter of 1773, which makes her 17 years old as of 1790 (when this was last updated). She has a lot to learn from this world, and often falls victim to her naïveté. Her birthday is on February 14.

Likes:
Cornflowers - She finds cornflowers quite pretty. She had one in her room growing up.

Adventure - She's spent enough time cooped up for one life.

Fur - She likes the texture of furs.

Yellow - Leila's favorite color is Yellow.

Textile work - One of few things she could reliably fill her time with in her youth, she has gotten quite good at knitting and sewing.

Singing - Leila was gifted with an angel's voice, it's a shame she was never allowed to join the Tidal Choir.

Dislikes:
Bitter Cold - She nearly died in a blizzard. Needless to say, being caught in terrible cold is quite traumatic for her.

Intense Sunlight - Snow blindness is a real phenomenon! It's painful when the sun is excessively bright, it reflects off the snow.

Solarists - Leila is as religiously devout as her Grand Lord. That is, VERY.

Carrots - Bad taste, bad mouth-feel, not filling, expensive. No good, terrible food.

Farming - She much prefers handling animals rather than crops.

Prolixity - Leila prefers when people cut to the chase (outside proper storytelling, of course.)

Some Goals:

Prove her utility - Leila wants to feel useful, so she will stop at nothing to help out the people of Tal-Sharir.

Embrace her Culture - The people of the mountains have always been resilient and stiff in the face of hardship. That is what defines us.

Live Piously - She wants to live a life worthy of being returned to the divines.

Practice Singing - She always has been jealous of the Tidal Choir. Maybe someday she could join them...?

Background:

Leila was born to a traditionalist family in the winter of 1773. When she was eight, her mother told her a story, huddled around the fire to keep warm. Her voice, tired but purposeful, resonated through the chamber;
'Our family has long served House Zapto. It is this loyalty to our lord that granted us this land, granted us this life we are living now. Life here will never be easy. The mountains are ruthless, and have taken many from us before. It is a fickle thing, really, but that's what makes every new day so beautiful.'

'Many years ago, there was a terrible blight, and the village my grandfather came from faced hardship unlike any other. Scavenging for sustenance, he survived off the meat of rats and the warmth of embers. In the chaos, a grizzled man rallied the people. Meetings in the town became more frequent, and soon it was clear the true authority lay with their new army. They ousted their lord, and seized his wealth. However, they were unprepared for the art of statecraft, and soon society had fallen into complete disrepair. Those who had revolted now found themselves hungrier than before, with organization thrown to the wind'

'Your great-grandfather, who hung onto his loyalty, was spared by the royal armies when justice came for the rebels. All that resulted from the bloodshed was more bloodshed. So this, girl, I pass on to you. Be —-"

Glancing back to her daughter, it was apparent that Leila had fallen asleep long ago.

'Ah, child. I'm sure you'll do just fine' She whispered, tucking her daughter into bed.


1786

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Leila kicked her feet. Staring at the ceiling, completely bored out of her mind. She hummed a choir tune to herself as the cicadas chirped outside her window. Breaking the silence, her brother, Cyrus, opened the door to greet his little sister.

Jolting upright, Leila slammed her head into the sloped ceiling of her cramped room. Set on seeing her brother, she didn't dwell on the pain.
"Cyrus! You're back!" she said in a chipper voice. "How did the seas treat you?"

"Ah, there have been better trips. I sold my haul to some Yeliccian who clearly had no idea how much prismarine shards are actually worth. It's expensive alright, but you won't see me turning down excess cash." Turning around in the doorframe, Cyrus continued as he beckoned Leila downstairs, "Mostly calm waters, typical summer sailing. Come on downstairs, I brought home some quality meats from the Butcher! Mama is preparing dinner as we speak."

Following closely behind, Leila took note of the scars on Cyrus' arms. Clear case of mooring whiplash, some sailor must have been new on the job. Good thing it seemed to be only a minor injury, something like that could just as easily have taken off his arm! Regardless, it's clear that he was not telling anyone the full story.

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As they sat around the table, Papa led the family in prayer to Ardeshir.

"Holy star, with your flaming light, help us guide our ships tonight.
Keep us safe, and keep us warm. Weather us the coming storm."

With a nod, the family dug into their dinner. Cyrus brought in good money seahunting, but it seems his expensive tastes spent money just as fast as he made it. Regardless, you wouldn't see Leila complaining about a hot, tasty meal every now and then. Piping up, Leila broke the silence,

"I hear Friya's dad brought her out for a day of chopping" Leila remarked, between spoonfuls of stew. Leila's father looked up, but kept eating without remark.

"She was telling me alllll about it. She even found an owl's nest in one of the fallen trees!"

Papa glanced up with a growing foul expression on his face, but still continued without remark.

"It got me thinking, why don't you ever take me to the for-"

CRASH

"Again with this, girl? How many times do I have to tell you, I won't be bringing you to the forge! There's an order that needs to be respected, and I won't have some girl running around molten metal!"

His short fuse already lit, Cyrus spoke up in defense of his sister, "And why not have her do something, ANYTHING with her time? Every time I come back, I always find her alone, with her brain leaking out of her ears! Give the girl some purpose, papa!"

"Stay out of this, boy. I've seen my share of grave wounds in my line of work, and I won't be having my daughter join them! As if you have any say in what goes on here, you act like you can just drop in twice a year and tell ME how to raise my daughter?"

Standing up from the table, Cyrus pointed at his father when he shouted, "Oh sure, as if my money from seahunting doesn't keep you fed! You may work hard, but you don't get to discount MY work, MY sacrifice for our family! You think I want to see you only twice a year? Without my job, we'd all be on the brink of starvation like we JUST WERE!"

Leila observed with scared eyes. She had hoped this wouldn't happen, but Cyrus and papa always fight. They're both too headstrong for their own good. Leila knew better than to speak up again, so she simply joined her mama in the kitchen, cleaning. As she stood by her side, she heard her mother quietly weeping. This didn't last long though, as the argument came crashing in again

"... AND WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN TELL ME HOW TO RUN A HOUSEHOLD? YOU'VE NEVER HAD ANY RESPONSIBILITY BUT YOUR OWN! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT TAKES TO KEEP EVERYONE AFLOAT!"

"AND CLEARLY YOU DON'T EITHER, CONSIDERING HOW MUCH I HAVE TO BAIL YOU OUT!"

CRASH

"Ohhhh fuck this. I've put up with a lot from you, old man, but if you want to go it yourself so badly, then you can GO RIGHT AHEAD!"

The slam of their front door echoed through the small interior, and with Cyrus' departure, Papa stormed out of the room as Leila began cleaning up their mess.


1789

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Pulling taught the buckle around her bag, Leila took inventory of her supplies. Canteen? Check. Compass? Check. Route map? Check. Awesome, It's time to go.

As she slowly creaked open her window, she felt the thrill of escape clash with the shame of disobedience. The early morning light reflected off the snow so bright that it was nearly blinding. The chilling mountain air struck her like a slap to the face. Swinging her legs over the windowsill, she said a quick prayer before pushing off the wall into a freefall.

The thick powder snow cradled her landing with relative stealth, although any illusion of warmth she had previously was now long gone. Careful to keep her bag from getting wet, she read her route map.

'Northwest past the point, small footpath, main road, follow the signs. Can't be too hard, right?' Leila thought to herself.

Trotting into the snow, the coming blizzard would cover her escape and fill in her footprints.

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The shame she had previously felt gnaw at her was now replaced with real fear. Her father always said that going out in a blizzard was risky, but really what choice did she have? She was going to get a taste of life, she needed to. After that, she can go back to living at home, but she needs to feel a day of freedom first.

Trotting through the snow, she hummed a tune to herself to keep focus. Really, she had no idea just how deep into the wilderness her home was. The cold winds had claimed the sensation she once had in her face and fingers. Determined, she marched on into the gray fog of the dawn.

It was easy to see at her home. The mountains really hamper any notion of an early sunrise in eastern Carpesia, but she hadn't thought much about the implications the mountains would have on sunrises. Not an intuitive thought to have without ever leaving home, but that didn't stop Leila for feeling foolish for not considering it. The farther into the mountain's shadow she marched, the darker it got, even as dawn drew nearer.

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Leila stumbled over a root. Her strength was rapidly failing her, and she had no idea if she was even on a path anymore. Path, wilderness, they all look the same in half a meter of snow. As she stopped to regain her balance, she just barely heard the distant sound of footsteps shifting in the snow over the whipping wind.

Usually timid and anxious of meeting strangers, Leila's lack of hesitation in pleading for help with these people was unusual, but warranted. Her fingers were turning blue, and her eyelashes had long since frosted over in the unforgiving storm. She could barely squint her eyes to focus on the figures marching through the snow, but she approached nonetheless.

"H-ello sirs, I'm sorry to a-sk this of you, but I appear to be lost, and I need help"

Attempting to keep the illusion of composure through politeness was her best bet, but it was a thin facade. Anyone with half a brain could tell she would not last much longer out here. As she approached closer, she was taken aback by the perimeter men aggressively unsheathing their blades.

"I'm sorr-y sirs" she pleaded, voice cracking from the dry air. "I mean no harm, b-ut I need help. Please."

As her eyes darted from figure to figure, she finally saw something recognizable in the dim light.

Immediately bowing down, Leila felt true fear.

"M'Lord, please forgive me, I c-ouldn't see you - In the snow."

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Gazing down upon the girl, Mikiel Zapto I, Grand Lord of Tal Sharir spoke with authority:

"Girl, I know not what you're doing out here, but it's clear you won't last long in the cold."

Glancing around, his eyes fixated on one of his guard.

"You. Give the girl your cloak. Let us bring her along, She's got no place out here."

The Grand Lord watched closely as one of his guard hoisted the girl onto his horse, and they marched onwards through the snow.

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As birds chirped outside, rays of light beaming through her window coaxed Leila from sleep. Roughly two months have passed since she was taken in by Grand Lord Zapto, and her hands, while scarred, were now free of frostbitten blisters. She had no idea previously how fond of hiking Lord Zapto was, but she appreciated it. It did save her life, after all.

His tendency to wake before dawn left her tired most days, but sometimes she could catch some rest while he was out hiking if she finished preparing for the day early. She had since earned the title of personal chef for the Grand Lord. Fulfilling work, but very little downtime. Zapto had grown bored of all the renowned chefs coming from far and wide to cook for him, and said he preferred the taste from a chef raised here, in the mountains. Regardless of his reasoning, she was grateful beyond words that the Grand Lord had taken her in, in the sense of both immediate danger and freedom. While the environment of a kitchen was stressful, and disappointing the Lord was not an option, she felt truly alive.

As she put together her list of ingredients for the day, she reflected on her journey, and felt an upwelling of pride and loyalty surge through her chest.

[AnteaterAshley]

should be mentioned that her character traits are certainly going to change over time with her life experiences. she's 17 and was raised as a recluse her whole life; her story is primarily one about finding herself, whatever that truly means