Baroness Calla Vaevici
In battle, and life, wins she who seizes the beautiful moment. A true warrior prepares her whole life for it, through discipline and piety. She can never be sure of her success, and the only fear she is permitted to feel is of having allowed her chance to pass by unnoticed.
Description: A saffron waterfall of sun-glazed locks spill in luminous, fiery hues past Calla Vaevici's shoulders, the palette of crimson hues extremely rare among the scions of House Vaevici and the Countess' pride and joy. Expressive amber eyes reprise some of the colors from her hair but glint with mischief of a woman who always has something to say, even if she might not share. Calla's fair skin is unmarked by the sun, the rose in her cheeks reflecting the pattern of her summer palette. Her pale, pink mouth rests in a natural pout, but rouses easily to the full spectrum of smiles. Willowy in build, she lacks any sign of a laborious life other than the minimal amount of muscle tone that comes with daily morning exercise, the contours of her figure the very character of elegance.
Personality: Love your family. Love your country. Love your people. There is no room in the Code for one's self, and Calla wishes she was better than she is, for even though she has memorized the lessons, she still is not comfortable with the eyes she gets from the woman in her mirror. Granted, she was never the best Vaevici, that honor reserved to literally ever other kinsmen of hers. The catch is that now they are dead, and Calla is the leader of those who remain, responsible for carrying her family's legacy.
Even though her people are happy, Calla cannot convince herself. The Code demands perfection, and Calla has locked in her head her own worst judge. Sometimes the reprimands take the voice of her mother, sometimes her father's or siblings', but they always find something to use against her.
Although she is personable, dignified and insightful to most, quite capable of hiding her own insecurities, truth is she might have lost her chance at sleeping soundly at night. This is her burden to bear, for her family, for her country and for her people.
Background: Little known in the Compact, the remote region of the Caldera in the southwest of the Saffron Chain is a war-torn country where entire generations have come and gone without ever knowing peace in their constant wars with other Abandoned. Although conflict intensity has fluctuated over the centuries with scarce recognition by the Compact, most regional Abandoned historians tier their rise to the dominance of House Vaevici, the rulers of the city-state of Sangris, a remote city that Lycene experts on the Saffron Chain thought to be myth. Firm adherents to their Code, an indexed series of principles and stratagems that rule their lives, the so-called Warmongers are more than simple warriors: to them the battlefield is a temple and victory is the only prayer. True victory in life can only be achieved in battle against one's fellow mortals, and for almost a thousand years this attitude kept them feared in the Caldera, but now their power has waned, and their ancient enemies prepare to destroy them, unless a young and unlikely ruler can stop it.
Calla Vaevici is the third child of Novos Vaevici, behind Argos and Valla Vaevici, which precluded her from inheriting anything of any significance. The girl never complained about such an arrangement, however, eager for a life without as many responsibilities as her siblings. Instead of being stuck with tutors at all time, Calla was often out and about in Sangris, meeting her extended family, commoners and foreigners with avid fascination. At home she showed amazing potential for the little she studied, but Calla was set on enjoying a carefree life, much to her father's chagrin.
Calla's nature would make her a savvy diplomat over the years, opening up peaceful solutions to conflict with other Abandoned that her father promptly shut down. Although those decisions would provoke constant arguments between the two, it was Calla, not either of her siblings, who would be called to accompany Novos when he was granted an audience with the last living augurs during the great festival of Carnala. To be in the same room as an augur was the journey of a lifetime, and so she accepted the proposal, embarking on a trip that would end in the death of Novos, his heart giving up on the ride back. The subject matter of their meeting would be Calla's secret to keep.
Not long after Argos took the reins of the Vaevici he would start a war with the neighboring city-state of Serrano. Always hateful towards their neighbors, Argos was also predictable, and he would not survive four months before his brashness got him ambushed and murdered. Valla would fare better, but not by much: her demise would take place in the battlefield, leading the Vaevici forces against the Serrano in the war she did not start, but was in no position to end. She took the day, and vengeance on House Serrano's oldest son, but perished nonetheless. After her death, the Caldera was engulfed in war. Under these circumstances Calla Vaevici became Magistrix, a position she never wanted, her House crippled in debt and disarray. In Sangris, only Calla's noble allies kept the mobs from rioting against the most recent war, and outside their crimson walls enemies howled, ready to excise the Warmongers from the Caldera forever. The only way out, for Calla, was to take a path her predecessors would have not: kneeling to the Great House of Pravus, the stunning new arrivals to the Saffron and the first sign of the Compact many of her people had ever known, and kneel to their might that of the warriors who had just bested the Eurusi of Skal'daja.
Her political situation is still frail, many of the nobles of Sangris despise Calla while her enemies now pause and strategize on how to deal with Sangris' new allies and take their victory, but she has changed the landscape and silence the cries for blood. Whatever she does now, the Chain will be watching with baited breath, witnessing what might be the last days of the Vaevici.
|Dacian||Nevermind the hair, watch out for the sharp tongue.|
|Drusila||Hmm. Well! I certainly approve of her and I think she and Titus will make a good, solid team. They compliment one another. I'll make up my mind about her when I see how she reacts to this here gift.|
|Ilira||Lovely girl and knows it. As poisonous as she is exquisite, this Saffron flower. We all are. Beware your gardens, Compact!|
|Iseulet||A woman, like I, that has suffered through intense heartbreak and loss. Unlike me, it seems she's come out the other side better than she was to begin with. I can respect that. I hope to finish our picnic soon.|
|Miraj||What beautiful hair! I'm just mad about the color. I'm honored to be able to call myself her hair dresser. Any time, my dearest saffron headed beauty.|
|Mirari||Elegant in her aggression, like a sharp sabre. She makes me wonder how Sangris might look like. I think I would like it there.|
|Mortimer||Hawkmour is happy to help out a fledgeling ally so that her wings grow strong.|
|Razija||Warmonger? I don't know about that. Seems too nice for all that. Maybe she'll grow into it?|
|Rook||A Baroness without pretense, truly refreshing. She appears to have a keen mind and ambition. A great combination...|