VALANCE, Rosaline

GENDER: Female.
AGE: Twenty-five.
BIRTHDAY: June tenth.
RACE: Avaren.
SEXUALITY: Heterosexual.
LEVEL: Mage.

MOTHER: Melania Valance, 45, Herbalist.
FATHER: Tyrell Valance, 56, Metalsmith.
BROTHER(S): Kinson Valance, 22, Apprentice.
SISTER(S): No sisters.
SPOUSE: Currently single.
CHILDREN: No children.
PET(S): An old and cantankerous family cat, named Abner.
OTHER: Her great aunt, Igraine, was a well-known and highly respected teacher within Faelbane before her sudden and unexpected passing. Rosaline had never had the opportunity to meet her personally, though she believes she inherited her magical capabilities from the older woman.

SKILLS: Her talents lie primarily in illusion magic, though she has also exhibited some proficiency in alchemy. This is likely due to her mother's influence as a herbalist.
WEAKNESSES: Conjuration and elemental magics.
SPECIAL ABILITIES: None to speak of.

As though in testament to her people, Rosaline exudes a dark and sultry appeal. With her complexion the same dusky bronze of her kinsmen, and hair a tumble of burnished curls, anyone would agree that she embodies the very essence of what it means to be an Avarenian woman. The only betrayal to her heritage lies in her stature, which is considerably more slight and delicate when compared to other females of her native race. Her eyes also are unusual, though more-so in their silvery-blue color than in the attractive almond shape of them. Fringed in long, dark lashes they prove a stark contrast to an otherwise swarthy and visually exotic physiognomy. Sharp planes and angles create the deep contours and hollows of admittedly exquisite features, paired with a severe brow and pronounced cheekbones. Some might venture to say these things endow her with a very regal, aristocratic bearing, although Rosaline herself would readily disagree. A lush mouth sits - often frowning - above the point of a stubborn chin and a sharp jawline, all things very much proportionate to one another to compose the countenance of young woman within the prime of her youth. In terms of garb and accessories, she much prefers to keep things simple, opting for long slinky gowns and little to no jewelery. She does indulge in a bit of color every so often, seeming fond of deep navies and rich emeralds. However, she is not an extravagant or luxurious woman by any means. And more often than not, you'll find her in white with her hair done up away from her face. With Rosaline, practicality will always trump fashion.

Wild, unbridled and vivacious, Rosaline had at one time been a young girl of endearing temperament and an infectious charm. She had wondered at the simplest pleasures in life, and had maintained an unwavering sense of hope and optimism about all things, especially in regards to her own future. But time spent away from the familiarities of home and the love of family have since fashioned her into a stoic, uncompromising young woman. There is no doubt she has become hardened over her years spent training within Faelbane, choosing isolation in favor of social niceties to focus entirely upon honing the magic that stirs, hungry and impatient, deep within herself. There is a fierce longing for acceptance that she chooses not to act on, and instead has separated herself from her peers so that she may concentrate solely on her craft. Some have, understandably, mistaken this for pride and arrogance; both traits inherent within corrupt mages. And thus they have distanced themselves as well, snubbing Rosaline and her reclusive behavior. It stings, to a point, but she refuses to indulge the unconfirmed gossip that surrounds her and her strange mannerisms. Thus, she often spends time alone or in the company of her teachers, sometimes seeking solace in their wisdom and words of encouragement. They buffer her lacking self-confidence, and help to ease her self-inflicted loneliness by giving her further instruction and training. Although it has been some time since she completed her apprenticeship, she has long since acknowledged the fact that there will always be room for improvement. She has always been an individual that strives above and beyond what is expected of her, and is intolerant of any personal failures.

Rosaline's shy and impersonal nature has made it difficult for her to collaborate with other magic users. Understandably, she has never done particularly well in groups or pairs. She prefers to rely solely upon herself, confident in what she can do as opposed to having to lend faith in someone she does not know in any intimate manner. This skepticism and distrust troubles both her teachers and the arcane masters alike, as a wayward mage can prove to be dangerous and volatile if they come to resent the people around them. Of course, she has never exhibited any other signs of corruption, and so they leave her to own devices, reassuring themselves that she is simply a late bloomer and will become more involved in the community and circle when she feels more at ease. The nature of the specific strain of magic she has chosen to pursue also has some hand in why she is the way that she is, although it is never openly discussed. But for all of her flaws and misgivings, she has proven to be an exceedingly capable mage. Equipped with a sense of determination and ambition that is unwavering and relentless, the practice of magic has come to define who she is and how she intends to shape her own fortune. Through it, she has learned self-discipline and patience. Paired with a sharp wit and a high intellect, Rosaline is regarded as a force to be reckoned with and could easily someday earn a place amongst the arcane masters. But that is one path she has no interest in taking, having set her sights on something far greater beyond the walls of Faelbane.

She intends on returning to Avarnia, her ancestral homeland, to free her people from the subjugation and the torment that they currently endure beneath the rule of their tyrannical queen.

She understands that it is a task both perilous and foolhardy. After all, what could one woman possibly achieve when faced with an entire army? Regardless, she knows that she cannot simply stand idly by and watch as the country is torn asunder. Shortly after her apprenticeship began, she had entertained ideas of freeing the Avarenian slaves and of using her power to aid them in regaining their rights and stolen freedoms. Her resolve has only grown stronger over the years, and now she is readying herself to embark on the long journey south. Neither her peers nor her former teachers know of her intentions, though she suspects some of them may have suspicions. It matters little, as they no longer hold any sway over her actions, and can only shake their heads and watch powerlessly when she chooses to depart. She has never been an easy woman to coerce or convince once her mind has already been set. Her opinions and beliefs remain unchallenged in her mind, and being as closed off as she is, it's a near impossibility to break through her tough exterior in order to beseech the softer, more reasonable woman within. It's all simply a matter of meeting the right people. People who know exactly how to appeal to her better judgement and aren't intimidated by her blunt, forthright approach or her aloof demeanor. More than anything she needs someone who can understand her, though she knows that's a great thing indeed to ask.

The years preceding her birth were harsh and riddled with cruelty and much hardship. Both her mother and father had been born within the distant country Avarnia, and suffered throughout their childhood and adolescence beneath the ruthless and domineering reign of a Queen with selfish ambition and little regard for her own people. They fell into an economic crisis, and morale was shockingly low. Yet, no one would dare defy her. Her power and authority were too far-reaching, and the punishment for treason was death. They had little choice in the matter save for simply enduring the bleak, discordant conditions and going about life as best as they knew how. Their marriage was one small ray of hope amidst the darkness that governed their lives. They worked hard for very little, but they had one another from which to derive the strength and tenacity with which to carry on. By the time that Melania became pregnant with her daughter, there had been talk of a rebellion. They were just whisperings at first, but there were many who agreed with their sentiments. They had taken all that they could, if they remained there any longer, they would surely die. The country was collapsing in on itself, and within a handful of years, it would be a desolate and barren place. Rosaline's parents knew that it was no place for raising a child, and their resentment for the queen's oppressive rule had grown to the point where they were ready to act on their silent defiance. Thus, with only a few months remaining before Melania was due to give birth, they departed from their home with only the clothes on their back and some provisions. There were a good number of people who joined them, while others decided to remain for fear of being discovered and tried for their disloyalty. And, finally, they set out.

Without horses with which to carry them swiftly, they managed on foot for several days. It was at the peak of summer and the white hot sun bore down on them, steadily slowing their progress. They avoided the first few settlements that they came across in their travels, plagued by the fear that the queen had sent soldiers to intercept and apprehend them. Some of their party wound up suffering heat stroke, and the rest of the group was forced to camp and care for them before they could move on. Time was precious, and every day felt as though they were in a futile race against it. In the end, they reached Van'ostgar without much incident and began the difficult task of starting their lives anew. Her mother offered her services as a seasoned herbalist and midwife, delivering children and offering home-brewed medicines to ease the pain and fever. The people of the city came to respect her for her skill and her kindness. Her father took up metal working, something he had always been particularly good at, and fashioned a wide range of things. From tools to jewelry, he brought in overwhelming profit and managed to finally help secure a steady enough income that would support themselves and the baby that was on its way.

And sure enough, a month after they settled themselves in a new home, Rosaline had arrived.

She was the most precious thing they had ever laid eyes on, and loved her dearly from the moment she wriggled her tiny toes and blinked up at them with wide, glassy eyes. They were the most doting parents if there ever were any, although one could never claim them of spoiling her, even at such a young age. Melania and Tyrell had high hopes for their daughter. More than anything, they wanted to raise her to become a woman who was as strong and capable as she was kind and generous of spirit. They raised her to appreciate the value of hard work, and to never take even the smallest or most insignificant things for granted. After all, they had gone so long themselves with nothing that they realized how quickly it could be taken away from them. They shaped Rosaline based on their own mistakes and the lessons they learned from them, and ultimately raised a little girl any one parent could have been immensely proud of. She was a joyous little thing, and spirited! Her father would often laugh and comment on how she always gave the village boys a hard time, and then sulked when they did not want to include her in their activities. Always full of mirth, she laughed easily and was hardly ever seen without that dimpled smile she became so known for. Her curiosity was insatiable, and her sense of adventure strong. She seemed afraid of nothing - a fact that caused her mother great distress - and embraced danger, risk and the ensuring consequences. She was undeterred in all things, and enjoyed a very happy and fulfilled childhood. That's when, at approximately eight years old, she experienced her first taste of magic.

She had been playing in the creek with two younger boys and their sister. An untoward remark was made, and Rosaline took offense at it. They teased and provoked her, to the point where she felt herself on the verge of tears. But they did not come, and instead she was met with the sudden cry of one of the boys. He seemed to be staring at something, though it was not tangible to the rest of them, as they simply looked on, perplexed by his outburst. His friend, growing impatient, told him to cut it out, that there was only empty air in the direction his was pointing. But the other boy remained in distress, describing some manner of beast as it apparently prowled towards him with an open maw and jagged fangs. Within moments he had run home, leaving his siblings behind to stare accusingly at Rosaline. When they were gone, exhaustion consumed her, and she lost consciousness. When she finally came to, she was lying in bed with her mother pressing a cool cloth to her forehead. She informed Rosaline that the boy's parents were quite irate that she had caused their son such grief. He apparently hadn't stopped crying since he had returned home several hours earlier. They demanded to know what she'd done to distress him so, but Rosaline had no answer for them. She recounted the story, and then her mother and father convened behind closed doors for a discussion she could not make out. When they returned, they both looked concerned, and ordered her to visit and apologize to the boy at first light the next day.

Similar occurrences would transpire, and became more frequent the older she became. Eventually, the majority of villagers avoided her altogether, believing her to be cursed. And perhaps she was. Neither Rosaline nor her parents understood what was happening, or why. All they could do was make their reassurances that everything would be fine. That perhaps she should pay a visit to shaman that resided at the edge of the city. Rosaline of course argued that the man was crazy, and that a visit to him would only serve to fuel the rumors circulating about town. But they insisted that they had no other choice, and ordered her to bed. She did not sleep fitfully that night. Nightmares plagued her. Faceless shapes and monsters far more terrifying than what she could have imagined on her own rose before her eyes and terrorized her. She became flushed with fever, and fell further into despair as the visions became overwhelming. Her screams tore through the family home, waking her mother and father, but they could not wake her. Cold water, a shake of the shoulders, even a quick slap across the face was not enough to rouse her from whatever haunted her. She was trapped within her own mind. When they called upon the eldest and most renown Healer of the city, she only confirmed their worst fears. If they did not find a way to call her back to reality, her mind would be irreparably maimed. She would withdraw into herself indefinitely. But she had no solution for them. There wasn't anything to be done, and for a moment, they were convinced that they had lost their daughter to insanity.

That is the first time Carlisle Amherst were to enter her life.

He materialized within the doorway of their small, modest home and the Healer recognized him immediately, treating him to a look that bespoke of her respect and fear for the man. He did not say anything, did not even acknowledge their presence as she knelt directly alongside the cot where Rosaline lay. Several minutes passed. His eyes were closed, and his brow was furrowed. Before long, the girl's screams subsided and her breathing fell into a calmer and more rhythmic pace. With her nightgown soaked through with sweat, and her complexion gone ghostly white, she looked as though she had been brought back from the land of the dead. Later Carlisle would explain that he was one of the arcane masters that devoted himself to the circle and the training of apprentice mages within Faelbane. Rosaline was experiencing the onset of her own power, he said, a more or less normal occurrence with those blessed with illusion magic. Still, he'd been surprised by how powerful and averse her reaction had been to the final manifestation. He was only able to save her by counteracting the negative visions and uncontrollable hallucinations with his own. If it had taken any greater length of time however, he would have been drawn into her endless nightmare as well, and they would have both been doomed. Following the incident, and after Carlisle had introduced himself to Rosaline, he extended an offer to attend Faelbane, wherein she would learn to control and hone her innate magical prowess. Initially she refused, frightened at the prospect of being spirited away from her family to live amongst people she did not know. But Carlisle took a moment to remind her that her magic was as of now wild and untamed. If she did not learn to harness it, she could eventually become a danger. Not only to herself, but to those she loved as well.

And if the magic were to take hold of her again, as it had the night before, she would not survive it.

And so she departed for the tower that had been described to her several times already, bound by the fate of someone blessed with a unique gift. She was a dedicated, ideal student. But her time there would change her forever. She no longer exists as the cheerful, optimistic young girl she had been, but as the sombre young woman whom had been consumed and tested by her own power more time than she could count. For the first year and a half she suffered unimaginable nightmares and atrocities, but Carlisle was there to see that she prevailed. Eventually she came to apprentice under him, and they developed a strong, deeply-rooted bond, transcending what was normally shared between master and student. They would become great friends. But now that she has discovered the fate of her people, and the injustices of her ancestors, she has set her focus upon a distant land plagued by slavery and corruption. And she knows now that it has always been her destiny to use what she has learned to do something great with her life. Nothing will deter her from the path she has chosen for herself.