Werzelya
The Maronjan Beldam
A story tells that five hundred years ago an Elven woman gave birth to a blind and sickly baby in the North Market of Maronja. The child was perceived as useless and unworthy of being the woman's daughter, when the girl reached the age of six months old her family decided they would sell her to the witches that roamed the stalls of the markets for a handsome price. The girl was then raised being surrounded by witchcraft and blood magic, which she felt gave her purpose in a world that rejected her and would've left her for dead if not for her fortunate purchase.
As the years past she began to stop aging and was deemed gifted despite her apparent health issues which should have spelled an early death, however to her this was catastrophic. Dying was a outcome she longed for, she would perform magic and be told of its magnificence but was unable to ever see the strange beauty that would weave from her fingertips, a cruel existence... A strange method of torture from the gods. The decades and centuries passed and those who the young girl had grown up with and been raised by would succumb to sweet death, tears would run down her unwrinkled face countless times, thinking the next time she wouldn't cry and yet with every person that left her for the afterlife, it would only become a more unbearable pain.
Eventually she resorted to self inflicted damage in an attempt to sever her consciousness from the physical body she possessed. Stabbing, slicing, crushing were among the countless methods that were attempted but a killing blow seemed all but impossible, however in the third century of the Elven woman's shallow existence a undeniable opportunity presented itself. A large ship docked itself on the Maronjan shores, its sails gracefully blew in the wind, dawned with a sigil of a lonely eye with fingers protruding out from it.
I remember the moment so clearly, despite it being so long ago. How could I forget? What person could live for hundreds of years envisioning the corpses of those who they love be consumed by the worms of the dirt in which they lay buried... The sound of my salvation was so beautiful, the way those sails screamed as the stormy winds hit them, i- it still leaves my mouth salivating thinking about it. The way her boots clicked across the stone as she exited that ship, her voice so so absent of worry even as the loud thunder cracked in the distance, all that came from that voice was an offer and I took it. As I grabbed the necessaries from my tent, the tribe who I belonged to warned me that a silver haired witch can never be trusted, but who was I to make decisions based on appearance? After all, the only thing I've ever known is the cold darkness.Since that day the girl named Werzelya has been a member of The Alvearius Authority.
Relationships
Currently Held Titles
Year of Birth
5633 AE
601 Years old
Spouses
Siblings
Children
Gender
Female
Eyes
Clouded
Hair
Light, Long, Brown
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Pale, Fair, Thin
Height
5'6"
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