Geneviève Frankling
Simultaneously a hereditary noble and a zealous exemplar of social mobility, chevalière banneresse Ermengarda Geneviève Frankling Ponvarorum belongs to one of the more peculiar aspects of Frankonian culture. As a member of the Frankling lineage, Geneviève traces her ancestry to the first settlement of the island, to a noble clan from the time of the Solar Exodus. Today, the Golden Republic is ruled by merchants and inhabited by everyone else, and what once was the landed elite have since turned into the most ardent advocates of justice, liberty, and equality on the island.
This small cadre of vestigial nobles tread a fine line between being merely outspoken to borderline revolutionary. Geneviève has crossed that line many times – after all, true justice is blind.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Geneviève was born and raised in Ponvarus, growing up in the Franklings’ dynastic Rannvois Estate in the Golden Arrondissement of the capital. With six siblings her senior and three her junior, each one bursting with ambition and one-upmanship, the private classes afforded to the family’s scions often turned loud, rowdy, and on occasion, violent. As a disciplinary measure, all but one of the young Franklings were sent away to train under private tutors: Geneviève was sent to squire Sir Horzin Thornleaf, a ranking paralictor in the Hellknight Order of the Nail. Belittled as “Little Lady Justice,” Geneviève learned to despise her mentor and the merciless Hellknights, though his lessons were ultimately welcomed.
On her 18th birthday Sir Horzin’s tutelage ended, and Geneviève marked the occasion by leaving her armiger’s equipment wrapped in a woven banner bearing the Old Frankonian words DAMNATUS, PRODITOR ET ADVERSARIUS in front of a statue of Lady Justice. She was consequently indicted for public disorder and grave libel, serving a reduced sentence of eight months in house arrest. Still, as higher studies are expected for members of the Frankling lineage, Geneviève used this time to prepare for entry to the Constitutional State Academy; however, her family refused to sponsor her, for reasons unknown. However, they did bestow her with a title, chevalière banneresse (meaning banner knight), perhaps indicating affection, or perhaps it was issued as a living reminder of her crime.
Instead, then-legate Edwige de la Fleur de Lys was willing to sponsor Geneviève’s education, in return for her signing a contract with the Golden Legion. She accepted her offer, studied for three years, passed the Legion’s officer candidate examination, and signed on to serve as a laurifer, a junior officer permitted to have a gilded laurel wreath attached to their helmet. She was assigned to the IV Golden Legion, colloquially known as the Shadow Legion, serving in the first centuria of the first cohort, which is a prestigious assignment. The benefits of serving in the Golden Legion may seem favourable: complete income tax exemption, ready access to legionary clerics for any ailment, and minimal exposure to real danger (notwithstanding a posting in the Yelanid Alliance). But for Geneviève, the act of taking risks in service of immaterial ideals comes first. Which the Golden Legion simply does not allow.
Legionary Durées and Venture Pledge
Golden Legionnaires are stationed on active duty for three consecutive two-year periods, known by the Frankonian term durée, followed by a two-year venture pledge. During the venture, legionnaires are effectively placed on paid leave but are expected to keep themselves fit for duty. Geneviève spent her first durée as a customs and duty officer in Ponvarus; the second as a drill instructor on behalf of the Great Trade League's representation in Zimmerheim; and the third as a guard commander in the Republican ambassadorial retinue stationed in Gardagrad during the Great Succession Wars. Though the wars never reached the Kaliyevan capital, Geneviève saw its silent wake: empty streets in broad daylight, quiet evening taverns, and busy temples on the days when couriers arrived with dire news from the front.
When her venture pledge started, Geneviève set out to walk some of the war’s notable battlegrounds: her first destination was the fortress-city of Makhattala, where the united forces of the Three Winter Realms drove back the Kang invaders. She visited the dynastic mausoleum of the extinct royal house of Chermogiev, butchered to the last by Kang assassins during the siege. Thereafter she headed for the wooded outskirts of Karakhasa, where the bolts, halberds, and countermagics of the White Sentinel Grand Company decisively crushed the remnants of the Avatar's Jun Banner and forced him to flee in disgrace. She stood on the ridgeline where the Spears of Heaven had made their last stand, their valour immortalised in a humble battlefield memorial established by the regimental commander of the Sentinel’s vanguards. The last site on her journey ended up being the frozen town of Davgorod, now only populated by frostbitten corpses. The once-prosperous Yarskoviyan charter town was suddenly destroyed by an unrelenting onslaught of blizzards and hailstorms after its boyar council denounced Svetlana’s rule and declared allegiance to rebel autonomists.
All in all, travelling through war-torn landscapes and listening to tales by garrisoned foreign mercenaries provided Geneviève with a much richer sense of the world, and served to strengthen her existing beliefs:
Sic semper tyrannis.
Relief Officer on the Swift Mermaid
During the transfer from Zimmerheim to Gardagrad, Geneviève received word from Jeanne de La Brouhaha, a Chancellery official and friend through correspondence, who persuaded her into joining the adventuring crew of the Swift Mermaid in an official capacity. Most of the ship’s crew could fight, but they were poorly disciplined and could not fight as a cohesive unit. And so Geneviève joined the Swift Mermaid, serving as the vessel’s principal drill instructor.
For one week.
For that was all the time spared until the ship descended, in a literal sense, to the bottom of the ocean in order to infiltrate an underwater temple containing scores of illithids led by an aboleth. Geneviève was a part of the relief force. Which was made up by, more or less, all the non-essential crew members and the ship itself. Almost as if a living, breathing, thinking madman was in charge of this operation. Nevertheless, even though the Swift Mermaid came under direct attack by mindflayer-manned ships, Geneviève and the crew stood fast until their objective was fulfilled. She stood at the fore, absorbing as much of the incoming fire as possible; her shield snapped in half from a stray grapeshot projectile; her body turned numb from all the arrowhead impacts absorbed by the armour; until finally, the force impact from a ramming vessel sent her flying back-first into the mast, sustaining spinal injuries and losing consciousness. In need of divine healing, she requested to be taken to a magister clericus in Ponvarus, but the Swift Mermaid did not wait for anyone’s recovery. Jeanne and Geneviève maintained their correspondence afterwards.
And for a ship that ultimately recorded an alarmingly high casualty rate for its crew, nearly one out of every two shipmates, one can hope that the Golden Legionnaire’s efforts prevented it from being a statistically even one.
Social
Mannerisms
The fires of liberty and equality, the two republican virtues, burn bright inside Geneviève. And though she has tempered her aggressive personality since becoming a legionary, she remains incredibly proud of Frankonia and is a model of what the Republic stands for (and not what it actually is). A pragmatic tactician and unconventional combatant, Geneviève values honour, honesty, and strong personalities, and dislikes material greed, deceitfulness, and blind conformity to tradition.
Relationships

System
Pathfinder 2e
Class
Fighter
Known Languages
Common
Frankonian
Old Frankonian
Pathfinder 2e
Class
Fighter
Current Location
Species
Honorary & Occupational Titles
Little Lady Justice (by Sir Horzin)
Age
27
Spouses
Siblings
Children
Gender
Female
Eyes
Light blue
Hair
Short blonde
Height
6'7
Aligned Organization
Other Affiliations
Frankonian
Old Frankonian
Bloody Retrieval
Sextidi, Germinal, décade 21, DCCLXXXIX
L’agenda journalier de Geneviève
Sextidi, Germinal, décade 21, DCCLXXXIX.
Sextidi, Germinal, décade 21, DCCLXXXIX.
On dit quelquefois, le sens commun est fort rare.
I never expected the whim of circumstance to bless me in the triangulation of my would-be scammers. Nor that it would be without trouble and adversity. It was easy enough to search one of the thieves’ abandoned homes and discover the extent of their illicit operation via a forgotten schematic of their mountain hideout. If only we were quicker, for now they all lie dead, massacred by the undead; hollowly avenged by our spells and blades. The sole survivor, Dorian – one of the two who swindled me – fell victim to some variation of foul sorcery after refusing to relinquish a small lockbox. There exists no cause for which this loss of life is warranted. Especially not over some magical rock! Ki’tor and our new tag-along freelancer detective Jane certainly seem quite blasé over all this death. I understand why a Kang nobleman might not react to the death of dozens, hundreds, or thousands of extinguished futures – after all, unprovoked acts of aggression constitute their mandate’s raison d’être – but Jane makes me wonder. She looks youthful but has the habits and tone of a dismissive and aphoristic grandmother. My words have already been judged, my character thus established: naïve, inexperienced, arrogant. I hope she stays around – maybe she’ll learn something!
Do I trust the holy clergy of the Platinum Flame with this ensorcelled box? Never in a thousand years. But you can always count on self-interest, and I expect the abbot will want to follow up our discoveries. The ghoul blurted out the name Morbrand – maybe it means something to an erudite Scaelorian.
Nevertheless, we live and we continue. I have my armour back and my brother seems to be regaining his senses. Maybe. He did make a blood sacrifice without hesitating – now that’s an unelectable offense!
The Golden Path
Primidi, Germinal, décade 21, DCCLXXXIX
L'agenda journalier de Geneviève
Primidi, Germinal, décade 21, DCCLXXXIX.
Primidi, Germinal, décade 21, DCCLXXXIX.
Le mieux est l’ennemi du bien.
It’s been too long since I’ve simply wandered. A destination in mind, bien sûr, but the road there? Completely at the benevolent mercy of chance and the beautiful whim of impulse. We set out for Scaelor – a stunning realm bristling with venerable forests home to dryads and druids, rolling farmlands cared for by cozy homesteaders; its rich legacy ever-present in the many ruins scattered around its periphery. The feigned adulation of its tyrannic past on full display. The high and mighty disguising their violent urges and want for control in the dragon’s visage. Willingly held captive by the flickering shadows of the past – never choosing to escape to the sunlit skies of the present! We’ve seen so much radiance and kindness here – vita est, spes est! There is life, there is hope!
And we first disembarked in Honeyport. A sleepy village, victim of deliberate administrative neglect, impoverished but unbowed. Thus tyranny slumbers, and the people live freer than others under its yoke. Due to favourable winds, we didn’t worry about time. So, off into the outer edges of the Feyfire Forest we went, tripping into Bill the grippli! He was a little apprehensive – who wouldn’t be upon meeting three strangers, two of them nearly four times taller than you, heavily armed, and clad in steel and gold; the last one being an actual dignitary from contemptible Kang, dressed in white and emanating pure, distilled arrogance? But we had a lovely few days together! Meeting his animal friends, seeing how he cares for the forest, exchanging tales from our journeys, and even having dinner with the Duststones – a sweet married couple, they run a farm south of Bill’s home. I was sad when we had to leave. But I promised to return whenever we passed by!
We next found ourselves strolling towards the Treetop Tavern, which comfortably takes a high spot, and not just metaphorically, in my list of favourite taverns – beating the Sleeping Bastard, certainly. Not the Gilded Mermaid, because they operate their own bathhouse – with free entry to all guests. In truth, I have trouble remembering much from our stay there. I had a bit much to drink. But I recall defusing a confrontation between Pierre and the owner. Or maybe it was the other way around? And what did Ki'tor do to earn the ire of the bouncer?
The last stretch of the journey to Vael’s Rest brought us outside the walls of Vel Arynth. But looking like we do, and being foreigners, and not being wizards (a point frequently emphasised by Ki'tor), we agreed to simply grace its outskirts with our presence and move on. We avoided the Mage’s Road for good measure and trotted alongside a scenic lake coast. Pierre thought me ridiculous to spearfish! Maybe he was correct, but it was fun! Those were our last days of aimless sightseeing, after all.
We will be upon Vael's Rest soon, after crossing the bridge. I hope my eminent friend’s intuition is better this time – I have no wish to offer my expertise in the aid of impatient chercheurs de l’abîme.
“Republican legate.” It is my sincere wish that I never have to pretentiously invoke that sinecure. But thank you for conferring it, Jeanne. The gesture is well-intentioned. If I believed in such things, I’d call us even! But perhaps we already are – you survived that sailing madhouse. That alone merits my gratitude.