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Author Topic: Erisian Mayboya.  (Read 1722 times)

Description: Priestess Queen. Red to Black. Played by Petrichor.

Offline Erisian Maboya

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    • goddesses don't speak in whispers they scream

Erisian Mayboya.
« on: May 09, 17, 10:40:33 PM »
The Basics

Character Name: Erisian Maboya
Nicknames: Eris, Lady Mad or The Mad Queen (derogatory).
Age: 66, DOB - 121 AP.  Approximately early twenties.
Race: Long Lived. 1/2 Eyrien / 1/2 Shaladorian.
Caste: Priestess Queen
Birth Territory: Shalador, Terreille
Home Territory: Shalador, Terreille

Birthright Jewel: Cut Red
Offering Jewel: Uncut Black

Play By: Cassie Ventura
Distinguishing Features: 

Erisian stands at a modest height of five feet six inches. With wings tucked tight to her back easily fades in to a crowd amongst her people.  This is easily explained by the many natural aesthetic similarities between Eyriens and Shaladorians.  Her eyes are a golden-green like leaves washed in spring sunlight, a bright testament to her mixed heritage.

Pruul's salt mines changed Erisian’s mind most of all but its toll’s left stories on her skin.  Wings once glorious and proud remain, fully functional but visibly damaged.

She has a series of scars from wounds ranging the span of minor to major injury across her hands, back and legs. In the years since she has returned to Shalador the best Healer's have seen to it that these have faded significantly over the seasons but some will always remain.



Her mind and body were nearly broken at her capture.   Hateful webs cut her wings and strangled her psyche in terrifying visions. On the long journey from the Tamanara mountains to Pruul they took root. Her chalice was left riddled with cracks and bits of devious web stuck in the spaces between. Though Karlissa, a Black Widow of Ebon Gray depth, did what she could, the webs changed Erisian's mind for good and left her chalice held together by faith, craft, and the tenacity that’d see the Priestess Queen survive more than half a century without sun or sky.

Erisian has always slipped comfortably into roles of power and authority. The confidence in leadership she has as a Queen is ever bolstered by the spiritual security and secrets known only to Priestesses she carries in her heart.  She is extremely proud of the rights and duties provided her by her castes.  Witches and men who are graced with the gifts or more than one caste are not one thing and another. 

Those blessed twice, or even three times, merge together their strengths, gifts, and weaknesses to create a unique creature. At times, and more often than not since her introduction to the brutalities of salt mine life, Eris can be downright confrontational about her beliefs, and the outcomes are not always positive for the Priestess Queen.

The mines stripped away the niceties and graces she worked hard to learn as a girl.  Only protocol and blood law wound tight about and through her soul remain. Hardly an echo of the charming, smooth masked thing Rian wanted her to be is left. The core of the Old Laws and Ancient Truths survied the Priestess Queen’s imprisonment, softer matters and truths did not. The mines forced the girl to rely primarily on her instincts as a Queen and a Priestess to survive. There was little room for the niceties of civilization between staying alive and getting enough gruel to get by. 

Lady Maboya, no longer quite so Mad, has been free of the mines for more than half a decade. Despite much recovery and many lessons the witch still favors her heart’s want to reason’s logical course. After a number of incidents the once-feral Priestess Queen’s learned to temper her drastic impulses for matters politic. It scrapes at her pride to allow herself and her people to be bested for greater future gains but in her earliest days out of the mines Erisian learned the hard way the prices her way of handling things could incur. Usually when she knows her gut instinct is drastic or harsh the Priestess Queen reaches out to her inner circle, those bonded to her as Gifts by the Darkness, to serve as her wisdom.

Erisian has shown time and again a quick willingness to delegate when her own gifts falter. There are many things she could practice until her death and not master to the same degree others were born with. It is in this way that she most often bonds with her court, particularly her men. There’s few matters of physical threat save for during her moontime that she is not better equipped to handle with ease and minimal risk than them. The Priestess Queen makes sure her court knows purpose in her service by calling on them when their strengths in a matter outstrip her own.

What purpose serves a court if not to be its Queen’s will when her own alone can’t do? Even Witch had a court. For Erisian, there is too much in Mother Night's infinitely complex world to bother trying to have, or be, it all.. Her quick mind has always been intellectual in pursuit of her passions. Upon returning to Shalador Eris began again the formal training most finish before they complete their offering. As an adult who’s seen much, Erisian makes a greater effort to study diligently even those things which bore her or don’t come to her with ease.

As a child the Priestess Queen was captivated by imagination and as an adult the same holds true. Imagination and fantasy helped keep her whole in the mines.  Intricate feats of craft were a passion of hers before Pruul and in the years after she has begun finding it again. Beneath years of trauma followed by a hard won fight for recovery that clever, imaginative person still exists. The spark of ingenuity burns bright in the Black Jewelled Queen. It’s a streak most often, if not exclusively, shown in the craft she weaves. 


  • Fighting. Since she was a child Erisian has loved the thrill of a good row.  Be it a heated verbal debate, a trial of wits, full blown fisticuffs and more she has always adored the rush of her will and force clashing with others. More so she loves to win.  Very little is ever “over” for Eris. It's one of her great strengths but also a weight about her neck. She is a relentless opponent who hates the taste of surrender second only to the bitterness of defeat. Though it is not a trait that wins the Queen many friends it is one which without she would not have survived her time in the mine.   

  • Drumming. The beat of a fine drum has always resonated deeply within Erisian's being. She took to learning them before she was even tall enough to play one of the large standing drums used in so many Shaladorian traditions.  Erisian favours rituals which use rhythm as a focus for power.  Within the mine it's one of the few pleasures the Priestess Queen is able to find for herself.  In the monotonous, soul crushing paces of her day to day life she works the earth in time with some of her favourite Shaladorian dance songs.  The beat helps her remember to keep going even when her muscles long to quit.

  • The Old Tongue. The Priestess Queen's intuitive intellect is captivated by the study of the tongue rumoured to have been spoken by the long lost dragons themselves.  Rarely did the Queen enjoy being still as a girl, and one of those times was when she studied the ancient language. She memorized countless passages and translations which spoke to her.  Before being kidnapped Erisian had a moderate grasp of the Old Tongue and it's many quirks and rules, but passing is a far way from fluent.  Still, what she does remember comforts her particularly the prayers and rituals she believed are strengthened by use of the language they were originally written for.   


  • Disrespect. You can strip away a person's sanity, health, and hope, but there are things no suffering or magic can erase. Draped in rich gold or covered in dirt with skin cracked and bleeding Erisian is a Priestess Queen.  She feels the pulse of the land and the strength of the darkness woven through earth and people alike. What's more is she feels compelled to lead and dominate. When she is not shown any respect or consideration for her rank and her jewels, Erisian’s temper rises to the surface.

    It’s not that Lady Maboya flies into a fit of anger if someone doesn’t recognize her or her family’s station. To Erisian disrespect, the kind that matters and sets her on edge, is when someone suggests the duties made hers by birthright could be done by anyone. The castes she holds, Queen and Priestess, are both widely known but often misunderstood.  She is made uncomfortable or even angry when what she knows as well as her own soul is disrespected by someone not fond of the Blood’s religion or its Queens.

    This distaste extends to those around her. Erisian believes that everyone is deserving of certain decencies and bits of respect. She is made furious when people around her are treated as less than they are. Everyone, Landen to multi-casted Queen, was born with a purpose in Mother Night’s plan.

  • Extended Study. Though a smart girl Erisian was always interested in fields of learning that involved working out her body as well as her mind. She enjoyed things like music, dance, and many active sports but her teachers found it difficult to make her focus on more stationary fields of knowledge.  Long bouts of stillness and study outside of her selected interests and passions were the dredge of her upbringin.  The Priestess Queen's inattentiveness was often a point of contention between the sisters.

    While decades in the mines changed much about Erisian, she dislikes studious stillness as much as she ever did. The only difference is that now the Priestess Queen is willing to endure short bouts of it in the name of what is good for Shalador and her Tribe. It’s still difficult for the Lady to focus on those bits of study in which she’s never grasped intuitively. While she’s done the work since returning to Shalador it tends to take Erisian far longer to learn those things in which she has no natural knack. When she does pay them study it’s a frustrating process that involves much stopping, starting over, and angry cursing. It’s best to avoid the elder Maboya Queen when she is focusing her attention on subjects in which she experiences difficulty.

  • Sudden sound, touch, or change. Erisian startles easily and she hates it. She’s ever ready for a threat, even when she’s safe and sound asleep. Trauma and decades of violence have made the witch’s instincts all too ready to catch any sign that such trouble could be coming for her again. A sudden noise or intrusion can take her from lounging and relaxed to on her feet, snarling, and reaching for the depth of her Black in the blink of an eye. It is in this way, but not only this way, that the Priestess Queen is closer to the beast of her soul than others.

    Protocol and Blood Law exist not just to protect Landens but to protect the Blood from each other. Often these are the only things that can pull Lady Maboya back from the edge of one these panic attacks.   While on occasion this instinct has proven advantageous it is most often cause for slight embarrassment on Erisian’s part. For every intruder,her hyper alert senses have caught, she has been set off exponentially more times by the accidental dropping of a class or the slamming of a door due to wind.


  • Not Being Fit to Rule. No fool, Erisian is well aware of the toll her time in the mines has taken on her. Though she’s gone through a lot of recovery and spent much time beneath the attention of Black Widows, Erisian doesn't see a woman fit to rule her own meal selection, let alone a territory.  She clings to protocol in the hope that it's spirit and rules will keep her together even when the past’s demons make her want to give up. Time has done much to make it seem as if this fear or inadequacy is unfounded.

    However, memories of the mines and who she had to be to survive them are rarely far from her mind. The Lady’s life is filled with reminders of who she used to be and opportunities that show the Priestess Queen just how far from that girl full of promise she’s grown. Where she was once youthful and cocky Eris is angry and fearful. Who was she then to think herself ready for ruling on a Territory-wide scale? Who is she now that the people would want her even if she did in time grow ready for the challenge?

    Lady Maboya’s castes combined with her insecurity of character and her carefully fought for sanity make her anxious that she will never be up to the tasks placed on her by caste and jewel. It’s likely that this fear will sit with Eris for the rest of her life. She has seen and done things in order to survive that leave her with a deep well of shame and insecurity from which this fear feeds and grows.

  • Becoming Complacent.  When someone has a great fear, it weaves in to every part of their being.  It becomes the noose by which they dangle. Should their posture slip it will hang them where they stand. Erisian survives by the virtue of those few who have tied themselves in the mines but largely – she is her strongest and most important guard against the horrors of a once broken mind still haunted by decades of demons. Since returning home, Erisian’s fear of complacency has matured with her circumstances instead of vanishing. Lady Maboya shuns many of the comforts available to her due to her station and her tribe’s wealth. There was an urgency in the mines, a need to be strong and more, that she misses at times in the comparatively cushy world of Shalador’s jungle.

    For Erisian complacent is a word that is nigh synonymous with vulnerability. Quick as she it to reach out to her court when her skills fail her Eris is not so fast to reach out when the troubles she is having come from within. The witch feels a sense of urgency and a need to take care of herself by herself. For so many years beneath the sand counting on anyone, even Akan, was a way for her to be hurt or used. Though her circumstances have changed this conditioning seems stuck and wired through Lady Mad’s being. For better and for worse she seeks challenge, discomfort, and solitude as means to guard against any weakness that may try and take harbor in her soul.

  • Losing Her Hard Won Sanity. In the same way that she is unable to enjoy comfort, Lady Maboya has little  trust in the stability and distance the years have helped place between her and the Twisted Kingdom.  She is, for all intents and purposes, as “better,” as she is ever going to get.

    Fifty years is a long time to endure something and more than long enough to leave a permanent mark not even an Ebon Grey Black Widow can unmake. While Erisian is much better than she was in the early days of her return to Shalador, the witch is very aware that her “well,” is much closer to the Twisted Kingdom than anyone not a Black Widow should be. There are things she sees and whispers she hears that aren’t exactly there. Over time Eris has learned to ignore the call of these figments but there are late nights and turbulent dreams that make it difficult.

    Her mind has survived much and is different and strange because of it. While those Healers and Sisters of the Coven who have overseen her recovery are comfortable with the state of the Priestess Queen’s chalice it’s just not something she’s likely to trust. Eris still experiences flights of panic and bouts of restlessness and irritability that while normal for someone with her trauma feel to the witch like sure signs she could lose what stability she has all too easily.

    Craft Strengths:
  • Intricate Craft. Craft was always one of Erisian's passion pursuits. From the day she received her Red jewel she experimented with wild abandon. The Lady Maboya has a knack for taking the principles she learns to the next level. The Priestess Queen is particularly adept at intricate works of craft meant to combine her gifts as a Priestess and a Queen. This knack extends into rituals meant to link those of different castes and disparate Jewel strengths, a talent not many Priestesses master.

    The Lady Maboya can have difficulty mustering the discipline to learn a new spell or subject of Craft but once she has overcome this considerable hurdle? The witch is capable of complex uses of craft only a woman of her castes and power could replicate.

    What’s impressive about this gift is that, the deeper a jewel, the more difficult many jeweled individuals find executing feats of precision and control.  Her early days in Shalador were full of incidents caused due to Erisian getting practice with the Black jewel from which she’d been largely cut off since her offering but the Priestess Queen rarely made, or makes, the same mistake with her Craft twice. Six years is no small amount of time to really practice at a thing and in her years back within the Forest, Erisian has grown adept at using her Black Jewel for tasks great, small, complex and simple alike.

  • Connecting With The Darkness.  Erisian has always felt Mother Night as a real presence in her life. The Priestess Queen has a knack for knowing things because of this connection. The psychic intuition all Blood can use to sense the strength and jewels of those around them is heightened to a sense all its own for Eris. Likewise she experiences significantly fewer accidents of power than others dark of jewel and deep of temper do.
    In the mines, far from her home, people, and mind Erisian thought she’d lost this special link to the Mother of all Blood. Instead, as she worked on becoming well in body and mind, she discovered that it had never left but was just buried under her pain. Her reservoirs of power refill at a steady and surprising pace without need for communion. When she does descend to this special rite of Craft known only by Priestesses as Communion, Lady Maboya is invigorated.

    Since returning home Eris’s studies have shown that this gift of her likewise allows her to help others refill their jewel’s resevoirs and, with consent and great focus, even pull from their power to help fuel and bolster her own. This craft strength touches all the magic Erisian does and much of who she is and because of this she has found ways of expressing this magic in ritual, in giving to the land, and even in the Queen’s touch.

    Craft Weaknesses:

  • Social Craft. Despite much fighting and coercion, Rian was never able to spark an interest for the subtle social arts in the Priestess Queen.  Erisian not only had a solid lack of interest in the discipline,  she disagreed with it on an ethical level. As an adult even after how jaded she became in her years beneath the sand in the salt, Eris still holds ethical distaste for the craft.

    A ruler should do so because it is their right and their gift not because they're backed by clever tricks. A Priestess should move the people with the force and passion she uses to convey Mother Night’s trust and gifts. Since returning to Shalador and her studies the Lady has rediscovered her distaste for this Craft and has dug her heels in about it. Lady Maboya is heedless of the fact that the magic contained within this craft’s secrets could help her overcome many of the social difficulties she’s had since being freed. Wrong is wrong, and when Eris has decided something is wrong that’s it, as far as she’s concerned her thoughts on the subject may as well be moral law.

  • Communicative Craft.  Mother Night gave her a mouth for a reason, as well as Erisian can see it.  As far as she figures, she is a dark jewelled witch of two castes, as a Priestess and a Queen her word is nothing to be ashamed of.  The world would be a better place in Erisian's opinion if more people were unabashedly honest, even when it was hard.  She feels stealthy forms of craft communication as a crutch, and rude.  Erisian can use simple distaff to spear threads as well as distaff to distaff lines but any form of complex communicative craft evades her.

    With the psychic communication she is capable of? Lady Maboya is unskilled with subtlety. Her voice echoes in the minds of those with whom she connects and it reverberates with the essence of the Black. The sensation while not painful is far from comfortable. When she initiates this contact, it’s easy for anyone who’d like to listen. Initiating psychic contact with the Priestess Queen is the only way to insure the conversation’s privacy and even then while not painful it isn’t exactly comfortable. The aspect of physical discomfort lessens the closer in jewel rank one is to Erisian but can still be unpleasant when the Lady is in a state of heightened emotion. 

    Life Story

    Mother: Marisol Maboya, Tiger Eye Jeweled Witch. [Deceased].
    Father: Adar (Iskandar) Maboya, Green to Red Jeweled Warlord Prince [Not Serving in Either of his Daughter's Courts, Outside of the Storyline until someone petitions/adopts him.]
    Siblings: Rian (Iskandar) Maboya, Green to Gray Jeweled Priestess, Shaladorian Territory Ruler. [DECEASED]
    *Children:  Daughter. Anamelech Sayyadina Purple Dusk Jeweled Priestess.
    Son. Iztali Sayyadina. Opal to Red Jeweled Warlord Prince.
    *Erisian’s Children are the products of magic, manipulation, and potent brews. More than once while she was in the mines she was subjected to long bouts of solitary confinement. It was during two of these that the witch was made to have and carry children of her own. However, rape was never a part of the process. While Lady Maboya was violated in a variety of ways during her time in Pruul, that is not one of the ways in which it was accomplished.


       For Erisian life ended  at 15, but she was soon reborn in to a Hell like existence beneath baking Pruulian sands. Rian, High Priestess and Ruler of Shalador, Eldest Sister to the Priestess Queen had damned her from the moment she walked away from her Birthright Ceremony wearing the Red.

       She was stolen atop a high plateau in the Tamnara mountains just skirting the edge of the Shaladorian/Eyrien border. Accompanied by her Red Jewelled Master of the Guard Akan she was training for the Blood Run which she intended to fly as a part of her upcoming diplomatic visit to Askavi during the Winsol season.  Three days the vacation she'd been so looking forward too lasted, three days of grace before catastrophe turned the winds of her life forever by tossing her in the heart of a tireless storm.

       Afternoon rose hot along with the summer sun.  Priestess Queen and Warlord Prince settled in for a mid day meal to revive their hard worked bodies and take shelter from the most stifling part of the day. It was as they rested beneath double red shields after taking their fill that they were attacked. Six wingless assailants came upon them after a surprise burst of combined dark jewelled power slammed through their shields and set them prone.

       Neither Shaladorian was stunned for long. They jumped in to action with vicious grace.  Outnumbered three to one Akan and Erisian fought hard and dirty.  It was the Lady's first real battle and she fell to the blood lust of her caste for what would be far from the last time that day.  Were she more experienced a warrior perhaps things might have gone differently but there is a reason that Queens are kept off the battlefield.  Instinct took control of Erisian and gave the young witch the strength to finish her first kill.  Instinct also told her when cornered and backed away against a rock wall by wingless assailants that the answer was clear, flight and swooping dive attacks.  Had her intellect not been muddled she may have recognized that Akan was not doing this, and for a reason.  Her base nature told her that one of her court was in danger, and her every urge drove her to assure his safety at all costs.

       Driven by strong legs enhanced with the power of her Red, Erisian shot up high intending to come down with enough force to crush the necks of two of the illusion covered attackers at once.  Up she soared but her climb was halted by a clever trap, a nasty widows web that tangled and tore at Erisian's shields and ensnared her body and mind.  She fell in a rain of pained screams and blood, thrashing like a wounded predator.  When she landed it was in silence, the nasty magics woven by a power much darker than her own red slicing up her wings and subduing her mind.  Erisian wouldn't wake up until almost a week later.  She was fevered, crazed, injured, soiled, sweaty and hot in the back of a caravan travelling through the psychic wind barren deserts of Pruul when she came too. Baptized in her own blood and fluids that was the day the Lady Mad was born and the girl she had been was lost forever.

       Their journey to the mine where they were to be held lasted another two weeks, bound respectively by collar and ring Erisian and Akan suffered in the back of a stifling caravan.  The first week, which the Lady fitfully slumbered through, Akan devoted to coming up with a plan.  Too quickly the Warlord Prince was able to assess the hopelessness of their plight, and as he watched his Queen sleep he realized the delicate state her mind would be in when she woke.  His training as a fighter had allowed him some medium of experience with field triage medicine and as Erisian battled the demons of her slumber he worked to heal what he could without compromising her wings or mind.  All Akan had during those long, uncomfortable days and nights was the hope that when they reached their destination someone might be able to save her.

       When they finally arrived at their destination Erisian's chalice was severely damaged it rested at a precipice where the slightest amount of pressure applied to just the right trigger could have sent the Priestess Queen tumbling forever towards the endless siren song of the Twisted Kingdom.

       Carrying Erisian, sleeping once more courtesy of a harsh blow from one of their captors sick of her mad ravings, Akan moved through the caverns of the mines, poked and prodded by the guards given possession of their control devices he moved to the pit where they'd be left to sleep and eat what meager offerings they could garner of either.  The Warlord Prince, when left to his own devices  moved to try and find assistance for his Queen who still required physical healing and seemed unable to break through the wicked web tangled about her inner barriers with her own Red jewelled power.

       “You don't need to look far,” a tired and amused voice rang out from the shadows. Akan bristled at the speaker until the dark skinned, golden eyed Hayllian explained herself.  She stood with a middle-aged Healer who wore a red jewel, glistening at her breast a beacon of hope too welcome to the Warlord Prince after so many long days and nights of nothing but hardship and worry.  It wasn't until the woman, who identified herself as Karlissa and her Pruulian companion as Daya, stepped more in to the light that Akan got a true whiff of her psychic scent just as his eyes landed on the too telling Ebon Gray hung from the  black widow's throat.   

       She told him of visions of a sister not borne of blood her own who would come to their dark place and extinguish in madness without hard work and care on both body and mind.  Karlissa did not bother sharing with Akan the trouble that they may be too late to save even one, let alone both those things.  The old warrior could see it on her face, and deft as she was in her caste's gifts the Ebon Gray Lady knew further words need not be spoken.  It was time to weave webs and break vicious threads.  Time to mend and time to cut away what couldn't be saved.

       They began their work late at night, when the fewest guards were about.  Karlissa, who had been dreaming of Erisian's arrival for months, had worked with her few friends and allies to pay off the overnight guards to allow them access to their jewels for twelve hours uninterrupted. This kept the women hidden from the morning and afternoon watch in order to finish their task.

       Against every prediction made by Akan and Karlissa, Daya was able to save Erisian's wings, in spite of never having treated any person of Eyrien background in the past.  The Red Jewelled Healer was talented beyond her years, and dangerous.  She was imprisoned beneath the sand for the murder of a Prince who tried to cheat her family.  The  damage done to the girl's wings by the web which had ensnared her so completely would never be fully healed.  Her wings worked, but they were scarred and not a day has passed since that the Lady Mad isn't pained by their movements. Making sure Erisian kept the wings which were a part of her soul as much as her body was Daya's last great work. 

       The Healer wasn't the only one with designs on what little bits of spare time Erisian had beneath the ever-worked earth.  Both Akan and Karlissa worked the dual casted witches mind in order to keep her together. 

       To a warrior, any situation can eventually be broken down and mapped out as if it were a battlefield with enemies and obstacles alike to conquer. In order to survive Akan knew that they had to forget who they were and focus only on the present.  Their life was the mines, dark, and salt.  In order to get too and through tomorrow that was the way it had to be.  Tomorrow forever belonged to hope and their present always belonged to survival. More today's have gotten people home or dead than any tomorrow ever has. Akan understood and taught this to Erisian as if she were one of his men to command. There's no room for crying or weakness in a soldier's heart and for Erisian there could be no time to indulge in her madness lest she forget about her present and subsequently let loose her impassioned, pained grip on reality.

       Lady D'Maris' education was more therapeutic in nature. She engaged her young sister's mind and taught her what she could given their many restraints.  Without Karlissa the Priestess Queen's skill with craft may have withered and atrophied.  Instead she learned many a trick to aid in her work beneath the earth, and to hold on to her fractured chalice in spite of the calls from across the Twisted Kingdom's borders beckoning a descent to its depths. When pulling away the webs of the Widow's spell that had ensnared Erisian, Karlissa had been unable to free her Lady of the threads bound and tangled amongst her inner barriers.  All who knew and cared for Eris in the sands were aware that should the Queen not descend far enough to break free of the webs with her own power that she would never be rid the curse of the hourglass.

       At fifteen, it would be years before the Priestess Queen would be ready to make the descent.  Without Karlissa's aid and training the Lady would never have made it to the fateful night where she would make her Offering. The Ebon Gray jewelled Black Widow worked her Queen's mind in a way that strengthened it against the internal pressures threatening to reduce her damaged chalice to nothing but dust. In order to assist in Erisian's continued learning in spite of their conditions, Karlissa went through great effort to teach the Priestess Queen some of the remedial gifts of her caste which served to help keep the Lady present and aware in spite of the madness that called to her.  The dark jewelled witch of the hourglass also taught Erisian one of her dearest tricks of craft, her ability to store books in woven memory to be played back later.  It was because of this ingenious stroke of magic pioneered and fine tuned by the Hayllian Black Widow that Karlissa was able to learn at all in the mines.  At times while her body worked, her mind studied new facts.  Important lessons for a Queen.

       Erisian's own skill with intricate feats of magic allowed her to further tailor some of Karlissa's teachings in to an invention of craft all her own. The Priestess Queen learned to weave rudimentary webs within her imagination to create vivid mindscapes in which she could retreat for hours, her mind and body working together but disconnected. This talent of the Shaladorian Halfbreed witch only  evolved over her years in the salt; it's a boon and a curse for it allows Eris some measure of peace and yet it pulls her away from a world she already relates too poorly.

       Her last years as a child were her first years in the salt mines, all too quickly the sand and the wind wore away at who she was and left faults where once there were none. The wilful, rambunctious , adventure loving girl of the forest changed under the pressure of the earth.  Much like coal to a diamond the transformation has made her unrecognizable from who she was back home in Shalador.

       Before the fateful day of her capture the Priestess Queen, Lady Erisian Maboya, lead a charmed existence.  Though her mother died giving birth during a complicated C-section she never wanted for a guide in life as her far elder sister stepped gracefully in to a maternal position for the twice gifted witch. In the Cassiar district of the Elaho province she grew up. Born in to of one of the great fifteen tribes, the Maboyas, her mother's tribe – the same family that had adopted her father and elder sister in the years of Askavi's horrible war, she was praised from the time her castes became apparent.  Sister to the great High Priestess, a Priestess and Queen herself there was a time in Shalador where everyone heard tell of Rian Maboya's Priestess Queen sister, gifted with the Red as her birthright.  There are those who still mourn, but this is not their story.

       By thirteen she had become a  wilful, rambunctious girl with her own opinions on everything, particularly where Rian's lessons were concerned. She had an informal court around her, fame, and the best teacher she believed she could ever have in the Gray Priestess. Erisian's interest in deviating from accepted cultural and ritualistic traditions and rules was a great point of contention between the sisters.  Unbeknownst to the red jewelled witch it was this well of constant debate, which Erisian thrived on and often brought up, that helped to turn Rian's mind and paranoia against her . The Gray jewelled Priestess tried to curb her sister's attentions and opinions down a path she felt more comfortable with, but Erisian had little mind for extended tedious study.  However the younger girl seemed set on following instinct and intuition as opposed to the accepted traditions. Erisian lived for the spirit of the law and Rian it's letter, this conflict of interests also helped turn the Shalador's High Lady against her own Blood.

       These things and a pile of reasons and fears as imposing as the Tamnara Mountains' formed a conclusive picture in Rian's mind as to what needed to be done about the clear threat her junior sister posed to the world.  Though obviously not Witch, Erisian could one day wield the Black and the Queen's oft unpredictable nature made her unsafe for the world according to Rian.  Once the Gray Jewelled Priestess made her decision, Eris' fate was sealed and her days of freedom numbered.

       Attention to detail was paramount to Rian as she planned the breaking of her own heart; the dishonourable sacrifice of her sister and lover to preserve the safety of not just Shalador, but the very Realms was more important to the Gray Jewelled Priestess than her own blood. Her actions were treacherous and guided by a fear spoiled soul but her mind was more than capable, her design almost without flaw.

       Six men, neither Shaladorian nor Eyrien, were chosen by the Rian from the ranks of those destined to meet their demise upon the Territoriy's Blood Altars. Rian gave these men a choice, serve out their sentence and die cowards, or commit one heinous act to preserve their freedom, providing they survived. It took the spiritually devoted, and some would say blinded, Priestess longer than she suspected it would to find enough doomed men willing to condemn a Queen to a fate arguably worse than death. In the end she had her motley to do as she believed the Darkness saw fit to spare the land another purge or worse.

       Should these men survive the capture of a Red Jewelled Priestess Queen and her Warlord Prince first escort of the same descent as his Lady's birthright, Rian offered them freedom.  Mercy from Shalador's altars is granted to none.  Her offer was unprecedented and those who turned it down did so because they believed it too good to be true. These men were assisted and armed with obfuscation webs and vicious, potent tangled webs to use against their targets.  A dark jewelled male within the Blinded Vigil used his power at the beckoning of the Lady Rian.  He, the Lady, and a precious few others know the truth of what fate fell upon the shoulders of Erisian and Akan.  None who knew expected them to have survive, but survive they did. The same can not be said for the men who took them out, out of the six assailants, only two made the journey back to Shalador to take their freedom from Rian.

       Though Priestess Queen and Warlord Prince survived their ambush and incarceration it was not without significant adaptation on their parts.  Warrior and maiden alike underwent great changes mentally and in Erisian's case physically from their durance in the mines. The salt, they do say, gets in to everything.

       Life was a battlefield and they were Shaladorian. Dying on the land of another Territory, sacrificing their blood to a place not theirs for no glory and no greater purpose they could deduce was an option as close to damnation as they could imagine. Survival was difficult but not impossible the duo was resourceful in spite of their respective flaws and even in the corrupt prison of the mines there were those who couldn't turn a completely blind eye to the suffering of a dual casted Queen.
       While not widespread there were those guards who worked the mines and went home to their families after their shifts were done who couldn't fully turn a blind eye to the Priestess Queen in their midst.  Within Pruul that combination of castes is considered to be the Holiest of Holy.  Over the last fifty years there have been a handful of men brave enough to turn against the corruption of their employ and assist the Lady Maboya.  After the third one trying to help her escape was murdered, Erisian stopped trying to flee for the good of the people who cared for her. The Lady was controlled through the pain of those who served her.

       Even during her incarceration Erisian has always drawn men and women to service.  Through the fog of her madness she's still found her ways to interact with the world she wishes to flee, her tether to the land has been the people to come and go in her life in the mines whom have acted as an ever changing makeshift court over the past five decades. 

       There was a blessed triangle formed by those few who took pity on the Lady, combined with Akan's privileges as an overseer and Karlissa's education and assistance in preserving what remained of Eris' sanity.  Thanks to those supports, the Priestess Queen was able to keep her wings, albeit they remain a crippled, pained shadow of what they once were.  In exchange the blunt woman, in her own fractured way, offered spiritual solace, council, and order to those who have needed it.

       Two years Eris managed to hold on to the world through the torment of the webs that sliced and strangled her innermost barriers.  By seventeen Karlissa's work with the young halfbreed witch was no longer helping as it once did.  As new fractures began to spread across the Priestess Queen's chalice, Karlissa knew that Eris needed to break the webs from within and that to do so the Priestess Queen would need to make her descent.  The Black Widow, warned of the Lady's imminent peril by her own Mother Night guided dreams, worked on a plan with her Sister Queen and those few who had rallied around the Lady by that time to spirit Eris away for her Offering, no simple feat to accomplish in the salt.  All who cared had hoped the deed could be put off until at least nineteen, but the tangled web wrapped tightly around Erisian had too malicious a design for that. 

       Rian and her conspirator knew there was a chance, albeit a small one, that Erisian would even survive long enough in the mines to make it to the year of her Offering.  The web made to ensare her was meant to shatter her mind and jewels completely before her twentieth year so that she might never grow to become a threat, and Rian's conscience was able to remain technically clear of her own sister's murder.
       Obstacles were piled at the feet of Erisian and her court of cast offs and prisoners (some innocent but most guilty) before they could even consider how the Priestess Queen might make her descent in a final, fragile chance at saving her mind and jewels. The Lady Mad did very little for herself during this time.  She had to focus on her work, holding on to reality, and preparing her spirit for the journey of her Offering.  Back home weeks would have been dedicated to the preparation of her mind and body.  In the mines Eris only had a few minutes of meditation upon her rough mat before sleep took hold of her completely.  Needless to say there were many concerns about the safety of their plan for the girl and more than a few sharp words and harsh blows were thrown in the debate of it.  Never in front of their Queen of course, but she knew anyway.

       Most uncomfortable of the issues at hand was the matter of the Lady's virgin night.  It couldn't wait until after her descent. Darkness forbidding should she come away from the altar with the Gray or Ebon Gray there'd be no male within their trusted circle capable of safely guiding Eris through her virgin night.  Ultimately it was decided Akan would do the work, with the aid of one of Karlissa's webs offering the Lady extra stability and tranquillity to the foreign process with a man who was beloved to the girl...simply not in that way. Precautions had to be taken not just for the girl's, but for Akan's safety as well.  A threatened, wounded Queen is a terrifying force and already her short few years in the mines had drawn out her feral nature.  The decades following would only serve to sharpen those instincts.

       At the time their greatest hurdle was the matter of getting Erisian away for a day and a night.  Karlissa, happy to take a beating at the best and worst of times, thought nothing of weaving webs of illusion that could conceal one of their allies, Mara Zachai, a Yellow Jewelled Pruulian Queen wrongfully imprisoned by the machinations of a rival Black Widow in her tribe.  Lady Zachai was, besides Erisian, the only Queen within their mine at the time, and a part of Eris' patchwork court. At eighteen, her psychic scent matched the Shaladorian-Eyrien girl's pre offering signature and it was seen by Karlissa as a sign that their chosen course of action for the dual casted witch was guided by Mother Night's hand.

       Had they been able to avoid placing the short lived Queen in danger they would have but in spite of all combined efforts Karlissa had not been able to gather the supplies required to make a Shadow of Erisian which would suffice as a stand in while the Priestess Queen underwent her virgin night and performed the rites of her own Offering ceremony. The Ebon Gray webs of concealment and illusion woven by the Hayllian Black Widow were crafted with the greatest care and tethered to Mara through her most inner barriers.  No power existed within the mines capable of sensing, or seeing through the powerfully bound spells. Karlissa even observed Erisian's psychic scent as she created the Priestess portion of the webs so it would mesh with Mara's Queenly aura in a manner similar to the woman whose shoes she would be filling for a day and a night.

       After her virgin night, Erisian didn't have time to be pampered. The ordeal was made as nice as possible given the circumstances.  Akan was an experienced enough lover to know what buttons to push to ease the process along.  With her power no longer held in jeopardy by something as fickle as her in tact hymen, Eris dismissed Akan from her presence. Cloaked by the power of her Red she made her way through forgotten passages and salt-cleared tunnels  to the makeshift altar she had prepared for her coming of age since everyone agreed it was the best path for her to take.

       Held secret in her most private of concerns was the fear of how she might change or how she might remain the same when she walked away from her Offering. On her own a Priestess Queen beneath the sands, hidden from the infinite starry eyes of mother night she began her descent. Sunset's only call in the mines was the ringing of dinner bell's and shift change in the distance.  Normally Erisian worked the night shift.  Tonight the Lady Mara Zachai would toil in her stead after laboring all afternoon for her own shift. 

       Bent in prayer, stiff muscles crying out in revolt against the long stretch, she murmured thanks for her sister Queen.  Exhaling slowly she rose, stripped from her sweat stiffened tattered rags and indulged in a rare bath.  Granted it came from a bucket and a sponge, but the vessel was new and the sponge fresh.  Cleansed in body and anointed in hard won sacred oils she knelt before the hastily cobbled altar and began a carefully controlled descent to the red.

       Within the abyss time loses meaning and so as the world passed as it was won't to do around her, Erisian dawdled at the power granted to her as her right.  As minutes passed like hours for the Queen she explored the crimson veins of the web with new found appreciation.  She examined it as a girl looks at her childhood room when she's grown out of it in to grander things.  What most fail to understand is the longing of that stare, an ache for a time when that simple room was all they could ever hope for.

       Children can often imagine being many things, but they can not imagine away their innocence.  It's the loss of that precious gift that makes our once perfect world too small and the tools within it no longer suited to any of life's challenges.  As she lingered Eris felt the sad reality of her plight set in, she should have had many more years to play in the red.  There should have been ages left to  explore her nature and it's gifts but that luxury had been stolen two years earlier on a high plateau in the Tamnara mountains.

       Before anyone could fairly expect her to be ready, Lady Erisian Maboya made the decision to set away childish things.  One day she would return to the home she often retreated too in her mind.  Her blood would feed the earth of no land other than Shalador's.  Failure was not an option, and the fracture of her chalice would have constituted a loss great enough to destroy what hope remained.

       An admirable amount of resolve for one so fractured, tired and beaten bolstered Erisian as she closed her eyes and dove. Gliding through the abyss her heart fluttered in surprised as the red gave way beneath her like nothing more than a spider's web in the morning dew.  After a few moments  floating through the gray and testing out its strength she noticed that her wings felt no pain. 

       Too soon the Priestess Queen found herself at Ebon Gray's furthest precipice taking a few slow breaths Lady Mad fell forward, expecting to be caught and embraced by the web's threads.  Instead her body pressed on, pulled forward by a distant song on the wind.  Power rushed through and around her, more exhilarating than her most vivid memory of diving towards the ground at top speed only turning back to the sky at the last second.  Here she never had to turn back.

       Mouth filled with the taste of copper, Erisian woke to the feeling of an uncut, Black jewel grasped in her fist and the sounds of screaming, and running in the distance. Drunk on and taxed by the new power coursing through her blood the Priestess Queen fumbled to stand on trembling legs as a group of armed, Jewelled guards came barrelling down her no longer secret corridor.  Before she was gathered to her wits enough to even consider pushing the might of the Black outwards she was crippled by the pain of her collar of control being activated again and again.  Soon her own cries rang out with the other's, a macabre symphony echoing through the salt in the morning chill. Perhaps

       Lady Mara Zachai was the owner of the other pained voice.  When the guard's sensed Erisian's newfound strength they made for her.  First they came upon the Yellow Jewelled Queen in disguise.  Karlissa's webs eventually shattered after being pressed under heavy stress from the trauma being delivered to the Pruulian Queen's body and mind, so incensed was the guard delivering the punishing that upon unveiling of the prisoner's treachery beat her so broken she bled out on her cot that night.  In spite of all efforts, Mara was lost.

       Erisian, though greatly wounded, fared better than her sister Queen.  Everything had a price, and the Priestess Queen would forever know all too well the cost of her remaining sanity and Black jewel.  The tolls did not stop there, either.  After making her Offering, life grew far more lonely and secluded for the Shaladorian witch.  Her time was closely watched and regimented. Rarely was she even allowed contact with her fellow prisoners, forget about her informal court. 

       Yet, the creature that she was, things managed to happen around and too her anyway.  The Black is a beacon for trouble as much as it is power and even cut off from the power of her jewels Erisian still paid for their weight.  A reputation formed around the Lady, stories, rumours and outright tall tales wove together to form a cloak of superstition around the mines black jewelled Priestess Queen and as years turned to a decade, and decades in to a half century it's weave only thickened. 

       In terms of trouble, there has been much of it in both quantity and variety.  Eris would have more enemies, but few survive in the salt long enough to do anything with the grudges they carry. 

       Alone so often over the years, Erisian relied heavily on the bits of craft taught to her by Karlissa to keep her wounded psyche entertained.  Without the comfort of her court to keep her grounded Lady Mad often escaped through the use of her unique quirk of craft evolved from the Black Widow's lessons.  Though they saved her chalice all those years ago with her descent and Mara's sacrifice the years have beaten and chipped at her chalice leaving Lady Maboya forever trying to drown out the siren call of the Twisted Kingdom through whatever means she could muster.  Necessity is the mother of invention but that which comforts does not always heal.

       Fifty years is a long time and after it all Eris no longer believes she'll get out of the mines in tact.  Now she just prays she'll die on Shaladorian soil. Six decades and five years is hardly any kind of span at all for one of the long lived, even a half breed but even half that beneath the sands is a lifetime.

       Most recently the Priestess Queen and her court have been rocked by the loss of one of the group's eldest members.  Daya, the Red Jewelled Pruulian Healer who, along with Karlissa, saved Erisian's mind and wings when she arrived in the mines under the thrall of the wicked webs that had injured her so thoroughly,  passed away.  Old age, the most unfeeling of killers, got her after a lifetime of hardship could not.  Her death forced Erisian to take note of her unchanging misery and make the best out of an opportunity which was made clear to her after hearing one of Karlissa's dreams.

       The Ebon Gray jewelled Black Widow told Eris of a persistent dream that resonated with the power of a true-sent vision. Lady D'Maris slumbered and saw the sunrise as a cool wind free of biting sand kissed her skin.  Hope, traitorous and insistent in spite of the Shaladorian woman's many attempts to stamp out its cruel promise sprung within her breast and her attention shifted to one of the mine's guards.  She watched him for many months and never spoke a word.

       Roshan Karim was a Pruulian Warlord Prince who had roused his Queen's displeasure and earned a five year service working as a guard in the mines.  Everyone in the area knew the local mine had a collection of interesting prisoner's not all as guilty as their records stated and those who tried to speak up were bought out or otherwise silenced, the arrangement was quite a profitable one.  Everything changed for Roshan the day he realized the female prisoner kept strictly under watch not only wore the Black, but proudly wore the mantle of the Priestess Queen.  No holier combination of gifts existed within Pruul and from that day forward he moved to try and gain the Lady's trust, helping her and her's in what small ways he was able.

       Not a stupid man, Roshan steered away from large gestures or obvious favouritism, he was only good to his Lady so long as he was able to keep his job.  Eventually, having heard Karlissa's story so many times, Erisian broke down and spoke to him as he brought her a second serving of dinner to help her body regain strength instead of metabolizing itself for fuel.  She begged he send word to the Territory's ruler, she cried and strained as she made her pleas.  Concern for his own well being should the scandal be unearthed kept Roshan from seeking out the Territory's Grand Prince to put an end to it but he couldn't deny Erisian, not his Queen.  Word was sent and in the year 186 AP, Erisian Maboya and her Mad Court were freed from the mines.

       For six years Eris worked with her family, court, and supporters within Shalador to make something of herself that the Territory could be proud of. Then, in 191 AP – disaster struck when the Eldest Sister in Aztlan erupted. Lady Maboya and her court fearlessly marched towards the mountain of liquid flame and haven’t been seen since. 

       Most of them died that day, but not all, not Erisian. The Lady Mad and a fraction of her court live. Buried beneath rock and glass, wound tight in layers of craft wild and ancient, the Priestess Queen and her surviving bonded men and women stir.

       She and those who have survived the intense ritual magics Eris and the now departed Rian wove to stop the burning and save their people? They rest within a cave of rock and glass dark as Erisian’s Black Jewel. Come spring’s end they will wake and find that Shalador has once again transformed in their absence.
    Show Us What You've Got

    Writing Sample:

    Sunlight sweet and warm on her golden skin elicited  a sigh of pleasure from Erisian. The calming heat of a fire once its banked to nothing but embers twinkling and wavering through bleakest nights wrapped itself about her.  Were she by herself, the Priestess Queen would have thrown caution and garb to the wind allowing light and air to wash over her.  Standing high atop a plateau in the Tamnara mountains overlooking nothing but rock and sky she rhapsodized but it grew ever harder to ignore the nagging feeling that despite her apparent solitude she was not alone.

    Unease bloomed within her breast as on the horizon the sky suddenly reddened as if time had no meaning and sunset was upon her when seconds before high noon's radiance bathed the mountains. A ringing caught her ear in the distance and once noticed it was all the witch could do to concentrate over the incessant clanging.

    Her body crumpled as a sudden blow hit  between her shoulders, hot as witchfire with no end to its burn. She dropped on to the rock with boom that beat along with the drums.  Blood stained her landing as skin tore from her knees with a rip heard even over the invasive percussive thud echoing from nowhere in the mountains and in her mind.  Its origins were not clear.

    Witchblood sprung up in an instant, taking root first in severed flesh and then in to the very rock face. Fractures spread and flowers grew.  They puzzled her.  She had not died, she didn't even know what had hit her.

    Floundering the teenaged witch tried to fly as the earth collapsed below in a blood borne avalanche. Her wings had turned to nothing but rot and blistering ash.  Tamnara's highest peak fell beneath, around and atop her.  Nothing Eris did to save herself had any effect.  Her mind and body were not one.

    Screaming, the Priestess Queen was screaming but her lips didn't part as she was brought to her knees. 

    A violent crack with the lash across her ankle pulled Lady Mad back to the sand where nothing fell except for rocks and salt.  They'd kill just as much as any avalanche.  Sometimes when she vanished in to the elaborate dreamscapes she built within her more private barriers she got lost in the complexity of so many worlds.  Seductive as it was, the call of the Twisted Kingdom sometimes shifted the Priestess Queen's places around and about her - turning day dream in to waking terror. 

    Thirty years now she'd been in the mines, the guards were used to it.  She kept working.  Her tools continued beating stone, working in rhythm to an old Shaladorian war beat.  Erisian turned back to the echo of home she had built in her mind, keeping the brain active was important.

    Petitions (if any):

    Why did this character became inactive? Retirement due to serious health problems and instability in my living situation.

    What will you do to prevent this character from becoming inactive again? My health issues and housing issues have been stable for quite some time now. I’ll keep them that way, and if they falter, I’ll keep in contact with the board and purchase inactivity waivers if needed.

    What are your plans for this character? Erisian and her jewel and craft are going to become very important in maintaining stability within Shalador. I also intend to have her grow a court, and per Dani’s plot and suggestion, the Priestess Queen who has gone her whole life without ruling so much as a village is going to be given a Distrist and eventually a Province to call her own.

    In general I intend to have her clash with certain elements rising to power in Shalador as Erisian is something of a traditionalist. Furthermore, she will serve as a threat all too willing and ready to crush anything that encroaches on Shalador’s land or sovereignty.

    Lastly, I intend to have Erisian be forced to interact with Pruul and the remnants and legacy of her time spent in the mines particularly her children as well as those who bound to her in Pruul but did not leave with her and her Mad Court for their assorted reasons.

    Number of previous Reactivations: Jolie, Bianca, Renvar, Esteri, Kenna, Laurel.

    Changes Made to Application for Reactivation Process (if any) : I adjusted her personality, likes and dislikes to suit how she would be after six years in recovery and outside of the mines. Furthermore, I cut it down to three likes/dislikes/fears as the original application had more under each category. I also added a little bit of detail to the end of her history regarding where she has been and what she has been doing.

    I removed a craft strength that is no longer applicable. Erisian’s ability to weave landscapes in her mind was a bit of Black Widow craft the Priestess Queen was mistakenly caught. The dreams she wove, and abandoned time and again, when they went wrong? They contributed to her instability and so over the course of two years the Black Widows in charge of her psychic well-being slowly and methodically removed the knowledge and its evidence from her mind. This was always the intent and had I not needed to retire for a long period it would have played out organically. With so much time past that plot point no longer holds the relevance it once did and so I removed the strength as if “off screen,” all that work occurred. I replaced it with a craft strength more applicable to Erisian’s castes, Ritual Craft.

    I also added the two children she has that were plotted into existence after her acceptance to her “family,” section. However, no mention of their conception is made within the history particularly because this is a story that has always been meant to explore in game. Detailing it in history more than I have in the family section would defeat its purpose.

    Here is a link to Erisian's original sheet:

    Player Name: Petri

Offline Erisian Maboya

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Re: Erisian Mayboya.
« Reply #1 on: May 10, 17, 02:41:43 AM »
Erisian is ready for reactivation.

Offline phinneas

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Re: Erisian Mayboya.
« Reply #2 on: May 10, 17, 08:44:52 AM »  •  Discord: phinn#0798  •  Writer Tracker

Offline phinneas

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Re: Erisian Mayboya.
« Reply #3 on: Jan 03, 19, 08:53:25 PM »
This character has been marked as Inactive

For more information please see this thread: The Inactivity Policy

If you would like to reactivate this character they will need to be submitted through the Keep's Registry again as a petitioned character using the Reactivation Petition.  •  Discord: phinn#0798  •  Writer Tracker