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Character Name: Rosamund Alysworth
Character Age: 14
Birthday (including year): August 7th, 227
Current Location: Porthaeron, Caelain
House [Birth and Marriage if applicable]: Alysworth
Player Base: Sophie Turner (GoT)
Personality: Rosamund is a pleasant enough young woman, if one given over to spots of daydreaming and distraction. She tends to always see the good in people, a trait often viewed as naive, and which could quite possibly lead to her being taken advantage of by others. She doesn't seem to believe that anyone could truly be 'evil,' and is willing to give anyone a chance. There are those who might claim she is gullible, easy to manipulate and so forth, but either she does not realise this, or simply takes it in her stride. Given her whimsical nature, it is very much more likely the former.
She adores her family, and would never wish a one of them harm. Fortunate enough to have been raised within a loving environs, she has always been shown a certain degree of care. She has led a fairly sheltered life, safe from the heat of rage or the bitterness of disappointment, but this in itself has perhaps softened her to a degree.
She has shown some skill at singing, dancing, embroidery and other feminine pursuits, and enjoys performing with her elder sister, Aimiliana, whenever she is presented with the chance. She does not possess as natural a skill as her sibling, but she tries her best, and does decently enough as a result.
Rosamund loves stories, and whenever she is not stuck with her nose in a book, or with her mind entangled within thoughts of fancy, she can often be found scribing her own imaginings; written words, and drawings as well. She particularly enjoys tales of heroism and chivalry, and dreams of being swept off her feet by some knight on a fancy white horse. This is perhaps, however, incredibly wishful thinking.
History: Rosamund is the second youngest of Lydon Alysworth and Elisabeth Fitzwulf's six children. Born within the heat of summer, she was never quite so feisty as she was imaginative and given to easy distractions. Even though she had been blessed with a number of siblings before her, Rosamund always seemed content to spend time alone, lost within worlds of her own darling creation. She would sometimes disappear for hours at a time, causing no small amount of worry until it was discovered that she tended to use the same few spaces for her hideaways.
As the years passed, she lost herself in seclusion and acts of whimsy only the slightest bit less. She enjoyed being around others, but at the same time delighted in her own imaginings. This went on until tragedy struck, with the onset of Torpis Morbi.
When the plague came to Caelain, Rosamund responded with no small amount of denial. People dying, and so close to home? But how could that possibly be? There was nothing that had particularly troubled her in life, and it all seemed so distant, so far away and vague. It was only when her grandmother and one uncle succumbed to the disease that she was finally forced to open her eyes. She didn't care to think about anyone in her family suffering, and when they finally passed it was like a leaden blow. She was upset, perhaps even distraught, with a feeling of emptiness instead which she could not quite understand. Why had they had to die? Why now? She'd believed everyone she knew to be invincible.
The gravity of mourning stayed with her for some time, as was natural, until once again she fell back into her old self. Now fourteen, she has set her mind once more onto dashing princes and magical kingdoms. It hardly helps that the new King of Forsilvra is of an age with her, and highly eligible, for all that she is only the daughter of a banner.
Rosamund was out in one of her favourite places in the gardens, enjoying the gorgeous weather, the warm rays of sunlight as they kissed her delicate wan skin. She swished her dress around her as she walked, humming tunefully, a smile painted exquisitely upon her face. What better way could there have been than to spend a day like this? For the moment, at least, Rosumand could think of none.
Holding out one hand as she moved, graceful atop the path of stone, she imagined herself to be escorted by a handsome lord, one who no doubt wanted to whisk her away, to pour out his undying love.
With a pause, she withdrew her hand, elegantly covering a portion of her mouth as though quite pleasantly surprised.
"What's that? You wish to dance with me? Oh, my lord, I would be delighted to!" And so they danced, crossing the gardens in splendour, Rosamund resuming the trill of her tune all the while. This might not have been reality, but it was appealing to her nonetheless, and she could easily continue on this way for quite some time.
[Time Line Events]
Year 227: Rosamund Alysworth is born.
Year 234: Garek Alysworth is born.
Year 235: Plague sweeps Caelain, Aderyn Alysworth dies
Year 236: Theobald Alysworth dies of plague
- Idabel Alysworth de Valle
- Lydon Alysworth -- Elisabeth Fitzwulf
;- Vesper Alysworth Landalis
;- Rosamund Alysworth
;- Garek Alysworth
- Annalisa Alysworth Faerald
- Hadwyn Alysworth--Wife
;- Haldis Alysworth
;- Riobart Alysworth
;- Odo Alysworth
- Ada Alysworth
;- Leola Alysworth
;- Lena Alysworth
Last edited by Collette; 10-21-2011 at 01:11 PM.
The Flying Dutchman
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