Character Application:Liliwen Gwyn

[Lydia Sinclaire]

Do you have any prior experience with Requiem? If so, please detail when (and what characters, if desired) you previously played?

No


How did you hear about Requiem?

Requiem was mentioned by the owner of a different private shard.


CHARACTER QUESTIONS:

What will your character’s name be?

Liliwen Gwyn


Please briefly describe the physical attributes of your character, including age, looks, height, weight and any notable features:

Liliwen Gwyn is in her early thirties, standing shorter than your typical Yult woman. She is slightly muscular, retaining some of the strength of her former days in the Apothecary Corps helping to move the wounded, sick, and dying. She carries herself in a rather slouched and dispassionate manner, some great burden weighing down her posture, bowing her head to the trials and traumas of the world.

Liliwen's wide green eyes peer intently from beneath an unkempt thicket of coarse, black hair, hiding a rather plain if not filthy and careworn face. The hair spills downward past her neck, which is adorned with a pendant in the shape of a small chalice. Once the dull gray of forged iron, it is discolored by rust and blood. More striking is the wide, angry, purple scar across her throat, spanning the width of her neck. Her attire is travel-stained, dull brown and worn cloth robes flecked with darker patches of dirt and mud. A tattered hood adorns Lilwen's head, accentuating her intense green orbs as she retreats into the shadows of her hood. Most distinctive is Liliwen's voice, little more than a ghostly rasp, a rattling, subdued whisper interspersed with the occasional ragged breaths


Please provide a few short paragraphs with pertinent details or notable qualities of your character’s history. This does not have to be exhaustive nor revealing of any information you wish to keep secret:

<Your answer Here>
The 233rd Apothecary Core. Where Liliwen Gwyn's journey as a hopeful, humble Aspirant turned became a burgeoning career as an honored Apothecary, treating the wounds of those who fed the relentless, chewing maw of the reclamation efforts within the First Province. While Liliwen was successful in tending to the physical pains of her fellow beings, their mental anguish disturbed her. The trauma of her patients drove her to seek out higher knowledge in the science of psychology and the application of allopathy to quell the mental anguish and physical exhaustion of those she gave aid to. She moved from the 233rd to the 701st as requested and approved of by her glowing superiors, who were quick to praise her efforts and success in the field as a venerated healer.

Liliwen was a renowned singer among her peers, a bard who would sing songs of hope for humanity, and sorrow for those who had gone before. After a long and bloody day of work, she would often spend her time strumming a lute and singing to her compatriots and patients alike, bringing with her a sense of peace and serenity in a land that had forsaken such ideals. To her, it was the one thing she had that few in her company did. The hands may help heal the wounded. They may provide ease to the passing of others. But to soothe with the voice? She felt a measure of pride in how unique it felt, and saw it as integral to her life's calling.

It was not meant to last. Her voice was taken, and that swelling pride and sense of purpose along with it. It seems such a simple thing, the weakness of the flesh. How easily severed, so eager to part from the rest and spill forth its own vitality until none remains to sustain the body. Liliwen didn't die when the knife pierced her neck. The soldier who wielded it, in a feverish traumatic fit, hunted by some daemon only he could see, could not aim true. His waning strength kept the blade from cutting too deep and severing Liliwen's jugular.

Liliwen survived, although the attack had left her voice as little more than the whispering ghost of a past she would forever long to return to. The melody that guided her life's work was gone, replaced by the crackling, broken discordance of death and despair. Not long after the incident that robbed her of her joy and ambitions, Liliwen was expelled from the 701st Apothecary Corps, stripped of her rank and removed from the First Province, told never to return under penalty of death. The corpse of her attacker lay in repose during her trial, neck severed none too cleanly by a hacking blade held in the hand of pure, unbridled rage and and bitter, heart-wrenching sorrow. Still, her superiors pitied her. Ordinarily such a gruesome murder would carry an immediate death sentence, but Liliwen had suffered enough. Being barred from further service, all but losing her ability to speak, and forced into exile from the land and people she had pledged her life to was punishment enough.



Briefly state your character’s intentions or motivations for entering the First Province:

Atonement for her crime of murder. It is said that within this forsaken land one might find their path to salvation, a way to raise oneself from their own perdition. Perhaps, in doing so, what was taken from her may be restored as well. Impure as such selfish motivation for seeking God is, Liliwen was never a particularly devout follower of the Faith. In the tradition of a good Yult, she was happy to keep up appearances to avoid trouble with the authorities. Now might be a good time to seek solace, comfort, and guidance in the Faith. Liliwen Gwyn felt she had fallen as far as she could fall, but rock bottom is as deep as the grave, and she wasn't dead quite yet.

She must first find her God.


Scenario Response:

“State your business and make it quick, citizen; we’ve enough bodies in there to keep us busy for years without adding yours to the pile, and those VIC are stirring up problems something fierce as of late.”

"I am Liliwen Gwyn, reporting for duty as an Aspirant with the Apothecary Corps," Liliwen rasped slowly, her response somewhat stilted by the need to draw rattling, ragged breaths every few words.
The officiant looked at her, absorbing her haggard appearance before setting his gaze upon her neck. She winced, waiting for the usual snide remark on her disfigurement as was so common in the Republic. "Seems they're scraping the bottom more and more these days," the man sounded amused. He gestured to the small, rust colored symbol at her neck, the chalice that is the Apothecary Standard. "They can't make anything better than this?"

Liliwen feigned laughter, more of a choking rasp with the occasionally lighter crackle, a hint of femininity in her damaged voice. "By God, you sound like shit, woman," the officiant said, turning his gaze from her. "Just give me the Quarantine Visa issued by your superiors so you may report for duty. Listening to you is like listening to Death sing." The young woman sullenly handed over her visa with trembling hands, refusing to look away from the officiant despite the stinging insult. You need this to work, she thought. Do not look away. Confidence. But not too confident, you are supposed to be new. Just keep calm. This will work.

The man impatiently snatched the battered parchment from her, hardly even looking at it. "Your superiors will not be pleased to see the state of this thing. Although, they took you in, so perhaps it is only fitting." He handed the visa back to Liliwen, who had been holding her breath. She slowly exhaled, quietly as her croaking airway would allow for, refusing to let forth the building sigh of relief that her deception had been successful. Her old Quarantine Visa, cleverly modified to appear as if recently issued. Not that the sniveling, sneering, monotone man seemed to so care. The seal of an Apothecary Corps' Surgeon General upon the scroll was all he had paid any mind to.

The Legionnaires flanking the gatekeeping official parted, and the officiant himself stepped aside, ushering Liliwen forward. "Let me give you some advice, Aspirant. Try not to get hit in the throat anymore. You scare the shit out of people." Liliwen didn't even look back, swiftly moving toward the gates into the First Province. Whether they were the gates to salvation or damnation, she couldn't be sure.

[Coty]

Congratulations, adventurer! Your application is...

Approved!

Please ensure that your character name is spelled correctly upon exiting the Songmaker's chambers. A GM will approve your character at their earliest convenience.

Welcome to Requiem!